The Voyage of the Steadfast | Page 6

whether I was prepared to die. I thought it an odd
question."
"I should think it was," said young Bass. "What did you say in return?"
"I told him that I had not thought about it, and that, as I enjoyed life, I
had no intention of leaving it," answered Harry. "He then reminded me
that I might fall overboard any day, or the ship might be lost with all
hands, or the boat in which I happened to be might be capsized, or I
might die of fever, or be cut off by savages, or that I might lose my life
in a number of other ways. He asked me, if any of these disagreeable
things were to happen, where I expected to go. I told him, of course,
that I wished to go to heaven; and he then inquired what right I had to
go there."
"I do not think he had any right to ask you any such questions,"
observed Harry's companion. "I should have told him to mind his own
business. I do not like to be bothered by that sort of questions."
"I could not answer him in that way," replied Harry, "for he spoke very
kindly. He is, besides, an old man, and has been for a number of years
with my father, who thinks highly of him, for I have heard him say so.
Besides, he has taken great pains to teach me seamanship, always tells

me anything I ask him; and if it were not for him I should not know
half as much as I do."
"Still, I do not see why he should try to frighten you about dying, or ask
you where you expect to go if you do. It looks as if he doubted that you
would go to heaven," said Dickey.
"He told me very distinctly that I had no claim whatever to go there,
and that unless my sins were washed away, the Bible says that I should
be unfit to go there; that heaven is a pure and holy place, and that all
people are impure and unholy," said Harry, in a graver tone than usual.
"But I suppose he wants you to become religious, and read good books,
and give up laughing and singing and being the capital jolly fellow you
are now, Harry," interrupted Dickey Bass. "If I were you, I would not
listen to him; neither your father nor Mr Champion ever speaks to us in
that way. Just forget all he said, and drive dull care away."
"I have already forgotten, I am afraid, a great deal that he said,"
answered Harry; "but he seemed, at all events, very much in earnest,
and I cannot help remembering some of the things. Besides, Mr
Champion has lately spoken to me more seriously than he has ever
done before; and only last Sunday he gave me a book to read, and told
me that he thought it would do me good. As I found my sister Hannah's
name in it, I suppose she asked him to give it to me, and that he had
forgotten to do so till then."
"I saw you with one in your hand. Did you read it?" asked young Bass.
"It seemed very dry, and I fell asleep over it, so that I cannot say I
know much about it," answered Harry.
"The best thing you could have done," remarked Dickey. "Whatever
you do, Harry, don't turn Methodist. I cannot say that I admire old Tom,
and do not want you to become like him. To my mind he is a dull, stiff
old fellow, with a very good opinion of himself, and I have never felt
inclined to be intimate with him."

"I did not at first; but he seemed so anxious to help me, and to put me
up to all sorts of things, that I could not help liking him, though I own
that I would rather he did not talk to me about religion. The next time
he does so I shall try to get him to change the subject."
"Of course you must," said Dickey Bass. "It's all very well for parsons
and ministers, but an old boat-steerer has no business to trouble one
with such things. Why, I only yesterday heard him lecturing Rob
Burton there, the merriest, happiest fellow in the ship;" and he pointed
to a fine, active-looking young seaman at work on the other side of the
deck. "I have a notion that he was talking to him about his soul and
death, as if he was not likely to live as long as any one on board, and
longer too than most of the old hands. Why should he put melancholy
thoughts into his head, and take the pluck out