{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_51080/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_51080","id":"gutenberg_51080","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51080","summary":null,"tags":["Burma -- Social life and customs","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Travel Writing"],"text":"AMONG THE BURMANS\n\n[Illustration: A TYPICAL SHAN]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: (titlepage)]\n\nAmong the Burmans\n\nA record of fifteen years\nof work and its fruitage\n\nBy\nHENRY PARK COCHRANE\n\nILLUSTRATED\n\n\nNEW YORK      CHICAGO      TORONTO\nFleming H. Revell Company\nLONDON AND EDINBURGH\n\n\n\n\nCopyright, 1904, by\nFLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY\n\n\nNew York: 158 Fifth Avenue\nChicago: 63 Washington Street\nToronto: 27 Richmond Street, W\nLondon: 21 Paternoster Square\nEdinburgh: 30 St. Mary Street\n\n\n\n\nPreface\n\n\nThe aim of this book is to give a true picture of life and conditions\nin Burma. Heathen religions, superstitions, and native customs\nare described as seen in the daily life of the people. Concrete\nillustrations are freely used to make the picture more vivid. Truth\nis stronger than fiction. In matters of personal experience and\nobservation I have used the \"Perpendicular Pronoun\" as more direct\nand graphic. In matters of history I have read nearly everything\navailable, and drawn my own conclusions, as others have done before\nme. If interest in \"The Land of Judson\" is stimulated by reading this\nlittle volume, its object will have been accomplished.\n\n            H. P. C.\n\n\n\n\nContents\n\n\nI. FIRST EXPERIENCES                   9\n\nII. LIVING LIKE THE NATIVES           27\n\nIII. CUSTOMS OF THE BURMESE           37\n\nIV. CHIEF RACES OF BURMA              70\n\nV. BUDDHISM AS IT IS                 113\n\nVI. BURMA'S OUTCASTS                 146\n\nVII. A NATION IN TRANSITION          157\n\nVIII. \"BY ALL MEANS--SAVE SOME\"      167\n\nIX. \"WITH PERSECUTIONS\"              208\n\nX. HEROES AND HEROINES               224\n\nXI. PECULIAR EXPERIENCES             240\n\nXII. OBSTACLES                       250\n\nXIII. WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT          265\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n                              FACING PAGE\n\nA TYPICAL SHAN                      Title\n\nRAW MATERIAL (KACHINS)                 30\n\nKACHINS SACRIFICING TO DEMONS          30\n\nPOUNDING RICE                          40\n\nDANCING GIRLS                          48\n\nTATTOOING                              56\n\nBUDDHIST SHRINES                       78\n\nBURMESE WOMAN WEAVING                  90\n\nWORSHIPERS                            116\n\nA KAREN FAMILY                        128\n\nBUDDHIST IDOL                         128\n\nTHE LAST KING OF BURMA                158\n\nGOVERNMENT HOUSE, RANGOON             164\n\nHOW WE TRAVEL BY CART AND BOAT        172\n\nTRANSPLANTING RICE                    180\n\nDORIAN SELLERS                        180\n\nPINEAPPLES AND JACKFRUIT              204\n\nELEPHANTS AT WORK                     222\n\nBAPTIST CHURCH, RANGOON               268\n\n\n\n\nAmong the Burmans\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nFIRST EXPERIENCES\n\n\nThe _Chanda_ was slowly making her way with the tide up the Rangoon\nRiver. Two young missionaries, myself and wife, were leaning on the\nrail, deeply interested in the scene before us. The rising sun,\nsending its rays over the land, seemed to us a pledge of the Master's\npresence in the work to which we had consecrated our lives. On every\nhand were strange sights and sounds, strange scenery, strange craft,\nstrange people; everything far and near so unlike the old life that\nwe had left behind. But it was something more than new sights and\nsounds that stirred in us the deep emotion expressed in moistened eye\nand trembling lip. Thoughts were going back to the time when we heard\nthe call, \"Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?\" And now that\nwe were about to enter upon the realization of that to which we had\nso long looked forward, hearts too full for utterance, were stirred\nwith gratitude and praise. But not long were we permitted to indulge\nin either retrospect or prospect. As the steamer drew near the dock\nall was turmoil and excitement,--officers shouting their orders;\nsailors dragging the great ropes into place; passengers getting their\nluggage ready for quick removal; friends on ship and shore eagerly\nseeking to recognize a familiar face; waving of handkerchiefs; sudden\nexclamations when an acquaintance or loved one was recognized.\n\nAt last the gangplank is in place, and on they come,--officials,\ncoolies, business men, hotel-runners, representatives of many races,\nand conditions, energy for once superseding rank; missionaries well to\nthe front to extend a welcome to the newcomers.\n\nWhat a power there is in the hearty hand-shake and cordial\ngreeting! To the newcomer, who has everything to learn and much to\nunlearn,--this warm reception by the veterans is a link to reconnect\nhim with the world from which he seemed to have been separated during\nthe long voyage; a bridge to span the gulf of his own inexperience; a\nmagic-rite of adoption into the great missionary family; a pledge of\nfellowship and cooperation for all the years to come.\n\nIt was Sunday morning,--though few in that motley crowd either knew or\ncared. Mohammedan, Hindu, Parsee, Buddhist, and \"Christian\" jostled\none another, each intent on his own affairs, and all combining to\nmake this the farthest possible extreme from a \"day of holy rest.\"\nLittle wonder that this first Oriental Sunday was a distinct shock\nto the new missionaries. They had yet to learn that on many such\nSundays they would long for the \"Sabbath- and Sanctuary-privileges\"\nof the home-land. But soon it became evident that the missionaries at\nleast, were about the \"Father's business,\" each hurrying away to be\nin time for the morning service in his own department of mission-work\namong many races. To the eye of one who has just landed in Rangoon\neach individual in the throng of natives on the street seems to have\narrayed himself as fantastically as possible, or to have gone to\nthe other extreme and failed to array himself at all. But at these\nChristian services one sees the natives classified according to race,\nand learns to distinguish certain racial characteristics,--of feature,\ncostume, and custom. A congregation of Burmese is a beautiful sight,\ntheir showy skirts, turbans, and scarfs presenting the appearance of a\nflower garden in full bloom, but especially beautiful as a company of\nprecious souls turned from their idols to the \"True and living God.\"\n\nAmong our first experiences was a warm appreciation of the kind\nattempts on the part of the missionaries to initiate us, by means of\ngood advice, into life in the tropics. \"Now _do_ be careful about\nexposing yourself to this tropical sun. Remember, you are not in\nAmerica now.\"\n\n\"That solar tope of yours is not thick enough for one who is not used\nto this climate.\" \"Flannel next to the skin is absolutely necessary,\nas a safeguard against malaria, dysentery, and other complaints so\ncommon here.\" \"Now dear brother and sister, you must look out and not\nlet your zeal run away with your judgment. Yankee hustle won't do in\nBurma.\"\n\nDear souls, we thought, you mean well, but we are not subject to these\ntroubles of which you speak. Their warnings sink about as deep as the\nremark of one of our party who ran down the gangplank just ahead of\nus: \"When you have been in the country as long as I have, etc.,\"--an\nold expression, now under the ban. A few months later we began to take\ntheir advice. Experiences leading to such action will be described\nfurther on. Two days afterwards we reached our mission station, just\nas the sun was going down. While picking out our \"luggage\" (it was\nbaggage when it left America) we received our first impressions as to\nthe British Indian system of checking, or \"booking,\" as it is called.\n\nA luggage receipt given at the starting point, called for so many\npieces. Then we found that to each article was glued a patch of paper\non which its destination was marked, and also a number corresponding\nto the number on the receipt. All well so far. The luggage clerk\nseemed neither to know nor care, but left each passenger to claim his\nown.\n\nWe noticed too that everything imaginable was allowed to be booked, a\ncertain number of _viss_ in weight being allowed free on each ticket.\n\nTo our observing eyes, each passenger's luggage indicated about how\nlong he had been in the country, or how much he had travelled.\n\nSome evil spirit seems to possess the luggage clerk's assistant to\nglue the label in a new place each time, cancelling other bookings\nby tearing off loose corners of old labels. This custom is specially\ntrying to spirituality when applied to bicycles, the railroad glue\nhaving such affinity for enamel that they stay or come off together.\nAnother thing that impressed us was the suddenness with which the\ndarkness of night came on, as if \"darkness rather than light\" reigned\nover this heathen land, and could hardly wait for the usurping sun to\ndisappear behind the horizon. First impressions of our new home we\ngained late that night, by the dim light of a lantern. Home, did I\nsay? As we peered through the shadows it did not strike us as being\na place that could ever, by any stretch of imagination, seem like\nhome. Bare, unpainted walls dingy with age; huge round posts, some\nof them running up through the rooms; no furniture except a teak\nbedstead, and a large round table so rickety that it actually bowed\nto us when we stepped into the room; lizards crawling on walls and\nceiling,--interesting and harmless things, as we afterwards found,\nbut not specially attractive to a newcomer. Oh, no,--it was not\nhomesickness, only just lack of power to appreciate a good thing after\nthe weary experiences of our long journey. In the night I was roused\nfrom sleep by hearing some one calling. Half awake, I was getting\nout from under the mosquito net, when my wife remarked, \"Better get\nback into bed. It is only that _taukteh_, that Mrs. ---- told us\nabout.\" The taukteh is the \"crowing,\" or \"trout-spotted lizard.\" The\nEnglish call it the tuctoo, from the sound it makes. The Burmans call\nit taukteh, for the same reason. Some declare that it says \"doctor,\ndoctor,\" as plain as day. Alarming stories are told of this terrible\ncreature; how it loses its hold on the ceiling to alight in a lady's\nhair, and that nothing short of removing scalp and all will dislodge\nit. The worst thing we have known it to do was to wake the baby in the\ndead of the night, when we had got fairly settled to sleep after hours\nof sweltering. I have shot several for this unpardonable offense. The\ntaukteh's sudden call in the night causes some children to suffer much\nfrom fright, though no harm is intended.