“Her friends are taking her to a comfortable home; you have no right to

interfere, and I have let them go.” He further refused to hear the

grounds of our complaint, and ordered the police to clear the Office.

Next morning, a false and foolish account of the whole affair appeared

in the Newspapers, condemnatory of the Mission and of myself; a meeting

of the directors was summoned, and the Superintendent came to my lodging

to take me before them. Having heard all, and questioned and

cross-questioned me, they resolved to prosecute the abductors of the

girl. The Nunnery authorities confessed that the little sister was with

them, but denied that _she_ had been taken in there, or that they knew

anything of her case. Though the girl was sought for carefully by the

Police, and by all the members of my class, for nearly a fortnight, no

trace of her or of the coachman or of any of the parties could be

discovered; till one day from a cellar, through a grated window, she

called to one of my class girls passing by, and begged her to run and

let me know that she was confined there. At once, the directors of the

City Mission were informed by me, and Police were sent to rescue her;

but on examining that house they found that she had been again removed.

The occupiers denied all knowledge of where she had gone, or who had

taken her away from their lodging. All other efforts failed to find her,

till she was left at the Poor House door, far gone in dropsy, and soon

after died in that last refuge of the destitute and forsaken.

Anonymous letters were now sent, threatening my life; and I was publicly

cursed from the altar by the priests in Abercromby Street Chapel. The

directors of the Mission, fearing violence, advised me to leave Glasgow

for a short holiday, and even offered to arrange for my being taken for

work in Edinburgh for a year, that the fanatical passions of the Irish

Papists might have time to subside. But I refused to leave my work. I

went on conducting it all as in the past. The worst thing that happened

was, that on rushing one day past a row of houses occupied exclusively

by Papists, a stone thrown from one of them cut me severely above the

eye, and I fell stunned and bleeding. When I recovered and scrambled to

my feet, no person of course that could be suspected was to be seen! The

doctor having dressed the wound, it rapidly healed, and after a short

confinement I resumed my work and my studies without any further serious

annoyance. Attempts were made more than once, in these Papist closes,

and I believe by the Papists themselves, to pour pails of boiling water

on my head, over windows and down dark stairs, but in every case I

marvellously escaped; and as I would not turn coward, their malice tired

itself out, and they ultimately left me entirely at peace. Is not this a

feature of the lower Irish, and especially Popish population? Let them

see that bullying makes you afraid, and they will brutally and cruelly

misuse you; but defy them fearlessly, or take them by the nose, and they

will crouch like whelps beneath your feet. Is there anything in their

Religion that accounts for this? Is it not a system of alternating

tyranny on the one part, and terror, abject terror, on the other?

About this same time there was an election of elders for Dr. Symington’s

congregation, and I was by an almost unanimous vote chosen for that

office. For years now I had been attached to them as City Missionary for

their district, and many friends urged me to accept the eldership, as

likely to increase my usefulness, and give me varied experience for my

future work. My dear father, also, himself an elder in the congregation

at Dumfries, advised me similarly; and though very young, comparatively,

for such a post, I did accept the office, and continued to act as an

elder and member of Dr. Symington’s kirk session, till by-and-by I was

ordained as a Missionary to the New Hebrides, where the great lot of my

life had been cast by the Lord, as yet unknown to me.

All through my City Mission period, I was painfully carrying on my

studies, first at the University of Glasgow, and thereafter at the

Reformed Presbyterian Divinity Hall; and also medical classes at the

Andersonian College. With the exception of one session, when failure of

health broke me down, I struggled patiently on through ten years. The

work was hard and most exacting; and if I never attained the scholarship

for which I thirsted—being but poorly grounded in my younger days—I yet

had much of the blessed Master’s presence in all my efforts, which many

better scholars sorely lacked; and I was sustained by the lofty aim

which burned all these years bright within my soul, namely,—to be

qualified as a preacher of the Gospel of Christ, to be owned and used by

Him for the salvation of perishing men.

CHAPTER IV.

_FOREIGN MISSION CLAIMS._

The Wail of the Heathen.—A Missionary Wanted.—Two Souls on the

Altar.—Lions in the Path.—The Old Folks at Home.—Successors in

Green Street Mission.—Old Green Street Hands.—A Father in God.

Happy in my work as I felt, and successful by the blessing of God, yet I

continually heard, and chiefly during my last years in the Divinity

Hall, the wail of the perishing Heathen in the South Seas; and I saw

that few were caring for them, while I well knew that many would be

ready to take up my work in Calton, and carry it forward perhaps with

more efficiency than myself. Without revealing the state of my mind to

any person, this was the supreme subject of my daily meditation and

prayer; and this also led me to enter upon those medical studies, in

which I purposed taking the full course; but at the close of my third

year, an incident occurred, which led me at once to offer myself for the

Foreign Mission field.

The Reformed Presbyterian Church of Scotland, in which I had been

brought up, had been advertising for another Missionary to join the Rev.

John Inglis in his grand work in the New Hebrides. Dr. Bates, the

excellent convener of the Heathen Missions Committee, was deeply

grieved, because for two years their appeal had failed. At length, the

Synod, after much prayer and consultation, felt the claims of the

Heathen so urgently pressed upon them by the Lord’s repeated calls, that

they resolved to cast lots, to discover whether God would thus select

any Minister to be relieved from his home-charge, and designated as a

Missionary to the South Seas. Each member of Synod, as I was informed,

agreed to hand in, after solemn appeal to God, the names of the three

best qualified in his esteem for such a work, and he who had the clear

majority was to be loosed from his congregation, and to proceed to the

Mission field—or the first and second highest, if two could be secured.

Hearing this debate, and feeling an intense interest in these most

unusual proceedings, I remember yet the hushed solemnity of the prayer

before the names were handed in. I remember the strained silence that

held the Assembly while the scrutinizers retired to examine the papers;

and I remember how tears blinded my eyes when they returned to announce

that the result was so indecisive, that it was clear that the Lord had

not in that way provided a Missionary. The cause was once again solemnly

laid before God in prayer, and a cloud of sadness appeared to fall over

all the Synod.

The Lord kept saying within me, “Since none better qualified can be got,

rise and offer yourself!” Almost overpowering was the impulse to answer

aloud, “Here am I, send me.” But I was dreadfully afraid of mistaking my

own emotions for the will of God. So I resolved to make it a subject of

close deliberation and prayer for a few days longer, and to look at the

proposal from every possible aspect. Besides, I was keenly solicitous

about the effect upon the hundreds of young people and others, now

attached to all my classes and meetings; and yet I felt a growing

assurance that this was the call of God to His servant, and that He who

was willing to employ me in the work abroad, was both able and willing

to provide for the on-carrying of my work at home. The wail and the

claims of the Heathen were constantly sounding in my ears. I saw them

perishing for lack of the knowledge of the true God and His Son Jesus,

while my Green Street people had the open Bible, and all the means of

grace within easy reach, which, if they rejected, they did so wilfully,

and at their own peril. None seemed prepared for the Heathen field; many

were capable and ready for the Calton service. My medical studies, as

well as my literary and divinity training, had specially qualified me in

some ways for the Foreign field, and from every aspect at which I could

look the whole facts in the face, the voice within me sounded like a

voice from God.

It was under good Dr. Bates of West Campbell Street that I had begun my

career in Glasgow—receiving £25 per annum for district visitation in

connection with his congregation, along with instruction under Mr.

Hislop and his staff in the Free Church Normal Seminary—and oh, how Dr.

Bates did rejoice, and even weep for joy, when I called on him, and

offered myself for the New Hebrides Mission! I returned to my lodging

with a lighter heart than I had for some time enjoyed, feeling that

nothing so clears the vision, and lifts up the life, as a decision to

move forward in what you know to be entirely the will of the Lord. I

said to my fellow-student, who had chummed with me all through our

course at college,—

“I have been away signing my banishment” (a rather trifling way of talk

for such an occasion). “I have offered myself as a Missionary for the

New Hebrides.”

After a long and silent meditation, in which he seemed lost in

far-wandering thoughts, his answer was,—

“If they will accept of me, I also am resolved to go!”

I said, “Will you write the convener to that effect, or let me do so?”

He replied, “You may.”

A few minutes later his letter of offer was in the post office. Next

morning, Dr. Bates called upon us early, and after a long conversation,

commended us and our future work to the Lord God in fervent prayer.

My fellow-student, Mr. Joseph Copeland, had also for some time been a

very successful City Missionary in the Camlachie district, while

attending along with me at the Divinity Hall. This leading of God,

whereby we both resolved at the same time to give ourselves to the

Foreign Mission field, was wholly unexpected by us, as we had never once

spoken to each other about going abroad. At a meeting of the Heathen

Missions Committee, held immediately thereafter, both were, after due

deliberation, formally accepted, on condition that we passed

successfully the usual examinations required of candidates for the

Ministry. And for the next twelve months we were placed under the

special committee for advice as to medical experience, acquaintance with

the rudiments of trades, and anything else which might be thought useful

to us in the Foreign field.

When it became known that I was preparing to go abroad as Missionary,

nearly all were dead against the proposal, except Dr. Bates and my

fellow-student. My dear father and mother, however, when I consulted

them, characteristically replied, “that they had long since given me

away to the Lord, and in this matter also would leave me to God’s

disposal.” From other quarters we were besieged with the strongest

opposition on all sides. Even Dr. Symington, one of my professors in

divinity, and the beloved Minister in connection with whose congregation

I had wrought so long as a City Missionary, and in whose kirk session I

had for years sat as an elder, repeatedly urged me to remain at home. He

argued, “that Green Street Church was doubtless the sphere for which God

had given me peculiar qualifications, and in which He had so largely

blessed my labours; that if I left those now attending my classes and

meetings, they might be scattered, and many of them would probably fall

away; that I was leaving certainty for uncertainty—work in which God had

made me greatly useful, for work in which I might fail to be useful, and

only throw away my life amongst Cannibals.”

I replied, “that my mind was finally resolved; that, though I loved my

work and my people, yet I felt that I could leave them to the care of

Jesus, who would soon provide them a better pastor than I; and that,

with regard to my life amongst the Cannibals, as I had only once to die,

I was content to leave the time and place and means in the hand of God,

who had already marvellously preserved me when visiting cholera patients

and the fever-stricken poor; on that score I had positively no further

concern, having left it all absolutely to the Lord, whom I sought to

serve and honour, whether in life or by death.”

The house connected with my Green Street Church, was now offered to me

for a Manse, and any reasonable salary that I cared to ask (as against

the promised £120 per annum for the far-off and dangerous New Hebrides),

on condition that I would remain at home. I cannot honestly say that

such offers or opposing influences proved a heavy trial to me; they

rather tended to confirm my determination that the path of duty was to

go abroad. Amongst many who sought to deter me, was one dear old

Christian gentleman, whose crowning argument always was,—

“The Cannibals! you will be eaten by Cannibals!”

At last I replied, “Mr. Dickson, you are advanced in years now, and your

own prospect is soon to be laid in the grave, there to be eaten by

worms; I confess to you, that if I can but live and die serving and

honouring the Lord Jesus, it will make no difference to me whether I am

eaten by Cannibals or by worms; and in the Great Day my resurrection

body will arise as fair as yours in the likeness of our risen Redeemer.”

