University of Virginia Library

AN ADDRESS TO THE MISSIONARIES.

Whilst some the song to chiefs and patriots raise,
With nobler zeal, I loftier Spirits praise;
Men who to please their Maker and proclaim
To nations sunk in night a Saviour's name,
Have left the land where pleasure sits and smiles,
Joyous have left e'en Britain, Queen of Isles;—
Friends, home, contentment, all that life endears,
Freely renounced for anguish, toil, and tears;
Endured the scorching waste, the raging flood,
While fearless on the Rock of Faith they stood.
Must each be launch'd ere long on death's cold stream,
Each pass away—like a forgotten dream!
Oh! higher thought and fearful, doth there wait
For all the sons of men, an endless state!
Is there an hour, momentous, drawing near,
When their last sentence all who live shall hear;
With joy unspeakable, or pangs untold,
Yield up their stewardship, and their Judge behold!
You have believed, and for the deluge wide,
Prepared your ark that safe the storm shall ride.
You know there is. While others till they die,
Deem all things serious but eternity;
You, better taught, a future empire raise,
And spend for God your few and fleeting days.
Like your great Master you your ease disdain,
And combat with the scoffer, want, and pain;
Instructed in th'inestimable worth
Of that great treasure, Heaven bestow'd on earth;
That precious boon, that Book of Life and Light,
Which sheds refulgence o'er a world of night,
You your “exceeding” joy would not disguise,
And brood with sordid pleasure o'er your prize.
Truth, noble, generous, longing to impart,
Conveys a genial influence to the heart;
Its element—is to dispense all good;
It feels for distant nations, brotherhood;
Embraces with one ardent grasp of soul,
Men of all climes from Ganges to the Pole.
Religion, true, with an Ithuriel touch,
May find the miser, but ne'er left him such.
Oh! had the Vision call'd in that deep dream,
Paul eastward to have borne his sacred theme;
With Heaven's rich gifts, to feed the Tartar wild,
And not the Macedonian, Europe's child:
Had no kind Spirit, casting fears behind,
Bless'd with a pulse that beat for all mankind,
(Whose breast the light contain'd) once thoughtful stood,
Framing luxurious schemes for human good;
Beheld where Albion's stately clifts appear'd,
And boldly to the barbarous Briton steer'd;
How had our savage faith its strength maintain'd,
And what e'en here the night that now had reign'd!
Kingdoms for arts and science once renown'd,
As time roll'd on, have plunged in shades profound!
Whilst lands, to ten-fold darkness long resign'd,
Have burst their bonds, and led the sons of mind,
Haply! Oh, Heaven avert the curse severe!
Again the Pagan rite may triumph here;
And regions, now, where men to idols bend,
The altar reverence and the ark defend!
What might so soon God's sleeping wrath awake,
And o'er our Isle, tempt him his scourge to shake,
His lamp remove, his heritage forsake,
As langour, to extend the Gospel Sound,
The Bread of Life, to starving nations round!—
As that disastrous, graceless spirit chill,
Which scorns to work and frustrates those who will!
Soft as the far-off murmuring of the sea,
Sweet as at morn the bird's clear melody,
(Amid the shout of orgies vile) I hear
The still small voice of penitence and prayer!
Sunk as they were in guilt, abased, depraved,
Ten righteous men had once a people saved,
Hope yet is ours! Tho' crowds on every side,
Their Maker's Laws disdain, his Threats deride,
England may yet recount her righteous few,
Salt of our land! and not the least in you.
How will the future sons of sires, who now,
In climes remote, to stocks and statues bow—
(Oh, fearful depth of folly and of crime!
Man, even Man! endued with powers sublime,
Disclaims his rank, to basest things that be,
Lifts the adoring eye, and bends the knee!)
How will such, brought to their maturer sense,
Read with delight the Page of Providence!
How will such hail (without one faint alloy,)
Their happier state, then, with seraphic joy,
Gaze backward far upon the men revered
Who first their tribes with songs of Sion cheer'd,
Brought them the truth, the Book of Knowledge spread,
And o'er the future beams effulgent shed!
What gratulations, what transcendent praise
Their hearts to you shall breathe, their voices raise,
As, basking in the light, a glance they cast
O'er the dark vale, the dreary desert past!
As, on their race of storms, their night of woe,
Safe, from the Mount of God, they look below!
When waning age on age hath roll'd away,
Since you with earth have mix'd your honour'd clay,
While myriads on oblivion's tide are seen,
Borne downward, lost, as tho' they ne'er had been,
Still shall your memories flourish, fresh and green;
Of you, the lisping child shall learn to speak,
As the warm tear steals down the mother's cheek:
Yet nobler thoughts than these your hearts beguile;—
Conscience' sweet voice, and Heaven's approving smile.
