Chiengmai by boat for a tour southward, taking attendants and
all necessary equipments, accompanied by a raw recruit, and
three efficient native helpers. We arrived at our first station
about the middle of the afternoon, and before bed-time held
religious conversation with as many enquirers as time would
permit. Our audience chamber was the house of one of our
newly-received members. Our ‘outward and ordinary means’ of
attracting an audience was a watch, two mariner’s compasses, a
magnifying glass, a stereoscope with an assortment of views, and
a violin. The raw recruit played the violin, and thus called the
audience together. We used both the other attractions to hold
them and to gain their confidence and interest; and afterwards
Dr. McGilvary easily and naturally drew them into religious
conversation. Soon the conversation became a monologue of
instruction in the religion of the great God. The violin was no
longer needed to arouse or sustain an interest. Every day, and
late into the evening, the Doctor and the three assistants
conversed; sometimes to quite an audience, sometimes to
individual enquirers.
“The religious attitude of the people was a revelation to the
newly-arrived missionary, and doubtless would be to most of
God’s people in the United States. Nearly all of these people
had heard of the ‘religion of the great God,’ but knew nothing
about it, since the district had never before been visited by a
missionary.... But their receptivity was marvellous.... Without
exception these Buddhists confessed at the outset, or were soon
brought to concede, the immeasurable superiority of
Christianity. Many said, ‘It is of no use to argue. Your books
tell the beginnings of things; ours do not.’ On one occasion
when Dr. McGilvary had finished reading and explaining the first
chapter of Genesis, one of his auditors remarked to his fellows,
‘There is more real information on that one page than in all
Buddha’s writings.’ The sense of sin is universal, so too is the
insufficiency of the works of merit. Many sad souls confessed
that they had long been dreading the penalty for sins for which
they feared that ‘merit-making’ could not atone.
“The results we cannot measure. We were absent two weeks.
Religious service or conversations were held in more than twenty
different homes, and in some of these several times. Audiences
varied from a single enquirer to fifty. Thus hundreds heard the
gospel for the first time. Many who seemed above the suspicion
of hypocrisy professed to believe and accept what they heard....
One principal reason for this tour just now, was to baptize in
his own home and among his subjects the chief officer of the
district. Himself, his wife, and his whole family were
baptized—a most interesting household. The abbot of one village
monastery professes to accept Christianity. For some time he has
been sending his parishioners, including his own sister, for
instruction. There is another district officer of the same rank
as our newly-baptized convert, a constant visitor and deeply
interested. This is a specimen tour, neither better nor worse
than the average taken these days. For the last two years,
although most of the time there have been but two ordained
missionaries in the field, over ninety ascessions have been made
to the First Church.”—_Church at Home and Abroad_, May, 1888.
Before the short trip reported by Mr. Dodd, I had taken a longer one to
the northern provinces, going over the same ground which Mr. Martin and
I had travelled the season before. This time I baptized thirty-six
adults and thirty-two non-communing members. The communion was
administered eight times. I married two couples and ordained one elder.
Each Sunday was spent in villages where there were already Christians.
This encouraging success was the harvest of seed sown on former tours,
but gathered largely through God’s blessing on the work of faithful
elders. Both in Chieng Rāi and in Chieng Sên we might then have
organized churches with a goodly number of members communing and
non-communing, and with very good material for officers. Nān Suwan at
Chieng Sên, like myself, never had the gift of fluent speech, but his
reputation for sterling integrity has left a mark that eloquence might
envy. And Āi Tū at Nāng Lê bids fair to be another power in the province
of Chieng Rāi. Both of them are strongly aided by their daughters, the
first-fruits of our Girls’ School.
During the year 1887 the whole number of adult accessions was one
hundred and seven; and one hundred and eleven non-communing members were
added to the roll, making two hundred and eighteen additions to our
little flock, exclusive of Lakawn. As I now look back over these years,
it is plain to me that the great lack of the mission all the way through
has been the lack of well-trained native helpers; and for this lack the
mission itself is largely to blame. Those who are eager to accomplish
the evangelization of the world within the present generation, should
first of all lay hold of the present generation of Christians in every
mission field. Fill _these_ with enthusiasm, qualify them, and send them
forth, and we have a lever that will lift the world.
