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A Story of One Short Life, 1783 to 1818.
by Elisabeth G. Stryker.
PREFACE.
Those among us interested in the young people, the boys and girls of our Churches, somewhat realize the lack of material wherewith to stimulate and nourish these young workers. The apiarist studies the nature of the insect which must yield him its sweets, and discovers that "the nature of the cell and the food affects the difference" in the bees. We have long watched our boys and girls, and either we do not care what they yield, or we are dull not to notice that what surrounds them and enters into their minds, is surely deciding their natures. White clover honey can only be made from white clover blossoms. What they read and what they may be induced to read concerns us as mission workers. Individual tastes make many by-paths in the field of literature, but the girls all enjoy the windings of romance, and the boys delight in the highway of adventure. "But,"
they say or think, "Missions, their history and progress are so stupid, they have no decent heroes and heroines. We like Robinson Crusoe, and Little Women, and the Arabian Nights!" But do we not know that the stories of the lives of some of our missionaries, well told, may stand side by side, upon the book-shelves and in the hearts of our young people, with the pages of De Foe and Louise Alcott? Many a boy and girl, charmed by the life and fortune of some unreal, and oftentimes unworthy, hero, has attempted to make copy in his or her own life. Missionary lives are not lacking in the spirit, adventure and romance which are so fascinating. With these ideals in their minds, may we not expect followers of the Judsons, the Moffats, the Fiskes and the Rankins?
The writer, who has humbly undertaken to re-tell an old tale, is neither a De Foe nor an Alcott. She finds she can borrow neither of their pens. Her own, conscious of its inexperience, finds its only relief in the fact that the story is its own strength.
SAMUEL J. MILLS.
CHAPTER I.
ANCESTRY--BIRTH--BOYHOOD--CONVERSION.
Our country is quietly enjoying the benefits of a great activity.
Foreign Missions are still feeling a n.o.ble impulse, and the origin of this force was, under G.o.d, in the heart and brain of Samuel J. Mills.
It is a name known to us, but a history almost forgotten. Only upon the shelves of some antiquarian, or in the undisturbed library of some old homestead can a volume be found bearing the t.i.tle "Mills'
Memoirs." Take it down, blow the dust from the leaves yellow with sixty-seven years, and you will find the narrative related in the stately, old-time style, and somewhat laudatory and expansive.
He had no son, as Adoniram Judson had, gladly to record the details of his busy life. The writer was Dr. Gardiner Spring, who laments having failed in the attempt to obtain what appeared to him to be important information. We are thankful to him for gathering even these rare fragments.
From a sketch of Salmon Giddings, the Damon Memorial, a letter from a relative of Mills, and the life of Henry Obookiah have come a few incidents and facts, but mainly in the record of Dr. Spring have we found our Story of One Short Life. Such hid treasure should find the light, even though quarried by unskillful hands.
Biographies are apt to seem discouraging, in the beginning; the attention being riveted upon the supposed hero, meets with a shock in finding it has been following the history of his great-grandfather.
The scattered energies are then directed upon the grandfather, only to meet with a second delay. Again recovering, and following the father's fortunes, the son, the subject of the work, is at last introduced.
The great-grandfather of our hero must be brought in just long enough to answer one question. He was once asked, "How did you educate four sons at Yale College, and give each a profession?" His reply was, "Almighty G.o.d did it, with the help of my wife." The grandfather (of our hero) was drowned while some of his children were still young.
His widow, committing their babes to the G.o.d of the fatherless, especially offered for His service, a son named Samuel John. He became a minister, and for many years was settled in Torringford, Connecticut. He was eminent for his ability and character. Mrs. Stowe said of him--"He was one ingrain New Englander. Of all the marvels that astonished my childhood, there is none I remember to this day with so much interest as Father Mills." This was the name by which he was extensively known. His wife was a woman exemplary and devout.
Being a.s.sured that the three preceding generations were commandment-keeping, we shall see how the Lord showed mercy unto the fourth. Almighty G.o.d and a true mother secure for many a man's sons, not only education, but large efficiency and honor.
