Part 3
“16th.—Called at Avery and Brown’s Drug Store and obtained a piece of “diacoln (?) plaster!” Mr. Brown, to whom I had given a report, and then afterwards on Sunday had met at our meeting at the Poor House, came out of the office and slipped a half-sovereign into my hand. I called on Dr. Hattie; found him sick and confined to his house. We had a sweet long talk on the best of themes. We prayed together. He handed me two and a half dollars. The evening was stormy; I slept comfortably; this morning the rain was pouring down; I had some misgivings about plunging out into it, but rose, took some bread and butter and watched for the cars. I considered that I could ride inside to Windsor, and should the rain continue I could remain there until it ceased. It held up about ten o’clock. I reached home about one. Found all well; two letters had been received and four dollars. A letter from Tom Brooks, and one from Matilda Condon. Found the boys better. Willie seems still quite ill, but we have all been attacking the wood-pile lustily. I see that during the week I have received in all $52.52. Thanks be to Him who has heard my prayers. On Feb. 9th I wrote thus:—“Could I say to my friends that I need ten pounds by Saturday night, how many would assist me? I shall tell them no such thing, but I will tell my Lord and my God, and He will help me; I feel a sweet assurance which I here record. I now look up to Him.”
“That was six days ago. I can now record the answer to my prayers. Bless the Lord: O my soul, and all that is within me bless His holy name.
“Feb. 21st. . . . I went out to see the Indians at “Micmac Corner” last evening; I must say I was shocked at the filth and degradation witnessed. I am determined to take up my cross and go out to-day, and read the word of the Lord to them. I do deeply feel my impotency, my utter helplessness in this great matter, but I am consoled with the thought that the “cause is the Lord’s,” and the kingdom is His. I am required “to be found faithful;” this is a great matter; but I am not required to be found “successful!” . . . I prayed earnestly this morning for grace to overcome all reluctance to labour among the Indians. Went out at eleven o’clock, and read several Psalms and chapters. After dinner went out again. Found two or three anxious to learn to read, and who are making good progress. Invited them to come in and see me during the evenings of this week and I would instruct them. Called on several families, and read, explained and prayed.”
Often when Dr. Rand was sick, or jaded with excessive work, the stinging lash of unfriendly criticism seemed to immediately benefit him.
On Oct. 9th, 1875, at a time when he was laid aside by fever, he writes:—
“. . . There was an article in the “Messenger” yesterday in reply to my notice that appeared some time ago with reference to the Micmac Mission, full of banter and ridicule. I have some idea of replying.
“Oct. 10th.—Sent a reply yesterday to the “Messenger” to the man who bantered me. I have rested well, I rose early and feel well. Ate a hearty breakfast. Read 1st and 2nd Timothy nearly all.
“Oct. 11th.—I feel a shrinking from attacking the Micmac. My head was so whirled about with that language when the fever came on that I seem to want to rest from it for awhile.
“Oct. 12th.—Rursus scribendum est mihi Latine. Valetudo mea crescit in dies, et hodie valeo. Versum tempestas est pluvialis, et frigida. Igitur debet me in domo quiescere donec sol splenderet, et ser dilucidus esset et calidus.
“Lord’s Day, Aug. 6th, 1874.—Came to Bear River (Elsetkook) day before yesterday. Found letters from home. Yesterday forenoon it rained heavily, cleared off in afternoon. I went up to Cakwogook and had an interesting time. Met Joseph Salome and found him at the house of a Frenchman named Cumean whose wife is part Indian. He lives in quite a respectable looking house. He invited me in. I found Salome more kind than ever before. Toosei has been down, and I find that he has been reading the Scriptures and talking with Salome. I spoke to the Frenchman, and sang a hymn in French; quite a company gathered around before we ended our conversation. I read several chapters in Exodus. To-day I am to preach to the white people.