\n\nOur house was situated on a narrow strip of land with streets on three\nsides, and school dormitory in the rear. Just across one street\nwas a native Police Guard, but we did not know what it was until\nnext morning. We had come into our possessions after dark, so knew\nnothing of our environment. These were dacoit times. Disturbances were\nfrequent. Of course our ears had been filled with exciting stories of\ndacoit atrocities. The incessant and unintelligible jabbering of the\nPaunjabby policemen, sometimes sounding as though they were on the\nverge of a fight, and the sharp call of the sentry as he challenged\npassers-by were anything but conducive to sleep through that first\nnight in our mission bungalow.\n\nThe new missionary has many trying experiences while becoming\naccustomed to the changed conditions of life in the tropics. Judging\nfrom our own experience and observation, covering many years, it seems\nutterly impossible for the returned missionary to transmit to the new\nmissionary, while yet in the home-land, anything like true conceptions\nof the life upon which he is about to enter, and how to prepare for\nit. Either the new missionary has theories of his own which he fondly\nimagines never have been tried, or he considers himself so unlike\nother mortals that rules of living, developed by long experience,\ndo not apply to one of his own peculiar physical make-up. But\nwhatever his attitude of mind towards the new life and work, the\nfact remains that he has dropped down in the midst of conditions so\nunlike anything in his past experience that he must learn to adapt\nhimself to life as he finds it. The first place to apply his gift of\nadaptation is in the household. First experiences with native servants\nare decidedly interesting, to say the least. Our cook \"Naraswamy,\"\n\"Sammy\" for short,--came to us highly recommended, and neatly clothed.\nWe had not yet learned that the poorer the cook, the better his\nrecommendations (often borrowed from some other cook), and the neater\nhis clothing,--also borrowed for the purpose of securing a place, but\nnever seen after the first day or two.\n\nOne day when \"Missis\" was giving directions about the dinner she\ncalled Sammy and said, \"Sammy, how many eggs have you?\" \"Two egg,\nmissis.\" \"Very well, you make a pudding the best you can, with the\ntwo eggs.\" At dinner no pudding appeared. \"Sammy, where is the\npudding?\" Putting on a sorrowful look Sammy replied, \"I done break\negg\" (spreading out his hands to indicate the two eggs), \"one got\nchild, one got child.\" When Sammy felt fairly sure of keeping his\nplace, his two little boys began to spend much of their time in and\naround the cook house. One of our first rules was that no child should\nbe allowed to go naked on the mission compound. These two dusky\nyoungsters had not a thread of clothing. Sammy was called up and\ninstructed that if his children were coming to the mission premises,\nthey must be properly clothed, at the same time presenting him with\na suit for one child. The next day they came again, with smiles of\nsatisfaction, one wearing the trousers, the other the jacket. Many\nof these Madrassi cooks are professing Christians, merely to secure\na place in a missionary family. A small minority are Christians in\nfact. But whether a heathen cook sneaks off with a stuffed turban, or\na professed Christian appropriates our food quietly humming \"I love to\nsteal,----\" the resulting loss to commissariat and spirituality is the\nsame.\n\nMadrassi cooks, almost without exception, are dishonest. They will\njealously guard \"Master's\" property against the depredations of all\ncomers, but help themselves to a liberal commission from the daily\nBazar money,--and catch them if you can. This has been their custom\nfor many generations, and is their right, from their point of view.\n\nWhen engaging a cook it may as well be kept in mind that his pay is so\nmuch a month, and ----. He will fill out the blank to suit himself.\n\nTake his Bazar-account every day, and make him show the articles\ncharged for, but do not congratulate yourself that he has made nothing\nby the transaction. And yet his prices may be quite as low as his\nemployer could get. Find fault with the quality of the meat, and\nhe will bring a better article, but short weight. A stranger might\nconjecture that the meat was selected for its wearing qualities, as\none would buy leather; or that they had heard of the mummified beef\nfound with one of the Pharaohs, and decided that only such was kingly\nfood.\n\nThe cook is supposed to board himself. He does, and all his family\nconnections. Just how he does it may never be known, but \"Master\" pays\nthe bill, in \"cash or kind.\" Bengalee cooks are much more desirable,\nbut hard to get. Mrs. Judson's testimony to the faithfulness of her\nBengalee cook may well be repeated here.\n\n\"I just reached Aungpenla when my strength seemed entirely exhausted.\nThe good native cook came out to help me into the house; but so\naltered and emaciated was my appearance that the poor fellow burst\ninto tears at the first sight. I crawled on to the mat in the\nlittle room, to which I was confined for more than two months, and\nnever perfectly recovered until I came to the English camp. At this\nperiod, when I was unable to take care of myself, or look after Mr.\nJudson, we must both have died had it not been for the faithful and\naffectionate care of our Bengalee cook. A common Bengalee cook will do\nnothing but the simple business of cooking; but he seemed to forget\ncaste, and almost all his own wants in his efforts to serve us, ...\nI have frequently known him not to taste food until near night, in\nconsequence of having to go so far for wood and water, and in order to\nhave Mr. Judson's dinner ready at the usual hour. He never complained,\nnever asked for his wages, and never for a moment hesitated to go\nanywhere, or perform any act that we required.\"\n\nThe dhoby (washerman) is always a source of much distraction. He takes\naway the soiled linen on Monday, _promising_ to bring it back on\nSaturday; carries it to the riverside, stands in the water facing the\nshore, pounds it out on a flat stone with swinging blows, and,--brings\nback what is left. Garments worn perhaps but once, are found on\nspreading out, to be spoiled by long rents or mildew. Socks that have\nbeen filled with sand in order to strike a harder blow, still retain\nenough sand to cause much discomfort. One or two pieces are missing\naltogether. He promises to bring them the next time. In the meantime\nhe has probably hired them out to some person of mixed blood and\nprinciples, or native aping European habits. The sweeper, waterman,\nand other native helpers slight their work, or perchance, with the\npoorest excuse, and that not made known until afterwards,--absent\nthemselves altogether. \"But why\"--some will ask \"is it necessary to\nemploy these native cooks, washermen, etc.?\n\n\"Many of these women who go to the foreign field as missionaries'\nwives were accustomed to do much of their own work here at home,--why\nnot do the same over there, and so avoid the expense,--as many of\nus who support them have to do?\" In the first place, many of the\nmissionaries have only one servant who is paid for full time, that\nis the cook. All others do a little work night and morning, their\nwages being made up by serving several different families. Again, it\nwould be a physical impossibility for the missionary's wife to do the\ncooking and washing, adding the heat and smoke of an open fire to the\ntropical heat of the atmosphere. Some have tried it, only to give it\nup as utterly impracticable. Others have persisted in it, only to be\nlaid away in a cemetery in a foreign land, or to return hopelessly\nbroken in health, to the home-land.\n\n_It cannot be done._ Moreover, it would be the height of folly for the\nwife to spend her time and strength over cooking utensils, dish-pans\nand wash-tubs. The wife, as truly as the husband, has consecrated\nher life to the Master's service. There is work for her to do, among\nthe women and children, that he cannot touch. The missionary's wife\nwhether touring with him among jungle-villages; visiting from house\nto house in the town; working in the school; making her influence\nfelt in the church; or even when prevented by family cares or failing\nhealth--from engaging in active service,--she furnishes the object\nlesson of a well-ordered Christian home, her life is of just as much\nworth to the cause of Christ as is that of the missionary whose\nhelpmate she is. I can do no better than quote Dr. Herrick's beautiful\ntribute to her worth: \"I never yet saw a missionary's wife whose\ncompanionship did not double her husband's usefulness. I have known\nmore than one whose face, as the years of life increase took on that\ncharm, that wondrous beauty that youthful features never wear, the\nbeauty of character, disciplined by suffering, of a life unselfishly\ndevoted to the highest ends. One of the choicest things of missionary\nwork is the unwritten heroism of missionary homes. It is the\nmissionary's wife who, by years of endurance and acquired experience\nin the foreign field, has made it possible, in these later years, for\nunmarried women to go abroad and live and work among the people of\neastern lands.\"\n\nWhen a young man or woman has once settled the burning question: Is\nit my duty and privilege to go as a missionary? and has become fully\npledged to that service, there is an intense desire to get to the\nscene of action as soon as possible; to enter upon the grand work of\nproclaiming Christ where He has not been named.\n\nWe had not long been in our new home before Burmans, both Christian\nand heathen, began to call to see the new teachers. They evidently\nwanted to welcome us as their missionaries; and we, in turn, wanted\nthem to know that love for them, for whom Christ died, had brought\nus among them. But how helpless we felt! An exchange of smiles, a\nhand-shake, a few words that neither party could understand,--that was\nall.\n\nWe found ourselves utterly powerless to communicate to them one word\nof all that was burning,--had been burning for years, in our hearts.\nThen it was that the fact fully dawned upon us that before we could\nhope to do effectively the work to which we had consecrated our lives,\na difficult foreign language must be mastered; that we must keep our\nconsecration warm, from the A B C of a strange tongue until the time\nwhen, through the medium of that tongue we could tell \"the story of\nJesus and His love.\" First in order then, is to get right down to hard\nboning on the language of the people among whom the missionary is to\nlabour. He who fails to gain a strong hold on the language during the\nfirst year, will labour under a disadvantage through all the years of\nmissionary service. Burdens are thrust upon him more than enough to\nconsume all his time and strength. Hundreds of villages in his large\ndistrict furnish a strong appeal to postpone study.