From the Report of the Board in the same number of _The Church at Home
and Abroad_ cited above, we quote the following:
“Dr. and Mrs. Peoples are still left alone in Lakawn, the utmost
picket of the foreign missionary line. Mrs. Peoples has not one
lady for a companion; and the doctor is dangerously burdened,
bearing all alone the labour of teaching and healing. For more
than two years they have been waiting for help. No station under
the care of the Foreign Board calls so loudly for reinforcements
as this. Again and again we thought we had found a Christian
couple for Lakawn; but in each case we have been disappointed.
Single men could have been sent, but it is very much to be
desired that the new missionary going there should be married.
Dr. Peoples’ medical work has won for him increasing
friendliness throughout the city.... Mrs. McGilvary has revised
the Lāo version of Matthew’s Gospel, and has translated for the
first time about half of the book of Acts. The Scriptures have
had considerable circulation among the Lāo, but only in the
Siamese tongue.... Dr. Cary had no sooner reached the field than
through the assistance of Dr. McGilvary and Norwood McGilvary, a
young lad, acting as interpreters, he was able to begin work
with regular hours for receiving patients, and for surgical
practice.... Mr. Collins has made a beginning in the much-needed
school for boys.
“Only one other mission now under the care of our Presbyterian
Church has during the last year shown as much growth, in
proportion to the missionary force employed, as the Lāo
mission.... It is never out of place to remind our Presbyterian
Church that it is to her alone that God has committed the
evangelization of the Lāo tribes.”
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XXVI
A FOOTHOLD IN LAMPŪN
At a meeting of the Presbytery shortly before the opening of the year
1888, a committee consisting of Dr. Peoples, Mr. Dodd, and myself, was
appointed to organize two churches, one in Chieng Sên and one in Chieng
Rāi, if the way were found open to do so. We also arranged that Mrs.
McGilvary should accompany our son Norwood as far as Bangkok on his way
to the United States. And both expeditions were to start on the same
day, Monday, February 7th.
To ease somewhat the strain of such a parting, I took an earlier leave,
and went on Saturday with Mr. Dodd to spend Sunday with the church at Mê
Dawk Dêng. That evening we performed a marriage ceremony in the church.
The next day thirteen adults were received into the church—nine by
baptism and four who were children of the church. On Monday Mrs.
McGilvary and I exchanged our last good-byes by note, and both parties
got off on Tuesday morning. Dr. and Mrs. Peoples, starting from Lakawn,
made the first stage of their journey separately from us to a rendezvous
at the Christian village of Mê Kawn, twelve miles south of Chieng Rāi.
At our next Christian village another wedding was waiting for us, but
the course of true love did not run smooth. The bride belonged to a
well-to-do Christian family; but no member of it could read the
Scriptures. They, therefore, “redeemed” a Christian family for four
hundred rupees, in order to secure the services of the son as a sort of
Levite in the family, and to teach the eldest daughter to read.
Naturally, the two young people fell in love with each other. That was a
contingency the mother had not planned for, and a difficulty arose. She
asked, “If I take Nān —— for a son-in-law, where do my four hundred
rupees come in?” It was all in vain to tell her that she got her pay in
a good son-in-law. She said he was hers already till his debt was paid.
At last she so far relented as to allow the ceremony to take place, but
she would not see it performed. We invited the father and the rest of
the family and the neighbours into our tent, where, to their great joy,
the two were made man and wife. The implacable mother lived to see that
she had not made a bad bargain, after all.
At Mê Kawn we were joined by Dr. and Mrs. Peoples, and we had a good
Sabbath with the little flock there. Our club-footed man had looked
after it well, and he became later a good elder and a fine
disciplinarian. About this time I was taken with a severe attack of
indigestion, from which I did not recover for many months—the only
continued sickness from which I have suffered in all my connection with
the Lāo mission.