“Sept. 3rd. . . . In the afternoon went to see Ben Brooks. Found quite a number there. Read chapters 13-17 of John’s Gospel. Had quite a little meeting. Read the story of Tobit in Castelio’s Latin translation. What a ridiculous story mixed with many pious meditations and prayers and sayings. How different it is after all from real Scripture! I think there is internal evidence that it was composed before the destruction of the second Temple, and after the destruction of the first.
“I spent the forenoon at home reading and studying the Bible, chiefly in Castelio’s Latin version. In the afternoon I went to see Ben Brooks. Read from my Revised Version in Micmac the 14th and on to the 19th inclusive. I had him, his daughter, and son and daughter-in-law for very attentive auditors. He told me that the priests tried to get them to burn our books.”
Writing of his work after almost twenty-five years’ labour, Dr. Rand says: “But a small number have openly renounced their connection with the Romish Church; but I have reason to know that a widespread enquiry has been awakened among them. Of several I have good reason to hope. But I have never made it a special and direct object to induce them to “change their religion,” as it is called, and especially during the past few years, I have been so dissatisfied with the Protestant churches generally, that I have had no heart to urge the Indians, even if I believed them converted, to leave their church and join ours.”
At another time, writing of particular cases of blessing among the Micmacs, he says:—“Yes, indeed, I mind me of Joe Brooks, my first Indian teacher, for whose conversion I long waited and prayed, and the tears and the sobs came well nigh choking me with joy, not grief, as I remember I found him once in the neighborhood of Wolfville, ill in body, and still more so in mind, under a deep sense of his sins. And then how his eyes sparkled when, about a fortnight after, he told me he had found peace—living about a year after, a consistent, devoted life, and dying full of joy and peace, in the neighbourhood of St. John, N. B., and little _Mose_, his son, went about the same time in peace. Then I think of Lewie Brooks, another son, with whom I often took sweet counsel, and who assured me those precious books, those Gospels and Psalms sustained him through the hours of agony he had often to endure from that terrible disease, the asthma; and from whom the priest laboured in vain to wrest and burn the books he so highly prized. In relating the story he said: “They cannot get the books away from us.” And then follows his daughter, Mrs. Paul, who died here at Hantsport some years later, who gave us the most satisfactory evidence that, living and dying, she was the Lord’s. Then I think of Newton Glode, (Claude) and his brother Joe, two of the finest young men I ever knew, residing formerly in Annapolis County, but living at the end of their earthly career at Cornwallis, who for industry, honesty, and everything good, would have adorned any rank or condition of life. What joyful times we had together over the Word, and were not the Christian friends who often visited them in their last sickness, delighted to tell me of the proofs they gave of their firm, unshaken trust in the Lord Jesus. And then I think of little Harriet Christmas (daughter of poor Ben, and his excellent, amiable Christian wife,) whose remarkable death and angelic faith Rev. Mr. Dimock of Truro, her minister, described so beautifully in the _Christian Messenger_ at the time. And Newel also, her eldest brother, who lingered in peace and hope for months, and died in Yarmouth some years ago, of whom from his mother and others I heard a most satisfactory account. And I must not pass over another Joe Glode who closed his career in Kentville a year or two ago. Yes, and there had been another Joe, Joe Michæl, who will be remembered possibly, as having been sick all one winter near Upper Dyke Village, who, with very little help had learned to read those wonderful books, so dreaded by the agents of Romanism, and the contents of which had cheered him as he walked through the dark valley, some twenty years ago. Nor may I forget to mention John Paul, whose happy death inspired me at the time not only to continue in my work, but to write the verses on the “Dying Indian’s Dream,” for which I have received so many thanks.
“These, and they are not all, of those who have gone, and who in life and death have cheered the heart of the writer, amidst all the “discouraging history of the Micmac Mission.” And perhaps I could name as many or more among the living were it proper to do so, of whom I have good hope. The Lord be praised!