\n\nThe climate soon begins to effect him so that he seems to lose the\npower to study. Inheriting a large organized work he is forced at\nonce into service as a full-fledged missionary, before a pin-feather\nof experience has had time to start. Interruptions are frequent and\nunavoidable. How to find time for language study is indeed a serious\nproblem,--_but he must find it_, if his life is to tell for Christ,\nat its best. Moreover, the missionary must master practically two\nlanguages before he is fully equipped for service,--the language\nof the book, and the language of the people. The formal style of\nclassical Burmese would be as out of place in the jungle as the\ncolloquial Burmese would be in the pulpit. In the one case it would\nnot be understood, in the other it would give offense,--for one may\nnot \"talk down\" to even a native audience. Hence, to be effective the\nmissionary must at the same time be faithful to study, and to real\ncontact with the people. It is no easy matter, after one has struggled\nthrough all the years of training in the home-land, thumbing Latin,\nGreek, and Hebrew Lexicons until he fondly thinks that his training\nhas been completed,--to get right down again to the A B C of a new\nlanguage. Here he meets something, that will test the soundness of\nhis consecration and of his _staying_ qualities. From first to last\nour great missionaries have been men who have thoroughly mastered\nthe language of their people. But it is perfectly wonderful how the\nnatives will listen respectfully to the most laborious attempts to\nspeak to them in their own tongue. Not a smile at the most ridiculous\nmistakes, not a word or sign to indicate that they are not really\nunderstanding what you are driving at. This excessive respect\nsometimes leads to serious consequences. The missionary, thinking\nthat he has made himself understood, is disappointed and hindered\nbecause things do not come to pass. The native is not wanting a sense\nof humour, and if he feels sure that you will enjoy the joke, he will\npoint out the mistake, and join in the laugh over it.\n\nUnlike other languages of Burma, the construction of a Burmese\nsentence is the reverse of the English order. Many sentences may be\ntranslated backward, word for word, certain connective particles\nbecoming relative pronouns, with a perfect idiomatic English sentence\nas the result. The eye can soon be trained to take in a printed\nsentence as a whole, and grasp its meaning, without stopping to render\nit into English in the reversed order. But to keep this order in mind,\nin conversation, with the word expressing action left for the last,\nlike the snapper to a whip, is not so easy. In acquiring the language\nby ear a difficulty arises from the universal habit of _kun_-chewing.\nNever careful about enunciating his words, a wad of _kun_ in a\nBurman's cheek adds to the confusion of sounds. With mouth half full\nof saliva, chin protruding to keep it from slopping over,--a mumbled\njargon is what the ear must be trained to interpret as human speech.\n\nBy this time the newcomer has seen enough of the climate, and of\nthe side of society in which he will move, to convince him that his\nPrince Albert coat, in which he has been accustomed to array himself\n\"every day in the week, and twice on Sunday\" must be folded away in\nhis trunk until such a time as he takes a furlough in the home-land. A\nfellow-missionary consoles him with the remark that he once wore back\nto America the same coat that he wore to Burma eight years before.\nMissionaries usually arrive in November, the beginning of the \"cold\nseason.\" After that comes the \"hot season,\"--but it is difficult to\ntell just where the one leaves off and the other begins.\n\nIn any event, the newcomer soon \"warms to his work.\" First the\nwaistcoat is discarded, then the long thick coat gives place to a\nshort thin one. For underwear, gauze flannel and singlets are in\ndemand. Starched shirts and linen collars are reserved for special\noccasions. High-top shoes are relegated to the corner-closet. Even\nhis watch hangs as an uncomfortable weight in his light clothing.\nIn the old life he hardly perspired once in the year. Now there is\nhardly once in the year when he is not perspiring. The drinking-water\nis so warm that it seems to have lost much of its wetness. What would\nhe not give to feel cool again. But he has not long to wait for his\nwish to be more than realized. Some night, after fanning himself into\na restless sleep, he will wake up in a chill, to find himself in the\nthroes of the Burma fever, to which he was \"not subject.\" Then he\nwill recall the lightly-regarded advice, repeatedly violated in every\nparticular, and now---- As this is the first attack he will get his\nwife to treat him the first day with the homeopathic remedies in his\nmorocco medicine case,--his last misguided purchase before sailing.\n\nThere is nothing better to perpetuate a fever. On the second day,\nhaving recalled some more advice, his head will be buzzing with\nquinine, the only thing that will really help him,--as every man in\nthe tropics knows.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nLIVING LIKE THE NATIVES\n\n\nMuch has been said and written about \"living like the natives.\"\n\nMany have maintained that the missionaries should abandon their former\nmode of living, and adopt the customs and costume of the people among\nwhom they labour. It is said that old maids know the most about the\nproper way to bring up children. It is interesting to note that\nadvocates of this theory of missionary methods are men who never have\nbeen out of their native land, and have spent but little of their\ntime in informing themselves as to the habits of uncivilized peoples.\nProspective missionaries will do well to provide themselves with the\ncustomary outfit,--to meet their needs while finding an answer to the\nmany-sided question,--how _do_ the natives live?\n\nFor the present we will confine our investigations to Burma. Let us\nvisit one of the native houses, and see for ourselves. Running the\ngauntlet of several snarling pariah dogs, we pass through the muddy\ndoor-yard, littered with banana leaves, munched sugar-cane, and\nwaste from various sources. The house is set up on posts, several\nfeet from the ground, affording a shady place below, to be shared by\nthe family and the domestic animals. The floor overhead is of split\nbamboo or thin boards, with wide cracks through which all sweepings\nfall, and _kun_-chewers lazily spit without troubling themselves to\nget up. At the back part of the house a corner is partitioned off\nfor the cook-room, the stove being a very shallow box filled with\nearth. The cooking is done in earthen chatties over the smoky open\nfires. Near the cook-room is an open space where household utensils\nare washed and the babies bathed, the water falling through the open\nfloor to the ground below. Month after month and year after year this\nfilthy habit goes on, forming a cesspool from which a foul stench\narises, offensive to nostrils and dangerous to health. This foul\npool is a paradise for their ducks, its slime being tracked all over\nthe place. The house is small, its thatched roof coming down so low\nas hardly to leave room for a full-sized door. Many of these homes\nhave no out-buildings whatever, trusting to the pariah dogs and the\ncrows,--the village scavengers,--to keep the premises in a sanitary\ncondition. Some of the well-to-do Burmans live in larger better\nhouses; showing that not only is it impracticable for Europeans to\nlive like the natives, but that natives when able, find it wise to\nlive like Europeans. This is a tropical climate, with the temperature\nat 112\u00b0 in the shade on the day these words were written. It would be\nalmost suicidal for Europeans to attempt to live in such houses, even\nunder the best sanitary conditions possible. Missionaries have lived\nfor a time in such houses, from force of circumstances, but always to\nthe detriment of health, sometimes with very serious consequences.\nTo a stranger, European \"bungalows\" in the tropics seem needlessly\nlarge. \"Globe-trotters\" in general, and sometimes representatives of\nmissionary societies, it is to be feared, visiting the tropics in the\ncoolest season,--carry away this impression with them. In New England\nthere is a saying \"You must summer him and winter him\" to find out\nthe real worth of a man or beast. Could all who visit the tropics,\nor presume to write of conditions in the tropics,--spend a whole\nyear in such a climate critics would be few, and funds for seemingly\nexpensive, though necessary buildings less grudgingly given.\n\nThey who urge that Europeans should _clothe_ like the natives would\nsurely allow exceptions to the rule, on closer study of native habits.\n\nAmong some of the tribes of Burma the question of wardrobe and latest\nstyle would be easily solved. Clothing like such natives would greatly\nreduce the expense for \"outfit.\" Two strips of cotton cloth, one for\nthe head, the other for the loins, would meet all requirements even\non state occasions. But apart from all questions of common decency, it\nis to be seriously doubted whether the European would enjoy \"sailing\nunder bare poles\" in a tropical sun.\n\nThe railway trains are provided with first, second, and third-class\ncompartments. Officials and wealthy business men travel first-class.\nLess fortunate Europeans, and people of mixed race but with European\nhabits travel second-class. Natives, as a rule, go third-class,--but\nthe rule has many exceptions. Not to speak of well-to-do Burmans\nand Chinese, who, though unobjectionable in dress,--are inveterate\nsmokers, the \"chetties,\" or money-lenders invariably travel\nsecond-class. They are the wealthiest men in the county, but with\nthe exception of coolies,--they wear the least clothing and are the\nmost offensive in their habits. The missionaries, whether on private\nor mission business, being unable to bear the expense of the higher\nclass, and striving to save for the society which they represent,\ntravel second-class. Now that many very objectionable natives have\ntaken to riding second-class, it is no longer respectable for\nEuropeans, except on rare occasions when the train is not crowded.\nFor my own part, I seriously doubt whether this habit, on the part of\nAmerican missionaries, of taking an inferior place among so-called\n\"Europeans,\" is a wise policy.\n\n[Illustration: RAW MATERIAL (KACHINS)]\n\n[Illustration: KACHINS SACRIFICING TO DEMONS]\n\nBut whether wise or otherwise, lack of funds has made it necessary.\n\nFar from adopting the impossible costume of Chins, Kachins, Salongs\nand other benighted races, the missionaries are earnestly striving\nto develop in the natives sufficient moral sense that they may come\nto regard the matter of being clothed at all, as something more than\na minor consideration. It is true that Burmans, Shans, and Christian\nKarens dress more respectably. In fact, their costume, at its best,\nseems to be very well adapted to the climate and their manner of life.