Ye Great of Earth, arise!—At once appear
Cæsars and Pompeys, men estranged from fear;
Whose warlike feats the porphyry column bears;
Who view'd the world, and proudly call'd it theirs;
Who lived to tread the steep, to build the name,
Whilst slaughter'd thousands track'd their road to fame.
What grateful heart, slow from the dying bed,
Ere call'd for showers of blessings on their head?
Crowds, rather, in their pangs, with death in sight,
Bewail'd the hour that gave them to the light.
These are not Great! Illustrious men and wise!
You are the Great, whose deeds to glory rise!
You distant realms have sought, with untold pains,
Not to explore fresh marts, or count new gains;
Like some dark fiend, with venom in your eye,
To swell the tide of human misery,
But, with benign delight, your joys to share,
To free the captive, smooth the brow of care,
Throw back the veil, the star of Hope display,
And guide benighted souls to endless day.
Such once was Brainerd, whose ambition, high,
Aspired to teach the Indian “how to die.”
Such Schwartz was found, who 'mong the heathen, long
Despairing roam'd, yet lived to hear the song,
From the wide Banian's sylvan altar, own,
In concords loud, Jehovah, Lord alone!
Such Wesley, Whitefield were; both labourers tried,
Who find in Heaven the peace which Earth denied.
And such was Vanderkempt (his ransom paid),
Who now looks down, nor mourns the choice he made.
Tho' these have past triumphant to the skies,
In the same hallow'd cause, new heroes rise.
Fresh spirits march to conquest, all endued
With unction from above, zeal, fortitude.
Before my eyes, suffused by starting tear,
Names pass, embalmed, and sanctified and dear.
Jowett, and Johnson, Holbeck, Richter, Shaw,
Whom love divine to dangerous realms could draw;
Fox, Carver, Ousely, known and praised afar,
With Morrison, so long a radiant star;
While Carey, Marshman, Ward, that veteran train,
Show, in their turn, what victories Faith may gain;
And if remembrance of the host beside
Here find no place, who equal toils divide,
On nobler records such serene rely,
Theirs is the grand memorial in the sky.
Their post, by dangers compass'd, now may be
Where no observing eye but God's can see,—
Around steep Caucasus, or on the shore
Of ice-bound Greenland, or bleak Labrador;
Or in Columbian Isles (where men with skins
Black as their master's hearts, less black their sins,
Rejoice, with stripes, and sighs and groans opprest,
To hear from you, of Heaven, that world of rest.)
Or they 'mid southern oceans take their stand,
'Mid Afric's dews of death, and burning sand;
In India, where the car-drawn monster rude
Late saw the self-devoted multitude,
Who now, whilst he deplores his honours gone,
Sinks in the mire, with none to help him on!
And thus shall idols vanish, one by one,
Before the opening dawn, the rising sun.
New scenes, like spring, with flow'ry wreaths advance.
New prospects rise, no cloud to overcast.
Religion, who so long “on tiptoe stood,”
Hath past, indeed, o'er the Atlantic flood:
Our Brethren of the West, for greatness born,
Whom fools defame, and then affect to scorn,
With step intrepid send their worthies forth
To cleanse and fructify the moral earth.
(May offspring of one Parent, favour'd, free,
Charm with the sight of “Brethren who agree:”
And hence, one rivalry pervade their breast,—
Who most shall honour God, and serve him best!)
If, sometimes, whilst through distant lands you roam,
You cast a lingering look toward friends and home,
Think oft'ner, on the high, the blissful state,
The palms, the crowns which for the pilgrim wait.
Should pain assault you, still in God believe;
Should sorrow reach, Oh, think for whom you grieve!
Should want, in lonely climes, your steps pursue,
Dwell on his Name who suffer'd more for you.
Guiding the Gospel-plough, gird up your mind!
Heed not the chaff which you have left behind!
Look forward, courage take, behold the end!
What can your hearts deplore, with God your friend!
You seek not earth's reward, nor man's applause,
You all are champions in your Maker's cause;
And round your arduous path, tho' sad, the while
Crowds of admiring angels watch and smile.
The hour must come, perchance it draweth nigh,
The fast unfolding dawn of prophecy,
When the first-born to Zion shall return,
And look on Him whom they have pierced, and mourn;
When o'er earth's verdant fields, one flock shall stray,
One shepherd lead, and all his voice obey:—
When holiest love shall ev'ry heart inflame,
And every tongue confess Immanuel's name!
Warm'd with such hopes, tho' vain to feeble sense,
Be Heaven's eternal word your confidence;
With zeal, around, your glorious mission spread,
And make your Father's will, your daily bread.