The old gentleman, raising his hands in a deprecating attitude, left the

room exclaiming,—

“After that I have nothing more to say!”

My dear Green Street people grieved excessively at the thought of my

leaving them, and daily pled with me to remain. Indeed, the opposition

was so strong from nearly all, and many of them warm Christian friends,

that I was sorely tempted to question whether I was carrying out the

Divine will, or only some headstrong wish of my own. This also caused me

much anxiety, and drove me close to God in prayer. But again every doubt

would vanish, when I clearly saw that all at home had free access to the

Bible and the means of grace, with Gospel light shining all around them,

while the poor Heathen were perishing, without even the chance of

knowing all God’s love and mercy to men. Conscience said louder and

clearer every day, “Leave all these results with Jesus your Lord, who

said, ‘Go ye into all the world, preach the gospel to every creature,

and lo! I am with you alway.’” These words kept ringing in my ears;

these were our marching orders.

Some retorted upon me, “There are Heathen at home; let us seek and save,

first of all, the lost ones perishing at our doors.” This I felt to be

most true, and an appalling fact; but I unfailingly observed that those

who made this retort neglected these home Heathen themselves; and so the

objection, as from them, lost all its power. They would ungrudgingly

spend more on a fashionable party at dinner or tea, on concert or ball

or theatre, or on some ostentatious display, or worldly and selfish

indulgence, ten times more, perhaps in a single day, than they would

give in a year, or in half a lifetime, for the conversion of the whole

Heathen World, either at home or abroad. Objections from all such people

must, of course, always count for nothing among men to whom spiritual

things are realities. For these people themselves,—I do, and always did,

only pity them, as God’s stewards, making such a miserable use of time

and money entrusted to their care.

On meeting with so many obstructing influences, I again laid the whole

matter before my dear parents, and their reply was to this

effect:—“Heretofore we feared to bias you, but now we must tell you why

we praise God for the decision to which you have been led. Your father’s

heart was set upon being a Minister, but other claims forced him to give

it up. When you were given to them, your father and mother laid you upon

the altar, their first-born, to be consecrated, if God saw fit, as a

Missionary of the Cross; and it has been their constant prayer that you

might be prepared, qualified, and led to this very decision; and we pray

with all our heart that the Lord may accept your offering, long spare

you, and give you many souls from the Heathen World for your hire.” From

that moment, every doubt as to my path of duty for ever vanished. I saw

the hand of God very visibly, not only preparing me for, but now leading

me to, the Foreign Mission field.

Well did I know that the sympathy and prayers of my dear parents were

warmly with me in all my studies and in all my Mission work; but for my

education they could, of course, give me no money help. All through, on

the contrary, it was my pride and joy to help them, being the eldest in

a family of eleven. First, I assisted them to purchase the family cow,

without whose invaluable aid my ever-memorable mother never could have

reared and fed her numerous flock; then, I paid for them the house-rent

and the cow’s grass on the Bank Hill, till some of the others grew up

and relieved me by paying these in my stead; and finally, I helped to

pay the school-fees, to provide clothing—in short I gave, and gladly,

what could possibly be saved out of my City Mission salary of £40,

ultimately advanced to £45 per annum. Self-educated thus, and without

the help of one shilling from any other source, readers will easily

imagine that I had many a staggering difficulty to overcome in my long

curriculum in Arts, Divinity, and Medicine; but God so guided me, and

blessed all my little arrangements, that I never incurred one farthing

of personal debt. There was, however, a heavy burden always pressing

upon me, and crushing my spirit from the day I left my home, which had

been thus incurred.

The late owner of the Dalswinton estate allowed, as a prize, the

cottager who had the tidiest house and most beautiful flower-garden to

sit rent free. For several years in succession, my old sea-faring

grandfather won this prize, partly by his own handy skill, partly by his

wife’s joy in flowers. Unfortunately no clearance-receipt had been asked

or given for these rents—the proprietor and his cottars treating each

other as friends rather than as men of business. The new heir,

unexpectedly succeeding, found himself in need of money, and threatened

prosecution for such rents as arrears. The money had to be borrowed. A

money-lending lawyer gave it at usurious interest, on condition of my

father also becoming responsible for interest and principal. This burden

hung like a millstone around my grandfather’s neck till the day of his

death; and it then became suspended round my father’s neck alone. The

lawyer, on hearing of my giving up trade and entering upon study,

threatened to prosecute my father for the capital, unless my name were

given along with his for security. Every shilling that I or any of us

could save, all through these ten years of my preparatory classes, went

to pay off that interest and gradually to reduce the capital; and this

burden we managed, amongst us, to extinguish just on the eve of my

departure for the South Seas. Indeed, one of the purest joys connected

with that time was that I received my first Foreign Mission salary and

outfit money in advance, and could send home a sum sufficient to wipe

out the last penny of a claim by that money-lender or by any one else

against my beloved parents, in connection with the noble struggle they

had made in rearing so large a family in thorough Scottish independence.

And that joy was hallowed by the knowledge that my other brothers and

sisters were now all willing and able to do what I had been doing—for we

stuck to each other and to the old folks like burs, and had all things

“in common,” as a family in Christ—and I knew that never again,

howsoever long they might be spared through a peaceful autumn of life,

would the dear old father and mother lack any joy or comfort that the

willing hands and loving hearts of all their children could singly or

unitedly provide. For all this I did praise the Lord. It consoled me,

beyond description, in parting from them, probably for ever in this

world at least.

The Directors of Glasgow City Mission along with the Great Hamilton

Street congregation, had made every effort to find a suitable successor

to me in my Green Street work, but in vain. Despairing of success, as no

inexperienced worker could with any hope undertake it, Rev. Mr. Caie,

the superintendent, felt moved to appeal to my brother Walter,—then in a

good business situation in the city, who had been of late closely

associated with me in all my undertakings,—if he would not come to the

rescue, devote himself to the Mission, and prepare for the Holy

Ministry. My brother resigned a good position and excellent prospects in

the business world, set himself to carry forward the Green Street

Mission and did so with abundant energy and manifest blessing,

persevered in his studies, despite a long-continued illness through

injury to his foot, and became an honoured Minister of the Gospel, in

the Reformed Presbyterian Church first of all, and now in the Free

Church of Scotland, at Chapelton, near Hamilton.

On my brother withdrawing from Green Street, God provided for the

district a devoted young Minister, admirably adapted for the work, Rev.

John Edgar, M.A., who succeeded in drawing together such a body of

people that they hived off and built a new church in Landressy Street,

which is now, by amalgamation, known as the Barrowfield Free Church of

Glasgow. For that fruit too, while giving all praise to other devoted

workers, we bless God as we trace the history of our Green Street

Mission. Let him that soweth and him that reapeth rejoice unfeignedly

together! The spirit of the old Green Street workers lives on too, as I

have already said, in the new premises erected close thereby; and in

none more conspicuously than in the son of my staunch patron and friend,

another Thomas Binnie, Esq., who in Foundry Boy meetings and otherwise

devotes the consecrated leisure of a busy and prosperous life to the

direct personal service of his Lord and Master. The blessing of Jehovah

God be ever upon that place, and upon all who there seek to win their

fellows to the love and service of Jesus Christ!

When I left Glasgow, many of the young men and women of my classes

would, if it had been possible, have gone with me, to live and die among

the Heathen. Though chiefly working girls and lads in trades and mills,

their deep interest led them to unite their pence and sixpences and to

buy web after web of calico, print, and woollen stuffs, which they

themselves shaped and sewed into dresses for the women, and kilts and

pants for men, on the New Hebrides. This continued to be repeated year

by year, long after I had left them; and to this day no box from Glasgow

goes to the New Hebrides Mission which does not contain article after

article from one or other of the old Green Street hands. I do certainly

anticipate that, when they and I meet in Glory, those days in which we

learned the joy of Christian service in the Green Street Mission Halls

will form no unwelcome theme of holy and happy converse!

That able and devoted Minister of the Gospel, Dr. Bates, the Convener of

the Heathen Missions, had taken the deepest and most fatherly interest

in all our preparations. But on the morning of our final examinations he

was confined to bed with sickness; yet could not be content without

sending his daughter to wait in an adjoining room near the Presbytery

House, to learn the result, and instantly to carry him word. When she,

hurrying home, informed him that we both had passed successfully, and

that the day of our ordination as Missionaries to the New Hebrides had

been appointed, the apostolic old man praised God for the glad tidings,

and said his work was now done, and that he could depart in

peace,—having seen two devoted men set apart to preach the Gospel to

these dark and bloody Islands in answer to his prayers and tears for

many a day. Thereafter he rapidly sank, and soon fell asleep in Jesus.

He was from the first a very precious friend to me, one of the ablest

Ministers our Church ever had, by far the warmest advocate of her

Foreign Missions, and altogether a most attractive, white-souled, and

noble specimen of an ambassador for Christ, beseeching men to be

reconciled to God.

[Illustration: _Stanford’s Geog. Estab^t., London._]

CHAPTER V.

_THE NEW HEBRIDES._

License and Ordination.—At Sea.—From Melbourne to Aneityum.—Settlement

on Tanna.—Our Mission Stations.—Diplomatic Chiefs.—Painful First

Impressions.—Bloody Scenes.—The Widow’s Doom.

On the first of December, 1857, the other Missionary-designate and I

were “licensed” as preachers of the Gospel. Thereafter we spent four

months in visiting and addressing nearly every congregation and Sabbath

school in the Reformed Presbyterian Church of Scotland, that the people

might see us and know us, and thereby take a personal interest in our

work. That idea was certainly excellent, and might well be adapted to

the larger Churches, by allocating one Missionary to each province or to

so many presbyteries, sending him to address these, and training them to

regard him as their Missionary and his work as theirs. On the 23rd

March, 1858, in Dr. Symington’s church, Glasgow, in presence of a mighty

crowd, and after a magnificent sermon on “Come over and help us,” we

were solemnly ordained as Ministers of the Gospel, and set apart as

Missionaries to the New Hebrides. On the 16th April, 1858, we left the

Tail of the Bank at Greenock, and set sail in the _Clutha_ for the

Foreign Mission field.

Our voyage to Melbourne was rather tedious, but ended prosperously,

under Captain Broadfoot, a kindly, brave-hearted Scot, who did

everything that was possible for our comfort. He himself led the singing

on board at worship, which was always charming to me, and was always

regularly conducted—on deck when the weather was fair, below when it was

rough. I was also permitted to conduct Bible classes amongst the crew

and amongst the passengers, at times and places approved of by the

Captain—in which there was great joy. Nearly thirty years after, when I

returned the second time to Scotland, a gentleman of good position, and

the father of a large family in the West, saluted me warmly at the close

of one of my meetings, and reminded me that he was my precentor in the

Bible class on board the _Clutha_! He was kind enough to say that he had

never forgotten the scene and the lessons there.

Arriving at Melbourne, we were welcomed by Rev. Mr. Moor, Mr. and Mrs.

Samuel Wilson, and Mr. Wright, all Reformed Presbyterians from Geelong.

