Through Perils by Night by W. A. S.

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jul 3, 1913

Through Perils by Night

By W. A. S.

THAT is a blessed promise which the evil one perverted in the temptation in the wilderness: “For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.” Ps. 91:11, 12. Christ refused to tempt God by rashly putting himself in jeopardy; but many a time, we know, servants of God in peril have gone forward over unknown ways depending on the promise of angel guardianship.

When, in his old age, John G. Paton, the missionary, was visiting his home land, one little girl, in whose home he was to be a guest, asked her father,—

“Is it the real Dr. Paton who slid down the rock, that is coming to see us?”

“Yes, dear,” said her father; “the very same.”

“And, papa,” she asked with glowing eyes, “will his coat be dirty where he slid down the rock?”

She had heard the story of Paton’s deliverance from savages that dark night on Tanna, in the New Hebrides Islands, when he slid down a precipice, asking God to bear him up from destruction. In his story of early days on Tanna, he gives the incident as follows:—

Having made half the journey, I came to a dangerous path, almost perpendicular, up a great rock round the base of which the sea roared deep. With my heart lifted up to Jesus, I succeeded in climbing it, cautiously grasping roots, and resting by bushes, till I safely reached the top. There, to avoid a village, I had to keep crawling slowly along the bush near the sea, on the top of that great ledge of rock,—a feat I could never have accomplished even in daylight without the excitement; but I felt that I was supported and guided in all that life or death journey by my dear Lord Jesus. I had to leave the shore and follow up the bank of a very deep ravine to a place shallow enough for one to cross, and then through the bush away for the shore again. By holding too much to the right, I missed the point where I had intended to reach it. Small fires were now visible through the bush; I heard the voices of the people talking in one of our most heathen villages.

Quietly drawing back, I now knew where I was, and easily found my way toward the shore; but on reaching the great rock, I could not in the darkness find the path down again. I groped about till I was tired. I feared that I might stumble over and be killed; or, if I delayed till daylight, that the savages would kill me. I knew that one part of the rock was steep-sloping, with little growth or none thereon, and I searched about to find it, resolved to commend myself to Jesus and slide down thereby, that I might again reach the shore and escape for my life. Thinking I had found this spot, I hurled down several stones and listened for their splash that I might judge whether it would be safe. But the distance was too far for me to hear or judge. At high tide the sea there was deep; but at low tide I could wade out of it and be safe. The darkness made it impossible for me to see anything. I let go my umbrella, shoving it down with considerable force, but neither did it send me back any news.

Feeling safe, however, that this was the place I sought, and knowing that to await the daylight would be certain death, I prayed to my Lord Jesus for help and protection, and resolved to let myself go. First, I fastened all my clothes as tightly as I could, so as not to catch on anything; then I lay down at the top on my back, feet foremost, holding my head downward on my breast to keep it from striking on the rock; then, after one cry to my Saviour, having let myself down as far as possible by a branch, I at last let go, throwing my arms forward and trying to keep my feet well up. A giddy swirl, as if flying through the air, took possession of me; a few moments seemed an age; I rushed quickly down, and felt no obstruction till my feet struck into the sea below. Adoring and praising my dear Lord Jesus, who had ordered it so, I regained my feet; it was low tide, I had received no injury, I recovered my umbrella, and, wading through, I found the shore path easier and lighter than the bush had been. The very darkness was my safety, preventing the natives from rambling about. I saw no person to speak to till I reached a village quite near to my own house, fifteen or twenty miles from where I had started. I here left the sea path and promised some young men a gift of fish-hooks to guide me the

nearest way through the bush to my mission station, which they gladly and heartily did. I ran a narrow risk in approaching them; they thought me an enemy, and I arrested their muskets only by a loud cry: “I am Missi! Don’t shoot; my love to you, my friends!”

Praising God for his preserving care, I reached home, and had a long, refreshing sleep. The natives, on hearing next day how I had come all the way in the dark, exclaimed,—

“Surely any of us would have been killed. Your Jehovah God alone thus protects you and brings you safely home.”

With all my heart, I said, “Yes! and he will be your protector and helper too, if only you will obey and trust in him.”

Certainly that night put my faith to the test. Had it not been the assurance that I was engaged in his service, and that in every path of duty he would carry me through or dispose of me therein for his glory, I could never have undertaken either journey. St. Paul’s words are true today and forever: “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.”

W. A. S.