May He, in every hour of need provide,
In sickness cheer you, and thro' dangers guide;
Make smooth and plain your path, where'er you go;
Whilst you, like Paul, the Gospel-trumpet blow,
Who with a crown in sight, a heaven, a home,
All things could bear, stripes, bonds, and martyrdom.
Not o'er a sea, unruffled, calm, and clear,
Must you your venturous bark expect to steer;
The sun sometimes may sooth, your fears subside,
And soft and sweet the tide of feeling glide;
When, like the alternate changes of the deep,
Tempests and storms, the low'ring skies may sweep;
Expect, nor be deceived. Alike prepare
Hardships or ease to meet, the soldier's fare.
If friends protect, on God the praise bestow;
If foes assail, with meekness bear the blow;
Nor hope to root out errors, save with toil,
Like theirs, who ere they reap must plough the soil.
Hell, roused from slumber, in his dread array,
Erelong, in rage, may rise to meet the fray;
Call up foul spirits, to himself allied,
And yield with mortal throe, his empire wide;
But he who leads you forth, for your defence,
Will screen you with his own Omnipotence.
Soul reverenced men! Receive th'applauding strain,
Which kings and conquerors might desire in vain.
To you, a distant brother leads the song,
Which thousands join, in chorus loud and long.
'Mid climes that never heard Messiah's praise,
Aspire the Standard of the Cross to raise,
With new delight, proclaim their ransom near,
Go! and a Temple to your Maker rear!
Whilst there are lands, and tribes that countless be,
Who never joy'd to hear our jubilee,
Who never knew the Christian's rich repast,
Pardon and Peace, and hope of Heaven at last,
Strive in the glorious conflict undismay'd,
March boldly, in supernal strength array'd,
Still fearless on the Word of Promise rest,
And trust the more for doubts that haunt your breast.
Where is the generous fire, the Spirit gone,
That once in Cranmer glow'd, in Luther shone?
Shall petty sights alone attract our eye,
The rise and fall of mortal majesty—
Kingdoms and men, that in perpetual round
Blaze and expire? Shall these our prospects bound,
And not your cause—the glory of our age,
(Grandest of all which human thoughts engage!)
Awake our brightest interests, hopes and fears,
The heart that vibrates, and the tongue that cheers?
Those who, beyond the present, see combined,
The mighty Future, trampling time behind,
Feel, with still kindling warmth, in every vein,
Ardour to burst the Heathen's mental chain—
To waft to them our pearl of matchless price,
And wider throw the gates of Paradise.
Where is this Spirit? Lo! she lives and reigns!
Now we behold her, not 'mid ravaged plains,
Where Demons scream for blood, but on thy shore,
Oh! Albion, dear! my Country! evermore
Loftiest of nations! With proud garlands crown'd,
Sending the Truth wherever man is found.
Go on, triumphant! spreading Life and Light!
Check not the Courser with the Goal in sight!
May you who wage the warfare with the foe;
May you who nobly of your wealth bestow;
May you whose hearts implore that Heaven would shield
The tender germ from storms, and increase yield,
Strive in your different ways, more earnest be,
Not fainting, you secure the victory.
Once more, from sickening scenes that strike my view,
Good men, and great, refresh'd, I turn to you.
The Star of Bethlehem, from night profound,
Emerges fair, with sun-like splendors round;
Vision on vision kindling I survey,
'Till with o'erpowering beam it dies away.
And can it be that who the brunt sustain
Should call aloud for aid, yet call in vain?
Bent by the weight, you arduous burdens bear,
The field is vast, but Labourers few are there.
Amazed, the Powers of Darkness stand and feel
Their temples tottering, while their idols reel,
And shall the Valiant strive and only hear
Voices from friends far off that feebly cheer?
With such a prize in view, in such a fight,
May kindred souls spontaneous spring to light,
Sent, and endued with graces from above,
Wise as the serpent, harmless as the dove,
Proud to support your hands, and to extend,
O'er boisterous seas, to earth's remotest end,
Salvation, tidings of the Sinners' Friend.
Again, farewell! and, Oh! while thus you preach
Of Faith and Righteousness in every speech,
And your whole walk confirms the truths you teach,
Fearless, the path pursue, tho' men revile,
On which th'Almighty smiles, and still will smile.
Confusion them shall follow, whilst our eyes
Shall see the Tree of God's own planting rise;
Wide shall it spread, and adverse storms disdain,
Fed by heaven's dew, and nourish'd with his rain;
And let all cry—Wherever shines the Sun,
Thy Kingdom come, O Lord! thy will be done!