\nBut even this somewhat generous concession must be modified.\n\nThe customary skirt for Burmese women in Upper Burma, and more or\nless throughout the country, is a piece of coloured cloth about a\nyard square, fastened around the waist to open in front. This style\nof skirt is said to have been adopted by a decree of the Burman King.\nMultitudes of Burmese women seem to have no disposition to abandon it\nfor something more modest, even after eighteen years of British rule.\nElderly women, as well as men of all ages, wear nothing above the\nwaist while about their work, even passing through the streets in that\ncondition with no self-consciousness. The Burmese skirt made after the\nmost approved pattern is only one thickness of cloth, tightly fitting\nthe body, not such a dress as European ladies would care to wear.\nMrs. Judson, ministering to her imprisoned husband, felt compelled\nto adopt the native costume, to make her position more secure. But\nsupposing the missionaries adopt the costume of the corresponding\nclass,--the priests and nuns,--they must go with bare feet and shaven\nheads; all very well for the natives, but nothing short of ridiculous,\nas well as extremely dangerous under a tropical sun, if practiced by\nwhite people. In the interior of China the costume of the people has\nbeen found very suitable for the missionaries, and a help to winning\ntheir way. But wherever the people have become familiar with European\ncustoms, respect is forfeited, rather than gained by exchanging\nEuropean customs for those of the natives.\n\nA missionary and his wife recently returned from Africa were invited\nto speak in a certain church dressed in the native costume. They\nappeared, but in their usual attire. In the course of his remarks the\nmissionary referred to the request that they appear in native costume,\nand drawing a piece of cotton cloth from his pocket remarked \"_That_\nis the costume,--you will excuse us?\"\n\nEating like the natives,--here comes the tug-of-war. The \"backward\ntribes,\"--Chins, Kachins, Salongs, many tribes of Karens, and\nothers, eat everything,--from the white ant to the white-eyed\nmonkey. Worms, beetles, maggots, lizards, snakes, and many other\nsuch delicious morsels would form a part of one's daily diet,--a\nnecessary part, unless the missionary has supplied himself with\ntinned provisions,--in which case he would not be living like the\nnatives. But we will suppose that the missionary's lot has \"fallen\nin pleasant places\"--among the more civilized Burmans of the plains.\nRice will be the centre and substance of the two daily meals. Rice,\nwell-cooked,--the natives can do that to perfection,--is an excellent\nfood, and finds a conspicuous place on the bill of fare at every\nEuropean table. But rice is made palatable by the savoury \"curry\"\nserved with it. In jungle-villages, and among poor people in the town\nthis curry will be made of vegetables (not such vegetables as we have\nknown in the home-land), and tender sprouts and leaves, seasoned\nwith chillies. Devout Buddhists will not take animal life, hence\nmeat-curries, if far from the market, may not be thought of.\n\nIf the missionary has undertaken to live among the natives and like\nthe natives, he must learn to do without meat. They will not kill a\nfowl for him. If he kills one for himself, he has broken his contract.\nBut, perchance, an animal may die of itself, then its carcass will be\nparcelled out to all the villagers, and the missionary will have his\nshare. In the town he may fare better, without breaking his rule. Meat\nslaughtered by non-Buddhists is on sale in the Bazar every day.\n\nBuddhists as well as others may buy and eat, for the sin is only in\nthe killing, in which they had no part. It is nothing to them that the\ndemand occasions the supply. So what time the missionary spends in\ntown he may have his meat.\n\nIn spite of the commandment, \"thou shalt not take the life of any\nliving thing,\" undoubtedly the most important Thou shalt not--in\nthe Buddhist creed, with the penalty of the lowest hell for its\nviolation,--there is no lack of fishermen. Theoretically, they are\nthe lowest of the low. But if all fishermen were to die to-day--their\nplaces would be filled to-morrow, and the market still be supplied.\nThe natives want fish seven days in the week, if they can get it.\nBut not even a fresh-meat or fresh fish-curry is satisfactory to the\nnative palate until flavoured with dried fish, or with \"nga-pee.\" In\nthe Bazar may be found smoked and dried fish in great variety, very\ntempting to the native, but betraying the fact that too many hours\nunder a tropical sun were allowed before curing. This fish is often\neaten raw, in blissful ignorance of the microbe theory,--indifference\nwould be the better word, for their \"microbes\" frequently are visible\nto the naked eye. If these organisms have not actually eaten part of\nthe fish, they are considered so much clear gain to the consumer.\nSuch food is largely responsible for the great demand for a strong\nvermifuge in the treatment of sickness.\n\nNow we come to \"nga-pee\" proper, regarded by the Burmans and several\nother races, as essential to a well-flavoured meal.\n\n\"The smell of nga-pee is certainly not charming to an uneducated\nnose,\"--said a writer on Burmese customs,--a statement that has passed\nunchallenged. There are many varieties of nga-pee, but to all the\nremark quoted may be applied. The most common is called fish-paste or\n\"Burmese butter,\" made from the smaller fish which are caught in large\nquantities, as smelts are in the home-land. The fish are spread on\nmats under a tropical sun, just as they come from the water, and left\nthere until in a condition which an \"uneducated nose\" would not care\nto investigate.\n\nThey are then mashed to a paste,--a very easy matter,--salt is\nworked into the mass, and then it is packed away to drain. The oily\njuice is carefully saved in earthern jars, a highly prized liquid\nflavouring. When well drained the nga-pee is taken to market in sacks\nor in bulk, the indescribable odour always going a mile in advance,\nwhen the wind is right. Passengers by river-steamers sometimes find\nthemselves sandwiched in between two cargo-boats loaded with nga-pee,\nfairly sizzling under a broiling sun. Passenger trains halting at\nstations sometimes stand over against a few carloads of nga-pee on\nthe side-track, filling the passenger-compartments with an odour rank\nand unbearable. And yet this vile stuff is eagerly devoured by all\nraces, and must be allowed a place in the missionary's meal, if he is\nto \"live like the natives.\" Nga-pee furnishes only one, though a very\nself-assertive one of the many offensive smells of an Oriental Bazar.\nMany fastidious people never go to the Bazar, for fear of contracting\nsome kind of disease. There is much in the condition of these places\nto furnish ground for such fears. And yet I never have heard of\ndisease being so taken. It would seem that one odour counteracts\nanother, completely foiling all evil intentions of the spirit of\nsickness.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nCUSTOMS OF THE BURMESE\n\n\nThe Burman is the proudest mortal on earth. Indeed, he is not of\nearth, according to his own belief, but has descended from fallen\nangels. Many ages ago certain Brahmas came down from the celestial\nregions to dwell on the earth. By adapting themselves to the habits of\nordinary human beings, they themselves gradually became human. From\nthese Brahmas or fallen angels, the whole Burman nation descended.\n\nThe Burman recognizes no superior. The superior advantages of a\ntraining in the Western world counts for nothing, because the Burman\ncannot appreciate such advantages. At one time when in conversation\nwith a Burman official recognized as one of the ablest Burmans in the\ncountry, I dilated upon the extent, power, wealth, and resources of\nthe United States, in answer to his many questions about my country.\n\nWishing to impress him, I made the figures as large as conscience\nwould allow. At last he summed it all up in the self-satisfied\nexpression--\"About as big as Burma, isn't it?\" A difference of about\n70,000,000 in population was not comprehended. He could conceive of\nnothing bigger or more important than Burma. The Burman kings posed\nas the Head of Religion. The king was more than human. His subjects\nwere his slaves, with no legal right to anything which he might crave\nfor himself. He could compel them to perform any labour he saw fit\nto impose. His titles indicate his high estimate of himself: \"His\nglorious and excellent Majesty, Lord of Elephants, Lord of gold,\nsilver, rubies, amber, and the noble serpentine, Sovereign of the\nEmpires of Thunapurtanta and Jambudipa, and other great Empires and\ncountries, and of all the Umbrella-bearing chiefs, The supporter\nof Religion, Descendant of the Sun, Arbiter of Life, King of\nRighteousness, King of Kings, and Possessor of boundless dominion and\nsupreme wisdom.\" That is all. It was well to be somewhat modest, as an\nexample to the people.\n\nThe king was \"Lord of the White Elephant,\" for short. That in itself\nought to have satisfied a man of ordinary ambition, inasmuch as the\nwhite elephant was a sacred animal, and had the \"power of making\nits possessor invincible.\" \"The white umbrella was the emblem of\nsovereignty in Burma, and its use was limited to the king and the\nimages of Gautama.\" The Buddhist priest must be content with a\nmore modest title than \"Pongyi,\" the name by which they are now\nknown,--for pongyi means \"Great Glory,\" and could be applied only\nto the king. But when the king fell into the hands of the English\nthe title \"Great Glory\" went broadcast--to minister to the vanity of\nthe thousands of priests and to be retained by them as a monopoly.\nBurman officials to this day are equally proud of their titles, from\nthe highest in the land down to the Ywa-Thugyi, the village headman.\nTo address any official by name instead of his title, would be a\ngross breach of etiquette. In the king's time official etiquette\nwas scrupulously observed, even towards prisoners of the official\nclass. Royal blood must never be shed, even in executions. A blow\nfrom a bludgeon on the back of the neck of the stooping victim,--or\nin the case of females, a blow on the front of the neck settled the\naccount. Nor might royal victims be buried. The body, enshrouded in\na red velvet sack, was taken in a boat to the middle of the river,\nand thrown in. It is said that this was sometimes done without the\nformality of an execution, a few stones in the sack answering the\nsame purpose. Crucifixion was also common. It is claimed that in many\ninstances the victim was first put to death and then the mutilated\nbody bound to the bamboo cross and exhibited as a fearful warning\nto evil-doers. Dread of being crucified led thousands to migrate\nto British territory after the annexation of Pegu. The ugly terms\n\"imprisonment,\" and \"execution\" were never used at the court of the\nking. There was a \"keeping by\" and a \"clearing away,\" to suit the\ncaprice of the king, scores and hundreds being massacred at once, on\nthe merest suspicion of conspiracy. \"Uneasy lies the head that wears\na crown,\" was true of Burman kings, and they had a way of making all\nothers of royal blood equally uneasy.