suffered indescribable misery.
Bound with chains, crowded in with scores of natives, famishing from
lack of suitable food, the whole place reeking in filth. Mental
distress was almost equal to the physical, for Judson's beloved
wife and child, whom he longed to see, were also suffering. In the
providence of God their lives were spared, but they would feel the
effects of such sufferings to the end of their days.
A school history of Burma contains this touching reference to the
released missionaries and Europeans: "A sadder spectacle has seldom
been presented to living human beings than that which was offered
to the English camp by those liberated captives. They were covered
with filthy rags, they were worn to skin and bones, and their haggard
countenances, sunken, wandering eyes, told but too plainly the
frightful story of their long suffering, their incessant alarms,
and their apprehension of a doom worse than death." Such was the
experience of the first missionary to Burma. The oft-repeated remark,
"The days of missionary heroism are past," has done much to deaden
interest in foreign missions. It is not my purpose to give a prominent
place to the subject of missionary sacrifices.
A few illustrations, which might be multiplied, will serve to show to
what extent the spirit of Burman Buddhists has changed since the time
when they inflicted upon Judson such terrible tortures.
In 1842, a few years after Judson triumphantly held aloft the last
leaf of the Bible translated into the Burman language, the first
martyr laid down his life "for Christ's sake and the gospel's." His
name was Klo Mai,--a converted Karen. A company of Burmans broke into
his house, abused him cruelly, threatening his life if he would not
recant.
His son Shwe Nyo, also a Christian, leaped to the ground and hid
himself in the jungle, but not until he had been severely stabbed.
Klo Mai was dragged from his house and crucified by his heartless
tormentors. Bound to a hastily constructed bamboo cross, in the form
of a letter X, he was left to die, and did die, rather than deny his
Master.
His son Shwe Nyo, became an effective preacher of the gospel,
stimulated to the greater earnestness by his father's faithful example.
Surely he "bore in his body the brand-marks of the Lord Jesus," for
he carried with him until his death in 1892, the scar of that stab
received in his youth.
Buddhism has been said to be the most tolerant of all non-Christian
religions; and the Burmese the most tolerant of all Buddhist peoples.
This may be true, up to a certain point. Judson gave as the reason why
Portuguese Roman Catholics were left unmolested in Burma, that "very
few Burmans entered that church, proselytism being the only thing in
foreign religions to which Buddhists object." But to gain a convert
from Buddhism he declared to be "like pulling the tooth of a tiger."
With the establishing of an elaborate police-system, by the British
government, and the certainty that crime would be punished,
missionaries and native converts no longer had reason to fear the
more violent forms of persecution. But the Burman still found ways to
persecute, without laying himself liable to the law of the land, when
one of his people had the temerity to forsake the ancestral religion.
A case of this kind was very soon brought to our notice. Our personal
teacher was a young convert. In his native village he had heard the
gospel from a travelling evangelist; learned more from tracts that
were given him; believed what he heard and read, and openly declared
his belief to his people. This excited such anger and opposition
that he was obliged to run away from home. His people followed
him to the mission, threatening to kill him if he did not renounce
Christianity, and return to his village. The young man again escaped
from his persecutors, and remained in hiding until they returned to
their homes. The missionary gave him the training he so earnestly
desired, and he became an effective preacher. A few years later, in
company with the missionary and others, he returned to his village and
openly proclaimed Christ before them all. At our mission station a
middle-aged man was led to Christ by this young man. The new convert's
wife and others bitterly opposed his companying with the Christians,
and attending their worship. When it became known that he was to be
baptized, his mother followed him to the river and earnestly besought
him to give up his crazy purpose. Failing in this she returned home
and told his wife that her husband had actually _been baptized before
her eyes_. This so enraged her that she snatched his clothing from
its place, and would have cut it to bits had not the mother prevented
her. For several days and nights the husband and father had to remain
away from his family, waiting for the atmosphere to clear. At last the
wife consented to live with him, but her continued opposition was a
source of great unhappiness until, a few years later, he was called
to "come up higher." At another mission station an old man became a
convert, and felt it his duty to be baptized. At first he shrank from
it, knowing what the consequences would be, but he felt that he should
"obey God rather than man." His decision raised a terrible storm of
opposition. His own grown-up children joined with the rest in calling
him crazy. They tore around like fiends, slapped and pushed the poor
old man, and twice knocked him to the ground, before the missionary
could rescue him. It was a terrible test, but God was with him.
Encouraged by the missionary, he walked out of the village to the
waterside, and without one of his relations to witness his "obedience
of faith" he followed his Lord in baptism. Radiant with joy he
returned to the village, though he knew that henceforth his foes would
be "they of his own household."
Another missionary has given the following account of the conversion
and baptism of a pupil in one of the mission schools.
