DRIVEN HOME.
Let us return to the earlier days spent by our Missionary in Calcutta.
Alexander Duff had started for India a remarkably fine and powerful
man. But hard work, fiery heat, and long fatiguing journeys taken
in the course of his labours, ere many years had passed, brought
him to the brink of the grave. First he had violent jungle fever,
but recovering from this, he was soon again at his work. Remittent
fever came on; Duff struggled on, loth to give way. But when severe
dysentery followed, the once strong man was reduced to a state of utter
prostration. An experienced doctor pronounced the sufferer's state to
be almost desperate, but very little hope was entertained of saving the
life of Mr. Duff.
However, after awaking from a long deep trance, the sufferer so far
revived that he could be taken on board a ship. The sick Missionary
could hardly endure the idea of leaving his work in India. He implored
the doctor to send him on a short voyage and not all the way to England.
"I devoted myself to the Lord," he pleaded, "to spend and to be spent
in His service in this land."
The doctor almost sternly replied, "In the last nine months you have
suffered more from tropical diseases than many who have passed their
lives in India: let not a day be lost!"
And so, looking the wreck of his former self, after four years of very
hard but very successful work, Mr. Duff for awhile took his leave of
the land which he loved. His feelings towards Hindostan were expressed
in words which he wrote at a later period.
"Wherever I wander, wherever I stay, my heart is in India, in deep
sympathy with its multitudinous inhabitants, and in earnest longings
for their highest welfare in time and in eternity!"
It was a comfort to the Missionary that he was able to leave his work
to be carried on by wise and pious men, of a like spirit with himself.
It was on a Christmas day that the ship which carried Mr. Duff and his
family, (for he was now father as well as husband) entered the Firth
of Clyde. Once more the Highlander trod the soil of his dear native
land, once more he looked with admiring eyes on the beautiful city of
Edinburgh, with its bold hills, and picturesque castle.
The sea-air had greatly restored Mr. Duff, and the pure breezes of
Scotland seemed to give him new life. But what measure of strength was
renewed to him, was freely to be expended in the cause of Missions.
Duff had not come home to rest. If he could not work "in" India,
he would work "for" India still. He would rouse Scotland, aye, and
England too, to give more freely, to labour more heartily, to pray more
fervently for the benighted Hindus.
Only the fervour of his zeal enabled the Missionary to undergo the
great fatigues which followed his return to his country. Amidst the
frosts of winter or the heats of summer travelling North, South, East
and West, Mr. Duff addressed hundreds of congregations all over the
land of Scotland. Twice he visited London, and other large cities of
England. Often, when almost exhausted, the Missionary would make long
speeches in crowded meetings, he was known to do so even when just
rising from a sick bed. Mr. Duff's thin gaunt form, his worn wasted
face, pleaded as well as his voice.
On one occasion when Mr. Duff began to speak, it seemed as if he
could only utter a few sentences, and he was conscious that many were
gazing at him, fearful, as was afterwards said, that he would soon
drop on the floor. But oh! the power of eloquence which God gave to
that almost worn-out man! Though Duff's voice at last so failed that
it was an effort to bring out a whisper, and he was so drenched with
perspiration as to feel as if dragged through the sea, the effect of
his speech was wonderful. Down the cheeks of even stern hard men the
tears were flowing. Those who had cared little whether India's millions
went to Heaven or Hell, were now ready to join heart and hand in the
effort to save them. The rich gave largely, children joined in penny
subscriptions, the poor gave gladly of their little. Oh! That the
natives of India knew how much self-denial is shown by some of the
humble subscribers to missions; what warm sympathy and loving pity is
felt in Britain for nations in darkness, who have not yet welcomed the
tidings of Salvation!
A lady who had seen Mr. Duff at a Communion service thus described him:
"He seemed like one from Heaven; and he looked so ill, as if he might
have passed away as he broke the bread."
Let us give a short specimen of the eloquence which, by God's blessing
on it, made hearers not only give money, but in some cases "themselves"
to the holy cause of missions. Let the voice of Duff, Oh! reader, speak
to you as from the dead. You cannot look on the earnest face of him who
almost died in the work of bringing sinners to Christ,—but imagine the
missionary now before you,—imagine his words as addressed to yourself,
his piercing gaze fixed upon you, his appeal made to "your" heart!
"Collect what is fair and lovely in every world, what is bright and
dazzling in every sun . . . and after having united these myriads of
bright orbs into one glorious constellation combining in itself the
concentrated beauty and loveliness of the whole created universe, go
and compare an atom to a world, a drop to the ocean,—the twinkle of
a taper to the full blaze of the noontide sun, then may you compare
even this all-comprehending constellation of beauty and excellence to
Him Who is the brightness of the Father's glory, who is God over all,
blessed for ever!
"And yet, wonder Oh! heavens, and rejoice Oh! earth! this great and
mighty and glorious Being did, for our sakes, consent to veil His
glory, and appear upon earth as a Man of sorrows, whose visage was so
marred more than any man's, and His form more than the sons of men!
Oh! is not this love, self-sacrificing love, love that is 'higher than
the heights above, deeper than the depths beneath!' Oh! is not this
condescension, self-sacrificing condescension, condescension without a
parallel and without a name! 'God manifest in the flesh!' God manifest
in the flesh for the redemption of a rebel race! Oh! is this the wonder
of a world, is not this the astonishment of a universe!"
Then referring to the angels who had witnessed the wondrous coming of
Christ to earth, the fervent speaker went on:
"Tell me, Oh! tell me if in their cloudless vision it would seem
aught so marvellous, so passing strange, did they behold the greatest
and mightiest of a guilty race, redeemed themselves at so vast a
price, . . . issue forth in the footsteps of the Divine Redeemer into
the waste howling wilderness of sin, to seek and to save them that are
lost!"
Duff himself had thus gone forth once, thus was he eager to go forth
once more. In vain was he tempted again and again by offers of
honourable employment, which would have given him ease and comfort in
the land of his birth. It was not that Duff did not love Scotland; no,
he passionately loved his country. He declared that as regarded his
own comfort, he would rather have the poorest hut, with the homeliest
fare, and the bleakest cleft of Scotland, than be the possessor of the
stateliest palace in Bengal.
"I would go," cried the true-hearted Missionary, "not because I love
Scotland less, but because I humbly and devoutly trust that, through
the aid of Divine grace, I have been led to love my God and Saviour,
and the extension of His blessed cause on earth still more."
And so, as soon as he was well enough to return, Mr. (now Dr.) Duff
prepared for another long voyage to India, accompanied by his loving
faithful wife. They both had a sore sacrifice to make, for they left
their fondly loved children behind. For eleven long years the parents
were never to look on their faces again, and one little darling they
were never again to behold in this world. When Dr. Duff preached his
farewell sermon, the listening people were in tears.
We will not stop to give an account of the outward journey. It was a
very long one, and again, before landing in Calcutta, the travellers
encountered the monsoon. For twelve hours the fierce hurricane raged.
But at length the haven was reached, and Dr. Duff again set his foot on
India's shore, to begin once more his loving labours for the welfare of
her children.
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