“And, names and numbers aside, can we doubt that the Word of God may have been blessed to many souls of whom we know nothing. It was only by an apparent accident that I learned Joe Michæl could read the Scriptures.” “How did you learn?” I inquired of him. “Ben Brooks taught me the sounds of the letters, and I drilled out the rest by myself,” he replied. “I saw him but a few times. One day I passed the encampment, and all the rest were away, and he was alone. As I went up to his wigwam I stood and listened with great interest for a while before I went in. He was reading the Scriptures in Micmac, and the interview that followed I shall not soon forget. And I heard of a case at Shubenacadie where a priest went to see a young Indian who was dying of consumption. He found him reading the Gospel. He snatched the book out of the poor fellow’s hand and committed it to the flames. But he soon found out, and had to confess to the boy, that he had been rash, and difficult was it to obtain a hearing from the indignant and outraged “untutored Indian.” . . . “A white man once consented to carry me to an Indian’s hut, which we reached in a boat. . . . I never learned what the effect was on them, but the gentleman who was with me assured me afterwards that it was the means of his own conversion.”
One more extract written two years before his death, which leaves the robe of responsibility resting upon all Christians, and we are done for the present.
“May 26th, 1888. . . . They (the Micmacs) have equal access to the free schools with all others, and are extensively taking advantage of the privilege. Let them mingle with their white brothers, learn the arts of civilization as they are doing, and become useful citizens. Let the white people abandon their abominable and unreasonable ideas of caste. Let the ministers, everywhere, each look upon the Indians in his neighborhood as a part of his charge like all other poor sinners—then there will be no need of a separate Mission and a separate establishment for them.”
Here one can almost see the aged warrior,—for his incessant labour, and his malady which made it necessary for him to carry a surgical instrument with him for years, had at last weakened his wonderful vitality—like the venerable Apostle Paul whom he resembled in so many respects, at last saying: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished my course.” And the burden passes from his shoulders, not to those of one other, but to many others, as he cheerfully goes on to walk with God in that larger and fuller life. Let it be said to our shame that we, who were entrusted with that burden, have not discharged our trust as faithfully as it was our privilege to have done.
Thus did the venerable Dr. Rand labour on incessantly day after day, a faithful representative of the meek and lowly Jesus. I might give you page after page from his Diary which records his heart-searching questionings, and his exuberant exclamations of joy over victories of which God alone knew the magnitude. Page after page might be transcribed until the volume would be as large as that which records the labours of David Brainerd, which this in character so much resembles; but my present purpose is accomplished; a glimpse has been given of Dr. Rand, the Micmac Missionary, at his life-work; and, _Kespeadooksit_,—the story is ended.
It may be that at some future time a life of the remarkable man may be written, narrating in order all the incidents from his birth at Brooklyn Street, Cornwallis, N. S.; his lessons respecting truth and righteousness learned when ten years old at his grandmother Tupper’s knee; his experiences on the farm, at his trade, in school, and in the work of the pastorate; his unremitting toil as Missionary to the Micmacs; and all the rewards that came to him, encouraging him to press on in spite of every discouragement. Mention might here be made, however, of the letter from Gladstone, saying: “I at once admit that your version of the ‘Rock of Ages’ is more exact than mine;” and of his having received the degree of L.L.D. from Queen’s College, that of D.D. from Acadia, and that of D. C. L. from Kings,—fitting acknowledgments of his remarkable achievements and contributions towards the progress of mankind.
But, come with me, and let us rest for a moment where I sat last June in the Cemetery at Hantsport. There stands a neat red granite monument, erected by his daughter, bearing this inscription:
DR. RAND,
MICMAC MISSIONARY,
Fell asleep Oct. 4, 1890.
Aged 80 years.
“There shall I wear a starry crown And triumph in almighty grace, While all the armies of the skies Join in my glorious Leader’s praise.”
MICMAC MISSION
MICMAC MISSION.
* * * * *
FOURTH QUARTERLY REPORT, 1865.
