Hope for "the Uttermost Parts of the Earth": Daniel Poor
My native place was at Stonington, Connecticut. The village is situated on a rocky point at the eastern end of Long Island Sound, across the bay from Watch Hill, a popular place of summer resort. Although a small place, it was in my boyhood days, and for years had been, one of the principal ports for whaling and sailing vessels in the United States, and its harbor was sought by vessels bound East and South. It was, moreover, the place where New York steamboats connected with the railroad line to Providence and Boston. In consequence it was a centre of interest for a wide and important field and sphere; and it was a frequent place of gathering for those who would influence the New England community.
On one occasion there was a meeting, in the church which I attended, of the New London County Foreign Missionary Society, the exercises of which were of special interest. It was announced that at the evening session there would be present to address the meeting the Rev. Dr. Daniel Poor, a missionary in Ceylon; and there was a great desire to see and hear him. At the appointed hour the Congregational Church of the village was crowded. The officers of the Missionary Society were present; but Dr. Poor was not there, and the expectant audience waited. An extra hymn was given out to occupy the expectant congregation, and during the singing of that hymn Dr. Poor made his appearance. He realized that he was a little late, but he quickly caught up. Being introduced by the moderator, he began pleasantly:
“I am sorry to be late, my friends, but, having started out for a little walk, I got absorbed with thought in view of the peculiarities of this place, as I found my way along the rocky shores down to the lighthouse at its extreme rocky point. It seemed to me — and that’s what I was thinking of — that the people of this village ought to have peculiar comfort in claiming for themselves one of the sweetest and richest promises of God. God says to his people, as representing his Son, ‘Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession.’ Now, if this place isn’t ‘the uttermost part of the earth,^ I don’t know where that is, and I have travelled over a pretty large share of the globe.”
Having in this way put his waiting congregation in good-humor, and thus got in fresh touch with them. Dr. Poor proceeded to show, in a manner that was persuasive and convincing, what the people of our village had to do in securing for Christ the heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession. It was a most impressive and irresistible plea for missions. One of his young hearers, at least, could never forget that appeal.
At that time, during his visit to this country, Dr. Poor had his temporary home with his former classmate in Andover, the Rev. Dr. Thomas H. Gallaudet of Hartford, whose youngest daughter I subsequently married. As showing his ever loving spirit, and his uniform hearty trust, as a disciple and missionary of Christ, I was told that when a visitor at Dr. Gallaudet’s spoke to Dr. Poor of his privations and trials in his missionary life, he responded cheerily:
“Oh! you remember Christ’s promise about that, ‘Every one that hath forsaken homes, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name’s sake, shall receive a hundred fold.’ That promise has been more than made good to me. I left one home and family when I went to the mission field; and now when I come back I find a home and good friends in every place I go to, and I am made welcome to all. There’s no privation in that.”
This cheeriness in way and word was a prominent element of Dr. Poor’s power. His familiarity with the colloquial Tamil, his knowledge of Hindoo writings, his self-command and quickness of repartee, enabled him to meet the arguments and sophistries of learned disputants with uniform effect. He was a clear thinker, and a dignified and courteous debater. After about forty years of faithful missionary service he yielded up his life in an attack of cholera, in 1855. But death had no terrors for him. His last words, spoken in a whisper, were in Tamil, “Joy! Joy 1 Hallelujah!” He had joy in life, joy in service, and joy in death.
Among the family treasures of my children are albums of attractive water-color sketches of various classes of natives and residents of Ceylon and India. These include those of different castes and classes and trades and occupations. The presentation inscription, from Rev. Daniel Poor to Rev. Thomas H. Gallaudet, is dated November 29, 1843. This is a reminder of the time of Dr. Poor’s visit to this country, when I had the privilege of hearing him in the Stonington “uttermost parts of the earth.”
In later years, I met a son of the missionary hero, the Rev. Dr. D. W. Poor, in Oakland, California, at that time a professor in the Presbyterian Theological Seminary of the Pacific Coast. More recently I have been connected in a church in West Philadelphia, with that good man and all of his family; and I have found them doing honor to the name and the service of the faithful missionary. And in all the years meantime I have been cheered and comforted by that thought and assurance of the Ceylon missionary in the Stonington village church that even though I am in the uttermost parts of the earth in God’s service there is a special and sufficient promise to me just there; and for that I am grateful.