A FOREIGN MISSIONARY.
HAPPY in my work as I felt through these ten years, 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 on 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 gently 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 scrutineers 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
mere human 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. 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 sometime 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, Joseph Copeland, 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 am
also 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. At a
meeting of the Foreign 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 a
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
fellows-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.
To his arguments 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 marvelously 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 honor, 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 honoring 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 pleaded 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.
But 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.
On meeting, however, 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 forever 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; though I here most gladly and gratefully record that
all my brothers and sisters, as they grew up and began to earn a living,
took their full share in this same blessed privilege. 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 the 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 forever, in this world at
least.