* * * * *
(Re-printed verbatim from old leaflet.) _To the Patrons and Friends of the Micmac Missionary Society._
Christian Friends,—It may be remembered that at the Annual Meeting of the Micmac Missionary Society held in January last year, it was agreed that the Rev. Mr. Rand, the Missionary, should furnish the Committee a Quarterly Report, to be published in the newspapers, if they saw fit. The Committee have carried out this arrangement up to the present, and the fourth quarterly report, which was read and adopted at the meeting on Monday last, is herewith presented to you. It speaks for itself.
I remain, Christian friends, Yours sincerely, JAS. FARQUHAR, _Sec._
* * * * *
THE FOURTH QUARTERLY REPORT OF THE MICMAC MISSION, FOR THE YEAR ENDING DECEMBER 31ST, 1865.
1. MISSIONARY LABOR.
This has been continued as usual. Indians have been visited at Hantsport, Cornwallis, Mount Uniacke, Londonderry, Amherst, Shediac and St. John, N. B. My reception has been uniformly kind, and without an exception good attention has been given to the Word of God, and to religions instruction. My aim has been to explain the way of salvation, and to direct them to the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world. White friends have occasionally accompanied me on these visits. Invariably the solemn attention witnessed has surprised, impressed and pleased them. They have owned that, had they been unacquainted with the facts of the case, they could never have imagined these people to be other than Protestants and devout Christians. For the sake of brevity I will omit details except in two cases. In one place in New Brunswick, I visited within a radius of about seven or eight miles, four small encampments, and some of them twice. The chief resided there and I called on him twice. I have known him for years. He treated me very courteously and at our last interview asked me to tell him more particularly what my object is in going round among the Indians. I told him. I said, I am a minister of the Gospel. My sole business as such is to read, and expound the Word of God, both publicly and privately, both among the white people and among the Indians, to teach the way of salvation and to urge people to love and serve our Lord Jesus Christ. I told him further that since I could speak Micmac, and read the Scriptures in their language, that I took special delight in going among them, to lead and sing and pray, and talk with them of their soul’s salvation. He enquired how the Indians around in that place received me. I hesitated for a moment whether I ought to tell him, as it might possibly be the means of bringing some of them into trouble. But after a little reflection and silent prayer, I resolved to conceal nothing. They receive me kindly, said I, as they now do everywhere in Nova Scotia—they listen attentively and invite me to repeat my visits. “Well,” he answered, “that is just what I was going to say to you. But you don’t come often enough, nor early enough in the day. We have been looking for you ever since your last visit, when you promised to come again, and now it is so near night and you are in such a hurry that we have not time to ask you half the questions we wish to ask, nor to learn half the things we wish to learn. We want you to come in the morning and stay with us all day.” Such in substance was the statement of this worthy chief. Surely no one can reasonably blame me for wishing to continue steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, while even such evidence is afforded that our labors are not in vain in the Lord.
The second incident has reference to the Maliseets, near St. John. They speak a dialect differing materially from Micmac—and usually live in houses or small huts. I can speak but a few words or sentences in their tongue—but we have published a tract in it which I can read, as can also many of themselves—I can also sing Psalms and Hymns in Maliseet, and as most of them speak Micmac and English tolerably well, we get on sometimes very bravely together. One evening I had entered a hut, as the sun was setting, had received a cordial welcome, had sung in Maliseet,
“Abide with me, fast falls the eventide;”
had spoken of Christ and his readiness to save, and now, said I, if you have no objections, I wish to kneel down in your hut and pray. “Certainly,” replied the man, “certainly,” and he and I bowed down together, though his wife, the only other person present, did not kneel, and I prayed. “Thank you, thank you,” said he as we arose—“that’s good, that’s very nice. It isn’t often we gets the likes o’ that here. It’s cus and swear and get drunk—that’s what we usually gets.” The words of the poor fellow and his earnest manner touched my heart. I could not but bless God that I am permitted by his grace—to visit the Indian’s lowly dwelling, to talk and sing and read of a Saviour’s love, and pray, where so many go merely for pastime—to curse and swear, and drink; but where few, alas, go to pray. People sometimes express astonishment that I can persevere and not get discouraged in the cultivation of so stubborn a soil, where so much labor and toil require to be expended, and so little fruit is seen. And I am sometimes amazed at it myself. But there is in my soul a deep-seated feeling that I am called to the work in which I am engaged, and incidents like the above wring tears from my eyes, bring me to my knees, and send me on in my work refreshed, and strengthened, with loins fresh-girded to the conflict, and full of joy and hope.
