ALEXANDER MACKAY was a merry-hearted, fun-loving boy. Few things gave him greater pleasure than a long ramble across the moorlands, sometimes stopping to watch the flight of a flock of grouse or wild ducks the noise of his approach had startled from their hiding-place among the heather; at others he would stop to gather some rare fern, to be carefully dried and pressed on his return home. From his father he had learned to observe, so found never-failing interest in studying the ways of birds and insects. Being a good walker, he was often his chosen companion in the visits that from time to time he paid to people who attended his preaching, but who lived in outlying, often faraway places.
During those walks many a never-to-be-forgotten lesson on natural history or botany was given and received, for Mr. Mackay had read and studied much, and his son was early taught to trace the goodness and wisdom of God told out in His care even for the smallest and weakest things He has created. Often father and son would repeat together, "Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created." (Rev. 4:1111Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created. (Revelation 4:11).) Or, after an interval of silence, they would sing such words as
"The Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a Shepherd's care;
My noonday walks He shall attend,
And all my midnight hours defend.”
And their voices would awaken many an answering echo in the surrounding hills-hills the boy dearly loved to climb.
We almost wonder if, as he scaled their rugged heights, he ever thought of himself as one day to cross African swamps, or as climbing mountains to which the heights on which he then stood were mere molehills in comparison.
We do not know, so we will not venture to guess, what his day-dreams were; but we are sure of one thing, that Alexander Mackay was being even then shaped and molded by God to fit the niche he was one day to occupy. His early training was just what he needed to fit him for his lifework as a pioneer missionary in Uganda.
But you must not think that he was allowed to run wild, or that he was an idle, careless boy. Naturally thoughtful and fond of study, his lessons were almost without exception well and thoroughly learned. Several hours each day were spent in his father's study, where sometimes he read aloud, at others committed to memory large portions from books selected by his father. As he grew older he sometimes helped by copying MS., answering letters, and other things. In all such work great neatness and accuracy was required of him.
To his mother, whom he loved with all the devotion of which a deep, strong nature is capable, he doubtless owed much of the missionary spirit that in after years led him to leave his loved home circle and his native land, to help carry the gospel to one of the darkest of the dark places of the earth, Uganda, which at that time was wholly heathen.
Mrs. Mackay was descended from an old Huguenot family, and would often tell her children how, after the "Revocation of the Edict of Nantes," they were obliged either to escape from France, or attend the mass. They chose the former and after many hardships and dangers reached the coast, and finally settled in Scotland. Their property, and much of their worldly goods, had been left in France, but like the Hebrew believers to whom Paul wrote, they were enabled to "take joyfully the spoiling of their goods," for in Scotland they were free to read their Bibles in broad daylight, and worship God according to the teachings of that blessed book.
These stories made a life-long impression upon the boy, but Sunday evenings in the old manse were rich in holy, happy memories to all the younger members of the Mackay household, for when the verses of scripture learned during the week had been correctly repeated, mother was always ready either to read aloud from some interesting book, or to have what her children loved to call "a missionary talk.”
Let us take a peep at the little group one Lord's-day evening. It is a winter's night, rain and sleet beat against the closed window-shutters, and the wind moans and howls outside. Inside all is warmth and brightness. The mother and children are seated round a cheerful fire; lessons are over, and Alexander claps his hands and cries joyfully, "Now, mother, we are all ready for a story, please!”
“Do you remember the one I told you last week?”
“Oh yes, mother, it was about Henry Martyr, and his work in India, and I can say the verse of the missionary poem you taught us.”
“Light on the Hindoo shed!
For the maddening idol-train;
The flame of the suttee is dire and red,
And the fakir moans with pain;
And the dying faint on their cheerless bed,
By the Ganges laved in vain.”
“And what Indian custom is referred to by the word 'suttee'?”
“That of burning a widow alive with the dead body of her husband. You told us, too, that when more than seventy years ago a great part of India came under British rule, laws were made to punish those who attempted it. There was only too good reason to fear that in out-of-the-way places, or where there were few if any British officers, it was still, carried on, though not so openly as before. But, mother, will you tell us to-night a story from the very beginning; when did you first begin to think about missions?”
“I was quite a little girl, not more than eleven or twelve years old, when I heard there was to be a missionary address in the church I attended with my parents. I did not expect there would be anything said that I should find very interesting, but I knew the gentleman who was going to speak. He was a friend of my father's and often came to our house; he loved children, so I felt I must listen to every word he said. I had even heard that he had a great wish to go to the heathen, but had been prevented.
“I shall never forget that night. The church was very full; we went early to get a front seat, as my father's hearing was not good. Two short verses of scripture were read, 'Jesus said, If ye love me, keep my commandments,' and 'Go ye therefore, and teach all nations,' and as the address went on, I felt as I had never felt before. Child though I was, I felt sure that I loved my Savior, and so much was said about the honor and happiness of being a missionary, and seeking to bring souls to Christ, that I longed to be old enough to go and teach little black children about Jesus. At the close, prayer was offered that some among his hearers might be constrained by the love of Christ to go; and that others, who perhaps could not go, might by prayer and gifts help to send others.
“That night I could not sleep. I got up very early, dressed, put on my sunbonnet, and went out into the garden. It was a lovely June morning, roses were everywhere. I went into a quiet spot, and kneeling down, asked God to let me help the missionaries. If I could not go, even a little girl could, I knew, pray; and perhaps when I was older He would shew me some other way in which I could help.
“From that day to this my love for, and interest in, missions has never died down.”