MARRIAGE AND FAREWELL.
BUT I did not return alone. The dear Lord had brought to me one
prepared, all unknown to either of us, by special culture, by godly
training, by many gifts and accomplishments, and even by family
associations, to share my lot on the New Hebrides. Her brother had been
an honored Missionary in the Foreign field, and had fallen asleep while
the dew of youth was yet upon him; her sister was the wife of a devoted
Minister of our Church in Adelaide, both she and her husband being
zealous promoters of our work; and her father had left behind him a
fragrant memory through his many Christian works at Edinburgh, Kenneth,
and Alloa, besides being not unknown to fame as the author of those
still popular books, _Whitecross's Anecdotes_, illustrative of the
Shorter Catechism and of the Holy Scriptures. Ere I left Scotland in
1864, I was married to Margaret Whitecross, and God spares us to each
other still (1892); and the family which He has been pleased in His love
to grant unto us we have dedicated to His service, with the prayer and
hope that He may use every one of them in spreading the Gospel
throughout the Heathen World.
Our marriage was celebrated at her sister's house in Edinburgh; and I
may be pardoned for recalling a little event which characterized the
occasion. My youngest brother, then tutor to a gentleman studying at the
University, stepped forth at the close of the ceremony and recited an
Epithalamium composed for the day. For many a month and year the
refrain, a play upon the Bride's name, kept singing itself through my
memory:--
"Long may the _Whitecross_ banner wave,
By the battle blasts unriven;
Long may our Brother and Sister brave
Rejoice in the light of Heaven."
He describes the Bride as hearing a "Voice from the far Pacific Seas";
and turning to us both, he sang of an Angel "beckoning us to the
Tanna-land," to gather a harvest of souls:--
"The warfare is brief, the crown is bright,
The pledge is the souls of men;
Go, may the Lord defend the Right,
And restore you safe again!"
But the verse which my dear wife thought most beautiful for a bridal
day, and which her memory cherishes still, was this:--
"May the ruddy Joys, and the Graces fair,
Wait fondly around you now;
Sweet angel Hopes and young Loves repair
To your home and bless your vow!"
My last scene in Scotland was kneeling at the family altar in the old
Sanctuary Cottage at Torthorwald, while my venerable father, with his
high-priestly locks of snow-white hair streaming over his shoulders,
commenced us once again to "the care and keeping of the Lord God of the
families of Israel." It was the last time that ever on this Earth those
accents of intercession, loaded with a pathos of deathless love, would
fall upon my ears. I knew to a certainty that when we rose from our
knees and said farewell, our eyes would never meet again till they were
flooded with the lights of the Resurrection Day. But he and my darling
mother gave us away once again with a free heart, not unpierced with the
sword of human anguish, to the service of our common Lord and to the
Salvation of the Heathen. And we went forth, praying that a double
portion of their spirit, along with their precious blessing, might rest
upon us in all the way that we had to go.
Our beloved mother, always more self-restrained, and less demonstrative
in the presence of others, held back her heart till we were fairly gone
from the door; and then, as my dear brother afterward informed me, she
fell back into his arms with a great cry, as if all the heart-strings
had broken, and lay for long in a deathlike swoon. Oh, all ye that read
this page, think most tenderly of the cries of Nature, even where Grace
and Faith are in perfect triumph. Read, through scenes like these, a
fuller meaning into the words addressed to that blessed Mother, whose
Son was given for us all, "Yea, a sword shall pierce through thine own
soul also."