\n\n[Illustration: POUNDING RICE]\n\nOne of the causes leading to the last Burmese-English war, was the\nfamous \"Shoe question.\" According to the Burmese custom, sandals must\nbe removed outside the entrance, whether of private residence or royal\npalace. When a subject of however exalted rank was admitted to the\npresence of the king, he must come in his bare feet, and approach in a\ncrouching position so that his skirt would prevent his feet being seen\nby the fastidious eyes of the king. Heads have been lost for violation\nof less important rules of etiquette. Representatives of the British\nGovernment were compelled to follow this humiliating custom,--though\nthey were graciously allowed to keep their stockings on,--and to sit\non the floor at a respectful distance from His Majesty, Lord of the\nWhite Elephant, etc., etc. The Briton thought this inconsistent with\nproper respect for the government he represented, to say nothing of\nhis own personal feelings. Diplomatic negotiations were delayed, for\nthe haughty king would allow no deviation from this humiliating\ncustom. Although the war was not declared on this issue, English\nofficials who had been required to remove their shoes, found great\nsatisfaction in requiring the king to remove his crown. The custom\nof taking off one's sandals when entering any house still prevails.\nEntering with sandals on could only be interpreted as a deliberate\ninsult. When a European enters a monastery he is expected to take off\nhis shoes, though the priest does not insist upon it--when informed\nthat it is not European custom.\n\nIf twenty men come to see the missionary, the last man must step over\nnineteen pairs of sandals at the foot of the stairs. But when it comes\nto head-gear, the custom is reversed. While Europeans would take\noff their hats, the Burmans do not remove their _gaung-baungs_, or\nturbans. The _gaung-baung_ is usually of gaudy silk, and worn at all\ntimes, even at worship, by both Buddhist and Christian.\n\nWhen Saul had been informally proclaimed King of Israel, the people\n\"despised him, and brought him no present.\" This would not have\nhappened in Burma, as the attitude of men from whom presents would\nnaturally be expected,--unless perchance they had ceased to value that\nportion of their bodies above the shoulders. Whether king, subordinate\nofficial, or private citizen, a present suited to the weight of the\nmatter in hand was an essential preliminary to a hearing. Under\nBritish rule, Burman officials do not openly perpetuate this custom.\nThey now content themselves with bribes quietly presented, usually\nthrough a third party, in place of the present once openly offered.\nBut in social life the custom of making presents is a recognized\nmatter of etiquette, even when visiting non-official superiors. It\ncommonly takes the form of a tray of the choicest fruit procurable.\nBut in the majority of instances it finally appears that some favour\nor other is being sought.\n\nPoor people sometimes come with a bunch of plantains or a few oranges\nwhich they beg us graciously to accept as a token of their great\nesteem, and then hang around the place waiting for a return present of\nten times the value of their own. The European soon becomes suspicious\nof presents as likely to prove more expensive than the regular Bazar\nrate.\n\nA missionary to the Indians in British Columbia relates a story which,\nso far as motive is concerned, might have been matched in Burma. One\nday an Indian gave them two fat ducks. \"What shall I pay for them?\"\n\"Oh, nothing, they are a present for the missionary.\" The Indian hung\naround, remained to dinner, ate one of the ducks, remained through\nthe afternoon, ate the equivalent of the other duck, remained until\nbedtime, when the missionary hinted that perhaps he had better go\nhome to see if his wigwam was where he left it. \"I'm only waiting.\"\n\"Waiting for what?\" \"Waiting for the present you are to give me for\nthe present I gave you.\"\n\nA peculiar custom that always impresses the newcomer, is that of doing\nobeisance, called \"shikkoing.\" When the devout worshipper counts the\nbeads on his rosary he repeats the formula with each bead \"Lord, Law,\nPriest--the three precious things\" or objects of his worship.\n\nAs a counterpart of this formula he goes through three prostrations,\nwith palms together, bowing his face to the ground in honour of the\nthree precious things of his creed. These prostrations are also gone\nthrough at confessional before the priest,--one of the \"precious\nthings\" before mentioned. He does not enumerate his sins, but lumps\nthem, declaring that for all the sins he has committed he prostrates\nhimself three times, in honour of the three precious things, and hopes\nthereby to be freed from all punishments and calamities. In respect to\nboth spirit and method this custom reminds one of a certain man who\nused to hang his clumsily written prayer to the bedpost, saying as he\ncrawled into bed, \"Lord, them's my sentiments.\" After his lump-sum\nconfession he receives the priest's benediction, which is practically\nthe same as absolution, and goes away, the self-complacent pharisee\nthat he is.\n\nWhat astonishes and shocks the missionary is to find a heathen Burman\nat his feet going through this seeming act of worship. He feels as\nhorrified as did Paul and Barnabas at Lystra. But he afterwards\nlearns when he comes to understand the Burman better,--that these\nprostrations before superiors are not intended as acts of real\nworship. He is merely showing his humble respect, as a preliminary to\nsome appeal for favour.\n\nEnglish officials require from non-Christian natives the same tokens\nof respect that were in vogue prior to the annexation. Native\nChristians are exempt from all customs which savour of Buddhism.\n\nThe idol and the priest alike represent Gautama, the only god the\nBuddhist knows. The attitude of the Burman mind may be illustrated\nby what a Burman Christian boy told me of his experience when he\nvisited his native village. In response to an invitation he went to\nsee the old priest, who had known him as a child. The priest was held\nin honour both by virtue of office, and his advanced age. The young\nChristian went through the customary prostrations respectfully, and\nthen said, \"I do not shikko you as God, but because I do not know of\nany other way to show my respect.\" The heathen Burman is in the same\ndifficulty when he appears in the presence of a foreigner whom he\nwishes to honour.\n\nThis Oriental mode of showing reverence, not necessarily worship,\nthrows light on the word \"worship,\" so often used by Matthew.\n\nThe Burman is a religious animal, both terms emphasized. He has\nmany religious festivals, and every festival is a feast. The\ncasual observer would see but little difference between the street\nprocessions of weddings and funerals. There are the same tom-toms,\nthe same grotesque dancing, the same stuffing of insatiable stomachs.\nAmong Chins and Kachins such occasions are scenes of drunkenness\nand disorder. Not so among the Burmans. Many have contracted the\ndrink habit by contact with Europeans, but the use of intoxicants\nhas not yet become a national vice. The Burman attends all feasts\nand festivals because it is unchangeable custom to do so; because\neverybody else will be there, and he enjoys being in a crowd; because\nit gives him an excuse for abstaining from work, which he does not\nenjoy; because he can array himself in his best silk skirt and\ngaung-baung, and will find all the ladies there similarly arrayed; and\nmost of all because whatever the occasion, it will be a feast. During\nthe rainy season, which coincides with \"Buddhist Lent\" no feasts or\nfestivals are held.\n\nFunerals cannot always be postponed, especially as there is much\nsickness in the rainy season, but weddings are prohibited. Courting\nmay be indulged in on the sly, to shorten the process when Lent is\nover.\n\nAt the beginning of Lent there is a great festival, entered into with\nenthusiasm because it will be the last for several months. At the end\nof Lent there is another great festival, hilariously enjoyed because\nthe dull rainy Lenton period with its round of Duty-days without the\ncraved accompaniments is over at last. Even the priests enjoy it, for\npresents to the monasteries, which had fallen off during Lent, will\nnow be renewed. The young are again free to pair. The whole town is\nilluminated. Fire-balloons are sent up, with reckless disregard to\nsafety of their houses. All are bent on having a good time. It is a\nreligious festival, to be sure, each separate observance being in\nhonour of some _nat_ or divinity--but there will be time enough to\nmeditate on all that afterwards. For the present it is a round of\npicnic enjoyment.\n\nThe Burman era began in 639 A. D. The New Year begins in\nApril.\n\nThe month is reckoned from midway between two full moons. Any Burman\ncan readily give you the date, according to the Burman system, but\nvery few have mastered the European calendar. The date is given as\nso many days before or after the full of the moon. The New Year is\nalways celebrated by the \"Water-feast.\" Offerings of pots of water\nare taken to the monasteries, the images of Gautama given their\nannual washing down, and then the show begins. Boisterous young men\narm themselves with buckets or chatties of water, frolicsome damsels\nwith cups, and the boys with bamboo squirt-guns, each and all bent on\ndouching everybody else. By some means or other everybody gets his\nshare. He would feel slighted if he did not receive a due share of\nliquid attention. The use of water at the beginning of the year has\na religious significance,--but let the priest and the pious attend\nto that. The young folks are in for a jolly good time, and they get\nit. At the beginning of November there is another feast in honour of\nthe time when Gautama Buddha made a visit to the celestial regions\nto preach to his mother. Then on the full moon of November another\nfeast in honour of the time when Gautama became a Buddha under the\nbawdee-tree. Lesser feasts occur at intervals until Lent begins\nagain. What with all the religious feasts, the weddings, ear-borings,\nfunerals, etc., etc., the Burman suffers no lack of enjoyment. He\nmanages to get some fun out of everything, the funeral being no\nexception. He will dance and sing on the way to the cemetery, and race\nbullock-carts on the way home. The funeral of a priest often resolves\nitself into a tug of war. Two stout ropes are attached to each end\nof the four-wheeled cart on which the casket has been placed. The\ncrowd divides itself into two parties, the ropes are seized, and\nthe struggle begins. Up the street the cart is dragged with a great\nhurrah, until reinforcements strengthen the opposing party, then the\ncart takes a lurch in the other direction, its lofty spire swaying\nin a threatening manner. Back and forth goes the cart, the exciting\ncontest sometimes lasting for hours. Merit is gained by drawing the\npongyis' remains to the funeral pyre. Of course the pyre-ward side\nmust ultimately win, or there would be no cremation.