The Brave Volunteers.
'Jerusalem, my happy home, Name ever dear to me.'
So we sing, and it is the echo of the song that went up from the heart
of many a Jew in olden time.
We all love our native land, our dear old England, yet none of us love
it as the Jews loved Jerusalem. We have only to open the Book of Psalms
to see how dear the city of their fathers was to the heart of the Jews.
'Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised in the city of our God, in
the mountain of His holiness. Beautiful for situation, the joy of the
whole earth, is Mount Zion, on the sides of the north, the city of the
great King,' Psalm xlviii. 1, 2.
'Our feet shall stand within thy gates, O Jerusalem. Jerusalem is
builded as a city that is compact together. Whither the tribes go up,
the tribes of the Lord. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem; they shall
prosper that love thee. Peace be within thy walls, and prosperity within
thy palaces,' Psalm cxxii. 2-4, 6, 7.
These are just samples of countless expressions of love and devotion
for Jerusalem, their happy home. And all the time of the captivity in
Babylon the Jews were longing to be once more in Jerusalem! Oh, to see
the city of cities again; oh, to tread once more the streets of the holy
Jerusalem! They could not even think of their far-off home without
tears.
'By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we
remembered Zion. If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget
her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof
of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy,' Psalm
cxxxvii. 1, 5, 6.
Yet, strange to say, although the Jews were longing for the Holy City
all the time they were in captivity, when they did return to their
native land, and it was possible once more to live in Jerusalem, they
seem to have preferred any other place before it. It was the most
difficult thing to get any of them to consent to take up their abode in
the capital.
Nehemiah found himself face to face with this difficulty when he had
finished the repairs of the city. The rubbish was cleared away, the
walls were built, the gates were set up, the fortresses were
strengthened, but the city itself was nowhere. Here and there houses
were scattered about, here and there was a group of buildings, but
inside the walls were many great empty spaces, large pieces of
unoccupied ground.
The walls had been set up on the old sites, and were about four miles in
circumference. It was a large space to fill, and, as Nehemiah looked
round, he saw that whilst the city was imposing from without, it was a
bare, miserable place inside.
'The city was large and great; but the people were few therein, and the
houses were not builded.'
Not only so, not only was the city unsightly, but there were not enough
inhabitants to protect the walls. In case of an attack, what would be
done? Four miles of wall was a long space to guard and defend, how could
more hands be secured? It was absolutely necessary that Jerusalem should
have a larger population.
Yet Nehemiah found that no one wished to move from the country places
round, and to come into Jerusalem. Every town, every village in Judea
was more popular than the capital. They had rather live in sultry
Jericho than on the mountain heights of Jerusalem; they preferred stony
Bethel to the vine-clad hills of the City of God; they had rather live
in the tiny insignificant village of Anathoth than in the capital
itself.
Why was this? Why had the Jews of Nehemiah's day such an objection to
living in Jerusalem? Why, after longing for Jerusalem all the time of
the captivity, did they shrink from it on their return?
The reason was this. Jerusalem had become the point of danger. All round
the returned captives were enemies. The Samaritans, the Moabites, the
Ammonites, the Edomites, and a host of others were ready at any moment
to pounce down upon the Jews. In case of an attack from their united
forces, what would be the mark at which all these enemies would aim?
What place would have to bear the whole force of the attack? Jerusalem
itself. They would pass by Jericho, Bethel, and Anathoth, as places
beneath their notice, but they would all make for Jerusalem. To live in
the capital was consequently to live in constant danger and in constant
fear. So it is not to be wondered at that they avoided it, and that they
settled down in the villages and left the capital to take care of
itself.
Nehemiah sees that steps must be taken to put a stop to this state of
things. In order to bring about the end he had in view, he first took a
census of the whole nation, and then he required each town and district
to send a tenth of its people to live in Jerusalem.
But of whom was the tenth to consist? How should the number of those who
were to migrate to the capital be chosen? It was done by lot; they drew
lots who were to go and who were to stay. This was probably done in the
usual Jewish way, by means of pebbles. The people of a village would be
divided into tens, then a bag would be brought out containing nine
dark-coloured pebbles and one white one. The ten men would all draw from
the bag, and the man who drew the white pebble would be the one who was
to remove to Jerusalem. By this means the capital would be provided with
about 20,000 inhabitants, and would be in a condition to defend itself
from attack.
