BY DR J. G. PATON.
IN claiming Aniwa for Christ, and winning it as a small jewel for His crown, we had the experience which has ever marked God’s path through history—He raised up around us and wonderfully endowed men to carry forward His own blessed work. Among these must be specially commemorated Namakei, the old Chief of Aniwa. Slowly, but very steadily, the light of the Gospel broke in upon his soul, and he was ever very eager to communicate to his people all that he learned. In Heathen days he was a Cannibal and a great warrior; but from the first he took a warm interest in us and our work—a little selfish, no doubt, at the beginning, but soon becoming purified as his eyes and heart were opened to the Gospel of Jesus.
On the birth of a son to us on the Island, the old Chief was in ecstasies. He claimed the child as his heir, his own son being dead, and brought nearly the whole inhabitants in relays to see the white Chief of Aniwa! He would have him called Namakei the Younger, an honour which I fear we did not too highly appreciate. As the child grew, he took his hand and walked about with him freely amongst the people, learning to speak their language like a native, and not only greatly interesting them in himself, but even in us and in the work of the Lord. This, too, was one of the bonds, however purely human, that drew them all nearer and nearer to Jesus.
The death of Namakei had in it many streaks of Christian romance. He had heard about the missionaries annually meeting on one or other of the Islands, and consulting about the work of Jehovah. What ideas he had formed of a Mission Synod one cannot easily imagine; but in his old age, and when very frail, he formed an impassioned desire to attend our next meeting on Aneityum, and see and hear all the missionaries of Jesus gathered together from the New Hebrides. Terrified that he would die away from home, and that that might bring great reverses to the good work on Aniwa, where he was truly beloved, I opposed his going with all my might. But he and his relations and his people were all set upon it, and I had at length to give way. His few booklets were then gathered together, his meagre wardrobe was made up, and a small native
basket carried all his belongings. He assembled his people and took an affectionate farewell, pleading with them to be “strong for Jesus,” whether they ever saw him again or not, and to be loyal and kind to Missi. The people wailed aloud, and many wept bitterly. Those on board the “Dayspring” were amazed to see how his people loved him. The old Chief stood the voyage well. He went in and out to our meeting of Synod, and was vastly pleased with the respect paid to him on Aneityum. When he heard of the prosperity of the Lord’s work, and how Island after Island was learning to sing the praises of Jesus, his heart glowed, and he said—”Missi, I am lifting up my head like a tree. I am growing tall with joy!”
On the fourth or fifth day, however, he sent for me out of the Synod, and when I came to him, he said, eagerly, “Missi, I am near to die! I have asked you to come and to say farewell. Tell my daughter, my brother, and my people to go on pleasing Jesus, and I will meet them again in the fair world.” I tried to encourage him, saying that God might raise him up again and restore him to his people; but he faintly whispered, “O Missi, death is already touching me! I feel my feet going away from under me. Help me to lie down under the shade of that banyan tree.” So saying, he seized my arm, we staggered near to the tree, and he lay down under its cool shade. He whispered again, “I am going! O Missi, let me hear your words rising up in prayer, and then my soul will be strong to go.” Amidst many choking sobs, I tried to pray. At last he took my hand, pressed it to his heart, and said in a stronger and clearer tone—”O, my Missi, my dear Missi, I go before you, but I will meet you again in the home of Jesus. Farewell!”
That was the last effort of dissolving strength; he immediately became unconscious, and fell asleep. My heart felt like to break over him. He was my first Aniwan convert—the first who ever on that Island of love and tears opened his heart to Jesus; and as he lay there on the leaves and grass, my soul soared upward after his, and all the harps of God seemed to thrill with song as Jesus presented to the Father this trophy of redeeming love. He had been our true and devoted friend and fellow-helper in the Gospel; and next morning all the members of our Synod followed his remains to the grave. There we stood, the white missionaries of the Cross from far distant lands, mingling our tears with Christian natives of Aneityum, and
letting them fall over one who only a few years before was a blood-stained cannibal, and whom now we mourned as a brother, a saint, an apostle amongst his people. Ye ask an explanation? Christ entered into his heart, and Namakei became a new creature. “Behold, I make all things new.”
