William Memotas was converted from the darkness of paganism to the light
of the Gospel soon after the introduction of the glad tidings of
salvation among the Cree Indians by that most useful and godly man, the
Reverend James Evans. William's conversion was so clear and positive
that he never had any doubts about it. His progress in the Divine life
was marked and intelligent, and soon he became a useful and acceptable
worker in the Church. He was a Class Leader and Local Preacher of great
power and acceptability.
He was pre-eminently a happy Christian. His face seemed full of
sunshine. There was a genial sweetness about him that caused his very
presence to act as a charm. His coming into our Mission home was like
the sunshine, in which even our little ones basked with great delight.
He was an every-day Christian. Although I was often in his company, and
was thrown in contact with him on some occasions calculated to severely
test him, yet I never heard from him an improper word, or heard of his
having in any way gone contrary to his Christian profession during the
thirty years that he had professed to be a follower of the Lord Jesus.
His greatest aim in life seemed to be to get to heaven; and next to that
he strove to induce others to follow in the same course.
When some of the Indians were getting excited about their lands, and the
treaties which were soon to be made with the Government, William, in
writing to a friend, said: "I care for none of these things; they will
all come right. My only desire is to love Jesus more and more, so as to
see Him by-and-by."
He was a useful Christian, possessing a good knowledge of the roots and
herbs of his native forests, and also having had some instruction given
him in reference to some of the simpler medicines of the whites, he was
often styled our "village doctor." Although seldom remunerated for his
services, he was always ready to listen to the calls of the afflicted,
and, with Heaven's blessing, was instrumental in accomplishing some
marvellous cures. He believed in using a good deal of prayer with his
medicines. His skill in dressing and curing gun-shot wounds could not
be excelled.
Yet, while doing all he could to cure others, his own health was very
poor for several years. He suffered frequently from violent headaches
that caused intense pain. Yet he was never heard to murmur or complain,
but would say to us, when we tried to sympathise with him, "Never mind,
by-and-by I shall get home, and when I see Jesus I shall have no more
pain." About nine days before his departure he caught a severe cold
that settled upon his lungs, which seemed to have been diseased for a
long time. He had from the beginning a presentiment that his sickness
was "unto death," and never did a weary toiler welcome his bed of rest
with greater delight than did William the grave. The prospect of
getting to heaven seemed so fully to absorb his thoughts that he
appeared dead to everything earthly. In life he had been a most loving
and affectionate husband and father, but now, with a strong belief in
God's promises of protection and care over the widow and fatherless, he
resigned his family into the Lord's hands, and then seemed almost to
banish them from his thoughts.
Being very poor on account of his long-continued ill health, which had
incapacitated him for work, he had, when his severe illness began,
nothing to eat but fish. We cheerfully supplied him with what things
our limited means would allow, to alleviate his sorrows and poverty.
One day, when my beloved Brother Semmens and I had visited him, we had
prayer and a blessed talk with him. As we were leaving him, after
giving him some tangible evidences of our love, Brother Semmens said,
"Now, Brother William, can we do anything else for you? Do you want
anything more?" The poor sick man turned his radiant face towards us
and said, "O no, I want nothing now, but more of Christ."
He often conversed with us about his glorious prospects and the joy and
happiness he felt as the pearly gates of the Golden City seemed to be
opening before him. Here are some of his dying words whispered either
to my beloved colleague or to myself. Would that we could portray the
scene, or describe the happy, shining face of the dying man, lying there
on a bed of blankets and rabbit skins in his little dwelling!
He said, "While my body is getting weaker, my faith is getting stronger,
and I am very happy in Jesus' love. Very glad am I that I responded to
Mr Evans' invitations, and gave my heart to Him Who has saved me and
kept me so happy in His love. I am so glad I was permitted to do some
little work for Jesus. He used to help me when I tried to talk about
His love and recommend Him to others. I used to get very happy in my
own soul when thus working for Him. I am happier now than ever before.
I am resting in His love."
Thus would the happy man talk on as long as his strength permitted. It
was ever a blessing to visit him. It wonderfully encouraged and
strengthened us in our work. One day, as we came from one of these
blessed visits, Brother Semmens burst out in almost ecstatic delight,--
"O may I triumph so
When all my warfare's past!"
When we administered to him the emblems of the broken body and spilt
blood of the Redeemer, he was much affected, and exclaimed, "My precious
Saviour! I shall soon see Him. `That will be joy for evermore.'"
Once, when conversing with him, I happened to say, "I hope you will not
leave us. We want you to remain with us. We need you to help us to
preach. We need you in the Sunday School and in the Prayer Meetings.
Your sixty class members are full of sorrow at your sickness. They
think they cannot spare you. Do not be in a hurry to leave us, William.
We want your presence, your example, your prayers."
He listened patiently while I talked, and then he looked up at me so
chidingly, like a weary, home-sick child, and exclaimed, in a voice that
showed that earth had lost all its charms, "Why do you wish to detain
me? You know I want to go home."
Shortly after, his heart's desire was his in actual possession.
Triumphantly he went home. While we felt that our Mission was much the
loser by his departure, we knew it was better for him, and an accession
to heaven's glorious company of one who was worthy to mingle with the
white-robed throng around the throne of God.
There is nothing that more roots and grounds us in this blessed Gospel,
and more stimulates us to labour on, even amidst hardships and
sufferings, than the consistent lives and triumphant deaths of our
Indian converts.
Ignorant as many of them are of the non-essentials of our religion, yet
possessing by the Spirit's influence a vivid knowledge of their state by
nature, and of the Saviour's love for them, they cling to Him with a
faith so strong and abiding, that the blessed assurance of His favour
abides with them as a conscious reality through life; and when the end
draws near, sustained by His presence, even the Valley of the Shadow of
Death is entered with delight.
The Missions among the Indians of North America have not been failures.
The thousands converted from different tribes, and now before the throne
of God, and the many true and steadfast ones following after, tell us
that although many of the toilers among them, as they went with the
seed, literally went forth weeping, yet the harvest has been an abundant
one, and has more than compensated for the tears and toils of the
sewers.