PIONEER WORK AND CIVIL JURISDICTION.
Pioneer work is slow, and many people grumble at this. Some imagine that
pioneers are immediately to enter into houses built of stone and lime,
having grapes hanging in clusters from the walls, and surrounded by
lovely bowers amidst orange groves. These houses, they further expect,
will be accessible by the easiest roads, while at every stage there will
be an inn erected for the refreshment of travellers. If the pioneer do
not find all these things ready-made, he would need a magic wand to call
them into existence in the short time that such people allow him for the
accomplishment of his work. In reality, the first settler is beset with
difficulties at every step. Place a European in the centre of a tropical
forest extending twenty miles each way, where no road has ever been made,
tell him that within two years he must there erect a model station, and
though he have several artisans to help him, his first idea will be that
it would take the whole of that time to clear away the timber: at all
events he will feel that his fruit harvest will not fill his bosom very
soon. This is no fanciful supposition, for the pioneer may be placed
in a much larger forest, and he soon realises that work at home and
work in his new circumstances are quite different. After erecting some
miserable shed for himself, he may wish to begin his task by making—say
a wheel-barrow. This duty he assigns to the joiner, who sets to work,
and for days upon days is occupied with that wheel-barrow. The superior
thinks that he is trifling and begins to grumble.
“Why, I have known a carpenter at home make a barrow in a third of the
time. What can you be about?”
“True, sir, but the carpenter at home gets all the wood properly cut up
for him and well seasoned, and for wheels he has nothing to do, but——.”
“Still, if you reckon your time, that barrow has cost more than £20
already.”
“Yes, sir, but I had to go and cut down the trees and convey them up
here. Then I had to saw them up and begin to cut out—”
As the practical man proceeds thus to enumerate the stages of his work,
his missionary friend begins to fear that the victory over the forest
will not be gained even so soon as he at first expected. Perhaps the
saddest part of the experiment is to come. After the “barrow” is made it
is of no use! Many early experiments end in this way. The learned critic
at home exclaims, “Why should the blockhead want a barrow? If I were
there, I would use the cattle and horses of the natives for beasts of
burden!” But the critic has a great advantage over the hapless pioneer—it
is so much easier to create cattle and horses in the imagination than in
the African jungle.
_Religious Work._—Difficult as it is to be a Pioneer of Civilisation,
it is still more so to be a Pioneer of Religion. Christians in Central
Africa find it easier to make the forest a farm than to make the
savage a Christian. These Europeans were confronted with the delicate
and difficult problem of evangelising, and they most realised their
powerlessness when Sunday came round. As the natives pressed about them
on the day of rest, they felt in their hearts “we must do something”. But
what could they do? Absolutely nothing. They had no interpreters. Unable
to speak to the natives, they might try to show good feeling by looks and
gestures, but after all, these appeared to the savage as nothing better
than ridiculous grimaces. But they happened to have a musical box, and
on a Sabbath afternoon, they judged it better to turn this on than to do
nothing!
The Livingstonia Mission fortunately possessed interpreters, one of whom
was ultimately lent to Blantyre. Still unless interpreters are educated,
and understand something of Christianity, they cannot be relied on. They
may assist a missionary in learning the language, but they will not do
for preaching. On one occasion a European missionary of much experience
was delivering an able, and as he thought, a solemn address to these
natives through an interpreter, when all at once the whole audience burst
into a fit of laughter. Everyone appreciated the joke intensely except
the speaker himself. Now an accident like this may happen even where
the interpreter is rendering most literally. Indeed if a clergyman were
suddenly introduced into the heart of these tribes, able himself to
speak their words, he would find that many vocables he used, have very
different associations in their tongue from what they have in his own. In
order to benefit the natives one must be able not merely to speak their
words, but to understand their mode of thought.
_Civil Jurisdiction._—It would clearly be no light task for men to
perform all these duties, even where left to work without interruption,
and under a settled government. But the missionaries discovered that life
and property were not so secure as in Britain, for soon they suffered
much from thieves. They had good cause to be watchful, as if their
clothes were all carried off, they had no chance of getting more for a
whole year. In that remote land there were no clothiers and tailors,
and through a successful theft, or a fire, a man might be reduced to
the primitive fig leaves. A European superintending road-making at a
distance from his colleagues, awoke one night to find that his wardrobe
was—nothing to boast of!