No doubt there was much grumbling, and there were many groans and
complaints when the lots were drawn, and those who drew the white stone
found they must give up their little farms, their pretty country houses,
the homes they had learnt to love so well and which they had built for
themselves and their children, the vineyards which their own hands had
planted, the olive yards and fig groves of which they had been so proud,
and which had been so profitable to them, that they must give up all
these which had been so dear to them and move at once into the city in
which they would be in constant danger.
But there were certain brave volunteers. Besides those on whom the lot
fell, a certain number came forward and offered to go of their own free
will and choice to live in the capital. They would break up their
country homes, and for love of their country and love of Jerusalem would
move into the Holy City. The post of danger was the post which most
needed them, and they were not afraid to go to it. Brave, noble men and
women, no wonder that we read that blessings were called down upon them
by the rest of their countrymen. 'And the people blessed all the men
that willingly offered themselves to dwell at Jerusalem,' Neh. xi. 2.
But those brave Jews, who are mentioned here with so much honour, are
not the only ones who of their own free will and choice have gone with
open eyes to the point of danger.
Fourteen thousand pounds arrived in the course of a few days at a
certain house in London, the office of the Church Missionary Society.
One person sent £5,000 with no name, only a day or two afterwards
another sent a second £5,000, whilst £4,000 was contributed in smaller
sums.
For what purpose was this immense sum of money sent? It was forwarded to
the Society in consequence of a very famous letter which appeared in the
_Daily Telegraph_ of November 15, 1876. This letter was written by Dr.
Stanley, the great African traveller. It told of a new country he had
discovered in the heart of Africa, a country inhabited by a nation
clothed and living in houses, and reigned over by a king of some
intelligence named Mtesa. Dr. Stanley had talked to this man, he had
shown him his Bible, and told him something of Christianity, and in this
letter in the _Daily Telegraph_ Dr. Stanley stated that King Mtesa was
ready and willing to receive Christian teachers, if any were prepared to
go out to his kingdom of Uganda.
The result of that letter was, that in a few days no less than £14,000
was sent to the Church Missionary Society, in order that they might have
the means to establish a mission by the shores of the Victoria Nyanza. A
committee meeting was accordingly held, and the Society declared
themselves ready to take up the work.
The money was forthcoming, but a great difficulty stared them in the
face. Where were the men? Who would be found willing to go to such a
place as the heart of Africa? The climate was most trying and dangerous
for Europeans, the food was bad and scanty, and, worst of all, the
country was so unsafe that all who went must go with their life in their
hands, feeling that at any moment they might be attacked and murdered by
the natives.
Would any offer for such a post of danger? Would any be found willing to
volunteer for the work, would any be ready to leave their safe,
comfortable homes in England to take up their abode in Uganda?
Yes, men were found who willingly offered themselves for the work. Eight
noble men at once came forward. A young naval officer, Lieutenant Smith;
a clergyman from Manchester, Mr. Wilson; an Irish architect, Mr.
O'Neill; a Scotch engineer, Mr. Mackay; a doctor from Edinburgh, Dr.
Smith; a railway contractor's engineer, Mr. Clark, and two working men,
a blacksmith and a builder.
'And the people blessed all the men that willingly offered themselves to
dwell' in Uganda.
A meeting was held in the Church Missionary Society's house, to bid them
farewell and to pray for a blessing on their work. Then each of the
eight volunteers was asked to say a few words to the friends who were
taking leave of them. Mr. Mackay, the young engineer, was the last to
speak. Looking round on those who were sending him out, he said:
'There is one thing which my brethren have not said, and which I want to
say. I want to remind the Committee that within six months they will
probably hear that one of us is dead.'
There was a great silence in the room as he spoke these startling words.
'Yes,' he went on, 'is it at all likely that eight Englishmen should
start for Central Africa and all be alive six months after? One of us at
least--it may be I--will surely fall before that. But what I want to say
is this, when the news comes do not be cast down, but send some one else
immediately to take the vacant place.'