The seventh child, born April 21st, 1783, in this Torringford home, was a son, named after his father, Samuel John. The child grew to be a mighty instrument in G.o.d's hand, which He in His wisdom selected, knowing the fineness of the material with which he dealt. That we too may know something of the tempering of the steel, we are permitted a reverent glance into that pious mother's bosom. Before the birthday came she continually dedicated the little life beneath her heart to the G.o.d who is pleased to accept such gifts. During all his childhood he received the most careful Christian training. Nourished in such a home-garden, and shined on by such mother-light, we cannot wonder that the child grew toward the Sun, and that the roots of religious character struck deep and spread wide.
When but a little child he showed an unusual concern of conscience.
At fifteen the town in which he lived was greatly aroused and revived. His friends and acquaintances received the blessing, and he was deeply interested, but the revival pa.s.sed, leaving him with a bitter, rebellious feeling in his heart.
About this time, one fine cold winter morning, a merry sleigh load drove from his father's house. He, with his brothers, sisters and cousins, about eighteen in all, went to spend a few days with his uncle in West Hartford. Samuel had recently come into the possession of a fine farm. He was gay and ambitious. His companions fearing his good fortune might make him feel a "little too high minded," sought to tease him. The evening before their return, after eating nuts and apples, they agreed to have a little singing. They struck up "Hark, from the Tombs a Doleful Sound," to the tune, Bangor. They sang it slowly and solemnly, now and then casting at him glances from their mischievous eyes. He sat a silent listener, while their song, sung in fun, made an earnest impression of which he could not rid himself.
Soon after his farm was sold, and at eighteen he determined to go to Litchfield and study in the Academy. As he was leaving home, his mother's anxious heart could not let him go without enquiring for his soul's health. Other mothers know the pain she suffered, when he told her "for two years I have been sorry G.o.d ever made me." She replied to him as her wise heart prompted her, and sent him on his way. She went where all mothers of boys must so often go, to her knees, alone with G.o.d.
He had not gone far on his journey when he met a Friend. It was the Good Shepherd, whom that mother's urgent prayer had sent searching for the wanderer. It was as if he had met Christ in his path. He looked up at the great trees and down at the blossoms, and in everything saw G.o.d. He became so impressed with the perfections of the Holy One he had so long resisted, that he lost sight of himself.
He sat down in the woods to wonder and to pray. It was not until some time after that he realized any change in himself, and not until he returned from Litchfield did his father perceive it. His conversion was thorough. Not only was he turned about,--his face G.o.d-ward instead of self-ward,--but he was impelled toward "those sitting in darkness." In his childhood, from his mother's lips, he often heard stories from the lives of Brainerd, Eliot, and other missionaries. He heard her prayers for them and their great undertakings. Once he heard her say, "I have consecrated this child to the service of G.o.d as a missionary." Now it was his joy to follow those n.o.ble examples, and to fulfill his part in the plans of G.o.d and his mother for him.
His parents approved of his determination, though the thought of separation tore their hearts. His mother said to him, "I cannot bear to part from you, my son." When he reminded her of her vow, she burst into tears, and never after made complaint. To his father he said that he could "not conceive of any course of life in which to pa.s.s the rest of his days, that would prove so pleasant, as to go and communicate the gospel of salvation to the poor heathen."
This desire to spread the Gospel grew to be a sublime purpose, and from it he never wavered. He set about his plannings, with this supreme end in view. Thanking G.o.d for his own salvation, he laid his life in G.o.d's hand, imploring Him to use it for those who had as yet no knowledge of that mercy. The Lord took him from the plough, as he did Elisha. He left the field for the college.
CHAPTER II.
COLLEGE--THE HAYSTACK--EFFORTS TO SPREAD THE INTEREST IN FOREIGN MISSIONS.
He entered Williams College in the spring of 1806. During his first visit home in June, he connected himself with his father's church. A college course means to some young men four years of frolic, or worse. To others it is an opportunity to cram knowledge, that shall by-and-by astound the round world and they that dwell therein. To one, at least, it was the time for choosing "smooth stones" for his combat with the giant adversary, whom he was brave enough to meet alone, if need be, "in the name of the Lord of Hosts."
As a scholar he was not brilliant, but as a Christian he was "a bright and shining light." To serve G.o.d was the highest aim of his life. First of all, he served Him upon his knees. He used to pray often and earnestly, alone and with others. He pursued his studies for the after use he might make of them, not for his own accomplishment. As he visited his friends in their rooms, and walked with them through the groves, the subject dearest to his heart was oftenest the theme of his conversation. To one friend he said: "Though you and I are very little beings, we must not rest satisfied till we have made our influence extend to the remotest corner of this ruined world."