\n\n[Illustration: DANCING GIRLS]\n\nThe rope-pull is sometimes resorted to in much the same manner to\nbreak a prolonged drought. Whether successful or not, as rain-makers,\nthey have the sport. Is the Burman lazy? He certainly has that\nreputation, and I never heard it disputed by employers of Burman\nlabour. His services would be better appreciated were he as punctual\nat the beginning of the day as he is at its close, and as diligent\nin the use of his tools as he is in keeping his cheroot lighted. He\nmust have some credit for hard work to leave so many things undone.\nAt \"turning off work\" he has no superior. He invariably turns off\nall the work he can,--and does the rest. And yet when one reflects\nthat outside of the delta nearly all of the hard work of cultivation\nin the plains is done by Burmans one feels compelled to reconsider\nhis verdict as to the Burman's capacity for work. No man can tell\nby a Burman's clothing whether he is rich or poor. All that a man\nhath will he give for a silk skirt. In \"the good old times\" when the\nking's will was law subordinate officials made demands for money\nwherever appearances indicated that money existed, to make up the\namount of revenue called for. It was then good policy to dress below\none's ability rather than above it, or one might find himself in an\nembarrassing situation. Moreover, certain material, style of cut,\netc., was reserved for royal blood. But when the king fell, and the\nBurman found that the conqueror's method of raising revenue was by\nequitable taxation, royal customs went to the winds. Young men and\nmaidens, and even the middle-aged blossomed out in gaudy array on\nfestive occasions, though there might not be a pice of loose change\nto back it. Of all the races of Burma the Burmese are the cleanliest\nand dressiest. The costume of nearly all races, at its best, is fairly\nrespectable and suited to their manner of life,--if they would only\nkeep it clean and keep it on. When one is about to die the friends\nsay, \"Think not of friends or of property,--think only of God.\" This\nsounds hopeful, but it is well known that these spiritual advisers\nhave in mind only the brazen image of Gautama, found in every village,\nthe only god they know.\n\nWhen a death occurs the pongyis are invited to the house, not to\nconsole the living, but to perform certain rites on behalf of the dead.\n\nFirst a priest repeats a formula something like this, \"He worships\nGod; he worships the law; he worships the clergy,\" friends assuming\nthe attitude of worship as substitutes for the deceased. The priest\ncontinues--\"He kills not, steals not, commits no offense against\nhis neighbour's wife; lies not; drinks not. He has all his life\nbeen careful about these things.\" The formula ended, one of the\nfriends drops water from a gurglet or cocoanut shell into a glass, to\naccompany another formula by the priest, \"May the deceased enjoy the\nfood of the _nats_. May the nat of the earth bear witness.\" The person\nwho pours out the water drawls in a loud voice, \"Ah-mya-myo\"--in great\nabundance and variety, the people responding, \"Thah-doo, thah-doo\"--it\nis well, it is well. At the grave, or in a _zayat_ nearly the same\nceremonies are repeated. The priests have already been feasted at the\nhouse, and now presents are given on behalf of the dead, that he may\nenjoy the same blessings in the abode of the nats. The priests do not\nusually accompany the procession, but go in advance to the zayats\nnear the cemetery. At death a small coin is placed in the dead man's\nmouth to pay his ferry fare across the mystic river of death. Without\nthe coin for the ferry he could not cross, but would have to return\nto this world to suffer--nobody knows what. The use of the coin is\nsaid to be dying out. The coffin is swung endwise over the grave seven\ntimes (sometimes docked to three) as a good-bye, and to give the\ndeceased a good start towards the great Myin-Mo Mount, the abode of\nthe nats.\n\nHuman nature is much the same the world over. Courtship and marriage\nare universal customs. Methods differ, but motives are the same.\n\nThe majority of marriages are for love, or for something that has\nbeen mistaken for that sentiment. When a Burmese young man and maiden\nfancy each other well enough to indulge in playful flirtations at\npagoda feasts and other public occasions it is pretty sure to develop\ninto something more serious. The young lady is not likely to let\na good chance slip by. Old-maidhood is dreaded by all, except the\ncomparatively few who become nuns, and many of them are said to have\nbecome nuns because disappointed in love. Lover-like attentions may\nnot be given openly. Clandestine meetings would scandalize the whole\ncommunity.\n\nAt about nine o'clock in the evening the young man, accompanied by\nhis friends approaches the house of the maiden whose charms cause his\nheart to thump against his ribs. He finds her awaiting his coming.\nBut they are not to enjoy a fond t\u00eate-\u00e0-t\u00eate by themselves. Several\nyoung lady friends are sitting on the open veranda with her,--and the\nold lady peeking through a chink in the bamboo wall. It is courtship\nunder difficulties, but it means business just the same. The rules of\npropriety have been observed, the parents are satisfied. As for the\nrest, trust the young folks to find ways and means to enjoy themselves\nas lovers do the world over. Accepting presents of jewelry from a\nyoung man is generally recognized as an engagement. Many a maiden has\nallowed her fondness for jewelry to lead to complications from which\nshe has difficulty in extricating herself. According to old Burmese\nlaw the sole right to select or reject suitors was vested in the\nparents. The daughter, until twenty years of age, was entirely under\ntheir control.\n\nThe Dhammathat says: \"Amongst men there are only three ways of\nbecoming man and wife, which are as follows: First, a man and woman\ngiven in marriage by their parents, who live and eat together. Second,\na man and wife brought together by the intervention of a go-between,\nwho live and eat together. Third, a man and woman who came together by\nmutual consent, who live and eat together.\" In question of property\nrights the most importance is attached to the first method. A marriage\nwithout the consent of the parents, if the girl is under twenty, may\nbe cancelled by the parents, if action is promptly taken. The girl\nmay reject the man to whom she has been betrothed by her parents,\nbut her decision is recognized only after she has run away from him\nand been forcibly restored three times. In like manner a girl who has\nbeen taken in marriage without the consent of her parents must be\nrestored to them three times. If she then returns again to her husband\nthe parents' claim upon her is forfeited, because the \"Owner of the\ndaughter could not control her.\" Widows and divorced women are subject\nto no control. While all this is Buddhist law, the girl, as a matter\nof fact, does about as she pleases in the matter of accepting or\nrejecting, just as they do in other lands, whether she is under twenty\nor not. Neither Buddhist law nor established custom renders any kind\nof a marriage ceremony essential, nor is registration of the marriage\nnecessary. \"Living and eating together,\" constitute all desired\nevidence of marriage.\n\nThe first eating together is something done in the presence of\nwitnesses and so becomes in itself a simple wedding ceremony. This\nhappy-go-lucky custom makes it exceedingly difficult to settle any\nquestions in law growing out of such a marriage. A couple may prove\nthat they are, or are not husband and wife, as best suits their ends.\nIn Christian lands the wife is sometimes taken home to live with her\nmother-in-law.\n\nIn Burma the situation is reversed, the young husband going to live\nwith his wife's parents. By a generally accepted division of labour\nthe wife is the burden-bearer, while the husband gets the glory for\nwhat is accomplished. Husband and wife are going into town to exchange\na basket of rice for a supply of putrid fish and other necessaries of\nlife.\n\nThe wife carries the basket, weighing seventy-five or one hundred\npounds, on her head, the husband with only his _kun_-bag slung over\nhis shoulder walking ahead at a gait which she finds it difficult to\nfollow.\n\nThe load may now and then be rested on a convenient stump, or the\nconsiderate husband helps to lower it to the ground and raise it to\nher head again. So accustomed have they become to this arrangement\nthat it never occurs to either party that the man might carry the load\npart of the time. Familiar as is this custom, it never fails to stir\nin my soul an indignant protest. But the \"worm may turn,\" if pressed\ntoo hard.\n\nA poor woman was going to the station to take a train. On her head\nwas a heavy load, and on her hip a child. Tears were trickling down\nher cheeks. The husband, carrying nothing but his umbrella, was\npersistently tormenting her. At last she deposited load and child on\nthe ground none too gently, and pitched into him with great fury,\ncuffing, scratching and screaming all at once, until he gave her a\nwide berth.\n\nIt was one of the most refreshing sights ever witnessed, in this\nland. According to Buddhism the male is far superior to the female.\nNo woman can cherish the slightest hope of attaining to Naik-ban. Her\nhighest hope and prayer is that in the next, or some future existence\nshe may be born as man, and so take a fresh start. But in this life\nthe Burmese woman holds a higher place than is enjoyed by her sisters\nin any other Oriental land. If divorced from her husband she can\ntake away whatever property she brought when married, together with\nall she may have gained by her own exertions. She is by no means a\nsilent partner in business affairs. Usually she has greater business\nacuteness than her husband, and does not hesitate to have a voice in\nall negotiations. The Bazar is almost wholly run by the women, each\nhaving her own stall and keeping her own accounts in her head, for she\ncannot read nor write. At this point women seem to be inferior, but\nit is because they were excluded from the monastic school, and never\nhad a chance. Vastly better than her indolent husband or brother she\nknows how to make money and keep what she makes. While Mohammedan and\nHindu women are shut up in harems and zenanas, the Burmese women walk\nthe streets with head erect, puffing their huge cheroots without the\nslightest thought of being the \"weaker vessel.