We were in positive distress about returning to Aniwa without the Chief, and we greatly feared the consequences. To show our perfect sympathy with them, we prepared a special and considerable present for Litsi, his daughter, for his brother, and for other near friends—a sort of object lesson, that we had in every way been kind to old Namakei, as we now wished to be to them. When our boat approached the landing, nearly the whole population had assembled to meet us; and Litsi and the old Chief’s brother were far out on the reef to salute us. Litsi’s keen eye had missed old Namakei’s form; and far as words could carry I heard her voice crying—”Missi, where is my father?” I made as if I did not hear; the boat was drawing slowly near, and again she cried aloud, “Missi, where is my father? Is Namakei dead!” I replied—”Yes. He died on Aneityum. He is now with Jesus in glory. Then arose a wild, wailing cry, led by Litsi and taken up by all around. It rose and fell like a chant or dirge, as one after another wailed out praise and sorrow over the name of Namakei. We moved slowly into the boat harbour; Litsi, the daughter, and Kalangi, his brother, shook hands, weeping sadly, and welcomed us back, assuring us that we had nothing to fear. Amidst many sobs and wailings, Litsi told us that they all dreaded he would never return, and explained to this effect—”We knew that he was dying, but we durst not tell you. When you agreed to let him go, he went round and took farewell of all his friends, and told them he was going to sleep at last on Aneityum, and that at the Great Day he would rise to meet Jesus with the glorious company of the Aneityumese Christians. He urged us all to obey you and be true to Jesus. Truly, Missi, we will remember my dear father’s parting word and follow in his steps, and help you in the work of the Lord.”—Autobiography, p. 391 (Popular Edition).
Without courage, Christian, you cannot be what you profess. The “fearful” are in the forlorn of those that march for hell (Rev. xxi. 8). Oh, how uncomely a sight is a bold sinner, and a fearful saint!—Sibbes.
An Affectionate Hint Respecting Public Worship *
The great Jehovah, from His glorious throne,
Stoops down to make His love and mercy known;
And bids the chosen tribes of Israel meet,
Where He reveals the glory of His feet.
He sends His heralds forth in Jesus’ name,
To publish peace and pard’ning love proclaim;
Yea, He goes with them, and applies His Word,
And makes it life, and health, and joy afford.
Where, then, is that ungrateful sinner found,
Who slights and disregards the Gospel sound ?
Who, when Jehovah in His courts draws near,
Neglects within those holy courts t’ appear ?
Can those who once have tasted Jesus’ grace,
Choose to be absent when He shows His face.
Shall a few drops of rain, or dirty road,
Prevent their public intercourse with God ?
Shall gossip calls, or some inferior things
Detain, when summon’d by the King of kings ?
Blush, brethren, at the God-insulting thought,
And prove in conduct you are better taught.
Remember, every time the house of prayer
Is open for the saints, the Lord is there,
To hold communion with the Heaven-born race,
And give them, from His fulness, grace for grace.
Let not such sacred seasons be forgot—
Say to each worldly care, “Detain me not !
A feast is held; and I must share a part;
I’ll not be robbed, nor grieve my pastor’s heart.”
See ! Satan’s slaves to scenes of riot go
By day and night, through rain, or hail, or snow !
And shall some visitor, or worldly care,
Detain believers from the house of prayer ?
* These verses are from the pen of the Rev. Joseph Irons, the well-known minister of Grove Chapel, Camberwell. Joseph Irons left the Church of England and became a Congregationalist soon after the death of his friend, John Newton. He had a great reputation as a preacher. His sermons are still read with delight and pleasure by those who love the old Scriptural, Calvinistic doctrines. It will interest our readers to know that the “Westminster Confession of Faith” is in the Trust Deed of Grove Chapel, and that the Shorter Catechism must be taught in the Sabbath School.—The Editor.
Forbid it, Lord, revive thy people’s zeal,
The luke-warm plague among thy children heal;
Ye heirs of bliss, whom Jesus often meets,
Whene’er His house is open, fill your seats.
Jehovah loves the temple of His grace
More than the tents of all His chosen race :
Blest is the man whose seeking spirit waits
On all the means of grace in Zion’s gates.
Bear with me, while I say the crime is great
Of those who practise coming very late,
As if God’s service were by far too long,
And they omit the first and closing song.
Shall pew-doors rattle, hats and pattens move,
To show how you the service disapprove ?
Disturbing those who come to praise the Lord ?
And even while they listen to His Word ?
A little less indulgence in your bed—
A little more contrivance in the head—
A little more devotion in the mind—
Would quite prevent your being so behind !
Suppose an earthly prince should condescend
To bid you to his banquet as a friend,
Would you not try all means within your power
To be in court at the appointed hour ?
Shall such attention to a worm be given,
And be refused to the God of Heaven ?
Who can expect to be by Jesus blest,
If absent when He comes to meet His guests ?
O what a pleasing sight it would afford,
If, when the clerk says, “Let us praise the Lord,”
Each seat was occupied, and all the throng
Were waiting to unite in their first song !
My brethren, this might mostly be the case,
If we were lively in the Christian race ;
Then every hindrance would be laid aside,
To see and hear of Jesus crucified.
If you complain you have so far to come,
Set out a little sooner from your home ;
But those who dwell hard by have no excuse,
Except in idleness, or sleep, or use.
I grant, lest I should seem to be severe,
There are domestic cases here and there :
Age—illness—service—things quite unforeseen,
To censure which I surely do not mean.
But such will not (unless I greatly err)
Among the prudent very oft occur,
And when they do, you surely should endeavour
To come at last : ’tis better late than never !
JOSEPH IRONS.