"It gives me great joy to record the baptism of another of
our pupils, the first Burman to be converted in our school,
or in this town, so far as I know. He has come out amidst
bitter opposition and persecution from all his friends.
"More than a year ago he asked his parents' consent to his
baptism, but received nothing but curses from his mother,
and tearful entreaties to postpone his baptism, from his
father. After waiting a year he told them firmly that he
had decided to obey God rather than man, and that if they
still withheld their consent he must be baptized without
it. So during a visit from Mr. ---- last month he presented
himself as a candidate for baptism. His sister came to the
preliminary meeting, and attempted to prevent his being
received. Failing in this she left in anger, threatening
him with a beating when he returned home. He had scarcely
left the riverside, when his mother appeared, and after
much loud and abusive language ordered him home, renewing
the sister's threat of a beating. He went obediently,
saying as he left, 'This is a very hard day for me, but I
can bear it with joy for Jesus' sake.'
"They did not use personal violence, but employed every
other means to hurt and humiliate him. When he remained
steadfast they called in all their relations and friends,
a large and respectable company, for they are a family in
good standing, and spent the evening in trying, some by
gentle persuasion, some by threats and ridicule to make him
renounce his Christian faith. But he only answered that he
knew he had found the right way, and should never forsake
it. He even dared to preach to them of the true God, until
his father commanded him to stop.
"The following Sunday they took away his jacket, and
threatened to come and curse us if he came to worship.
Since they have given up the hope of winning him back to
Buddhism, they simply ignore his presence in the house,
and have informed him that he is at liberty to eat at home
but will never receive another _pice_ from them while he
remains a Christian. His former friends have forsaken him,
some even refuse to speak to him. Yet he has not wavered
for a moment, and often says with a radiant face, 'This
religion is a very happy religion.'"
In a distant village lived a young Christian Burman, with his heathen
wife. He was the only Christian in the place, and for miles around.
Unflinchingly he confessed Christ as his Saviour, in the face of much
prejudice and opposition. One night men burst into his house and
demanded his money and other valuables. Not securing so much as they
expected, they began beating him with their clubs. He shouted with all
his might, but not a soul stirred in the surrounding houses. With each
blow they reviled him saying, "Can Jesus save you? Can Jesus Christ
save you?" Having satisfied their brutal instincts, and being unable
to secure more plunder they descended to the ground, dragging the
young man with them. As they passed through the village they shouted
threateningly, "Let no one follow us." There was little danger that
any one would follow. There was not a light in the village, and not
a head showed itself. Doubtless some of the villagers were in league
with these villains, others were intimidated, supposing they were
dacoits.
The young man, bruised and suffering, was forced to accompany his
persecutors about a mile, where they released him. He worked his way
back to the village, and on the following day persuaded two men to
take him to the nearest railway station, six miles away.
Jungle roads were impassable, but he made the journey astride a
buffalo. Reaching the mission station he was examined by the medical
missionary, who found that he had sustained a green fracture of
two ribs, besides a serious scalp wound and many bruises. Acting
on information furnished by the missionary, the police traced
and captured the whole band. They were sentenced to terms in the
penitentiary, ranging from four to seven years.
Here is an extract from a missionary's account of a tour made in 1883
to a town in Upper Burma where now is a Christian church and school:
"Before going north Maung ---- was warned not to use the
same boldness of speech that he was accustomed to use in
British Burma, lest they should kill him. But as far as I
observed he was bolder than ever, denouncing idolatry in
every form, and pleading the merits of Jesus Christ.
"A German who had declared that there was not a true
conversion among the Burmans, was compelled to acknowledge
that he had been mistaken, for no man (said he) could face
what this one did who was not a Christian."
As has been said, there is little reason, at the present time, to fear
for one's life. But such instances of persecution as here given are
being repeated at every station where mission work among Buddhists
is being carried on. Here we have enacted before our eyes a living
commentary on these words of Christ: "Think not that I came to send
peace on the earth. I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I came
to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against
her mother, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and a
man's foes shall be they of his own household. He that loveth father
or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he that loveth son or
daughter more than me is not worthy of me." The doctrine that "There
is no other name whereby we must be saved" inevitably would produce
this very result, as every missionary witnesses.
It is my profound conviction that missionaries and native converts owe
the safety of their lives, under God, to the strong arm of the British
Indian government. Doubtless the majority of Burman Buddhists, if left
to themselves, would tolerate any foreign religion in their midst.
But they are not left to themselves. The priest is the Pharisee of
Buddhism; each idol-maker a modern Demetrius. The one says: "Only
by our hold upon the superstitious reverence of the people we have
sustenance." The other says: "Only by this business have we our
wealth."
