Struggles and Triumphs, P. T. Barnum [good books to read in english .txt] 📗

He said he would cheerfully do so if it was desired. I mentioned it to the passengers, and there was a generally-expressed wish among them that he should preach. I went into the forward cabin, and requested the steward to arrange the chairs and tables properly for religious service. He replied that I must first get the captain’s consent. Of course, I thought this was a mere matter of form; so I went to the captain’s office, and said:

“Captain, the passengers desire to have Dr. Baird conduct a religious service in the forward cabin. I suppose there is no objection.”

“Decidedly there is,” replied the captain, gruffly; “and it will not be permitted.”

“Why not?” I asked, in astonishment.

“It is against the rules of the ship.”

“What! to have religious services on board?”

“There have been religious services once today, and that is enough. If the passengers do not think that is good enough, let them go without,” was the captain’s hasty and austere reply.

“Captain,” I replied, “do you pretend to say you will not allow a respectable and well-known clergyman to offer a prayer and hold religious services on board your ship at the request of your passengers?”

“That, sir, is exactly what I say. So, now, let me hear no more about it.”

By this time a dozen passengers were crowding around his door, and expressing their surprise at his conduct. I was indignant, and used sharp language.

“Well,” said I, “this is the most contemptible thing I ever heard of on the part of the owners of a public passenger ship. Their meanness ought to be published far and wide.”

“You had better shut up,” said Captain Judkins, with great sternness.

“I will not shut up,” I replied; “for this thing is perfectly outrageous. In that out-of-the-way forward cabin, you allow, on weekdays, gambling, swearing, smoking and singing, till late at night; and yet on Sunday you have the impudence to deny the privilege of a prayer-meeting, conducted by a gray-haired and respected minister of the gospel. It is simply infamous!”

Captain Judkins turned red in the face; and, no doubt feeling that he was “monarch of all he surveyed,” exclaimed, in a loud voice:

“If you repeat such language, I will put you in irons.”

“Do it, if you dare,” said I, feeling my indignation rising rapidly. “I dare and defy you to put your finger on me. I would like to sail into New York Harbor in handcuffs, on board a British ship, for the terrible crime of asking that religious worship may be permitted on board. So you may try it as soon as you please; and, when we get to New York, I’ll show you a touch of Yankee ideas of religious intolerance.”

The captain made no reply; and, at the request of friends, I walked to another part of the ship. I told the Doctor how the matter stood, and then, laughingly, said to him:

“Doctor, it may be dangerous for you to tell of this incident when you get on shore; for it would be a pretty strong draught upon the credulity of many of my countrymen if they were told that my zeal to hear an Orthodox minister preach was so great that it came near getting me into solitary confinement. But I am not prejudiced, and I like fair play.”

The old Doctor replied: “Well, you have not lost much; and, if the rules of this ship are so stringent, I suppose we must submit.”

The captain and myself had no further intercourse for five or six days; not until a few hours before our arrival in New York. Being at dinner, he sent his champagne bottle to me, and asked to “drink my health,” at the same time stating that he hoped no ill-feeling would be carried ashore. I was not then, as I am now, a teetotaler; so I accepted the proffered truce, and I regret that I must add I “washed down” my wrath in a bottle of Heidsick⁠—a poor example, which I hope never to repeat. We have frequently met since, and always with friendly greetings; but I have ever felt that his manners were unnecessarily coarse and offensive in carrying out an arbitrary and bigoted rule of the steamship company.

Though I have never lacked definite opinions, or hesitated to exhibit decided preferences in regard to the different religious creeds, I have never been so sectarian as to imagine that any one of the denominations is without any truth, or exists for no good purpose. On the contrary, I hold that every faith has somewhat of truth; and that each sect, in its way, does a work which perhaps no one of the other sects can do as well. I was strongly confirmed in this general belief by an impromptu utterance of Dr. Baird, during one of our conversations, which, under the circumstances, was not a little amusing, as it certainly evinced a good deal of insight into human nature. It is well known that the old Doctor was very rigid in his theological views, and in his career never spared either the Methodists or the people of the so-called liberal opinions. During our passage across the Atlantic, we very naturally had considerable tilting in regard to opinions which divided us, though in a thoroughly good-natured way. At last I recalled the case of a woman, somewhat noted among her neighbors for coarseness of speech, including profanity, making her altogether such a person as needed the refining influence of religious teaching. Describing the very unpromising condition of this woman, I said:

“Well, Doctor, if you can do anything with your creed to improve that woman, I should be glad to see you undertake the job.”

I was at once struck with the business air in which he considered the exigencies of what was undoubtedly a hard case. It was clear that he had dropped the character of the sectarian, and was taking a commonsense view of the problem. The problem was soon solved, and he replied:

“Mr. Barnum, it is of no use for you, with your