Mr. Mackay was not wrong. One of the eight, the builder, died as soon as
he landed in Africa. The seven others set off for the interior to find
the country of King Mtesa. Two of these, Mackay the engineer, and
Robertson the blacksmith, were taken so ill with fever that they were
compelled to go back to the coast.
It was a long wearisome journey, of from four to five months, from the
coast to Victoria Nyanza; for a little way they were able to go in a
boat which they had brought with them from England, but after a short
distance they were obliged to leave the river, and, taking their boat to
pieces, to carry it with them through the tangled forest. When they
arrived at a place named Mpwapwa, it seemed such a good field for
missionary labour that one of their number, Mr. Clark, was left to begin
missionary work there, whilst the rest pressed forward to Uganda.
The great lake at last came in sight, and they were cheered by the sight
of its blue waters. But, when they arrived on its shores, the naval
officer and the doctor were both very ill; for thirty-one days they had
been carried by the porters, being quite unable to walk, and only a few
months after their arrival at the south end of the lake the young doctor
died. He was worn to a skeleton, and suffered terribly. The three who
remained buried him by the side of the lake, and put a heap of stones
over his grave. On a slab of limestone they carved--
'JOHN SMITH,
M.B. EDN., C.M.S.
DIED MAY 11, 1877,
AGED 25 YEARS.'
Now, only the clergyman, the architect, and the naval officer were left
to carry on the work. But that very same year, in December, a quarrel
broke out between two tribes living at the south of the lake. A man
named Songoro, who had been friendly to the missionaries, fled to them
for protection. They were at once surrounded by a party of the natives,
and, on refusing to give up Songoro to his enemies, Lieutenant Smith and
Mr. O'Neill, together with all the men who were with them, were
murdered on December 7.
Only two days before, Lieutenant Smith had written a letter to a friend
in England, in which were these words:
'One feels very near to heaven here, for who knows what a day may bring
forth?'
Only one of the five who had arrived at the lake was now left, Mr.
Wilson, the clergyman. But, thank God, man after man has offered himself
to fill up the vacant places. Some have fallen, some still remain,
labouring on.
The people blessed the men who willingly offered themselves for the post
of danger. Should we not bless them too? Should we not day by day call
down blessings on the brave noble missionaries? Should we not pray for
them, that strength and courage may be given them? Should we not help
them all we can? Let our daily prayer be:
'Lord, bless them all!
Thy workers in the field,
Where'er they be;
Prosper them, Lord, and bless
Their work for Thee--
Lord, bless them all.
Lord, bless them all!
Give them Thy smile to-day,
Cheer each faint heart,
More of Thy grace, more strength,
Saviour, impart;
Lord, bless them all!'
The post of danger is the post of honour, and at that post of honour Mr.
Mackay, the engineer, died, February 8, 1890. For thirteen years he had
bravely held on to his work. He had never had a holiday, he had never
come home to see his friends. The Secretary of the Church Missionary
Society wrote at last, urging him to come to England for rest and
change. His answer to this letter arrived ten days after the sorrowful
telegram which told of his death. He said, 'But what is this you write;
come home? Surely now, in our terrible dearth of workers, it is not the
time for any one to desert his post. Send us only our first twenty men,
and I may be tempted to come to help you to find the second twenty.'
So he was faithful unto death.
The _people_ blessed the men who willingly offered themselves, and
surely _God_ blessed them too, for 'God loveth a cheerful giver.' He who
gives to God grudgingly, or because he feels obliged to do so, had
better never give at all, for God will not receive the offering. The
money must be willingly given, the service must be cheerfully rendered,
the post of danger must be readily occupied, or God will have nothing to
do with it.
The only giver whose gifts He can receive is the cheerful giver, the one
who willingly offers himself.
To be comfortable is the great aim of our lives and our hearts by
nature. But sometimes God calls us to be uncomfortable, to leave the
cosy home, the bright fireside, the comparative luxury, and to go forth
to the post of danger, or difficulty, or trial.
God grant that we may be amongst the number of those who go forth with a
smiling face amongst the people who willingly offer themselves!