Mr. Wilson’s two children, Jessie and Donald, had been under our care

during the voyage; and my young wife and I went with them for a few days

on a visit to Geelong, while Mr. Copeland remained on board the _Clutha_

to look after our boxes and to watch for any opportunity of reaching our

destination on the Islands. He heard that an American ship, the _Francis

P. Sage_, was sailing from Melbourne to Penang; and the Captain agreed

to land us on Aneityum, New Hebrides, with our two boats and fifty

boxes, for £100. We got on board on the 12th August, but such a gale

blew that we did not sail till the 17th. On the _Clutha_ all was quiet,

and good order prevailed; in the _F. P. Sage_ all was noise and

profanity. The Captain said he kept his second mate for the purpose of

swearing at the men and knocking them about. The voyage was most

disagreeable to all of us, but fortunately it lasted only twelve days.

On the 29th we were close up to Aneityum; but the Captain refused to

land us, even in his boats; some of us suspecting that his men were so

badly used, that had they got on shore they would never have returned to

him! In any case he had beforehand secured his £100.

He lay off the island till a trader’s boat came off to see what we

wanted, and by it we sent a note to Dr. Geddie, one of the Missionaries

there. Early next morning, Monday, he came off to us in his boat,

accompanied by Mr. Mathieson, a newly-arrived Missionary from Nova

Scotia; bringing also Captain Anderson in the small mission schooner,

the _John Knox_, and a large mission boat called the _Columbia_, well

manned with crews of able and willing Natives. Our fifty boxes were soon

on board the _John Knox_, the _Columbia_, and our own boats—all being

heavily loaded and built up, except those that had to be used in pulling

the others ashore. Dr. Geddie, Mr. Mathieson, Mrs. Paton, and I, were

perched among the boxes on the _John Knox_, and had to hold on as best

we could. On sheering off from the _F. P. Sage_, one of her davits

caught and broke the mainmast of the little _John Knox_ by the deck, and

I saved my wife from being crushed to death by its fall through managing

to swing her instantaneously aside in an apparently impossible manner.

It did graze Mr. Mathieson, but he was not hurt. The _John Knox_,

already overloaded, was thus quite disabled; we were about ten miles at

sea, and in imminent danger; but the Captain of the _F. P. Sage_

heartlessly sailed away and left us to struggle with our fate.

We drifted steadily towards Tanna, an island of Cannibals, where our

goods would have been plundered and all of us cooked and eaten. Dr.

Geddie’s boat and mine had the _John Knox_ in tow; and Mr. Copeland,

with a crew of Natives, was struggling hard with his boat to pull the

_Columbia_ and her load towards Aneityum. As God mercifully ordered it,

though we had a stiff trade wind to pull against, we had a comparatively

calm sea; yet we drifted still to leeward, till Dr. Inglis going round

to the harbour in his boat, as he had heard of our arrival, saw us far

at sea, and hastened to our rescue. All the boats now, with their

willing native crews, got fastened to our schooner, and to our great joy

she began to move ahead. After pulling for hours and hours, under the

scorching rays of an almost tropical sun, we were all safely landed on

shore at Aneityum about six o’clock in the evening of August 30th, just

four months and fourteen days since we sailed from Greenock. We got a

hearty welcome from the Missionaries’ wives on the shore, Mrs. Geddie,

Mrs. Inglis, and Mrs. Mathieson, and from all our new friends, the

Christian Natives of Aneityum; and the great danger in which both life

and property had been placed at the close of our voyage, made us praise

God all the more, that He had brought us to this quiet resting-place,

around which lay the Islands of the New Hebrides, to which our eager

hearts had looked forward, and into which we entered now in the name of

the Lord.

Mr. Copeland, Mrs. Paton, and I went round the island to Dr. Inglis’s

Station, where we were most cordially received and entertained by his

dear lady, and by the Christian Natives there. As he was making several

additions to his house at that time, we received for the next few weeks

our first practical and valuable training in Mission house-building, as

well as in higher matters. Soon after, a meeting was called to consult

about our settlement, and, by the advice and with the concurrence of

all, Mr. and Mrs. Mathieson from Nova Scotia were located on the south

side of Tanna, at Umairarekar, and Mrs. Paton and I at Port Resolution,

on the same island. At first it was agreed that Mr. Copeland should be

placed along with us; but owing to the weakly state of Mrs. Mathieson’s

health, it was afterwards resolved that, for a time at least, Mr.

Copeland should live at either Station, as might seem most suitable or

most requisite. Till the close of the sailing season, his time was spent

chiefly in the _John Knox_, helping Captain Anderson in loading and

disloading the wood and house-building materials betwixt Aneityum and

Tanna; while I was occupied chiefly with the house-building and

preparatory arrangements.

Dr. Inglis and a number of his most energetic Natives accompanied us to

Kwamera, Tanna. There we purchased a site for Mission House and Church,

and laid a stone foundation, and advanced as far as practicable the

erection of a dwelling for Mr. and Mrs. Mathieson. Thence we proceeded

to Port Resolution, Tanna, and similarly purchased a site, and advanced,

to a forward stage, the house which Mrs. Paton and I were to occupy on

our settlement there. Lime, for plastering, had to be burned in kilns

from the coral rocks; and thatch, for roofing with sugar-cane leaf, had

to be prepared by the Natives at both stations before our return; for

which, as for all else, a price was duly agreed upon and was

scrupulously paid. Unfortunately we learned, when too late, that both

houses were too near the shore, exposed to unwholesome miasma, and

productive of the dreaded fever and ague,—the most virulent and

insidious enemy to all Europeans in those Southern Seas.

At both Stations, but especially at Port Resolution, we found the

Natives in a very excited and unsettled state. Threatened wars kept them

in constant terror—war betwixt distant tribes, or adjoining villages, or

nearest neighbours. The Chiefs, at both Stations, willingly sold sites

for houses, and appeared to desire Missionaries to live amongst them;

but perhaps it was with an eye to the axes, knives, fish-hooks,

blankets, and clothing, which they got in payment, or hoped for in

plunder, rather than from any thirst for the Gospel, as they were all

savages and cannibals. They warily declined to promise protection to the

Mission families and the Teachers; but they said they would not

themselves do them any harm, though they could not say what the Inland

people might do;—not a bad specimen of diplomacy, leaving an open door

for any future emergency, and neither better nor worse than the methods

by which the civilized European nations make and break their treaties in

peace and in war! Such promises meant and were intended to mean nothing.

The Natives, both on Tanna, and on my second home at Aniwa, believed

that they had kept their promise, if they inflicted no injury with their

own hands, even though they had hired others to do so. No Heathen there

could be trusted one step beyond what appeared to be his own

self-interest for the nonce; and nothing conceivable was too base or

cruel to be done, if only it served his turn. The depths of Satan,

outlined in the first chapter of the Romans, were uncovered there before

our eyes in the daily life of the people, without veil and without

excuse.

My first impressions drove me to the verge of utter dismay. On beholding

these Natives in their paint and nakedness and misery, my heart was as

full of horror as of pity. Had I given up my much-beloved work and my

dear people in Glasgow, with so many delightful associations, to

consecrate my life to these degraded creatures? Was it possible to teach

them right and wrong, to Christianize, or even to civilize them? But

that was only a passing feeling! I soon got as deeply interested in

them, and in all that tended to advance them, and to lead them to the

knowledge and love of Jesus, as ever I had been in my work at Glasgow.

We were surprised and delighted at the remarkable change produced on the

natives of Aneityum through the instrumentality of Drs. Geddie and

Inglis in so short a time; and we hoped, by prayerful perseverance in

the use of similar means, to see the same work of God repeated on Tanna.

Besides, the wonderful and blessed work done by Mrs. Inglis and Mrs.

Geddie, at their Stations, filled our wives with the buoyant hope of

being instruments in the hand of God to produce an equally beneficent

change amongst the savage women of Tanna. Mrs. Paton had been left with

Mrs. Inglis to learn all she could from her of Mission work on the

Islands, till I returned with Dr. Inglis from the house-building

operations on Tanna; during which period Mr. and Mrs. Mathieson were

also being instructed by Dr. and Mrs. Geddie. To the Tannese, Dr. Inglis

and I were objects of curiosity and fear; they came crowding to gaze on

our wooden and lime-plastered house, they chattered incessantly with

each other, and left the scene day after day with undisguised and

increasing wonderment. Possibly they thought us rather mad than wise!

Party after party of armed men, going and coming in a state of great

excitement, we were informed that war was on foot; but our Aneityumese

Teachers were told to assure us that the Harbour people would only act

on the defensive, and that no one would molest us at our work. One day

two hostile tribes met near our Station; high words arose, and old feuds

were revived. The Inland people withdrew; but the Harbour people, false

to their promises, flew to arms and rushed past us in pursuit of their

enemies. The discharge of muskets in the adjoining bush, and the horrid

yells of the savages, soon informed us that they were engaged in deadly

fights. Excitement and terror were on every countenance; armed men

rushed about in every direction, with feathers in their twisted

hair,—with faces painted red, black, and white, and some, one cheek

black, the other red, others, the brow white, the chin blue—in fact, any

colour and on any part,—the more grotesque and savage looking, the

higher the art! Some of the women ran with their children to places of

safety; but even then we saw other girls and women, on the shore close

by, chewing sugar-cane and chaffering and laughing, as if their fathers

and brothers had been engaged in a country dance, instead of a bloody

conflict. In the afternoon, as the sounds of the muskets and the yelling

of the warriors came unpleasantly near to us, Dr. Inglis, leaning

against a post for a little while in silent prayer, looked on us and

said,—

“The walls of Jerusalem were built in troublous times, and why not the

Mission House on Tanna? But let us rest for this day, and pray for these

poor Heathen.”

We retired to a native house, that had been temporarily granted to us

for rest, and there pled before God for them all. The noise and the

discharge of muskets gradually receded, as if the Inland people were

retiring; and towards evening the people around us returned to their

villages. We were afterwards informed that five or six men had been shot

dead; that their bodies had been carried by the conquerors from the

field of battle, and cooked and eaten that very night by the savages at

a boiling spring near the head of the bay, less than a mile from the

spot where my house was being built. We had also a more graphic

illustration of the surroundings into which we had come, through Dr.

Inglis’s Aneityum boy, who accompanied us as cook. When our tea was

wanted that evening, the boy could not be found. After a while of great

anxiety on our part, he returned, saying,—

“Missi, this is a dark land. The people of this land do dark works. At

the boiling spring they have cooked and feasted upon the slain. They

have washed the blood into the stream; they have bathed there till all

the waters are red. I cannot get water to make your tea. What shall I

do?”

Dr. Inglis told him that he must try for water elsewhere, till the rains

came and cleansed the polluted stream; and that, meanwhile, instead of

tea, we would drink from the cocoa-nut, as they had often done before.

The lad was quite relieved. It not a little astonished us, however, to

see that his mind regarded their killing and eating each other as a

thing scarcely to be noticed, but that it was horrible that they should

spoil the water! How much are even our deepest instincts the creatures

of mere circumstances! I, if trained like him, would probably have felt

like him.

