Thou know’st not, Afric! sad of heart and blind,
Unskilled the precious Book of God to read;
Thou canst not know, what moved that soul refined,
Thy lot of wretchedness to heed,
And from her fireside, bright with hallowed glee,
To dare the boisterous surge and deadly clime for thee.
Mrs. Sigourney.
We know not how one may exhibit greater benevolence than to offer life for the spiritual good of the heathen; and he virtually does this who goes to some, at least, of the missionary stations. Those in Africa are the most unhealthy, and their history presents a frightful bill of mortality. In his journal of January, 1846, Dr. Savage, of the Protestant Episcopal mission in Africa, states that during the nine years previous to that date, the whole number of missionaries under the patronage of the different Boards, in Africa, had been sixty-one, and of that number forty were then dead. American Baptists alone lost eleven between 1826 and 1848. Five of them were buried in the single town of Monrovia. With such facts as these, touching African missions, staring the disciple of Christ in the face, it must require no common degree of moral courage for him to embark in the enterprise.
The following letter, by Miss Maria V. Chapin, of Vermont, was written prior to her leaving this country for West Africa, and breathes the sentiments of a self-sacrificing and heroic Christian. Multitudes of like examples, equally as noble, might be pointed out, but it seems to be needless: this letter may stand as a type of the spirit usually exhibited under similar circumstances. It was addressed to the Rev. Dr. Vaughan, then Secretary of the Foreign Committee of the Protestant Episcopal church:
“The question of my personally engaging in a mission to the heathen, has long been before my mind, and received, as it claimed, my most serious and prayerful consideration. This great work is now brought nearer to my mind than I could ever before regard it, and I trust it does not appear the less desirable. I have considered the subject in every light, so far as I am able from the information I have respecting it, and I can never take up the question again, to find reasons for going. My mind is now settled as to the duty, should no unforeseen providence prevent, of leaving home and country for a heathen land. A long adieu to my kindred and friends will rend the heart; I feel already that it will; but at the same time, the prospect of doing good to some poor heathen soul will fill it with joy, and the hope of advancing, in ever so small a degree, the cause of my Redeemer, will be a constant feast to the soul. The silent tear of parental affection and solicitude would indeed overpower me, had I not confidence that He who thus afflicts, will support, my beloved parents. Neither, in the present case, can I think it proper to follow, altogether, the opinion of friends. With the smiles of my heavenly Father, I must be happy, though friends forsake me. I feel an inexpressible pleasure in commending them to God, assured that they will be enabled to give up their child without regret, in the hope that she will do good to perishing souls. And I have, also, that blessed hope, that, should we never again meet in this world, we shall be a happy family circle at the right hand of God. Still, I feel my own insufficiency to decide a question of such importance as that of leaving all that the heart holds most dear on earth, to encounter the toils and hardships of a missionary life. Indeed, I would not decide for myself. I trust solely to Him who has promised grace and strength. Though, at times, great weakness has constrained me to shrink at the prospect before me, I have been consoled and supported in the assurance that God will perfect strength in my weakness. I feel a desire to act in accordance with the will of God; to do nothing which would be displeasing in His sight. I think I am willing to be, and to do, anything for the sake of the glory of God; and if I can only be sure that I am wholly under the guidance of His spirit, I shall be fully satisfied. It is difficult, I know, to analyze one’s feelings, and ascertain the real character of the motives by which we are actuated; I feel my liability to be deceived, and my need of Divine assistance. The only question which concerns me, is, are my motives pure and holy? Never would I bear the missionary standard, without having in my heart the missionary spirit. I have calmly and deliberately weighed the subject, and feel that no attraction from its novelty, no impulse from its moral dignity, can bear up, and carry forward any one, amidst the long continued labors of almost uniform sameness which you represented to me; nothing but a thorough conviction of being in the path of duty, nothing but the approving smile of Heaven, can keep one from despondency, from sinking into hopeless in-activity; but I have calmly and deliberately weighed the subject, and feel a willingness to give up comforts, and submit to privations, to forsake ease and endure toil, to assemble no more ‘with the great congregation,’ but seek the Lord in the wilderness, or in the desert -in short, to make every sacrifice of personal ease and gratification, for the one great object of making known a crucified Saviour to those who are perishing in ignorance and sin. Indeed, what sacrifice can be too great, if what is done for Him who bought us with his own blood can be called a sacrifice, for those to make, who have themselves experienced the efficacy of a Saviour’s blood? I have reflected, that should I go out, cheered by the smiles of friends, and encouraged by the approbation of the churches, yet soon, amidst a people of strange speech, I shall see these smiles only in remembrance, and hear the voice of encouragement only in dying whispers across the ocean. Yet, when I have considered the command of Christ, ‘Go ye and teach all nations,’ -and when in pouring out my soul on this subject to the Father of light, I have realized more of that sweet ‘peace which passeth all understanding;’ objections have all dwindled to a point; I have been enabled, by the eye of faith, to discover the finger of God, pointing me to the benighted African, and have heard his voice saying, with the affection of a Father and the authority of a Sovereign, ‘Come, follow me’ – ‘He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me;’ and adding, for my encouragement, ‘I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.’ I do feel that God calls me to become a missionary, and do, with this belief, resolve to consider myself as devoted to that service, hoping that God will qualify me, and make me a faithful servant for Christ’s sake.”*
* This letter was written in the fall of 1841. Miss Chapin, afterwards Mrs. Savage, embarked for Africa on the twenty-eighth of the following January, and reached Cape Palmas on the twenty-fifth of March. As might be anticipated, her labors soon closed. She died on the field, in December, 1843.
“That life is long which answers life’s great end.”
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Excerpted from Noble Deeds of American Women
(Patriotic Series for Boys and Girls)
Edited by J. Clement
——
With an Introduction by Mrs. L. H. Sigourney
Illustrated
BOSTON: Lee and Shepard, Publishers
Entered by Act of Congress, in the year of 1851,
by E. H. Derby and Co., in the Clerk’s Office of the Northern District of New York
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