His life was so consistent, his disposition so sweet, his manners so winning that every one was his friend. Those who had been unfaithful to their vows were reproved, and those opposed to religion were induced to follow his example. During his first year there was a revival, which seemed to come in answer to his earnest prayers. Many of his comrades became Christians, and so earnestly that they laid aside or sanctified their old ambitions, and prepared to spread through the earth the fire kindled by this devoted youth.
A mission band of boys were examined as to their knowledge of Samuel Mills. "Where was he born?" asked the leader. "Under a haystack!"
replied a small boy. Had the question been, Where was the American Board of Foreign Missions born? the answer would not have been so far from the way. Its baptismal naming came some years later, but under a stack of hay in a meadow, near Williams College, it was born, nursed and prayed over.
About fourteen years earlier foreign missionary organization had begun across the Atlantic. On this side, the attention of Christians had been occupied with their new homes and the needs of the dest.i.tute near at hand. There were societies of domestic missions; but no scheme to touch hands G.o.d-blessed with hands idol-cursed, had ever been devised before the Lord of both put it into the heart of Mills.
"G.o.d called him out of the midst of the bush." The bush was this haystack, but the place became "holy ground." The Lord said: "I have surely seen the affliction of my people, and have heard their cry."
"Come now, therefore, and I will send thee."
This commission filled his soul. He gathered a few of his friends in a grove, to tell them his convictions and his hopes. What was his surprise and joy to find that the "Angel of the Lord" had appeared to them also. A sudden thunder storm came upon them here, but his retreat, his place of safety, was near by. He led them under the haystack, and there they talked together, and with G.o.d. And there they continued to meet through two seasons, and finally formed themselves into the first Foreign Missionary Society of this continent. Its object was "to effect in the persons of its members a mission to the heathen."
From the spot where the haystack once stood, now rises a marble shaft, bearing aloft a globe, underneath which is inscribed:
"THE FIELD IS THE WORLD."
"The Birthplace of American Foreign Missions, 1806."
SAMUEL J. MILLS, JAMES RICHARDS, FRANCIS L. ROBBINS, HARVEY LOOMIS, BYRAM GREEN.
At every commencement, the college president leads to this monument a procession of alumni, students, and guests. Prayer is offered that the spirit of missions may still prevail at Williams, and that the traditions of the past may be maintained.
In these years public opinion was decidedly opposed to the enterprise of these young men. Even good men thought their zeal extravagant and expected it soon to subside. In order to arouse sympathy and a right sentiment, they devised various means. They discussed their projects with Christian people. They distributed missionary sermons. A list was made of the names of distinguished ministers, to whom these young men made frequent visits, urging their suit. Among them, the first to take fire, was Dr. Worcester. With one of them, Dr. Griffin, Mills asked to be permitted to study theology. Said the Doctor: "I had always refused such applications, but from the love I bore to him, I agreed to criticise one sermon a week. After that exercise he would commonly sit and draw letters very moderately and cautiously from his pocket, reading pa.s.sages to me on some benevolent project. At length I perceived that _studying divinity_ with me had been quite a secondary object, that his chief object was to get me engaged to execute his plans. As soon as I discovered that, I told him to bring out his letters and all his plans, without reserve."
Mills became convinced that they could not expect help from the Churches unless the number was increased of young men ready to devote their lives to this cause. He and his friends then separated for the purpose of establishing societies in other colleges. Mills went to Yale, hoping there to find kindred spirits. This was not the case, but G.o.d had sent him for another purpose, and that to know Obookiah, a heathen boy from the Sandwich Islands. This acquaintance greatly increased his zeal.
Sometimes a little seed, wafted by the wind, is borne far from its mother plant to take root in a foreign soil: but its fruit may be returned whence it came. This little lonely heathen child, blown by seemingly cruel and adverse winds, was tossed upon our Christian sh.o.r.es by the good hand of G.o.d. The ship which brought him touched other and idolatrous lands, but he was not to put his feet down till they could be planted in the right place.
That his life touched Mills' life, both being quickened, is perhaps reason enough for giving here a portion of Obookiah's history and that of his native land, if there were not another reason, and that the opportunity, here afforded, of following a stream of influence to its sea.