Next evening, as we sat talking about the people and the dark scenes

around us, the quiet of the night was broken by a wild wailing cry from

the villages around, long-continued and unearthly. We were informed that

one of the wounded men, carried home from the battle, had just died; and

that they had strangled his widow to death, that her spirit might

accompany him to the other world, and be his servant there, as she had

been here. Now their dead bodies were laid side by side, ready to be

buried in the sea. Our hearts sank to think of all this happening within

earshot, and that we knew it not! Every new scene, every fresh incident,

set more clearly before us the benighted condition and shocking

cruelties of these heathen people, and we longed to be able to speak to

them of Jesus and the love of God. We eagerly tried to pick up every

word of their language, that we might, in their own tongue, unfold to

them the knowledge of the true God and the salvation from all these sins

through Jesus Christ.

Dr. Inglis and I, with the help of the Natives from Aneityum, having

accomplished all that could be done for lack of lime and sawn wood to

finish the new Mission House on Tanna, made an agreement with the

Natives for knives, calico, and axes, to burn lime and prepare other

things for our return. We then hastened back to Aneityum, that we might,

if possible, get ready for settling on Tanna before the Rainy Season set

in. That was rapidly approaching, and it brings with it discomfort and

unhealth to Europeans throughout all these Pacific Isles.

CHAPTER VI.

_LIFE AND DEATH ON TANNA._

Our Island Home.—Learning the Language.—A Religion of Fear.—With or

Without a God.—Ideas of the Invisible.—Gods and Demons.—My

Companion Missionary.—Pioneers in the New Hebrides.—Missionaries

of Aneityum.—The Lord’s Arrowroot.—Unhealthy Sites.—The Great

Bereavement.—Memorial Tributes.—Selwyn and Patteson at a Tannese

Grave.—Her Last Letter.—Last Words.—Presentiment and Mystery.

Our little missionary ship, the _John Knox_, having no accommodation for

lady passengers, and little for anybody else, except the discomfort of

lying on deck, we took advantage of a trader to convey us from Aneityum

to Tanna. The captain kindly offered to take us and about thirty casks

and boxes to Port Resolution for £5, which we gladly accepted. After a

few hours’ sailing we were all safely landed on Tanna on the 5th

November, 1858. Dr. Geddie went for a fortnight to Umairarekar, on the

south side of Tanna, to assist in the settlement of Mr. and Mrs.

Mathieson, and to help in making their house habitable and comfortable.

Mr. Copeland, Mrs. Paton, and I were left at Port Resolution, to finish

the building of our house there, and work our way into the goodwill of

the Natives as best we could. On landing there, we found the people to

be literally naked and painted savages; they were at least as destitute

of clothing as Adam and Eve after the fall, when they sewed fig-leaves

for a girdle; and even more so, for the women wore only a tiny apron of

grass, in some cases shaped like a skirt or girdle, the men an

indescribable affair, like a pouch or bag, and the children absolutely

nothing whatever!

At first they came in crowds to look at us, and at everything we did or

had. We knew nothing of their language; we could not speak a single word

to them, nor they to us. We looked at them, they at us; we smiled, and

nodded, and made signs to each other; this was our first meeting and

parting. One day I observed two men, the one lifting up one of our

articles to the other, and saying,—

“Nunksi nari enu?”

I concluded that he was asking, “What is this?” Instantly, lifting a

piece of wood, I said,—

“Nunksi nari enu?”

They smiled and spoke to each other. I understood them to be saying, “He

has got hold of our language now.” Then they told me their name for the

thing which I had pointed to. I found that they understood my question,

What is this? or, What is that? and that I could now get from them the

name of every visible or tangible thing around us! We carefully noted

down every name they gave us, spelling all phonetically, and also every

strange sound we heard from them; thereafter, by painstaking comparison

of different circumstances, we tried to ascertain their meanings,

testing our own guess by again cross-questioning the Natives. One day I

saw two males approaching, when one, who was a stranger, pointed to me

with his finger, and said,—

“Se nangin?”

Concluding that he was asking my name, I pointed to one of them with my

finger, and looking at the other, inquired,—

“Se nangin?”

They smiled, and gave me their names. We were now able to get the names

of persons and things, and so our ears got familiarized with the

distinctive sounds of their language; and being always keenly on the

alert, we made extraordinary progress in attempting bits of conversation

and in reducing their speech for the first time to a written form—for

the New Hebrideans had no literature, and not even the rudiments of an

alphabet. I used to hire some of the more intelligent lads and men to

sit and talk with us, and answer our questions about names and sounds;

but they so often deceived us, and we, doubtless, misunderstood them so

often, that this course was not satisfactory, till after we had gained

some knowledge of their language and its construction, and they

themselves had become interested in helping us. Amongst our most

interested helpers, and most trustworthy, were two aged chiefs—Nowar and

Nouka—in many respects two of Nature’s noblest gentlemen, kind at heart

to all, and distinguished by a certain native dignity of bearing. But

they were both under the leadership of the war-chief Miaki, a kind of

devil-king over many villages and tribes. He and his brother were the

recognised leaders in all deeds of darkness; they gloried in

bloodshedding, and in war, and in cannibalism; and they could always

command a following of desperate men, who lived in or about their own

village, and who were prepared to go anywhere and do anything at Miaki’s

will.

The Tannese had hosts of stone idols, charms, and sacred objects, which

they abjectly feared, and in which they devoutly believed. They were

given up to countless superstitions, and firmly glued to their dark

heathen practices. Their worship was entirely a service of fear, its aim

being to propitiate this or that Evil Spirit, to prevent calamity or to

secure revenge. They deified their chiefs, like the Romans of old, so

that almost every village or tribe had its own sacred man, and some of

them had many. They exercised an extraordinary influence for evil, these

village or tribal priests, and were believed to have the disposal of

life and death through their sacred ceremonies, not only in their own

tribe, but over all the Islands. Sacred men and women, wizards and

witches, received presents regularly to influence the gods, and to

remove sickness, or to cause it by the _Nahak_, _i.e._, incantation over

remains of food, or the skin of fruit, such as banana, which the person

has eaten, on whom they wish to operate. They also worshipped the

spirits of departed ancestors and heroes, through their material idols

of wood and stone, but chiefly of stone. They feared these spirits and

sought their aid; especially seeking to propitiate those who presided

over war and peace, famine and plenty, health and sickness, destruction

and prosperity, life and death. Their whole worship was one of slavish

fear; and, so far as ever I could learn, they had no idea of a God of

mercy or grace.

Let me here give my testimony on a matter of some importance—that among

these Islands, if anywhere, men might be found destitute of the faculty

of worship, men absolutely without idols, if such men exist under the

face of the sky. Everything seemed to favour such a discovery; but the

New Hebrides, on the contrary, are full of gods. The Natives, destitute

of the knowledge of the true God, are ceaselessly groping after Him, if

perchance they may find Him. Not finding Him, and not being able to live

without some sort of god, they have made idols of almost everything;

trees and groves, rocks and stones, springs and streams, insects and

other beasts, men and departed spirits, relics such as hair and finger

nails, the heavenly bodies and the volcanoes; in fact, every being and

everything within the range of vision or of knowledge has been appealed

to by them as God,—clearly proving that the instincts of Humanity,

however degraded, prompt man to worship and lean upon some Being or

Power outside himself, and greater than himself, in whom he lives and

moves and has his being, and without the knowledge of whom his soul

cannot find its true rest or its eternal life. Imperfect acquaintance

with the language and customs of certain tribes may easily lead early

discoverers to proclaim that they have no sense of worship and no idols,

because nothing of the kind is visible on the surface; but there is a

sort of freemasonry in Heathen Religions; they have mysterious customs

and symbols, which none, even amongst themselves, understand, except the

priests and sacred men. It pays these men to keep their devotees in the

dark—and how much more to deceive a passing inquirer! Nor need we hold

up our hands in surprise at this; it pays also nearer home, to pretend

and to perpetuate a mystery about beads and crucifixes, holy water and

relics—a state of mind not so very far removed from that of the South

Sea islander, not disproving but rather strongly proving that, whether

savage or civilized, man must either know the true God, or must find an

idol to put in His place.

Further, these very facts—that they did worship, that they believed in

spirits of ancestors and heroes, and that they cherished many legends

regarding those whom they had never seen, and handed these down to their

children—and the fact that they had ideas about the invisible world and

its inhabitants, made it not so hard as some might suppose to convey to

their minds, once their language and modes of thought were understood,

some clear idea of Jehovah God as the great uncreated Spirit Father, who

Himself created and sustains all that is. But it could not be done

off-hand, or by a few airy lessons. The whole heart and soul and life

had to be put into the enterprise. The idea that man disobeyed God, and

was a fallen and sinful creature,—the idea that God, as a Father, so

loved man that He sent His only Son Jesus to this earth to seek and to

save him,—the idea that this Jesus so lived and died and rose from the

dead as to take away man’s sin, and make it possible for men to return

to God, and to be made into the very likeness of His Son Jesus,—and the

idea that this Jesus will at death receive to the mansions of Glory

every creature under heaven that loves and tries to follow Him,—these

ideas had to be woven into their spiritual consciousness, had to become

the very warp and woof of their religion. But it could be done—that we

believed because they were men, not beasts; it had been done—that we saw

in the converts on Aneityum; and our hearts rose to the task with a

quenchless hope!

The Tannese called Heaven by the name Aneai; and we afterwards

discovered that this was the name of the highest and most beautifully

situated village on the island. Their best bit of Earth was to them the

symbol and type of Heaven; their Canaan, too, was a kind of prophecy of

another country, even a heavenly Canaan. The fact that they had an

Aneai, a promised land, opened their minds naturally to our idea of the

promised land of the future, the Aneai of the Gospel hope and faith. The

universal craving to know the greater and more powerful gods, and to

have them on their side, led them, whenever we could speak their

language, to listen eagerly to all our stories about the Jehovah God and

His Son Jesus, and all the mighty works recorded in the Bible. But when

we began to teach them that, in order to serve this Almighty and living

Jehovah God, they must cast aside all their idols and leave off every

heathen custom and vice, they rose in anger and cruelty against us, they

persecuted every one that was friendly to the Mission, and passed us

through the dreadful experiences to be hereafter recorded. It was the

old battle of History; light had attacked darkness in its very

stronghold, and it almost seemed for a season that the light would be

finally eclipsed, and that God’s Day would never dawn on Tanna!

My companion Missionary, Mr. Copeland, had to go to Aneityum and take

charge of Dr. Inglis’s Station, during the absence of that distinguished

Missionary and his devoted wife, while carrying through the press at

home the first complete Aneityumese New Testament. He succeeded

admirably in taking up and carrying forward all their work, and gave

vital assistance in translating the Old Testament into the language of

Aneityum, for his was an exact and scholarly mind. After their return,

he similarly occupied the Station of Dr. Geddie on another part of the

same island, while he sought re-invigoration in Nova Scotia on a

well-merited furlough. Thereafter, he was placed on the island of

Fotuna; and there, with Mrs. Copeland, he laboured devotedly and

zealously, till at last she died and his own health gave way to such an

extent as compelled him to retire from the Mission field. He found

congenial employment in editing, with great acceptance, the Sydney

_Presbyterian Witness_, and thereby still furthering the cause of the

Gospel and of Missions.