On reaching Chieng Rāi, we found our good friend the governor mourning
the death of his wife, the same who, when we last saw her, invited us to
worship in her house. It was a pleasure to point the bereaved man to the
divine Comforter, and we are fain to believe that our words were not in
vain. He was still anxious to have the mission station established,
which we, unfortunately, could not yet promise. The Chao Uparāt invited
Dr. Peoples to lecture with his magic lantern, and to have worship in
his residence, where we had a crowded audience. We did not organize a
church in Chieng Rāi, however, partly because the two Christian
villages, equidistant from the city north and south, could not agree on
the best place of meeting. But we found the way open in Chieng Sên, and
did organize a church there, in Nān Suwan’s house, on the very bank of
the Mê Kōng, and with one-half of its members living on the other shore.
Dr. Peoples had left a large practice in Lakawn, and was obliged to
return. Mr. Dodd returned with them to Lakawn, and thence to Chiengmai.
I had come untrammelled, to remain as long as duty called. It seemed
very desirable to follow up the impressions already made on that
community. But I was not well, and a week’s delay found me no better.
Thinking that a change might be beneficial, I crossed the plain to Sên
Yā Wichai’s home at the foot of the mountains. It was a hard day’s ride,
and I became worse on the way. On reaching my destination I could hardly
stand. Resting there on my back a few days without improvement, it
seemed my first duty to get to a physician as soon as possible, or, at
least, make the effort to do so. Most of the way I could stop at night
either with or near Christian families. This I did, and so reached
Chiengmai on April 14th.
During my absence the building of the Boys’ High School was completed;
and the school was opened under the direction of Mr. Collins on March
19th, with an enrollment of forty-five boys, nearly all children of
Christian parents. In June Dr. Wilson reached Chiengmai on his return
from the United States; and with him came Miss Fleeson, destined with
the Doctor to join the Peoples at Lakawn, and Miss Belle Eakin (now Mrs.
Dodd), for the Girls’ School in Chiengmai. Miss Griffin was already gone
on her furlough.
The building for the Girls’ School had long been in process of
construction. Builders and plans had been several times changed, till at
last Dr. Cheek took the contract, and finished it in the summer of 1888.
It has served its purpose admirably these many years, and we then
thought it would do for all time. But though the lot then seemed amply
large, it proves now entirely too small for the needs of the school.
Moreover, it is impossible to enlarge it. On its south side runs the
most travelled road in the country; while on the east the land is owned
by a wealthy official, who would not sell at any price.
Our congregations had grown till a church building became a necessity
even more urgent than, a schoolhouse. The first mission dwelling-house
was planned in part with reference to such need, its largest room long
being used for Sunday worship. Then a small temporary chapel took its
place. After that a larger teak double dwelling was bought. That,
however, would not hold more than two hundred persons—not more than half
of our largest congregations at the present day. Then for a time we
worshipped in the unfinished building for the Girls’ School. When, at
last, that was finished, it was needed for its original purpose, and we
again must move. It was then decided that we must have a church, and one
worthy of our cause—such as would attract rather than repel both rulers
and people. So one Sunday afternoon we held a meeting of the
congregation to take steps for building it. We were delighted to see the
interest manifested in the enterprise. Pā Kawng, an aged slave of the
Prince, laid down a silver rupee, which was all the money she
possessed—and it was the very first money received toward the building.
The church was completed by the end of this year.
We had continued evidence of the friendship of Prince Intanon, and even
of his growing interest in our work. One Sunday, in answer to an
invitation given by Mrs. Cheek, he attended our communion service,
conducted that day by Mr. Wilson. Although he arrived an hour and a half
too soon, he remained all through the long service, and bowed as he took
his leave, just when the communion cups were about to be passed. On the
day of our daughter’s marriage in Statesville, North Carolina, he and
the High Commissioner attended a reception given in honour of the event.
The Prince had known her as a child, and seemed much interested. “Is it
this very night that the marriage takes place?” he asked. The reception
was a very pleasant affair. Though my wife was still in Bangkok, Miss
Fleeson and Miss Eakin entered with all their hearts into the thing,
and, with the assistance of Mr. Dodd and Mr. Collins, carried it through
in splendid shape. After refreshments we had charades and other games.
