« PreviousContinue »
LETTER FROM THE SANDWICH ISLANDS.
perhaps I could not bear it; but I do hope to be the instrument of much good to many; I hope that in eternity I shall stand before the throne with a great company of Sandwich Island mothers and children, who have attained that blessedness through my instrumentality. This object I would hold up before me, and aim at its accomplishment in the discharge of all my duties, day by day, even indirect ones, such as attention to my domestic affairs, instructing the natives who assist me in my labors, and in training up my little ones in the way they should go.
Nov. 10.—I have just read your interesting letter of Oct. last, and there are so many points upon which I desire to touch, each of which would require a sheet, that I know not where to begin. There is one however that is nearer my heart than
any other, I mean our maternal associations. There are now in the mission, twenty mothers, and forty-four children; the eldest is about eight. Our children are generally healthy; for this we would lift up our hearts in devout thankfulness, that we have been spared the bitter pangs that have wrung the bosoms of our eastern brethren, as they weep over the graves of so many of their little ones. The care of our chil. dren, both of bodies and minds, while they remain at the Islands, necessarily devolves wirely on the mother, without the aid of day schools, and still more precious Sunday schools, or even the services of God's house in a language they can understand, except occasionally. They are hourly exposed to the corruptions of heathenism. The claims of native mothers and native children draw heavily upon our time, and among the numerous miscellaneous duties the path of duty is often obscure. Our
poor hearts are sometimes sad, and our pillows and the cheeks of our little ones are often witnesses to the tears we shed over the neglects of the past day, and the resolution, that with the light of another sun, we will be more faithful in the discharge of our maternal duty.
Thus, for the present, we push away the intruding thought that soon they may be banished our sight forever, brave the dangers of a restless ocean, under no one knows whose influence. We dare not, we would not look into the future, and ask who will be raised up in this land of strangers, in case of our decease, to shelter and cherish them, to watch their wayward steps, to reform their faults, forgive their childish follies, and train them up for usefulness here, and glory hereafter? No; our one prayer is, “when their father and mother forsake them, then will the Lord take them up.” “My heart is too full to say much upon this subject, and Christian mothers in favored America will pray that our faith may be increased, that we may not be left in darkness as to duty, and may be enabled to cast all our burdens on the Lord; he will sustain us.
It is but natural that a subject lying so near our hearts, should create desires to carry out something into action for the benefit of others. In of 1831, as the ladies of the station were visiting the members of the be at their own houses, we took along our pencils and noted those wb charge of children, either their own or adopted ones. The first day of the year 1832, they were invited together at
LETTER FROM THE SANDWICH ISLANDS.
house and requested to bring their baptized children. The room was more than filled, and it was to me the most interesting scene I have witnessed at the Islands. Mothers were present to inquire how to train up their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, whose hands were stained with the blood of their own offspring. We tried to lay before them the object of the convocation, and press home to each heart its solemn responsibilities. At the close of the meeting we distributed among the children who could read a "new year's present,” a small volume of hymns from the Hawaiian press. Our beloved Kuahumanu, though not a mother, was present, and deeply interested, and many expressed their gratification, and the good they hoped to receive from such an association.
For some succeeding meetings I was absent at Hawaii. At the first meeting after our return a constitution was adopted, a translation of the copy you sent us, with such alterations as were thought necessary to meet the exigency of mothers in this community. - . The field before us is so extensive, and there is such a variety of objects inviting us to effort, that you will not think it strange that we have not as yet been able to get the thing moving in all its points, with the energy and regularity we could desire. I am happy to say, however, that we are daily witnesses of the increasing interest native mothers feel in their children. They no longer thrust the little helpless beings from their bosoms, and bury them in the earth as they used to do, but begin to look upon them in some degree as they really are, a "rich heritage," and treat them with something like maternal tenderness. But much remains to be accomplished both by example and precept, before parents will comprehend the length and breadth of their duty, and before their children are brought under proper restraints. It is true of the heathen that they are “ without natural affection.”
I am at the bottom of my last page, without doing any thing like justice to my own feelings upon this important subject. I think if I could step into the midst of your interesting circle myself, instead of sending this, I could tell a story that would go home to every mother's heart, and so arouse their sympathies, that they would“ pray without ceasing,” for Sandwich Island mothers and children, and the little band of wanderers, with their helpless ones clustering about them, would not be forgotten, and your prayers would go up as incense before the throne, and prevail with God. Such I trust is now the case, in some good measure. A letter from your association would greatly encourage us, and any hints or advice will be cordially received. Do remember us, young and inexperienced mothers, in this strange land, without the helps, and shut out from the privileges so richly enjoyed in our native land, We do feel that we came here in obedience to the divine command, and we do trust in God that his promises to us and to our children will not fail us. O for more constant, abiding faith.
Please present my most affectionate salutations to all the members of your aternal association. The kindness of your hearts may lead you to inquire zou can assist us; if so, I would say, send us school books adapted to
of our children ; the best books for them are best for translating for
native children. We have a fine little library of reading books, but there is a great dearth of school books, such as Geography, History, Botany, Astrono
A yearly box of plain, strong, well-made garments for children, including shoes, would be very acceptable. Any thing of the kind directed to me would be distributed with sincerest pleasure. Dr. Judd joins me in kind regards to yourself, husband and children. Yours, with much affection,
J. F. Judd.
ALTERED FOR THE MOTHER'S MAGAZINE.