Both hate the Christian evangelist with a bitter hatred. Take away the
strong arm of the law which, by many severe lessons, they have learned
to respect, these emissaries of Satan would make the advent of a
Christian evangelist an occasion of rioting rivalling that of Ephesus.
Judson's experiences would be repeated in the experience of many a
missionary. As it is there are scores of Buddhists who secretly admit
that Christianity is right, but dare not openly break away from the
toils of this Buddhist hierarchy.
The reign of Badawgyi, the king that imprisoned Dr. Judson, extended
to 1857. During the last years his authority was but nominal.
The humiliation of his defeat by the English; loss of territory;
and from 1830, the degradation of being compelled to have a British
resident in the royal city finally drove him insane. In that condition
he remained until his death, in 1845. So ended the career of this
cruel king under whom Dr. Judson suffered. At about this time the
capital was again transferred to Amarapura, which remained the capital
until the founding of Mandalay, in 1860.
Ava was left to fall to ruin. From the founding of Ava until it was
finally abandoned, thirty kings had reigned there, for periods from a
few months up to thirty-eight years, including temporary changes of
the capital.
I visited the site of Ava in August, 1903, crossing the Irrawadi
River, from Sagaing. The old city wall, from which much of the
brickwork has been removed, still stretches along the bank of the
river for two miles. The main entrance, through which Judson must have
passed and repassed, is still intact, though the great gates have
disappeared.
The city was built in the angle formed by the junction of the Irrawadi
and Myitngi Rivers, and extended back along the Myitngi one and a
half miles. A smaller inner wall enclosed the palace and other royal
buildings. Only one building of the entire city is still standing.
This building is of brick, plastered on the outside with cement,
and represents the best workmanship of which their imported Indian
architects and masons were capable. It is about twenty-five feet
square and seventy-five feet high, and is without doors or windows.
There was a brick and plaster stairway on the outside, winding around
the tower. From some unknown cause the tower long ago settled on one
side, so that it leans fully six feet out of perpendicular. This
settling threw down the massive brick stairway, which now lies in
chaotic ruin.
This lofty building, standing within the royal quarters, was the
watch-tower. From its top long views up and down the great river, and
out over the open plains, could be obtained. Sentinels paced its top
to give timely warning of the approach of an enemy. On a great gong
they struck the hours by day and night. The sound, easily reaching far
beyond the limits of the royal grounds, would be welcomed by Judson
and his fellow sufferers to break the awful monotony of life in the
miserable prison, which stood outside the inner wall. The prison was
demolished many years ago, but within the memory of Burmans now living
near by. Around a large tree, that must have been large enough in
Judson's time to furnish partial shade from the fierce rays of the
tropical sun, a circular platform of old brickwork still remains.
Broken brick and roofing-tile cover the ground.
Much of the site of the old city is covered with tangled
jungle-growth, through which chetahs and other animals sometimes
prowl. A score of Burmans are slowly digging up the ground to the
depth of about three feet over the entire area once covered by the
royal buildings. Now and then their labours are rewarded by finds of
jewelry or silver.
The finer earth below the layer of _débris_ is washed for gold dust,
from the many gold-decorated buildings that have marked the spot
through the reign of many kings.
The sight of the Ava prison having been identified beyond a doubt, the
Baptists of America would do well to place there a suitable monument
to mark the spot where their first missionary suffered so much "for
Christ's sake and the gospel's."
After suffering for eleven long months at Ava the prisoners were
transferred to Aungbinle, a day's journey to the northeast. In
company with the missionary at Mandalay I rode to the place, two
days before my visit to Ava. Aungbinle is about five miles east of
Mandalay, towards the hills. Among the public works of Bodawp'ra, who
reigned from 1789 to 1819, was an artificial lake, formed by a raised
embankment of earth enclosing about fifteen square miles of the nearly
level plain.
This was filled by means of a canal connecting with a natural lake two
or three miles farther north, fed by mountain streams.
In these two reservoirs abundance of water for irrigation could be
stored for use through the many rainless months. This artificial lake
was called "Aung-binle"--the conquered or shut-in sea.
At its southwest bend Aungbinle village still stands, though its
thatch-and-bamboo houses have been renewed ten times over since Judson
was brought there to be thrown into the death-prison.
The site of this prison also has been identified beyond a reasonable
doubt. An aged Burman there pointed out the spot to missionaries who
were investigating the matter several years ago.
A Burman official who had been there many years, and was familiar
with land-titles, confirmed the old man's story. More recently an
old brick pathway was discovered when ditching the road that passes
the prison-site. This further corroborated the statement of the two
Burmans that the police quarters were on the north side of this road,
and the prison on the south. There is little room for doubt that the
brick pathway connected the two. The prison itself was only a bamboo
structure, of which nothing would now be left.