\" The energy of the\nBurmese women saves the race from going to the wall.\n\n[Illustration: TATTOOING]\n\nFrom courtship and marriage we pass by a natural transition to\nchild-life in Burma. The crop of babies never fails. Parents would\nas soon think of failure of the rice harvest as of a failure to add\nannually to the population of the village, and the disappointment\nwould be about the same. If nature did not defeat the barbarous\nmethods of native midwives there would be no child-life to describe.\nBut in spite of methods that would soon depopulate more civilized\nlands, every town and village is just romping full of children. Boys\nrun naked until six or eight years of age, and girls until one or two.\nMany a time have I seen parents, wrapped in blankets, huddled around\na fire in the cool season while their infants and small children had\nnot the slightest protection. There is no intentional neglect, for\nthe parents love their children, but it is \"custom.\" This custom\nsupplements the ignorance of the midwives, and adds to the number of\nshallow little graves in the adjacent jungle for the parish dogs to\nfight over. But baby has its cradle for its frequent naps. This is\nmade of wood or wickerwork, and suspended from a bamboo in the floor\nor roof above. Sometimes this swinging cradle is a wide strip of cloth\ntied together at the ends, with the baby deposited in the loop. Baby\nhas not long been in the world before it has a name. The name depends\non the day of the week in which it was born. Certain letters of the\nalphabet are assigned to each day. The baby's name must begin with\none of the letters assigned to its birthday. There is no family name,\nnothing to indicate to what particular family a child belongs. Each\nday of the week represents some planet, from which it takes its name.\nThe planet assigned to a particular day will influence the life of a\nperson born on that day, and determine his temperament. The naming is\ndone when the baby is one month old. On the previous day invitations\nare sent around to the elders of the village, who by eating a pinch of\npickled tea from a cup sent by the messenger,--accepts the invitation\nto be present at the ceremony, the parents make ready a supply of\nfood, a feast being an essential part of every ceremony. Invited\nguests bring presents of money, precious stones, or jewels, which\nthey cast into a large jar of water set there for the purpose. Some\nof the more valuable presents are merely lent for the occasion, but\nthey help to make a show. When the guests have enjoyed their pickled\ntea, betel-nut, and cheroot, several of the elders proceed to bathe\nthe baby in the vessel containing the presents. Another repeats a\nbenediction calling for the continuous welfare of the child, but\nlimits it to one hundred and twenty years. From the centre of a circle\nof coins on a dish of rice a cord of cotton thread is taken and bound\naround the child's wrist. One of the elders now announces the child's\nname,--previously decided on by the parents,--as if it were the happy\nresult of his own meditations. This ceremony is to the Burman and\nShan what a christening is to many in other lands, in its relation\nto a child's future. An interesting naming ceremony was held by two\ncouples of native Christians, in my mission. The missionaries and\nnative Christians were invited to a prayer-meeting. After the meeting\na number of Old Testament names, written on slips of paper, were put\nin a hat borrowed from the missionary. The first fond father to put\nhis hand into the hat drew for his offspring the name Daniel,--which\nhe would pronounce Dan-ya-lah. The other father got Moses as a name\nfor his son. Dan-ya-lah and Maw-shay they are to this day.\n\nIt is interesting to watch little children at their play. With\nsun-dried marbles, large seeds, or peculiarly-shaped sticks, plays\nhave been improvised, which, in the course of years, have become\nnational games for the youngsters. Boys and girls enjoy the sport\ntogether.\n\nBefore the English annexed the country the monasteries were the only\nschools. This is still the case in the majority of villages. But every\nBuddhist boy, whether he has the advantage of the English schools or\nnot, must spend a few months in the monastery. Until he enters the\nmonastery as a probationer he is not considered a human being in such\na sense that it would count in future transmigrations. He now receives\na new name, to be used so long as he remains in the monastery. If he\nfinally becomes a priest he retains the religious name for life.\n\nThe novitiate-ceremony usually takes place when the boy is between\nten and twelve years of age. If not already familiar with life\nin the monastery, he is taught how to address the priests, and\nconduct himself generally. As this is the most important event in a\nBurman boy's life, the ceremony is made on as grand a scale as the\ncircumstances and credit of the boy's parents and friends will permit.\nDecked in gayest costume and covered with jewelry he is placed on a\npony, or, in the towns, in the best vehicle obtainable, protected from\nthe sun by a long-handled umbrella, and conducted to the homes of his\nrelatives, to bid them farewell. Flashily dressed men and women, boys\nand girls make up the procession, some of the young men dancing and\nsinging as they go. All this pomp and show, to celebrate renunciation\nof the world.\n\nThe farewells being said, the candidate is reconducted to his own\nhome, where the feast has been prepared, and an elaborate bamboo\ntabernacle erected, extending from the house to the opposite side\nof the street. Here, in the presence of the priests, friends, and a\nhost of gaudily-dressed spectators the actual ceremony is performed.\nThe candidate's finery gives way to a strip of white cloth fastened\naround his loins, forming a very brief skirt. Then the barber is\ncalled in to deprive him of his long hair and shave his head. After a\nbath he dresses and presents himself before the priests, goes through\nthe prescribed prostrations, repeats the memorized formula pledging\nhimself as a novitiate, is duly clothed in the yellow robe of the\norder, the _thabeit_ or begging-bowl is given him, and then he joins\nthe other novitiates in their return to the monastery in which he is\nto live. How sad it seems to see a small boy thus shut out from the\ngay world, at just the time when he is fullest of fun and frolic,--but\nnot half so sad as it seems.\n\nDevout Buddhists may compel their sons to remain in the monastery\nthree months, but to become a priest is not compulsory. In many\nplaces a week is the limit. Not infrequently a boy who has made the\nround of pathetic farewells, and gone through the whole ceremony of\npledging himself to the Assembly, is back home again before night,\nhaving met all actual demands, and exchanged his fine head of hair\nfor an interesting experience. And right glad he is to be back, for\nthe feast is still on, and he comes in for a share of the dainties.\nComparatively few give their lives to the priesthood. Some enter the\npriesthood later in life.\n\nThe longer the term--the greater the merit. The number of young men\nto remain in the monastery is steadily decreasing. The same is true of\nthe number of men who thoroughly understand Buddhism. The festivities\nhave not slackened, but with less and less religious significance in\nthe minds of participants. Having been in the monastery the boy has\nbecome a human being. But whether before or after this ceremony he\nmust receive the signs of manhood by being tattooed from his waist to\nhis knees. If this is not done the boys and girls will poke fun at\nhim and call him a woman. This tattooing may be done piece by piece,\nat intervals, to allow time for healing of the surface covered. The\nsessamum-oil lampblack used for ink, pricked into the skin on a large\nsurface causes a great deal of swelling, and sometimes fever. The\nprofessional tattooer has his figure-patterns from which the boy or\nhis parents may select.\n\nThe figures are usually animals, set off with an ornamental edging.\nFew boys have the nerve to endure the pricking very long. This is\novercome by a dose of opium, deadening the sense of feeling, and\ndazing the mind, though not to such an extent as to keep him from\npuffing his cheroot while the operation is going on. Besides this\ntattooing of imitation breeches, there are many kinds of charms, done\nin vermilion on the upper parts of the body and arms, as desired by\nthe superstitious.\n\nSchoolboys have charms to protect them against the pain of whipping,\nyoung men have charms to make them successful in their wooing.\nSoldiers and dacoits have charms to protect them from bullets and\n_dah_-thrusts, and everybody has charms to render harmless all snake\nand insect bites. Besides the tattooed charms, certain objects\nare inserted under the skin, or carried about, according to the\nsuperstition of the individual, and representing about as high a type\nof intelligence as does the horseshoe over many a door in civilized\nlands.\n\nThe custom of tattooing is said to have originated many centuries\nago, when the Burmans were subject to the Shan kings in Upper Burma.\nThe Shans, who were themselves tattooed,--branded with tattoo-marks\ncaptives taken in war, as evidence of their servility. Instead of\nregarding this as humiliating, the Burmans were proud of their\ntattooing, as marks of the king. Moreover, the despised Chins, wild\ntribes in the north-western hills, did not tattoo. A non-tattooed\nBurman might be mistaken for a Chin, which would be humiliating\nindeed. Tattooing became popular, the custom spread rapidly, and now a\nfull-grown Burman who is not the proud possessor of a pair of tattooed\nbreeches that will last him a lifetime, is seldom found. In the\njungle-villages nearly every boy is tattooed. In the towns the custom\nis rapidly dying out. Not five per cent. of Burman boys in the towns\nhave submitted to this custom. Town boys are much more afraid of being\ntaken for countrymen than of being made fun of for departing from the\ntime-honoured custom. In fact, the town boy is as anxious to have it\nknown that he is not tattooed as the unbreeched village boy would be\nto conceal it.\n\nThe fact that at the last census nine hundred and eighty six persons\nwere returned as professional tattooers indicates that their business\nis still thriving, notwithstanding the disaffection of the town dudes.\n\nThe desire to ape English customs may have something to do with this\nbacksliding. This is also noticeable in the habit, now popular among\ntown boys, especially in the schools, of cutting the hair short. Only\na few years ago a cropped head would have stamped one as a convict.