A glance backwards over the story of the Gospel in the New Hebrides may

help to bring my readers into touch with the events that are to follow.

The ever-famous names of Williams and Harris are associated with the

earliest efforts to introduce Christianity amongst this group of islands

in the South Pacific Seas. John Williams and his young missionary

companion Harris, under the auspices of the London Missionary Society,

landed on Erromanga on the 30th of November, 1839. Instantly, within a

few minutes of their touching land, both were clubbed to death; and the

savages proceeded to cook and feast upon their bodies. Thus were the New

Hebrides baptized with the blood of martyrs; and Christ thereby told the

whole Christian world that He claimed these Islands as His own. His

cross must yet be lifted up, where the blood of His saints has been

poured forth in His name! The poor Heathen knew not that they had slain

their best friends; but tears and prayers ascended for them from all

Christian souls, wherever the story of the martyrdom on Erromanga was

read or heard.

Again, therefore, in 1842, the London Missionary Society sent out

Messrs. Turner and Nisbet to pierce this kingdom of Satan. They placed

their standard on this same island of Tanna, the nearest to Erromanga.

In less than seven months, however, their persecution by the savages

became so dreadful, that we see them in a boat trying to escape by night

with bare life. Out on that dangerous sea they would certainly have been

lost, but the Ever-Merciful drove them back to land, and sent next

morning a trading vessel, which, contrary to custom, called there and

just in the nick of time. They, with all goods that could be rescued,

were got safely on board, and sailed for Samoa. Say not their plans and

prayers were baffled; for God heard and abundantly blessed them there,

beyond all their dreams. Dr. Turner has been specially used of God for

educating many native teachers and missionaries and in translating and

publishing edition after edition of the Bible, besides giving them many

other educational and religious books in their own language;—blessed

work, in which, while I am writing these words, he and his gifted wife

are still honourably and fruitfully engaged in the holy autumn of their

days.

After these things, the London Missionary Society again and again placed

Samoan native teachers on one or other island of the New Hebrides; but

their unhealthiness, compared with their own happier Samoa or Rarotonga,

so afflicted them with the dreaded ague and fever, besides what they

endured from the inhospitable savages themselves, that no effective

mission work had been accomplished there till at last the Presbyterian

Missionaries were led to enter upon the scene. Christianity had no

foothold anywhere on the New Hebrides, unless it were in the memory and

the blood of the martyrs of Erromanga.

The Rev. John Geddie and his wife, from Nova Scotia, were landed on

Aneityum, the most southerly island of the New Hebrides, in 1848; and

the Rev. John Inglis and his wife, from Scotland, were landed on the

other side of the same island, in 1852. An agent for the London

Missionary Society, the Rev. T. Powell, accompanied Dr. Geddie for about

a year, to advise as to his settlement and to assist in opening up the

work. Marvellous as it may seem, the Natives on Aneityum showed interest

in the missionaries from the very first, and listened to their

teachings; so that in a few years Dr. Inglis and Dr. Geddie saw about

3,500 savages throwing away their idols, renouncing their heathen

customs, and avowing themselves to be worshippers of the true Jehovah

God. Slowly, yet progressively, they unlearned their Heathenism; surely

and hopefully they learned Christianity and civilization. In course of

time a simple form of family worship was introduced into and observed by

every household on the island; God’s blessing was asked on every meal;

peace and public order were secured; and property was perfectly safe

under the sanctifying and civilizing Gospel of Christ. And by-and-by

these Missionaries lived to see the whole Bible, which they and Mr.

Copeland had so painfully translated, placed in the hands of the

Aneityumese by the aid of the British and Foreign Bible Society—that

noblest handmaid of every Missionary enterprise. But how was this

accomplished? As a boon of charity? Listen!

These poor Aneityumese, having glimpses of this Word of God, determined

to have a Holy Bible in their own mother tongue, wherein before no book

or page ever had been written in the history of their race. The

consecrated brain and hand of their Missionaries kept toiling day and

night in translating the book of God; and the willing hands and feet of

the Natives kept toiling through fifteen long but unwearying years,

planting and preparing arrowroot to pay the £1,200 required to be laid

out in the printing and publishing of the book. Year after year the

arrowroot, too sacred to be used for their daily food, was set apart as

the Lord’s portion; the Missionaries sent it to Australia and Scotland,

where it was sold by private friends, and the whole proceeds consecrated

to this purpose. On the completion of the great undertaking by the Bible

Society, it was found that the Natives had earned as much as to pay

every penny of the outlay; and their first Bibles went out to them,

purchased with the consecrated toils of fifteen years! Some of our

friends may think that the sum was large; but I know, from experience,

that if such a difficult job had been carried through the press and so

bound by any other printing establishment, the expense would have been

greater far. One book of Scripture, printed by me in Melbourne for the

Aniwans, under the auspices of the Bible Society too, cost eight

shillings per leaf, and that was the cheapest style; and this the

Aniwans also paid for by dedicating their arrowroot to God.

Let those who lightly esteem their Bibles think on these things. Eight

shillings for every leaf, or the labour and proceeds of fifteen years

for the Bible entire, did not appear to these poor converted savages too

much to pay for that Word of God, which had sent to them the

Missionaries, which had revealed to them the grace of God in Christ, and

which had opened their eyes to the wonders and glories of redeeming

love! They had felt, and we had observed, that in all lands and amongst

all branches of the human family, the Holy Bible is, wheresoever

received and obeyed, the power of God unto salvation; it had lifted them

out of savagery, and set them at the feet of the Lord Jesus. Oh, that

the pleasure-seeking men and women of the world could only taste and

feel the real joy of those who know and love the true God—a heritage

which the world and all that pertains thereto cannot give to them, but

which the poorest and humblest followers of Jesus inherit and enjoy!

My first house on Tanna was on the old site occupied by Turner and

Nisbet, near the shore for obvious reasons, and only a few feet above

tide-mark. So was that of Mr. Mathieson, handy for materials and goods

being landed, and close to the healthy breezes of the sea. Alas! we had

to learn by sad experience, like our brethren in all untried Mission

fields. The sites proved to be hot-beds for Fever and Ague, mine

especially; and much of this might have been escaped by building on the

higher ground, and in the sweep of the refreshing trade winds. For all

this, however, no one was to blame; everything was done for the best,

according to the knowledge then possessed. Our house was sheltered

behind by an abrupt hill from three to four hundred feet high, which

gave the site a feeling of cosiness. It was surrounded, and much shaded,

by beautiful bread-fruit trees, and very large cocoa-nut trees; too

largely beautiful, indeed, for they shut out many a healthy breeze that

we sorely needed! There was a long swamp all round the head of the bay,

and, the ground at the other end on which our house stood being scarcely

raised perceptibly higher, the malaria almost constantly enveloped us.

Once, after a smart attack of the fever, an intelligent Chief said to

me,—

“Missi, if you stay here, you will soon die! No Tannaman sleeps so low

down as you do, in this damp weather, or he too would die. We sleep on

the high ground, and the trade-wind keeps us well. You must go and sleep

on the hill, and then you will have better health.”

I at once resolved to remove my house to higher ground, at the earliest

practicable moment; heavy though the undertaking would necessarily be,

it seemed my only hope of being able to live on the island.

My dear young wife, Mary Ann Robson, and I were landed on Tanna on the

5th November, 1858, in excellent health and full of all tender and holy

hopes. On the 12th February, 1859, she was confined of a son; for two

days or so both mother and child seemed to prosper, and our island-exile

thrilled with joy! But the greatest of sorrows was treading hard upon

the heels of that joy! My darling’s strength showed no signs of

rallying. She had an attack of ague and fever, a few days before her

confinement; on the third day or so thereafter, it returned, and

attacked her every second day with increasing severity for a fortnight.

Diarrhœa ensued, and symptoms of pneumonia, with slight delirium at

intervals; and then in a moment, altogether unexpectedly, she died on

the 3rd March. To crown my sorrows, and complete my loneliness, the dear

babyboy, whom we had named after her father, Peter Robert Robson, was

taken from me after one week’s sickness, on the 20th March. Let those

who have ever passed through any similar darkness as of midnight feel

for me; as for all others, it would be more than vain to try to paint my

sorrows!

I knew then, when too late, that our work had been entered on too near

the beginning of the Rainy Season. We were both, however, healthy and

hearty; and I daily pushed on with the house, making things hourly more

comfortable, in the hope that long lives were before us both, to be

spent for Jesus in seeking the salvation of the perishing Heathen. Oh,

the vain yet bitter regrets, that my dear wife had not been left on

Aneityum till after the unhealthy Rainy Season! But no one advised this

course; and she, high-spirited, full of buoyant hope, and afraid of

being left behind me, or of me being left without her on Tanna, refused

to allow the thing to be suggested. In our mutual inexperience, and with

our hearts aglow for the work of our lives, we incurred this risk which

should never have been incurred; and I only refer to the matter thus, in

the hope that others may take warning.

Stunned by that dreadful loss, in entering upon this field of labour to

which the Lord had Himself so evidently led me, my reason seemed for a

time almost to give way. Ague and fever, too, laid a depressing and

weakening hand upon me, continuously recurring, and reaching oftentimes

the very height of its worst burning stages. But I was never altogether

forsaken. The ever-merciful Lord sustained me, to lay the precious dust

of my beloved Ones in the same quiet grave, dug for them close by at the

end of the house; in all of which last offices my own hands, despite

breaking heart, had to take the principal share! I built the grave round

and round with coral blocks, and covered the top with beautiful white

coral, broken small as gravel; and that spot became my sacred and

much-frequented shrine, during all the following months and years when I

laboured on for the salvation of these savage Islanders amidst

difficulties, dangers, and deaths. Whensoever Tanna turns to the Lord,

and is won for Christ, men in after-days will find the memory of that

spot still green,—where with ceaseless prayers and tears I claimed that

land for God in which I had “buried my dead” with faith and hope. But

for Jesus, and the fellowship He vouchsafed me there, I must have gone

mad and died beside that lonely grave.

The organ of the Church to which we belonged, _The Reformed Presbyterian

Magazine_, published the following words of condolence:—“In regard to

the death of Mrs. Paton, one feeling of grief and regret will fill the

hearts of all who knew her. To add a sentence to the singularly just and

graceful tribute Mr. Inglis pays to the memory of the deceased, would

only mar its pathos and effect. Such language, from one accustomed to

weigh carefully every word he pens, bespeaks at once the rare

excellences of her that is gone, as well as the heavy loss our Mission

and our Church have sustained in her death. Her parents, who gave her by

a double baptism to the Lord, have this consolation, that her death may

exert a more elevating and sanctifying influence for good, than the

longest life of many ordinary Christians. Deep sympathy with Mr. Paton

will pervade the Church, in the sore trial with which he has been

visited.”

