My family had for centuries owned the same estate, handed down from
father to son undiminished in size, and much increased in value. I
believe there had been among them in past generations those who feared
the Lord. I know that my father was a man of true piety. "Casting all
your care upon Him, for He careth for you," was his favourite motto.
What a world of doubt and anxiety, of plotting, and contriving, and
scheming, does this trust in God save those who possess it. On this
blessed assurance my father took his stand in all the difficulties of
life. It never failed him, and so we his sons had a good training and a
godly example.
The younger members of each generation followed various honourable
professions, but they failed to rise to high rank in them, owing, I
fancy, to a want of worldly ambition--the general characteristic of our
race. Altogether, however, I believe them to have been a simple-minded,
upright, clear sighted set of people, who did whatever their hands found
to do honestly and with all their might. Such people ought to rise, it
may be said. So they do,--but not to what the world calls the summit.
They generally rise to a position of independence, where they may enjoy
fair scope for the exercise of their mental and spiritual faculties.
There they are content to remain, for a time. This world is not their
rest. Another world opens to their view. In that they see the goal at
which they aim. There is the golden crown. Why then be distracted by
the glittering baubles which are held up to draw their attention from
the real jewel--the gem without price? I am happy in the belief that
such was the reason that my ancestors did not become men of much worldly
note.
The occupant of the family estate had always attended to its
cultivation, and was properly called a gentleman farmer. Unostentatious
and frugal, he never lacked means, in spite of bad harvests or
unexpected losses, to assist the younger members of the family in
starting in life, or to help forward any good cause which required aid.
My father, Paul Harvey, was a perfect type of the family--so was my
elder brother, his namesake. John came next; a daughter followed; I was
his fourth child. He kept up a good old custom--never broken through
from any excuse. An hour before bed-time his children and the whole
household assembled in the sitting-room, when he read and explained a
chapter in the Bible. A hymn was sung, and prayers full of fervour were
offered up to the throne of grace. After this a simple supper was
placed on the table, and we were encouraged to speak on the events of
the day, or on what we had read or thought of. That hour was generally
the pleasantest of the twenty-four. Our father guided, if he did not
lead the conversation, and generally managed to infuse his spirit into
it. Although many of the subjects discussed even now rise up to my
memory, I will mention but one, which had a powerful influence on the
career of some of those present. I had been reading an account of the
Crusades, and my enthusiasm had been unusually stirred up on the
subject. "I wish that I could have lived in those days!" I exclaimed
(I was but a lad it must be remembered.) "What a glorious work those
warriors of old undertook, who with sword and lance, under the banner of
the cross, they went forth to conquer infidels, to establish the true
faith, to recover the blessed land, hallowed by the Redeemer's
footsteps, from the power of the cruel followers of the false prophet of
Mecca. How degenerate are we Christians of the present generation! Who
among us dreams of expelling the Turks from Syria? On the contrary, our
statesmen devote their energies to keep them there. I really believe
that were Peter the Hermit to rise from his grave, he would not find a
dozen true men to follow him."
"Possibly not," said my father, quietly; "though he might find two dozen
fully as wise, and as honest, too, as those he led to destruction. But
has it not struck you, David, that there are other conquests to be
achieved in the present age more important than winning Palestine from
the Moslem; that there is more real fighting to be done than all the
true soldiers of the cross, even were they to be united in one firm
phalanx, could accomplish? Sword and spear surely are not the weapons
our loving Saviour desires His followers to employ when striving to
bring fresh subjects under His kingdom. That they were to be used was
indeed the idea of our ignorant ancestors, when the teaching of a
corrupt Church had thrown a dark veil over their understandings.
Christians only in name, the truth was so disfigured and transformed
among them, that it exercised no influence over their hearts; and though
they believed the Bible to be of value, they regarded it rather in the
light of a mystic charm than the word of God. Thus all the great truths
of our most holy faith were so travestied and changed as to produce
alone a degrading superstition. They believed that the Bible had the
power of exorcising spirits of evil. So it has; but it is not the
closed Bible, which they in their ignorance employed--not the mere
printed paper bound into a volume--unread, or if read, misunderstood, at
which the devil and his angels tremble. No; it is the open Bible--the
Bible in many tongues--read and understood through God's gracious
teaching, sought for by prayer earnestly. It is the blessed gospel of
peace which alone can put to flight debasing superstition, gross
customs, murderous propensities, cruel dispositions, barbarism in its
varied forms, and all the works of darkness instigated by Satan and his
angels. Again, I say that the Bible, and the Bible alone, is the true
crusader's weapon; armed with that sword of the Spirit, with the shield
of faith on his arm, and under the guidance (never to be withdrawn while
he seeks it) of God's Holy Spirit, he may go boldly forth conquering and
to conquer the numberless hosts of heathenism arrayed for battle against
the truth. These weapons are dreaded by the spirit of evil more than
all those iron implements of warfare on which man in his folly and
blindness relies. The victories won by the Bible are lasting in this
world, and not only in this world, but through eternity.