It was amusing to see the look of surprise on the face of the Prince
when the charades were played.—“What are they doing?” “What does that
mean?” “I don’t understand.” But the game was quite too recondite to be
explained to him. So, after the first charade, His Highness and his
party took their leave, assuring us that they had enjoyed the evening
very much.
Dr. Wilson and Miss Fleeson presently journeyed on to their post at
Lakawn. The governor there gave the mission a very desirable plot of
ground for the new buildings which would be required, saying, “I am glad
to have you come. It would be a shame, when you come to live in our
country, if the government did not do something to make you
comfortable.”
Scarcely less important than the opening of the new station in Lakawn,
was the opening of permanent work in Lampūn, the largest and most
important sub-station of Chiengmai. Lampūn is a little gem of a walled
city in the same great plain as Chiengmai, and only eighteen miles
distant to the south. From the first settlement of the country, however,
it has been a separate state, yet governed by a branch of the same
ruling race.
We have seen that the new governor of Lampūn was friendly to the mission
and the missionaries. The opening of the work in Bān Pên and other
important villages near it, rendered it almost essential to have a
footing in Lampūn itself. After some negotiation we secured a suitable
lot, the grounds of the second governor recently deceased. We purchased
from the family the land with the old residence and the stockade. But
presently the family became alarmed lest they had been too hasty in
selling it to foreigners, and brought back the money, begging us to
restore the land. They brought, also, a message from the governor,
saying that he wanted the residence and the stockade himself, but would
_give_ us the rest of the land. It was to our interest to keep on good
terms with him, and we agreed to the arrangement. We got what we wanted,
a good station, and we retained, and probably increased the governor’s
friendship.
[Illustration:
REV. JONATHAN WILSON, D.D.
1898]
To make possession sure, I purchased a newly-built house which had come
to be regarded as unlucky, because the owner’s wife had suddenly died in
it. Having arranged to have the house moved and set up on the lot, I was
about to return to Chiengmai, thinking that there was nothing more to
do, when I was sent for by the chief executive officer of the Court. He
said that the governor, indeed, had given us the place, but the Court
wished to make one proviso. He begged that I would sign a paper
promising in few words that if the government at any time should need
it, we would give it up. The governor was growing old, and they
themselves would be held responsible. I saw at once that such a step
would put it in the power of any one to oust us. A need might be
feigned, and yet we should be powerless to withstand it. I was perfectly
dumfounded. My first thought was to go directly to the governor. But
presently I bethought me of the terms on which H. R. H. Prince Bijit,
the brother of His Majesty, had given to the mission the fine lot for
its hospital. The lot was given in perpetuity on condition that it be
used for medical and missionary purposes only. As long as it was so
used, it was ours. But it could not be sold, or used for other purposes,
without forfeiture to the Prince. The thought came to me as an
inspiration. I told the officer of that written deed. “Very well,” said
he. “If you have such a paper as that, show it to me, and I will give
you one like it for this lot.”
The difficulty was solved. A swift footman was despatched to Chiengmai
asking Mr. Martin to send me at once a copy of the Prince’s deed of
gift. Next morning it came, and I took it immediately to the Court. The
officer’s surprise was evident. He took it and read it carefully
through. His word was given. After a moment’s thought he said, “That is
all right. It will relieve me of all responsibility.” Then he called up
his clerk to copy its terms and execute the new deed. The land was ours
to use as long as we should use it for the purposes specified; and that
I hoped would be until the millennium! With a light heart I was soon
aboard my boat and homeward bound.
When the house had been removed and set up on the lot, Mr. Collins and I
went down and spent a week there, with interested audiences every night.
It at once became an important out-station of the Chiengmai mission. In
the meantime Mr. Dodd had already collected some twenty students for his
training-class, but without any quarters for them in Chiengmai. Later
Mr. and Mrs. Dodd were put in charge of the station, and the Training
School was moved over to Lampūn. When the Lampūn church was organized,
its charter members numbered nearly two hundred. It is now the mother of
two other churches. Scarcity of men in the mission, openings in other
places, and other causes have prevented the Lampūn station from being
continuously manned. But now, with such efficient workers there as Mr.
and Mrs. Freeman, it has an important future before it, as a sub-station
of Chiengmai.