Dr. Inglis, my brother Missionary on Aneityum, wrote to the same

Magazine:—“I trust all those who shed tears of sorrow on account of her

early death will be enabled in the exercise of faith and resignation to

say, ‘The Will of the Lord be done; the Lord gave and the Lord hath

taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord!’ I need not say how deeply

we sympathise with her bereaved parents, as well as with her sorrowing

husband. By her death the Mission has sustained a heavy loss. We were

greatly pleased with Mrs. Paton, during the period of our short

intercourse with her. Her mind, naturally vigorous, had been cultivated

by a superior education. She was full of Missionary spirit, and took a

deep interest in the native women. This was seen further, when she went

to Tanna, where, in less than three months, she had collected a class of

eight females, who came regularly to her to receive instruction. There

was about her a maturity of thought, a solidity of character, a

loftiness of aim and purpose rarely found in one so young. Trained up in

the fear of the Lord from childhood, like another Mary she had evidently

chosen that good part, which is never taken away from those possessed of

it. When she left this island, she had to all human appearance a long

career of usefulness and happiness on Earth before her, but the Lord has

appointed otherwise. She has gone, as we trust, to her rest and her

reward. The Lord has said to her, as He said to David, ‘Thou didst well

in that it was in thine heart to build a House for My Name.’ Let us

watch and pray, for our Lord cometh as a thief in the night.”

The Mission Synod at Tanna, on April 27th, 1859, passed the following

resolution:—“That this meeting deeply and sincerely sympathises with Mr.

Paton in the heavy and trying bereavement with which the Lord has seen

meet to visit him in the death of his beloved wife and child; and the

Missionaries record their sense of the loss this Mission has sustained,

in the early, sudden, and unexpected death of Mrs. Paton. Her earnest

Christian character, her devoted Missionary spirit, her excellent

education, her kind and obliging disposition, and the influence she was

fast acquiring over the Natives excited expectations of great future

usefulness. That they express their heart-felt sympathy with the parents

and other relatives of the deceased; that they recommend Mr. Paton to

pay a visit to Aneityum for the benefit of his health; that they commend

him to the tender mercies of Him who was sent to comfort all who mourn;

and that they regard this striking dispensation of God’s providence as a

loud call to themselves, to be more in earnest in attending to the state

of their own souls, and more diligent in pressing the concerns of

Eternity on the minds of others.”

Soon after her death, the good Bishop Selwyn called at Port Resolution,

Tanna, in his Mission ship. He came on shore to visit me, accompanied by

the Rev. J. C. Patteson. They had met Mrs. Paton on Aneityum in the

previous year soon after our arrival, and, as she was then the picture

of perfect health, they also felt her loss very keenly. Standing with me

beside the grave of mother and child, I weeping aloud on his one hand,

and Patteson—afterwards the Martyr Bishop of Nakupu—sobbing silently on

the other, the godly Bishop Selwyn poured out his heart to God amidst

sobs and tears, during which he laid his hands on my head, and invoked

Heaven’s richest consolations and blessings on me and my trying labours.

The virtue of that kind of Episcopal consecration I did and do most

warmly appreciate! They urged me by many appeals to take a trip with

them round the Islands, as my life was daily in great danger from the

savages; they generously offered to convey me direct to Aneityum, or

wherever I wished to go, as I greatly needed rest and change. But, with

a heart full of gratitude to them, I yet resolved to remain, feeling

that I was at the post of duty where God had placed me; and besides,

fearing that if I left once the natives would not let me land again on

returning to their island, I determined to hold on as long as possible,

though feeling very weak and suffering badly from ague.

Sorrow and love make me linger a little to quote these extracts, printed

in the _Reformed Presbyterian Magazine_ for January, 1860, from Mrs.

Paton’s last letter to her friends at home. It is dated from Port

Resolution, Tanna, 28th December, 1858.

“MY DEAR FATHER, MOTHER, AND SISTERS,—

“When I wrote last, we were just about to leave

Aneityum for Tanna, the sphere of our future labours. One can have no

idea of the dark and degraded state of these poor Heathen, unless

really living amongst them. Still we trust that the cloud which has so

long enveloped Tanna will soon be rolled away, and the light of the

Sun of Righteousness irradiate this dark land. We have been here about

two months, and so far the people among whom we live appear to be

friendly. A numerous priesthood reside in the neighbourhood of the

Volcano, from whom we anticipate much opposition, as they know that

wherever the Missionary gains a footing among the people, their

influence is lost. The Tannese are very avaricious. If one renders the

least assistance, he demands a most exorbitant pay; indeed, we can

hardly satisfy them. We have a number of male, but very few female

visitors, the latter being just slaves to do all the work. The men

disfigure their faces with red and black paint, and always carry

spears and clubs. At first I was quite shocked with their appearance,

but one soon becomes accustomed to such sights. They likewise possess

powder and muskets,—guns and tobacco being the chief objects of their

ambition. Indeed, such is their degraded condition that, were not the

power and grace of God all-sufficient, one might almost despair of

ever making any impression on them. All the Natives are in a state of

entire nudity, with this exception, that females wear short petticoats

made of grass. Young girls are very fond of beads, and sometimes have

their necks quite covered with them. They likewise bore holes in the

ear, from which they suspend large rolls (circles) of tortoise shell.

Two or three little girls come about me, whom I am teaching to sew and

sing; but no great good can be accomplished till we master their

language. We have picked up a good many words, and I trust, with the

blessing of God, will soon be able to speak to them of things

pertaining to their everlasting peace.

“Port Resolution is a most beautiful Bay. I have never seen such a

lovely spot. Indeed, everything around delights the eye, and ‘only man

is vile.’ Our house is at the head of the Bay, on the foundation of

Dr. Turner’s, from which he had to fly fifteen years ago. The sea, at

full tide, comes within a few yards of the door. Mr. Copeland is

staying with us now. During the Rainy Season, he is to be sometimes

with us, and at other times with Mr. Mathieson, who is in delicate

health. The thermometer averages from 80° to 85°. The Rainy Season

having now set in, it is not likely we will have any opportunity of

sending or receiving letters for three or four months. I am wearying

very much to hear from you. I can hardly realize that nine months have

rolled away since I left bonnie Scotia! How many changes will take

place before I again revisit it! Both my husband and I are in

excellent health, and, though the heat feels oppressive, we like the

climate very well. A Happy New Year to you all, and many happy

returns! I am writing hurriedly, as a vessel has called, and leaves

to-morrow morning. I expect to get all the news when you write, for my

interest in and affection for home and home-folks have not in the

least abated.

“Now I must conclude; with love to you all, and to all my old

companions, believe me ever your loving daughter and sister,

“MARY ANN PATON.”

Her last words were,—

“Oh, that my dear mother were here! She is a good woman, my mother, a

jewel of a woman.”

Then, observing Mr. Copeland near by, she said,—

“Oh, Mr. Copeland, I did not know you were there! You must not think

that I regret coming here, and leaving my mother. If I had the same

thing to do over again, I would do it with far more pleasure, yes, with

all my heart. Oh, no! I do not regret leaving home and friends, though

at the time I felt it keenly.”

Soon after this, looking up and putting her hand in mine, she said,—

“J. C. wrote to our Janet saying, that young Christians under their

first impressions thought they could do anything or make any sacrifice

for Jesus, and he asked if she believed it, for he did not think they

could, when tested; but Janet wrote back that she believed they could,

and (added she with great emphasis) _I believe it is true!_”

In a moment, altogether unexpectedly, she fell asleep in Jesus, with

these words on her lips. “Not lost, only gone before to be for ever with

the Lord,”—my heart keeps saying or singing to itself from that hour

till now.

Ever since the day of our happy marriage, a strange presentiment

possessed my heart that I should lose her soon and suddenly. Perhaps I

am not the first who has wrestled through such unworthy forebodings—that

that which was so precious and blessed was about to be withdrawn! Our

short united life had been cloudless and happy; I felt her loss beyond

all conception or description, in that dark land. It was verily

difficult to be resigned, left alone, and in sorrowful circumstances;

but feeling immovably assured that my God and Father was too wise and

loving to err in anything that He does or permits, I looked up to the

Lord for help, and struggled on in His work. I do not pretend to see

through the mystery of such visitations,—wherein God calls away the

young, the promising, and those sorely needed for His service here; but

this I do know and feel, that, in the light of such dispensations, it

becomes us all to love and serve our blessed Lord Jesus so that we may

be ready at His call for death and Eternity.

CHAPTER VII.

_MISSION LEAVES FROM TANNA._

Native Tannese.—“Tabooed.”—Jehovah’s Rain.—“Big Hays.”—War and

Cannibalism.—The Lot of Woman.—Sacred Days.—Preaching in

Villages.—Native Teachers.—The War Shell.—Deadly Superstitions.—A

League of Blood.—Chiefs in Council.—Defence of Women.—A League of

Peace.—Secret Disciples.—A Christo-Heathen Funeral.—Clever

Thieves.—Ships of Fire.—H.M.S. _Cordelia_.—Captain

Vernon and Miaki.—The Captain and Our Chiefs.—The _John

Williams_.—Impressions Evanescent.—A House on the Hill.—In Fever

Grips.—“Noble Old Abraham.”—Critics in Easy Chairs.

In the first letter, sent jointly by Mr. Copeland and me from Tanna to

the Church at home, the following statements are found:—

“We found the Tannese to be painted Savages, enveloped in all the

superstition and wickedness of Heathenism. All the men and children go

in a state of nudity. The older women wear grass skirts, and the young

women and girls, grass or leaf aprons like Eve in Eden. They are

exceedingly ignorant, vicious, and bigoted, and almost void of natural

affection. Instead of the inhabitants of Port Resolution being improved

by coming in contact with white men, they are rendered much worse; for

they have learned all their vices, but none of their virtues,—if such

are possessed by the pioneer traders among such races! The sandal-wood

Traders are as a class the most godless of men, whose cruelty and

wickedness make us ashamed to own them as our countrymen. By them the

poor, defenceless Natives are oppressed and robbed on every hand; and if

they offer the slightest resistance, they are ruthlessly silenced by the

musket or revolver. Few months here pass without some of them being so

shot, and, instead of their murderers feeling ashamed, they boast of how

they despatch them. Such treatment keeps the Natives always burning

under a desire for revenge, so that it is a wonder any white man is

allowed to come among them. Indeed, all Traders here are able to

maintain their position only by revolvers and rifles; but we hope a

better state of affairs is at hand for Tanna.”

The novelty of our being among them soon passed away, and they began to

show their avarice and deceitfulness in every possible way. The Chiefs

united and refused to give us the half of the small piece of land which

had been purchased, on which to build our Mission House, and when we

attempted to fence in the part they had left to us, they “tabooed” it,

_i.e._, threatened our Teachers and us with death if we proceeded

further with the work. This they did by placing certain reeds stuck into

the ground here and there around our house, which our Aneityumese

servants at once knew the meaning of, and warned us of our danger; so we

left off making the fence, that we might if possible evade all offence.

They then divided the few bread-fruit and cocoa-nut trees on the ground

amongst themselves, or demanded such payment for these trees as we did

not possess, and threatened revenge on us if the trees were injured by

any person. They now became so unreasonable and offensive, and our

dangers so increased, as to make our residence amongst them extremely

trying. At this time a vessel called; I bought from the Captain the

payment they demanded; on receiving it, they lifted the Taboo, and for a

little season appeared to be friendly again. This was the third payment

they had got for that site, and to yield was teaching them a cruel

lesson; all this we felt and clearly saw, but they had by some means to

be conciliated, if possible, and our lives had to be saved, if that

could be done without dishonour to the Christian name.

