THE GREAT BEREAVEMENT.
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 as goods
being landed, and, as we imagined, 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 about two hundred feet high,
which gave the site a feeling of coziness. It was surrounded and much
shaded, by beautiful breadfruit 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 at 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 Tanna man 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 our only hope of being able to live on the island. Alas, for
one of us, it was already too late!
My dear young wife, Mary Ann Robson, landed with me on Tanna on the 5th
November 1858, in excellent health and full of all tender and holy
hopes. On the 12th February 1859 God sent to us our first-born 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; on
the third day or so thereafter, it returned, and attacked her every
second day with increasing severity for a fortnight. Diarrhea ensued,
and symptoms of pneumonia, with slight delirium at intervals; and then
in a moment, altogether unexpectedly, she died on the 3d March. To crown
my sorrows, and complete my loneliness, the dear baby-boy, 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. 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 labor 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
labored 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!
Dr. Inglis, my brother Missionary on Aneityum, wrote to the Reformed
Presbyterian 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 sympathize 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."
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. O. 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--afterward the Martyr Bishop of Kakupu--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 labors.
Sorrow and love constrain me to linger over her last words. She cried,
"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 forever with
the Lord"--my heart keeps saying or singing to itself from that hour
till now.
It was very difficult to be resigned, left alone, and in sorrowful
circumstance; 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.