BY DR J. G. PATON.
THE habits of morning and evening family prayer and of grace before meat took a very wonderful hold upon the people; and became, as I have shown elsewhere, a distinctive badge of Christian versus Heathen. This was strikingly manifested during a time of bitter scarcity that befell us. I heard a father, for instance, at his hut door with his family around him, reverently blessing God for the food provided for them, and for all His mercies in Christ Jesus. Drawing near and conversing with them, I found that their meal consisted of fig leaves which they had gathered and cooked—a poor enough dish, but hunger makes a healthy appetite, and contentment is a grateful relish.
During the same period of privation, my Orphans suffered badly also. Once they came to me saying: “Missi, we are very hungry.” I replied. “So am I, dear children, and we have no more white food till the ‘Dayspring’ comes.” They continued: “Missi, you have two beautiful fig trees. Will you let us take one feast of the young and tender leaves? We will not injure branch or fruit.” I answered—”Gladly, my children, take your fill!” In a twinkling each child was perched upon a branch; and they feasted there happy as squirrels. Every night we prayed for the vessel, and in the morning our orphan boys rushed to the coral rocks and eagerly scanned the sea for an answer. Day after day they returned with sad faces, saying: “Missi, ‘Tavaka jimra!’ (no vessel yet).”
But at grey dawn of a certain day we were awoke by the boys shouting from the shore and running to the Mission House with the cry, “Tavaka oa! Tavaka oa! (The vessel, hurrah.)” We arose at once, and the boys
* This little story is taken from Dr J. G. Paton’s Autobiography, one of the most fascinating missionary books ever written. The story of his work in the New Hebrides reads like a romance. The Lord honoured him in his work, and gave him a gifted pen to put on record what the Holy Spirit can do in changing fierce cannibals into loving Christians. We recommend this book to all our young readers who have not read it, and to others who are no longer young, and we promise them a fascinating and instructive excursion in regions altogether new to them.—Editor.
exclaimed, “Missi, she is not our own vessel, but we think she carries her flag. She has three masts, and our ‘Dayspring’ only two!”
I looked through my glass, and saw that they were discharging goods into the vessel’s boats; and the children, when I told them that boxes and bags and casks were being sent on shore, shouted and danced with delight. As the first boatload was discharged, the Orphans surrounded me, saying: “Missi, here is a cask that rattles like biscuits! Will you let us take it to the mission house?” I told them to do so if they could; and in a moment it was turned into the path, and the boys had it flying before them, some tumbling and hurting their knees, but up and at it again, and never pausing till it rolled up at the door of our storehouse. On returning I found them all around it, and they said: “Missi, have you forgotten what you promised us?” I said—”What did I promise you?” They looked very disappointed, and whispered to each other, “Missi has forgot.” “Forgot what?” inquired I. “Missi,” they answered, “You promised that when the vessel came you would give each of us a biscuit.” “Oh,” I replied, “I did not forget; I only wanted to see if you remembered it!” They laughed, saying, “No fear of that, Missi! Will you soon open the cask? We are dying for biscuits.”
At once I got hammer and tools, knocked off the hoops, took out the end, and then gave girls and boys a biscuit each. To my surprise they all stood round, biscuit in hand, but not one beginning to eat. “What!” I exclaimed, “you are dying for biscuits. Why don’t you eat? Are you expecting another?” One of the eldest said—”We will first thank God for sending us food, and ask Him to bless it to us all.” And this was done in their own simple and beautiful child-like way; and then they did eat and enjoy their food as a gift from the Heavenly Father’s hand. Is there any child reading this or hearing it read, who never thanks God or asks Him to bless daily bread? Then is not that child a white heathen?
Sorrow, loss, sadness, death, are the worst things that are, except sin. But Christ knoweth well what to make of them, and can put us under such deep obligation to the cross, that we shall be grateful to affliction, and thank God who taught us to make our acquaintance with such a rough companion, who can hale us to Christ.—Rutherford.