After these events, a few weeks of dry weather began to tell against the

growth of their yams and bananas. The drought was instantly ascribed to

us and our God. The Natives far and near were summoned to consider the

matter in public assembly. Next day, Nouka, the high chief, and Miaki,

the war-chief, his nephew, came to inform us, that two powerful Chiefs

had openly declared in that assembly that if the Harbour people did not

at once kill us or compel us to leave the island, they would, unless the

rain came plentifully in the meantime, summon all the Inland people and

murder both our Chiefs and us. The friendly Chiefs said,—

“Pray to your Jehovah God for rain, and do not go far beyond your door

for a time; we are all in greatest danger, and if war breaks out, we

fear we cannot protect you.”

But this friendliness was all pretence; they themselves, being sacred

men, professed to have the power of sending or withholding rain, and

tried to fix the blame of their discomfiture on us. The rage of the poor

ignorant Heathen was thereby fed against us. The Ever-Merciful, however,

again interposed on our behalf. On the following Sabbath, just when we

were assembling for worship, rain began to fall, and in great abundance.

The whole inhabitants believed, apparently, that it was sent to save us

in answer to our prayers; so they met again, and resolved to allow us to

remain on Tanna. Alas! the continuous and heavy rains brought much

sickness and fever in their train, and again their sacred men pointed to

us as the cause. Hurricane winds also blew and injured their fruits and

fruit trees,—another opportunity for our enemies to lay the blame of

everything upon the Missionaries and their Jehovah God! The trial and

the danger daily grew of living among a people so dreadfully benighted

by superstition, and so easily swayed by prejudice and passion.

On Sabbath afternoon, the 6th of January, 1860, in a severe gale, we

were surprised to see a large Sydney vessel come to anchor in the

Harbour at Port Resolution, right opposite our house. Though wind and

sea were both dangerously high, the Captain and all hands, as we were

afterwards informed, coolly went to sleep. Gradually, but quite

perceptibly, the vessel was allowed to drift as if by deliberate

intention, till she struck on the beach at the head of the Bay, and

there was soon broken up and became a total wreck. For this also the

ignorant Natives gave us credit, as for everything uncommon or

disagreeable on Tanna; but we were ever conscious that our Lord Jesus

was near us, and all trials that lead us to cling closer in fellowship

with our Saviour are really blessings in disguise. The Captain of that

vessel, known to us only as “Big Hays,” and his wife, said to be the

wife of a man in Sydney who had run away with him, and his like-minded

crew became by their shocking conduct a horrible curse to our poor

Islanders, and greatly embittered the feeling against us. They were

armed with deadly weapons, and did their wicked will amongst our

Natives, who durst not attack so large a party of desperate and

well-armed men. But they were white people, and so were the

Missionaries; to the savage mind that was enough, and revenge would be

taken upon the first white faces, however innocent, who came within

their power.

The Natives of Tanna were well-nigh constantly at war amongst

themselves, every man doing that which was right in his own eyes, and

almost every quarrel ending in an appeal to arms. Besides many battles

far inland, one was fought closely around our house, and several were

fought around the Harbour. In these conflicts, many men were bruised

with clubs and wounded with arrows, but few lives were lost, considering

the savage uproar and frenzy of the scene. In one case, of which we

obtained certain information, seven men were killed in an engagement,

and, according to Tannese custom, the warriors and their friends feasted

on them at the close of the fray, the widows of the slain being also

strangled to death, and similarly disposed of. Besides those who fell in

war, the Natives living in our quarter had killed and feasted on eight

persons, usually in sacrificial rites.

It is said, that the habitual Cannibal’s desire for human flesh becomes

so horrible that he has been known to disinter and feast upon those

recently buried. Two cases of this revolting barbarism were reported as

having occurred amongst the villagers living near us. On another

occasion the great chief Nouka took seriously unwell, and his people

sacrificed three women for his recovery! All such cruel and horrifying

practices, however, they tried to conceal from us; and many must have

perished in this way of whom we, though living at their doors, were

never permitted to hear.

Amongst the Heathen, in the New Hebrides, and especially on Tanna,

_woman_ is the down-trodden slave of man. She is kept working hard, and

bears all the heavier burdens, while he walks by her side with musket,

club, or spear. If she offends him, he beats or abuses her at pleasure.

A savage gave his poor wife a severe beating in front of our house and

just before our eyes, while in vain we strove to prevent it. Such scenes

were so common that no one thought of interfering. Even if the woman

died in his hands, or immediately thereafter, neighbours took little

notice, if any at all. And their children were so little cared for, that

my constant wonder was how any of them survived at all! As soon as they

are able to knock about, they are left practically to care for

themselves; hence the very small affection they show towards their

parents, which results in the aged who are unable to work being

neglected, starved to death, and sometimes even more directly and

violently destroyed.

A Heathen boy’s education consists in being taught to aim skilfully with

the bow, to throw the spear faultlessly at a mark, to wield powerfully

the club and tomahawk, and to shoot well with musket and revolver when

these can be obtained. He accompanies his father and brothers in all the

wars and preparations for war, and is diligently initiated into all

their cruelties and lusts, as the very prerequisite of his being

regarded and acknowledged to be a _man_ and a warrior. The girls have,

with their mother and sisters, to toil and slave in the village

plantations, to prepare all the materials for fencing these around, to

bear every burden, and to be knocked about at will by the men and boys.

Oh, how sad and degraded is the position of Woman, where the teaching of

Christ is unknown, or disregarded though known! It is the Christ of the

Bible, it is His Spirit entering into Humanity, that has lifted Woman,

and made her the helpmate and the friend of Man, not his toy or his

slave.

To the best of our observation, the Heathen, though vaguely following

some division of the week into seven days, spent the Sabbath on Tanna

much the same as their other days were spent. Even when some were led to

give up manual labours on that day, they spent it, like too many

Christians elsewhere, in visiting friends and in selfish pleasures, on

feasting and drinking. After we had been about one year on the island,

we had a morning Church Service, attended by about ten Chiefs and as

many women and children belonging to them; though, once the Service was

over, they paid no more attention to the Lord’s Day. On some of the more

Northern Islands of the group, the Heathen had a sacred day. Twice,

sailing with the _Dayspring_, we cast anchor at an Island, but could not

see a single Native till next day, when one who could speak broken

English informed us that none of the people had been seen moving about

because they were “keeping their Sunday.” A number of the Tannese spoke

a little English, but they were the worst and most treacherous

characters of all. They had imbibed the profane Trader’s language and

his hatred of Missionaries and their work; and these, added to their own

Heathen prejudices, made them the most troublesome and dangerous of men.

After the Sabbath Morning Service we used to walk many miles, visiting

all the villages within reach, even before we had got so much of their

language as to be able to speak freely to the people. Sometimes we made

a circuit amongst them, ten or twelve miles away and as many back again.

We tried to talk a little to all who were willing to listen; and we

conducted the Worship of Jehovah, wherever we could find two or three

disposed to gather together and to sit or kneel beside us. It was to

flesh and blood weary work, and in many ways disheartening—no responsive

faces and hearts there to cheer us on and lift us up into fellowship

with the Lord! But it helped us to see the people, and to get acquainted

with the districts around; it also secured for us very considerable

audiences, except when they were engaged in war.

No real progress could be made in imparting to them spiritual knowledge,

till we had attained some familiarity with their language. By finding

out, as before recorded, the Tannese for “What is this?” and “What is

his or her name?” we got the names of things and people, and made

amazing progress towards mutual intelligence. We soon found out that

there were two distinct languages spoken in and around Port Resolution;

but we confined ourselves to that which was understood as far as the

other Mission Station; and, by God’s help and great diligence, we were

able ere long to speak to them of sin and of salvation through Jesus

Christ.

Twelve Aneityumese Teachers were at this time living on Tanna, but they

had no Schools, and no Books in Tannese, for that language had never yet

been reduced to forms that could be printed. The work of the Teachers,

besides telling to the people around all that they could regarding

Christ and the Christian religion, found its highest value in presenting

through their own spirit and character a nobler type of life than any

that Heathenism could show.

When a Missionary arrives, the Teacher’s first duty is to help him in

house-building, fencing, and the many manual and other toils required in

organizing the new Station, besides accompanying him on the inland

journeys, assisting him in regard to the language as far as possible,

and in general furthering the cause. But in altogether virgin soil like

that of Tanna, the Aneityumese Teacher, or one from any other island,

had the language to acquire first of all, not less than the European

Missionary, and was therefore of little use except for manual labour,

and that too had to be carried on by signs much more than by words. Not

only has every island its own tongue, differing widely from and

unintelligible to all the others, but even the people on one side of an

island could not sometimes understand or converse with the people on the

opposite side of the same. This rendered our work in the New Hebrides

not only exceptionally difficult, but its progressive movement

distressingly slow.

Word had reached Tanna, that, in a quarrel with Sandal-wooders, the

Erromangans had murdered three white men and a number of Natives in

their employment, in revenge for the white men’s shamefully entreating

and murdering the Erromangans. On Tanna all such news were reported and

talked over, when the Chiefs and their men of war met for their evening

repast—an event that generally wound up with drinking _Kava_, which

first produced intoxication like whisky and then stupefaction like a

dose of laudanum. Excited by the rumours from Erromanga, they had drunk

more than usual, and lay about their Village Drinking-Hall in a helpless

host. Enemies from an inland tribe stealthily drew near, and discharged

their muskets amongst them in the dark, killing one man, and so,

according to their custom, war was known to be declared.

Early next morning, Miaki, the war-chief, despatched his herald to sound

the Conch and summon the people to battle. He made the Harbour and all

the country resound with it for six miles around, and the savage hordes

gathered to the call. Putting our trust in God, we quietly resolved to

attend as usual to our work and await the result. Excitement and terror

drove the Natives hither and thither. One man close to us being nearly

killed, his friends assembled in great force, and with clubs and spears,

tomahawks and muskets, drove the offending tribe more than a mile into

the bush. They, in turn, being reinforced, drove their enemies back

again to the beach. There, seated within hearing distance, they carried

on a grand sort of barbarous-Homeric scolding match, and exhausted their

rage in javelins of reproach. A great relief seemed thereby to ensue,

for the rival Chiefs thereon approached our house and entreated me to

dress their wounds! I did so, and appealed to them for peace, and got

their promise to let that conflict come to an end. Alas, for the passing

influence of such appeals,—for I learned shortly after this, on my

return from Aneityum, where I had gone for a fortnight to recruit from

the effects of an almost three months’ continuance of recurring ague and

fever, that eight of the Harbour people had been murdered near our house

at Port Resolution. The Natives got into a dreadfully unsettled state,

each one wondering in terror who would be the next to fall.

About the time of my dear wife’s death, our brother Missionary, Mr.