A Buddhist monastery erected later near the prison-site, was destroyed
by fire a few years ago. There are two pagodas within a stone's throw,
one of which may have stood there in Judson's time.
Except a few slender palms, the region must have been treeless, the
heat indescribable. The location of Mrs. Judson's house is uncertain.
Judging from the situation of the village, and the character of the
land near by it must have been quite near the prison.
[Illustration: ELEPHANTS AT WORK]
The Baptist mission has secured about two acres of land, including
the prison-site. By the generous gift of two American Baptists who
recently visited Aungbinle, a neat and substantial brick chapel has
been erected on the prison-site, as nearly as can be determined. A
little farther back, and to one side, is the Burman preacher's house,
also included in the gift. The missionary, who frequently visits
the village, has provided a miniature cottage of thatch-and-bamboo,
in which to rest and find protection from the mid-day heat. As one
attempts to realize the situation as it was,--Judson suffering untold
agonies, aggravated by his heartless tormentors,--in the miserable
prison; Mrs. Judson, in her isolation and friendlessness, suffering
from privation, intolerable heat, disease, and the yet greater mental
suffering on account of her husband who might at any moment be led
to execution before her eyes,--the picture becomes more and more
terrible. Then as we turn again to the chapel and preacher's house
our thoughts rise in praise to Him who has wrought these changed
conditions. On the very spot where the innocent and the guilty were
together imprisoned and tortured, an earnest man of God, of the same
race as the king by whose order these men suffered,--now proclaims
Jesus Christ as the world's Saviour.
As I turned away from this spot, and again as I passed out through
the old gateway at Ava, it was with an earnest prayer that a double
portion of Judson's spirit might rest upon his successors in this
heathen land.
X
HEROES AND HEROINES
If heroes and heroines are men and women who have shown startling
qualities in time of stress and strife, many such may be found among
converts from heathenism. The examples here given are from my own
fellow workers.
U Po Hline, pastor of the church at Pyinmana, is well known in the
Burman mission. A conspicuous figure at conventions and associations,
his massive form, intelligent face, and dignified bearing mark him a
"Saul among his brethren." But U Po Hline's interesting history is
not so well known. His early life was spent in the yellow robes of
the Buddhist priesthood. There he learned the real inwardness and
emptiness of the ancestral religion. In it he could not find that
which could satisfy his spiritual sense; nor was he satisfied to lead
the indolent, selfish life of the Buddhist priest.
But familiarity with their arguments and contents of their sacred
books, gained during the years of monastic life, was yet to be turned
to good account. Casting off the yellow robes he became a tiller of
the soil. By industry and good management not common to his race, he
possessed himself of rice-fields, bullocks, and buffaloes, and money
interests among the villagers where he lived.
Loyalty to the British Indian government never has been, and is not
to-day true of the mass of Burmans. U Po Hline's broader intelligence
led him not only to accept the inevitable, but also to see what
benefits would accrue to his race from English rule. He used his
influence to restrain his people from acts of violence, and in various
ways lent his aid to the progress of law and order.
In those troublous times he had an adventure, of which he never speaks
unless questioned on the subject. Returning from Rangoon where he had
marketed his harvest of _tsan_,--unhulled rice,--he and his boatmen
were attacked by dacoits. The boatmen, terrified by the fiendish yells
of these desperate dacoits, threw down their paddles and would have
tried to escape by taking to the water. Not so U Po Hline.
Neither his life nor his rupees were to be taken so easily. Crawling
under the _paung_, he seized his rifle, and,--to use his own
words--"Two of the dacoits sank in the water, and did not reappear."
The tables were turned. The dacoits, now as badly frightened as
the boatmen, lost no time in taking to the brush. U Po Hline still
remembers the adventure with the sad feeling that although acting
in self-defense, he sent two souls into eternity unprepared. His
conversion is especially interesting. A copy of the New Testament,
given him by a native evangelist, was the means of shaking his faith
in Buddhism; and of awakening a desire to know more about the "Jesus
Christ religion."
Relating the circumstances of his conversion he said: "I kept my New
Testament in my jacket pocket wherever I went. When resting from my
work I would take out my Testament and read a little, slowly going on
through Matthew, Mark, and Luke,--but I understood nothing of what
I read. I read about the birth of Jesus Christ, His teaching, His
wonderful miracles,--but who Christ was I did not know. Then I came
to John. In the first chapter I read: 'In the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was with God and the Word was God.' Then a little farther
down I read: 'That Word everything created; and without a divine
creating was not so much as one thing.' Is that so, I said. Did that
Word make _me_? and not only me, but everybody and everything in all
this great world? And then I read that He was the Light, and the Light
shines in the darkness, and the darkness would not receive it. Why, I
said, that is just the way it is here. These people are in the dark,
and will not believe what the preachers of the Jesus Christ religion
say to them.