"To drop metaphor, what is, and what long has been the condition of
those lands the crusaders vainly boasted they had won from the followers
of Mohammed? In what state do we find those vast territories of the New
World conquered by Spain? both gained by sword and spear, under a banner
falsely called the `banner of the cross.' Compare these and similar
conquests over heathenism with those victories won in pagan lands by the
Bible--the sword of the Spirit. How great the contrast!"
Our father spoke with far more animation than was his wont. I listened
respectfully, though I confess that at first I did not comprehend the
full meaning of his remarks. Still, they considerably dimmed the bright
halo with which my imagination had surrounded the crusades. My second
brother, John, however, fixing his eyes attentively on our father, drank
in every word he uttered. "Yes, glorious indeed are the victories
gained by the gospel of peace in heathen lands, and happy are those
permitted to fight them," he whispered, with a sigh, after a few
minutes' silence. John was less robust in health than were most of us,
and it was intended that he should devote himself to mercantile
pursuits, for which I had long suspected that he had no great taste;
still, at the call, as he believed, of duty, he had begun the task of
acquiring the necessary knowledge.
"I suppose, father, that you are alluding to the labours of missionaries
in foreign lands?" I observed. "But I have heard it said, that in
spite of all the money expended, their preaching produces but meagre
results. In India, for instance, the Company will not admit them. In
Africa, the climate destroys them. The fanatical Turks and other
Mohammedan nations will not listen to their message; and it would be but
time lost and energies wasted were they to attempt to preach to the
cannibals of New Zealand and the other islands of the Pacific, or to the
almost baboons of Australia and New Guinea."
"You have not, I see, given much thought to the subject, David,"
observed my father, mildly; "God's grace is sufficient for all men. The
gospel is to be preached to all men, without distinction of race, or
colour, or nation, or rank. What says the Bible? `Go ye into all the
world, and preach the gospel to every creature.' Who is to decide then
from what depths of moral degradation the power of God's grace will fail
to lift up a human being? Certainly, we mortals, fallible, helpless,
sinful, as we must feel ourselves, are not capable of judging. All we
have to do is to receive the plain command, and obey it. Oh, there is
scope, believe me, for the exertions, not of one missionary only, but of
hundreds and thousands of the soldiers of the cross in those very
regions of which you have spoken. How can we dare to doubt how the
gospel will in the end be received? `Blessed are ye which sow beside
all waters,' `Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it
after many days.' `In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening
withhold not thine hand, for thou knowest not which shall prosper,
either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good.' Our
duty as disciples of Christ is plain. We are to sow. `God giveth the
increase.' That is not to be our care. We are to `preach the gospel to
every creature.' Some will hear; some will turn away from the truth.
With that we have nothing to do, except to pray and work on, awaiting
God's time. You have none of you seen more than the outside of my Uncle
John's journal. Indeed, I had not myself till lately looked into it.
He was, as you may have heard, a seaman, and he made more than one
voyage to the Pacific. Possessing more education than most officers in
the merchant service in those days, he seems to have carefully noted the
observations he made as he sailed from place to place. His descriptions
are graphic, and he was of an acute and inquiring mind; his remarks,
too, are of value. I think, therefore, that we may glean from it both
amusement and instruction."
We of course all expressed a wish to hear the contents of our relative's
journal, and it was agreed that the next few evenings should be devoted
to its perusal. I should observe that our father's interest in the
subject of missions to the heathen in foreign lands had lately been
awakened by the visit of an old friend, one of that band of great and
good men who were then endeavouring against contumely, ridicule, and
every opposition which the prince of this world could raise, to send the
glad tidings of salvation to the perishing millions scattered thickly on
the surface of the globe, over which midnight--the midnight of heathen
darkness--reigned.
I believe that the thought of our dear father's heart at that time
was--"I have many sons given me by God; surely not one of them have I a
right to withhold from His service; all, all, every one of them should
be freely, joyfully given if it be His will to accept their services."
I do not mean to say that he uttered these words, but that such was the
language of his heart spoken to heaven, I am certain, from conversations
and circumstances which subsequently occurred. Of all the family our
brother, John, appeared to be the most deeply impressed with the remarks
which had dropped from our father's lips, and as I watched his
expressive countenance, I observed the changes passing over it, and am
now certain that feelings were then working within his bosom too deep
for utterance, and which afterwards exerted a powerful influence on his
career.
The following evening, the word of God having been read and our frugal
supper discussed, the looked-for journal, a dogskin-covered, somewhat
worn folio, was produced. John, by a unanimous vote, was chosen to read
it, and I am bound to say that the honest seaman's descriptions gained
considerably by the spirit which our brother's animated voice threw into
them.