Mathieson, also became exceedingly unwell. His delicate frame fast gave

way, and brought with it weakness of the mind as well; and he was

removed to Aneityum apparently in a dying condition. These sad

visitations had a bad effect on the Natives, owing to their wild

superstitions about the cause of death and sickness. We had reason to

fear that they would even interfere with the precious grave, over which

we kept careful watch for a season; but God mercifully restrained them.

Unfortunately, however, one of my Aneityumese Teachers who had gone

round to Mr. Mathieson’s Station took ill and died there, and this

rekindled all their prejudices. He, poor fellow, before death said,—

“I will not again return to Port Resolution, or see my dear Missi; but

tell him that I die happy, for I love Jesus much, and am going to

Jesus!”

Hearing these things, the Natives insolently demanded me to tell them

the cause of this death, and of Mr. Mathieson’s trouble, and of the

other deaths. Other reasoning or explanation being to them useless, I

turned the tables, and demanded them to tell me why all this trouble and

death had overtaken us in their land, and whether they themselves were

not the cause of it all? Strange to say, this simple question turned the

whole current of their speculations. They held meeting after meeting to

discuss it for several days, and returned the message,—

“We do not blame you, and you must not blame us for causing these

troubles and deaths; but we believe that a Bushman must have got hold of

portion of something we had eaten, and must have thrown it to the great

Evil Spirit in the volcano, thereby bringing all these troubles and

curses.”

Another Chief vindicated himself and others thus:—“Karapanamun, the

Auruman or great Evil Spirit of Tanna, whom we all fear and worship, is

causing these troubles; for he knows that if we become worshippers of

your Jehovah God, we cannot continue to fear him, or present him with

the best of everything, as our forefathers have always done; he is angry

at you and at us all.”

The fear of the deaths and troubles being ascribed to them silenced

their talk against us for a season; but very little made them either

friends or foes, as the next event will too painfully show.

Nowhat, an old Chief of the highest rank from Aneityum, who spoke

Tannese and was much respected by the Natives all round the south side

of Tanna, came on a visit to our island. After returning home, he became

very ill and died in a few days. The deluded Tannese, hearing of his

death, ascribed it to me and the Worship, and resolved to burn our house

and property, and either murder the whole Mission party, or compel us to

leave the island. Nowhat’s brother was sent from Aneityum to talk to the

Tannese and conciliate them, but unfortunately he could not speak the

language well; and the Aneityumese Teachers felt their lives to be at

this time in such danger that they durst not accompany him as

interpreters, while I on the other hand did not understand his language,

nor he, mine. Within two days after landing, he had a severe attack of

ague and fever; and, though the vessel he came in remained eight days,

he was prostrated all the time, so that his well-intentioned visit did

us much harm. The Tannese became furious. This was proof positive, that

we were the cause of all their sickness and death. Inland and all along

the weather side of the island, when far enough away from us, they said

that the Natives were enjoying excellent health. Meeting after meeting

was held; exciting speeches were delivered; and feasts were given, for

which it was said that several women were sacrificed, cooked, and

eaten,—such being the bonds by which they entered into covenant with

each other for life or death.

On the morning of the following Sabbath, we heard what were said to be

the dying shrieks of two woman-sacrifices; but we went not near,—we had

no power to save them, and the savages only waited such a chance of

sacrificing us too. Soon after, three women came running to the Mission

House, and in tears implored us to try and protect them from being

killed by their husbands. Alas, we could only plead for them, the

Tannese and Aneityumese Teachers warning us that if we even pled we

would be instantly murdered, as the men were raging mad with the thirst

of blood. At another time, eight inland girls came running to us and sat

in front of our house all day, saying they were afraid to go home, as

the men were fighting with their women and killing them. At nightfall,

however, the poor creatures withdrew, we knew not to what fate.

The inhabitants for miles around united in seeking our destruction, but

God put it into even savage hearts to save us. Old Nowar, the Chief

under whom we lived, and the Chief next under him, Arkurat, set

themselves to rescue us. Along with Manuman and Sirawia they opposed

every plan in the public assembly for taking our lives. Some of their

people also remained friendly to us, and by the help of our Aneityumese

Teachers, warned us of danger and protected our lives. Determined not to

be baffled, a meeting of all our enemies on the island was summoned, and

it was publicly resolved that a band of men be selected and enjoined to

kill the whole of those friendly to the Mission, old Nowar among the

rest, and not only to murder the Mission party, but also a Trader who

had lately landed to live there, that no one might be left to give

information to the white men or bring punishment on the islanders.

Frenzy of excitement prevailed, and the blood-fiend seemed to over-ride

the whole assembly; when, under an impulse that surely came from the

Lord of Pity, one great warrior Chief who had hitherto kept silent,

rose, swung aloft a mighty club and smashing it earthwards, cried

aloud,—

“The man that kills Missi must first kill me,—the men that kill the

Mission Teachers must first kill me and my people,—for we shall stand by

them and defend them till death.”

Instantaneously, another Chief thundered in with the same declaration;

and the great assembly broke up in dismay. All the more remarkable was

this deliverance, as these two Chiefs lived nearly four miles inland,

and, as reputed disease makers and sacred men, were regarded as amongst

our bitterest enemies. It had happened that, a brother of the former

Chief having been wounded in battle, I had dressed his wounds and he

recovered, for which perhaps he now favoured us. But I do not put very

much value on that consideration; for too clearly did our dear Lord

Jesus interpose directly on our behalf that day. I and my defenceless

company had spent it in anxious prayers and tears; and our hearts

overflowed with gratitude to the Saviour who rescued us from the lions’

jaws.

[Illustration: “THE MAN THAT KILLS MISSI MUST FIRST KILL ME.”]

The excitement did not at once subside, men continuing to club and beat

the women for the smallest offence. At every opportunity I denounced

their conduct and rebuked them severely,—especially one wretch, who beat

his wife just in front of our house as well as one of the women who

tried to protect her. On the following day, he returned with an armed

band, and threatened our lives; but I stood up in front of their

weapons, and firmly condemned their conduct, telling that man

particularly that his conduct was bad and cowardly. At length his wrath

gave way; he grounded his club in a penitent mood, and promised to

refrain from such evil ways.

Leaving all consequences to the disposal of my Lord, I determined to

make an unflinching stand against wife-beating and widow-strangling,

feeling confident that even their natural conscience would be on my

side. I accordingly pled with all who were in power to unite and put

down these shocking and disgraceful customs. At length, ten Chiefs

entered into an agreement not to allow any more beating of wives or

strangling of widows, and to forbid all common labour on the Lord’s Day;

but alas, except for purposes of war or other wickedness, the influence

of the Chiefs on Tanna was comparatively small. One Chief boldly

declared,—

“If we did not beat our women, they would never work; they would not

fear and obey us; but when we have beaten, and killed, and feasted on

two or three, the rest are all very quiet and good for a long time to

come!”

I tried to show him how cruel it was, besides that it made them unable

for work, and that kindness would have a much better effect; but he

promptly assured me that Tannese women “could not understand kindness.”

For the sake of teaching by example, my Aneityumese Teachers and I used

to go a mile or two inland on the principal pathway, along with the

Teachers’ wives, and there, cutting and carrying home a heavy load of

firewood for myself and each of the men, while we gave only a small

burden to each of the women. Meeting many Tanna men by the way, I used

to explain to them that this was how Christians helped and treated their

wives and sisters, and then they loved their husbands and were strong to

work at home; and that as men were made stronger, they were intended to

bear the heavier burdens, and especially in all labours out of doors.

Our habits and practices had thus as much to do as, perhaps more than,

all our appeals, in leading them to glimpses of the life to which the

Lord Jesus was calling them.

Another war-burst, that caused immense consternation, passed over with

only two or three deaths; and I succeeded in obtaining the consent of

twenty Chiefs to fight no more except on the defensive,—a covenant to

which, for a considerable time, they strictly adhered, in the midst of

fierce provocations. But to gain any such end, the masses of the people

must be educated to the point of desiring it. The few cannot, in such

circumstances, act up to it, without laying themselves open to be

down-trodden and swept away by the savages around.

About this time, several men, afraid or ashamed by day, came to me

regularly by night for conversation and instruction. Having seen the

doors of the Mission House made fast and the windows blinded so that

they could not be observed, they continued with me for many hours,

asking all strange questions about the new Religion and its laws. I

remember one Chief particularly, who came often, saying to me,—

“I would be an Awfuaki man (_i.e._, a Christian) were it not that all

the rest would laugh at me; that I could not stand!”

“Almost persuaded”:—before you blame him, remember how many in Christian

lands and amid greater privileges live and die without ever passing

beyond that stage.

The wife of one of those Chiefs died, and he resolved to imitate a

Christian burial. Having purchased white calico from a Trader, he came

to me for some tape which the Trader could not supply, and told me that

he was going to dress the body as he had seen my dear wife’s dressed and

lay her also in a similar grave. He declined my offer to attend the

funeral and to pray with them, as in that case many of the villagers

would not attend. He wanted all the people to be present, to see and to

hear, as it was the first funeral of the kind ever celebrated among the

Tannese; and my friend Nowar the Chief had promised to conduct a Service

and offer prayer to Jehovah before all the Heathen. It moved me to many

strange emotions, this Christian burial, conducted by a Heathen and in

the presence of Heathens, with an appeal to the true and living God by a

man as yet darkly groping among idols and superstitions! Many were the

wondering questions from time to time addressed to me. The idea of a

resurrection from the dead was that which most keenly interested these

Natives, and called forth all their powers of inquiry and argument. Thus

the waves of hope and fear swept alternately across our lives; but we

embraced every possible opportunity of telling them the story of the

life and death of Jesus, in the strong hope that God would spare us yet

to bring the benighted Heathen to the knowledge of the true salvation,

and to love and serve the only Saviour.

[Illustration: NATIVES STEALING PROPERTY.]

Confessedly, however, it was uphill, weary, and trying work. For one

thing, these Tannese were terribly dishonest; and when there was any

special sickness, or excitement from any cause, their bad feeling

towards the Worship was displayed by the more insolent way in which they

carried off whatever they could seize. When I opposed them, the club or

tomahawk, the musket or _kawas_ (_i.e._, killing stone), being instantly

raised, intimated that my life would be taken, if I resisted them. Their

skill in stealing on the sly was phenomenal! If an article fell, or was

seen on the floor, a Tannaman would neatly cover it with his foot, while

looking you frankly in the face, and, having fixed it by his toes or by

bending in his great toe like a thumb to hold it, would walk off with

it, assuming the most innocent look in the world. In this way, a knife,

a pair of scissors, or any smaller article, would at once disappear.

Another fellow would deftly stick something out of sight amongst the

whip-cord plaits of his hair, another would conceal it underneath his

naked arm, while yet another would shamelessly lift what he coveted and

openly carry it away.

With most of them, however, the shame was not in the theft, but in doing

it so clumsily that they were discovered! Once, after continuous rain

and a hot damp atmosphere, when the sun shone out I put my bed-clothes

on a rope to dry. I stood at hand watching, as also the wives of two

Teachers, for things were mysteriously disappearing almost under our

very eyes. Suddenly, Miaki, who with his war-companions had been

watching us unobserved, came rushing to me breathless and alone,

crying,—