The missionaries were bound to face the problems of dealing with thieves,
and the method adopted has been described at the end of last chapter,
in a letter which was published in full in the Scotch newspapers, and
of which extracts were made in the Missionary Record of the Church
of Scotland. On that occasion no one criticised the Mission or its
Directors; but at a later period the method was entirely condemned. For
myself, I was very much astonished the first time I was told that the
Directors had sanctioned the practice. I thought it objectionable, not
because I fancied that there was the least suspicion of cruelty or
danger, but because I did not like to see it connected in the remotest
way with Mission work. Still those that know the state of the country
will not wonder that the Directors had assumed civil jurisdiction,
sanctioned flogging, and asked certain agents to act as magistrates. In
a letter which was sent out long after, for the special guidance of the
missionaries, we found the words, “I do not see how you can possibly do
without corporal punishment,[1] and I strongly advise it”. A person on
the spot would see that the criminal thus got more lenient treatment than
he would have received at the hand of his fellows. By the native law of
the district, a thief puts himself beyond the pale of human rights, and
becomes liable to be treated as a leopard. No sooner was that offender
(page 34) taken than certain of the native workmen at Blantyre said,
“Give him to us and we will kill him”. But the punishment of death for
theft, though inflicted by African law, could never be countenanced by
English missionaries. Still it may be said, might they not have thought
of merely confining the criminal? They did think of this, and sometimes
wondered how they could make the imprisonment proportionate to the
offence. These were thefts, often of valuable property as compared
with the native rate of wages, and if the thief were kept till he
wrought even for half the value, he would not be liberated for years!
Though this looks an absurd difficulty, yet it was discussed by some
of these pioneers in a grave manner. Only they seem to have felt that
imprisonment was hardly a punishment at all to the native. He has no fine
susceptibilities, and if he had to do no work, to be housed and cared for
by Europeans, would be the acme of enjoyment to him. In any case the real
punishment of an imprisonment would fall upon the European jailor that
attended the prisoner. In adopting the plan of flogging, I have no doubt
all parties were fully persuaded that the criminal thus received a milder
chastisement than he would have had from his own countrymen.
But strictly speaking the Mission (although this did not appear at
the outset) was wrong in assuming that it had a right to inflict any
punishment at all. The Agents that were instructed to act as Magistrates,
had the general sanction of the African Law and the special consent of
the Native Chiefs, but while they remained British subjects they were
breaking Acts of Parliament which forbade the civil jurisdiction that had
been assumed.
This plan, however, went on without any incident for about a year,
when it terminated[2] as follows:—A native carrier made away with a
box containing about 70 lbs. of tea, and was subjected to the usual
punishment. But in this case the culprit seems to have been given over
to the tender mercies of some natives. Now this might have been quite
justifiable as an experiment in carrying out native law, but it was a
doubtful method on the whole, as it is too common for natives to flog a
person to death for the most trivial offence. It happened in this case,
that the poor fellow died.
The medical man testified that the flogging did not seem to have been
sufficient cause of the death, nor was it suspected at the time that the
unfortunate thief had been beaten with undue severity. But precognitions,
taken long after, went to show that the punishment inflicted was much
too severe. This supposed evidence, however, was not carefully sifted,
and it came from men who were allowed to have an _animus_ against an
artisan who was afterwards found to be entirely innocent. Still the
case gave a lesson to all and sundry regarding the danger of this
method of punishment, and though it was not connected with the Mission
it ultimately shewed the danger of mixing up Mission work with civil
affairs. Such a position as the Church had taken might be necessary in
a lawless land, but the promoters of a colony ought to have considered
exactly how it was to be carried on. Were they to ask an Ordained
Minister to act as a Civil Governor? Such a one if he had the spirit of
a Missionary at all, would find more congenial work, and would reply, “I
cannot come down: why should the work cease, whilst I leave it and come
down to you?” At the same time, if there did arise any suspicion that
criminals were treated with too great severity, it became the duty of
everyone to endeavour to discourage such an administration of justice,
even though he could put nothing in its place.
