BY THE REV. JOHN TALLACH, SOUTH AFRICA.
OUR field is so wide that it embraces the islands of the sea, and for the present we purpose to visit one of these. To us it is so remote that its name may not come up in our conversation more often than once in ten years. But as there is a peculiar delight in finding grace in out-of-the-way corners, and as this delight is heightened when we find that same grace duplicated in our own experience, the very remoteness of this part of the field may well give an added lustre to the treasures there. Earthly treasures are valuable just as they are uncommon, but often our treasures are valuable just because they are common. The incident which we are about to record is reproduced in the experience of thousands of Christians. It is therefore common. But it is reproduced by the Almighty alone, therefore it is precious.
The island we refer to is one of the Fiji group, and the treasure we desire to direct your notice to is the conversion of one of the islanders—Joel Bulu. He himself records it as follows :—“I was born in Vavan in the heathen days, nor was it till I was a big lad that the Gospel came to our land. When I heard the report of it I was full of anger, and my soul burned with hatred against it. ‘And shall our gods be forsaken ?’ I cried, in great wrath. ‘As for me, I will never forsake them.’ One day I heard a man telling of the Gospel, who said it promised a land of the dead different from the place of which our fathers spoke— even a home in the sky for the good, while evil men were cast into a dreadful place whose fire none could quench. On that very night I went forth with the lads of the town. It was a fine night, and looking up to the heavens, where the stars were shining, this thought suddenly smote me—’Oh, the beautiful land! If the words be true which were told us to-day, then indeed these Gospel people are happy,’ and my soul longed with a great longing to reach that beautiful land. I could not rest, so I went to a town where dwelt a Christian Chief, to tell him that I wished to be a Christian. ‘Good is your coming,’ cried the Chief, for great was his joy. ‘But why do you want to be a Christian?’ ‘I have heard,’ was my reply, ‘of the good land whither you go after death, wherefore do I wish to repent that I also may be a dweller in the sky.’ So they prayed with me, and thus was I turned to Christianity, but of its meaning I knew nothing. Then came the missionary to Vavan, and standing under a tree in the public square, he preached to us of the tares among the wheat. It was a sermon that pierced my soul, for I had thought that I was one of the wheat, but now I found that I was among the tares. As I heard I wept and trembled, for I thought, ‘I shall never see the good land.’ When the sermon was over, and the people rose to go, I sat in my place quaking for fear and weeping in great anguish, for all the strength had gone out of my body. ‘What is the matter with you?’ they asked. I replied, ‘Pray for me, pray for me, I beseech you!’ So they knelt down and prayed for me, first one and then the other, till they were tired; but I found no comfort, so rose, and going into an empty outhouse, I knelt down there by myself, weeping and praying before the Lord, for now I felt I was a very great sinner, the wrath of God lay heavy on me, and I hated myself because of my evil ways. ‘Oh! what is that repentance of which the preacher told us,’ I cried. ‘Lord, let me find it that I may live.’ for so dark was my mind that I did not know that this sorrow and fear of mine were marks of repentance. Thus I continued a long time, seeking the Lord in prayer with many others.
At last there came a day in 1834, whereon the missionaries assembled us to communion. The missionary in preaching told of the work of God in his own soul. My heart burned within me as I listened to his words, for in speaking of himself he told me all I felt, and I said to myself, ‘We are like two canoes sailing bow and bow, neither being swifter than the other.’ Thus it was with me when he told of repentance, but when he began to speak of his faith in Christ, the forgiveness of sins, and the peace and joy which lift the spirit he found in believing, then I said, ‘My mast is broken, my sail is blown away, he has gone clean out of my sight, and I am here drifting helplessly over the waves.’ But as I eagerly listened to his words, telling of the love of Christ, my eyes were opened, I saw the way, and I, even I, also believed and lived. I was like a man fleeing for his life from an enemy behind him, and groping along the wall of a house in the dark to find a door that he may enter in and escape, when, lo! a door suddenly is opened before his face, and straightway with one bound he leaps inside. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Often had I wept before, but not like my former weeping were the tears which I now shed. Then I wept out of sorrow and fear, but now for joy and gladness, and because my heart was full of love to Him who had loved me and given Himself for me. The people called on me and asked how it was with me. I tried to stand, but it seemed to me as if my soul was parted from its body, and I remembered nothing more until I found myself on a mat, and the missionaries anxiously gathered round me. ‘What is the matter?’ they said. ‘I live, I live!’ I cried, ‘let me rise that I may declare the mercies of God! Oh, what a day! I can never forget it. The prayers! the praises! the tears of joy!’
Joel lived for nearly 40 years after the above incident, and was instrumental in bringing many others to experience both his sorrow and his joy. Three steps, three awakenings—one issued in self-righteousness, the next in true sorrow for sin, and the last in joy in the Redeemer. Hearing them from some fellow-Christian a dejected believer may recognise them in his own experience, and rejoice. A treasure has been dug up and put into his hand. Here in Joel is another treasure. We dig up some in Highland meeting-houses, and others of the same kind in the Fiji Islands. The names of many speakers in our Friday meetings may well be exchanged for Joel Bulu.
We shall have to bless God for the storm that heaves us into the harbour of eternal rest.—Rowland Hill.
We shall have more to do to bless God for what He denies us, than for what He gives us.—Rowland Hill
Sabbath Trading*
MR KENNETH MATHESON, Grocer, Dingwall, took part in the proceedings at the Convention of Scottish Grocers held in Dunblane when a resolution which expressed grave concern at the continued increase in Sabbath trading in Scotland and urging local and imperial action against the practice was moved by Mr Brown, Glasgow, and seconded by Bailie Leslie, Dundee, and carried.
* The report of this meeting escaped our notice at the time, but in view of the important resolution carried by the Convention, we deem it right to give it a place in the Magazine.—Editor
Mr Matheson said—My only object in coming to this conference is to bring before you a matter which ought to be, to everyone who has the best interests of this nation at heart, one of paramount importance, I refer particularly to that form of Sabbath desecration known as Sabbath trading. The Fourth Commandment is as binding upon us as a people now as it was binding upon the children of Israel when Moses received it at the hand of God. There are laws ament Sabbath trading dating as far back as 1661 still on the Statute Book of this realm. From the Lord Advocate I have it that these laws have never been repealed, and that keeping open shop on Sabbath is declared an offence by the law of Scotland. I may well say in the words of that late eminent servant of Christ (Dr Love)—Cursed is that gain, cursed is that recreation, cursed is the wealth which is gained by criminal encroachments of the Sacred Day. I therefore beg to move that we as a conference ask the Government to enforce the Sabbath Trading Act of 1661, which makes it a punishable offence to have a shop open on Sabbath. The resolution carried substantially incorporated this motion.