Meanwhile my own sickness had continued, with several relapses. A minor
surgical operation had so delayed my recovery that Dr. Cary now advised
a change and rest in a boat trip to Bangkok. After the departure of our
son to the United States, my wife had remained in Bangkok for a visit,
and was soon to return. The telegraph line which the Siamese government
had recently completed, enabled me to wire to her to wait for me to come
and bring her back. Dr. Cary himself, who had never recovered from the
shock occasioned by the tragic death of Mrs. Cary, and who was never
well during his whole stay in the mission, decided to accompany me as
far as Rahêng.
At Pāknam Pō I left my boat, and took passage for Bangkok by river
steamer, thus saving seven days. After remaining in Bangkok only three
nights, my wife and I took passage in the same steamer on her return
trip, and rejoined our boat at the forks. The water was at its best
stage, and we passed up some of the rapids without knowing that they
were there. But my trouble had not left me. A low diet and long illness
had left me thin and weak. The round trip occupied only two months. Our
last Sunday was at Pāk Bawng, two days below Chiengmai. There we held a
communion service with the Christian families, and a new family was
baptized.
Three miles to the east is Bān Pên, the village which has figured in a
previous chapter. The Christians there had long been asking for a visit,
which my own sickness and want of time on the part of others rendered it
impossible to make. On Monday morning I decided to take the risk and
visit it. With some misgivings I saw my wife’s boat move off and leave
me—burning, so to speak, my bridges behind me. The whole country was
flooded. Discarding shoes and stockings, I made my way on foot, weak as
I was, through water, across ditches, or along the narrow ridges of
rice-fields, and finally reached Bān Pên in safety.
And what a week I spent in that neighbourhood! At Nawng Sīu, a village
two miles distant from Bān Pên, there were six families of professed
believers whom Dr. Dodd and I had visited the season before—almost
swimming at times to reach them in their scattered homes. Their
admission was postponed at that time until they should have had further
instruction. To these I specially addressed myself. During the week our
faithful elder, Nān Tā, came down to assist me in the work. On Friday
evening the session met at Nawng Sīu to examine and instruct these new
converts, and again on Saturday morning, closing finally at two o’clock
in the afternoon with baptism and the Lord’s Supper. On counting up the
numbers, it was found that twenty adults and seventeen children had been
baptized. Among them was an aged couple with their children,
grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. It was a memorable sight. The
Sabbath was spent at Bān Pên, where seven more adults and one child were
baptized. On Monday I made my way back to the boat as I had come, and
reached home on Tuesday. And now for the strange part of the story. _I
reached home well._ My week’s wading in the water, and the hard work,
had done what medicine and doctors and a long boat trip had failed to
accomplish!
But a new disappointment awaited me. Before I reached home, Dr. Cary had
resigned. His short career is one of the mysteries to be explained in
the great beyond. A consecrated physician, he had given his life to the
Lāo people. Crushed by his tragic bereavement on the way out, and with a
constitution never strong, he contended manfully for two years against
the debilitating effects of a malarial climate. But at last he had to
give up the fight. His work had been successful. “He saved others;
himself he could not save!”
His departure threw on me again the oversight of the medical work. But
this time most of the dispensing of medicine to the natives fell on
Chanta, a protégé of my own, who had had good training under two
physicians. Meanwhile Dr. Cheek looked after the mission families, and,
as already stated, was always ready to respond to an urgent call in the
hospital. My time was largely given, therefore, to the evangelistic
work, to instructing Nān Tā and other elders, and to teaching enquirers
and others to read in Siamese, first the Shorter Catechism, and then a
Gospel.
The growth of the Chiengmai church, though not phenomenal, was very
healthy and very uniform throughout the year. There were accessions
every month save one, amounting in all to one hundred and sixty souls.
At the end of the year Miss I. A. Griffin returned from furlough, and
served a very useful term until 1896, when she retired greatly missed.
At Lakawn, Rev. Hugh Taylor and his wife began a twenty years’ course of
evangelistic work carried on with indefatigable zeal, while Miss Fleeson
was no less zealous and successful in laying the foundation of a Girls’
School, destined to be a power in that province.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XXVII
A PRISONER OF JESUS CHRIST