Oh! may I like a polar star,
Held in my Savior's hand,
Conduct my children, now afar,
Safe to Immanuel's land.
Each star apart gives feeble light,
But when they all combine,
The constellations shine.
Thus would we join our several rays,
In one united Aame,
And glorify his name.
FOR YOUNG MOTHERS.
Mrs. W.-Being a domestic woman, of but little influence, and not very well read, I have never before offered a line of my own composition for publication. Having recently become a member of a maternal association, and acquainted with your Magazine, with which I am well pleased, I desire to contribute my mite to its pages. I send you the following lines, which, if you consider worthy of a place in your Magazine, you are at liberty to insert.
May 12, 1833.
To smiling infants, what was love;
Maternal Associations, too,
Give in your names, we'll meet you ther To what your mothers can relate: In yonder house, the house of prayer; We had to study as we could,
There our experience qualified, Without a Magazine so good :
May make a sample for your guid I hazard nothing when I say
And thus our children's children If by gone years, now rolled away, Be train'd to walk in Wisdom"
Τ' Η Ε
MOT HER’S MAGAZINE
FOR AUGUST, MDCCCXXXIII.
For the Mother's Magazine.
I had the pleasure, a short time since, of passing a few days with a friend of my earlier years, whom, for a long time, I had not seen. In the interval, he had become settled, and had now a family of six fine children growing up around him. The eldest was a daughter, who might be fourteen or fifteen years of age; the youngest a son about four.
My friend and his wife were both professors of religion, and appeared desirous, so far as I could judge, of exemplifying in their lives the spirit of the gospel, and especially of bringing up their children “in the fear, nurture, and admonition of the Lord.”
The day following my arrival was the Sabbath. Its morning was appropriately spent in reading the scriptures, in family prayer, and religious conversation. Not long after breakfast, the youngest child, the little boy above mentioned, was suddenly found to be missing. Inquiry was made for him, but as it proved unsuccessful, a degree of solicitude at length began to be felt, and the search became more vigorous. He had on several occasions strolled away to a neighbor's, where a child of his own age lived, and more frequently had gone unattended, to pay his aged grandmother a visit, who lived at no great distance down the hill. To one of these places, it soon occurred that he might have wandered, though it was unusual for him thus to play truant on the Sabbath. The father, taking his hat, said he would step abroad and fetch him home.
Before the father's return, however, the little absentee was found. He had purloined an orange belonging to his eldest sister, and, conscious of the trespass he was committing, had secreted himself quite securely in an adjoining room behind a bed. He had heard the call of his mother, and the inquiries of the other members of the family; but, either from a sense of guilt, or too much engrossed with the plessure of his luscious feast, he had paid no attention to the oft repeated summons. At length, a little sister, a couple of years older than himself, raising the vase, made the important discovery. It was
immediately announced by her shrill tones, and delighted exclamation; and almost in the next moment the whole group of children were peeping under the vase, which the discoverer still beld raised. There, cross-legged, sat the thief at his meal. For a moment he paused, as was natural, and joined in the good natured titter of the well pleased throng. But it was only for a moment that he consented to any interruption; but now ate the faster, evidently wishing to prolong the pleasurable feast he was enjoying, and yet conscious that its approaching termination was at hand.
“Ah! you rogue, you rogue,” exclaimed one of the sisters. “ Whose orange have you got?” inquired a second.
“ He looks cunning enough," said the little sister, who had discovered him, “why, John!"
At this moment, the mother, who had been in search of her boy in a different direction, entered the room. Being myself quite at home in my friend's house, and attracted by the interesting scene going on, I ventured to look in upon the actors myself.
“See here, mother, see here !” exclaimed the above little girl, “ we've found him; here he is, under the bed," again drawing aside the vase.
The mother stooped, as was necessary, to see him ; and, hastily stepping forward, I imitated her example. I shall not soon forget the sight. He was a fat little figure, with a fine plump face, and had quirled himself up in the corner, and with his orange in his grasp, looked much, I could fancy, like a young squirrel in the woods. He had nearly eaten up the “ golden apple;" but the liquid juice of the remnant, under the pressure of his hands and his lips, was running in currents on each side of his mouth.
“ Don't he look cunning, mother?” said the delighted little sister, “I'm sure he does."
It was impossible to repress a smile, as he crept forth from his hiding place, at the bidding of his mother; who now taking his hand led him into the sitting
Thinks I to myself, here is a difficult case to manage. Some of " sterner stuff”
may think otherwise; but in my own mind it required no little decision and parental faithfulness to treat it as it deserved.
There was a cunning about the whole transaction, especially in his looks and actions when discovered, which was calculated to disarm a fond parent. Many a parent, I doubt not would have accorded with the expression of John's little sister, and felt that it was "too cunning a trick” to admit of being censured. A gentle reproof: “You are a naughty child,” or “You must not do so again,” would perhaps by most parents have been deemed sufficient. And this reproof would have been accompanied by a half suppressed smile-a kind of mingled expression of admiration and reproach ; but the admiration so predominating as to have entirely neutralized the censure, and virtually to have operated as a stimulus to future transgression.
But it was not so managed in the present instance. On reaching the sittingroom, she bid the children be seated, and began to inquire:
“John, my son, was that your orange, which you was eating ?”