He looked very anxious, as if weighing his habit against his resolution, and then said,—
“Missi, I give up everything else. If it won’t make Jesus angry, I will keep the pipe. I have used it so long, and oh, I do like it!”
Renewing our advice and counsel, but leaving him free to do in that matter so as to please Jesus according to his own best light, Youwili departed with a conscience so far greatly relieved, and we had many meditations upon the incident. Most of our Natives, on their conversion, have voluntarily renounced the Tobacco Idol; but what more could I say to Youwili, with thousands of white Christians at my back burning incense to that same idol every day of their lives? Marvellous to me, in this connection, has often been the working of a tender conscience, asking itself how to serve and please Jesus, or how to do more for Jesus. Some years ago, for instance, I met a State School Teacher in Victoria, who had been lately brought under the power of the Gospel. In his fresh love, he wanted to do something to show his gratitude to Jesus. He had a young family, and the way was barred to the Mission field. His dear wife and he calculated over all their expenditure, to find out how much they could save to support the work of Jesus at home and abroad. Little or nothing could be spared from what appeared necessary claims. He fell upon his knees, and in tears implored God to show him how he could do something more to save the perishing. A voice came to him like a flash,—
“If you so care for Me and My work, you can easily sacrifice your pipe.”
He instantly took up his pipe, and laid it before the Lord, saying,—
“There it is, O my Lord, and whatsoever it may have cost me, shall now from year to year be Thine!”
He was not what is called a heavy smoker,—anything under one shilling per week being considered “moderate,” as I am informed. But he found that he had been spending thirty-one shillings per annum on tobacco; and every year since he has laid that money upon the altar to Jesus, and prayed Him to use it in sending His Gospel to Heathen lands. I wonder which soul is the richer at the end of a year—he who lays his money, saved from a selfish indulgence, at the feet of Jesus, or he who blows it away in filthy smoke?
And this leads me to relate the story of our First Communion on Aniwa. It was Sabbath, 24th October, 1869; and surely the Angels of God and the Church of the Redeemed in Glory were amongst the great cloud of witnesses who eagerly “peered” down upon the scene,—when we sat around the Lord’s Table and partook of His body and blood with those few souls rescued out of the Heathen World. My Communicants’ Class had occupied me now a considerable time. The conditions of attendance at this early stage were explicit, and had to be made very severe, and only twenty were admitted to the roll. At the final examination only twelve gave evidence of understanding what they were doing, and of having given their hearts to the service of the Lord Jesus. At their own urgent desire, and after every care in examining and instructing, they were solemnly dedicated in prayer to be baptized and admitted to the Holy Table. On that Lord’s Day, after the usual opening Service, I gave a short and careful exposition of the Ten Commandments and of the Way of Salvation according to the Gospel. The twelve Candidates then stood up before all the inhabitants there assembled; and, after a brief exhortation to them as Converts, I put to them the two questions that follow, and each gave an affirmative reply,—