_Efforts made to find a Clergyman._—Hitherto, the Missionaries at
Blantyre had been laymen, but the Directors tried earnestly to get a
clergyman to join the Mission. In the report of 1877, they say:—
“It is with pain and regret that the Committee have to report that,
notwithstanding many and sustained efforts, they have not succeeded in
obtaining an ordained minister to the Mission. The staff at Blantyre
were sent out to prepare the way for a minister, and, indeed, it was
plain some time would elapse before the services peculiarly called for
at a minister’s hands would be needed. But it is felt the Mission is the
nucleus of a Church, with the minister as the proper head—the instrument
and director of the Christian agency among the people. It was scarcely
dreamed of, that a year would elapse, and yet, notwithstanding many
calls, see the Mission without its spiritual leader. The want, indeed,
is temporally supplied by the charity of the sister Mission (_i.e._, of
the Free Church) but is it not matter of humiliation that no one has come
forth from the ordained ranks of the Church to go to Blantyre in the
spirit of their Master’s love, and to gather into His gentle fold the
thousands of poor and crushed, but docile and willing natives, who are
day and night crying inarticulately for the day of their redemption?”
Even the above touching appeal although most widely circulated had no
effect. On this matter (which we venture to allude to, as bearing greatly
on Mission work), it may be remarked that the difficulty in finding
Missionaries arises chiefly from the position that these men occupy.
Notwithstanding that the Church of Scotland throughout her history has
said much about Presbyterian parity, her Missionaries are placed on a
very inferior footing as compared with her regular Clergy. In using the
word inferior, I do not apply it to the Missionaries themselves (who
have the same training as other clergymen) but only to their position,
although, unfortunately, most young men feel that the footing on which
the Church appoints such Agents gives a key to the value that she sets
upon their work. The Minister of a Parish in Scotland cannot be deprived
of his charge till an accusation is formulated against him, and found
proven by a regular legal process, but the Missionary must put himself
under a Committee of Managers who may dispense with his services at
their pleasure. Hence we rarely hear of any Minister of the Church of
Scotland leaving a home charge for the sake of Mission work, however
urgent, and indeed it is not often that the Church goes in quest of
Ordained Ministers, her Missionary posts being usually filled from the
ranks of students, and students too whose education has been aided by
the Foreign Mission Funds. Another difficulty that meets the Missionary
arises from the want of interest in his work. The Ministers at home are
fully occupied with the affairs of their own charges, and they cannot
be expected to attend to the comparatively insignificant efforts made
abroad, and when they have to think of Foreign Work at all, they lay hold
of the views that lie nearest the surface. It has frequently been the
experience of Missionaries that the ignorance of their true circumstances
was as great as the amount of ocean-water that separated them from their
native land. Shortly after being ordained to a charge in the North
of Scotland, the writer had the Blantyre Mission first brought under
his notice when he received a letter of 12 Nov., 1877, which began as
follows:—
“I have no idea whether the following suggestion may at all commend
itself to you, but I write simply because what I have heard of you is
so favourable that I am confident you would suit on your side, if the
idea should be entertained by you. A clerical head is wanted for our
new Mission in Africa.” But although the necessities of Africa appealed
strongly to every generous impulse, the Missionary Regulations of the
Church seemed to present a barrier to any reasonable adventure on
behalf of that dark land. The missionary requires some guarantee that
he will not be torn away from his work after he sets his heart on it.
At the request of the member of the Mission Committee who had sent me
the letter, I went to meet him, taking with me a copy of the Missionary
Regulations. I pointed out the Rules that I thought objectionable, and
was told that they applied to India and not to Africa at all, and that
my position would be practically that of a parish minister. Receiving
this statement with full confidence, I inferred that the chief enemies
to calculate on now, were discomfort and dishealth. Still such cases
present a dilemma. While a person is convinced that there is a strong
call to mission work abroad, he feels also that much good work may be
done at home. After more pressing representations from headquarters, and
subsequent interviews with devoted men like Dr. MacRae of Hawick, whose
missionary zeal was infectious, I began to feel that my duty was more
clear. But I deliberated much on the matter, and on 1st January, 1878, I
wrote Dr. MacRae not to trust to my going but I said, “I see clearly it
is the duty of some one to go”.
By the middle of January, however, I consented to go to Africa. As it was
deemed very dangerous to encounter the tropical rivers till much later,
our start was deferred till 11th April. By May 4th, we reached Capetown,
where we met Sir Bartle Frere, who takes much interest in Central Africa.
A few days more brought us to Port Elizabeth. Here we received a letter
from Dr. Stewart, of Lovedale, warning us against entering the country at
such a dangerous season. But since we had the promise of our Directors
that the Medical Missionary would meet us at Quilimane, we felt that it
would be unfair to make any European risk his life in waiting for us at
such an unhealthy place, and consequently we pressed on.