2. PECUNIARY SUPPORT.
Since Jan. 1st, 1865, up to the present time, Jan. 5th, 1866, I have received in aid no less than one thousand and sixty-five dollars and eighty-one cents. Thirty-seven dollars, twenty-one and a half cents have reached me since the present year commenced, though most of it was mailed sometime before. During the year my former allowance of two hundred pounds, with forty pounds for travelling expenses, has been received, and seventy-five dollars, nine cents and a half, over and above. Last spring, after listening to a charity sermon by Rev. D. Freeman of Canning, Cornwallis, I determined to lay by in store every Lord’s day, one tenth of all receipts during the previous week, to be expended in charity; to be laid up in heaven at a hundred fold interest against the time to come, and having followed up this plan, I have been enabled to devote not only the former allowance of forty dollars to charity; but more than double that sum, and have been prospered in proportion. By far the largest amount received during any period of three months, was received during the quarter just closed, the amount for the quarter being three hundred and eighty-six dollars, thirty-three and a half cents. And the most of it came in since the 26th day of October. That day must ever be a memorable one to me. In order to encourage my Christian brethren in the ministry and out of it, to pray more, and to believe more firmly, and to wait on the Lord for temporal blessings as well as spiritual, always remembering to put the spiritual far in advance of the temporal,—I will relate the events of that day.
Under ordinary circumstances, I must have been anxious and troubled. I had no money, no salary, almost no food for a large family, and winter with all its peculiar wants was at hand. Besides all this I was in debt. When I struck a balance with the society on the old plan last year, my salary was three hundred dollars in arrears, and I needed all that money to meet demands against me. It seemed a strange way to get out of debt, to forgive all one’s debtors. But so I read, as applicable to myself under the circumstances, the sweet petition taught me in my infancy, and repeated ever since; but never half believed or understood. I had determined to look to my Father in Heaven for the means of paying my honest debts, as well as for the support of my family, and to ensure his blessing I meant to do everything he required of me, to please Him in all things. By His grace I determined that no bills for 1865 should be sent in at the year’s end, and that as many as possible of the former ones should be paid. But on the day mentioned, Oct. 26th, with all our other wants, there were debts to be paid. No one was pushing us, but the honor of God was concerned and our own credit, and the people we owed ought to have their money. So I entered into my closet, and shut the door, and prayed to my Father who is in secret, and my Father who seeth in secret has according to His promise rewarded me openly. For several hours He seemed to hold me at a distance, but, as in the beautiful example held up for imitation of the Syro-Phœnician woman, I was enabled to struggle on and get nearer and nearer to His blessed feet. Then came triumph, peace, thanksgiving and joy. All the evening the language of my heart could be best expressed in Psalm 103. “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy name!” I awoke the next morning in the same tranquil thankful frame of mind. My plans for the future all opened out distinctly before me while on my knees. Then came deliverance. The mail that day brought me a letter containing twelve dollars, greatly needed that very day, and mailed to me the day before, while I was fasting and praying. In three days after that I had received money enough to meet all the pressing necessities of the family, and since that memorable day, without the slightest trouble or anxiety on my part, without having given even a hint of my necessities to any mortal, and without having asked even for a public collection, I have received—nearly all in money—no less than four hundred and three dollars and eighty-seven cents. I have not been able to pay all old bills, and meet daily wants. But the amount of debt has been greatly reduced, and all fear for the future has been removed. Thanks be to God who heareth prayer, and thanks to the friends who have been prompted to aid us.