\n\nGirls are not tattooed except possibly an invisible love-charm,--but\nthey furnish a companion-ceremony, when ear-boring time comes round.\n\nIt answers to the time when a girl in the home-land begins to think of\ngetting out of short dresses, to be a child no longer.\n\nWhen an ear-boring ceremony is announced everything else must take\nsecond place. The day and hour are fixed by the soothsayer, but he\nmanages to make his divinations harmonize with the plans of the\nparents who engaged his services. In spite of the frightened girl's\nscreams and struggles her ears are pierced with the gold or silver\nneedle of the professional ear-borer, the tom-toms and horns of the\nband outside doing their best to drown her cries. The holes are kept\nopen until they heal, and then they are gradually enlarged by wearing\nglass or metal tubes of increasing size, until finally a tube half\nan inch in diameter can be inserted. In the olden time the lobe of\nthe ear was stretched much more than is now the fashion. I have seen\nold women with holes in their ears through which two fingers could be\npassed. Such ear-lobes furnished handy holders for their big cheroots.\nThis stretching and elongating of the lobes of their ears formerly\nhad a religious significance that is now being forgotten. All images\nof Gautama represent him with ear-lobes touching the shoulders, as a\nsymbol of perfection.\n\nDevout women,--and some of the men,--did their best to imitate his\nexample. Ear jewelry may be inexpensive colored glass, or of gold\nelaborately designed and set with precious stones.\n\nOnce her ears are bored the girl puts an end to all street play with\nsmall-boy acquaintances, and poses as a young lady. Changes are\nobserved in the style of dressing her hair; in her costume; in the\nuse of cosmetics,--for every Burmese girl, though naturally brown,\ndesires to be white; in her bearing as she walks the street; in every\npose of her graceful body. She may not have so much freedom of action\nas she enjoyed before, but she knows it will not be long until some\nchoice young man will want her, to adorn his household.\n\nThe one universal custom, common to all, both men and women, boys and\ngirls alike, is the filthy habit of _kun_-chewing and smoking. The\n_kun_-chew is made up of part of a betel (areca) nut, chopped fine,\nand an astringent green leaf of a certain vine. A little lime-paste,\nusually coloured red, is spread on the leaf, then it is wadded up\nand jammed into the side of the mouth, with the betel nut. Saliva\nsoon accumulates. To expectorate would be to lose some of the small\npieces of the nut before the good had been extracted. Attempts at\nconversation are ridiculous and nauseating in the extreme. When the\nmouth can retain its load no longer its contents are discharged\nthrough a crack in the floor.\n\nThe white pony of a lady-missionary was once tethered under a native\nhouse for the night. What was the lady's disgust the next morning\nto find her beautiful pony all stained and bedaubed with vile red\n_kun_-juice. Smoking is begun before teething is finished. I myself\nhave seen a mother take a lighted cheroot from her own mouth, and put\nit in the mouth of a wee child in her arms. Burmese ladies consider\na cigar the finishing touch to their preparations for a dress-parade.\nBut the Burman cigar contains but a small proportion of real tobacco\nleaf, otherwise the smoke-habit would soon kill off the race. They\ncannot both chew and smoke at the same time, but the twin habits keep\nthem so busy that they accomplish little else. It is said that the\nBurman \"smokes between chews, and chews between smokes.\"\n\nIt is simply marvellous how far a Burman can smell a rupee, and what\nmethods he will employ to get it. Has the mission work to be done\nby carpenters, cartmen, etc., heathen Burmans are not wanting who\nwill regularly attend chapel services, and pose as devout inquirers\nso long as the job lasts. I have known fortune-tellers, teachers,\ncourt-clerks, and common rice-cultivators to become pretended\ndisciples with no other motive than to become preachers. They know\nthat the native evangelists have regular salaries, and that the\nmissionary takes a fatherly interest in their welfare, giving medicine\nwhen they are ill, advising when they are in difficulty. Though the\nsalary is not large, it secures a fairly comfortable living, which\nis more than many a heathen is sure of the year round. So the wily\nheathen comes to our people, pretending to be deeply interested in\nChristianity, applies himself to learn all he can, attends worship,\nand finally asks for baptism, with every appearance of sincerity. One\nyear we drew a prize, \"Saya Tike\" he was called. \"Saya\" because he had\ncharge of a small private school. He was past middle age, of uncommon\nintelligence, and fine bearing. A more earnest and devout inquirer,\nto all appearances, we never met. After some months of waiting he was\nbaptized and received into the church. Then began his tale of woe. In\nconsequence of his becoming a Christian his school had been broken\nup. Persecutors had broken into his house and stolen his clothing.\nFriendless, penniless, and out of a situation, he appealed to the\nmissionary for something to do. Being fairly handy as a carpenter he\nwas given such work on the mission buildings. After about two weeks\nhe suddenly disappeared. Some weeks passed before we could get any\nclue to his whereabouts. Then one day one of our preachers met him\nin a jungle-village wearing the yellow robe of a Buddhist priest.\nWhen asked why he had left the mission he complained that instead\nof being employed as a teacher he had only carpenter work to do. He\npreferred being a \"pongyi,\" and have his food given him. Some months\nlater he again turned up at the mission, professing repentance for\nhis backsliding, and asking to be received back again. Our faith in\nhim had been badly shaken, but we tried not to show it. If we would\nonly give him citizen's clothing in place of his yellow robe he\nwould gladly go to work again. Giving him the benefit of a doubt I\narranged with my right-hand man to give him a _longyi_, such as the\nother men were wearing. No, he did not like a longyi, but must have\nthe more stylish _puhso_. His taste not being gratified, back he went\nagain to his heathenism. We soon learned that all his pathetic stories\nof persecution had been trumped up for the occasion, to excite our\nsympathy, and secure a position.\n\nOne day a strange Burman came to the mission. He said that he was a\nChristian from a mission fifty miles away. On the train he had been\nrobbed of his clothing and the little money he had. All he wanted was\nto be kept over night, and money enough to pay his way home. The case\nwas referred to me. I placed the required sum in the hands of my man\n\"Friday\" with instructions to give it to the applicant should he prove\nworthy. The next morning my man came to report, and to give back the\nmoney. I said to him, \"Well, Ko Ngi, how did you find out that he was\na humbug?\" Replying in broken English, he said \"Last night we have\nmeeting (evening prayers). I think, you proper Christian, I make you\npray. He no know anything. He can't pray proper. Then I say--Your\nSaya (missionary) how many chillen? He say 'Four little boy, so much\nbig.' I know he Saya done got _five_ chillen,--one _so much girl_,\"\nindicating with hand a full grown young lady. So he had sent the man\naway without the hand of fellowship, and returned the money.\n\nAmong non-Christian Burmans sin, of whatever sort, is sin only when\ndiscovered. \"How could it be sin when nobody knew anything about it?\"\nDeceit is practiced without a pang of conscience so long as the game\ncan be worked.\n\nThe missionary is kind-hearted, supposed to have plenty of money, like\nother \"Europeans,\" and is considered legitimate prey.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nCHIEF RACES OF BURMA\n\n\nReliable history of Burma dates back only to the early part of the\neighteenth century. Burmese chronicles claim to cover a period from\nseven to eight hundred years before the Christian era. The Burmese\nlanguage certainly was not reduced to writing earlier than the fifth\ncentury of the Christian era.\n\nEarly history is founded upon legend. Doubtless many of the events\nrecorded actually happened, but their dates are hopelessly mixed, and\nevents themselves distorted by exaggeration. Measured by their records\nof the Burmese-English wars of the nineteenth century, in which every\nreverse was written down as a great victory,--all of the history\nprior to the eighteenth century is utterly untrustworthy. Much may be\nlearned from other sources, but the information is at best fragmentary\nand conflicting. In 1795, the time of the first \"Embassy to Ava,\"\nhistorical facts dating back to the early part of the century were\ngathered and verified. From that time the history of Burma, compiled\nby Europeans, is fairly continuous and accurate. In giving a brief\nsketch of the chief races of Burma, the main facts of history will\nappear. The chief races, in order of numbers, are the Burmans, Shans,\nKarens, Talaings, Chins, and Kachins. Taken in the order of priority,\nthe Talaings, according to the theory which seems to me to have\nmost in its favour,--come first in order. This theory is that they\nwere the first of all the many races of Burma to migrate southward\nfrom Tibet, or neighbouring parts of Asia. They seem to have been\nof the same race as the Burmans. They still retain the same general\ncharacteristics and customs, and cannot be distinguished from the\nBurmans where the two races mingle. The time of this migration is not\nknown, but it may safely be placed many centuries before the Christian\nera. It is probable that they gradually drifted southward until they\nreached Burma. The Burmans, coming from the same general source long\nafterwards, failed to recognize the Talaings as having any kinship\nto themselves. The fact that the Talaing language is utterly unlike\nthe Burmese, both in root words, and in construction of sentences\nindicates that the two races, or two sections of the same race, as\nthe case may be,--were kept quite distinct prior to the migration of\nthe Talaings. The Burmans, who held the Talaings in contempt, finally\nbecame indebted to them in a threefold manner,--by the adoption of\nthe Talaing system of writing, the Buddhist religion, and the sacred\nbooks in which it was recorded.\n\nThe sacred books were brought to Thatone from Ceylon, by Buddhist\nmissionaries not earlier than 386 A. D. These books were\nwritten in Pali, which is still the religious language of Buddhism.\nThe Talaings soon reduced their own language to writing, not adopting\nthe Pali characters, but drawing chiefly from the Tamil, with a change\nfrom the square to the round shaped letters.\n\nIt is well known that there was a colony of Tamils near Thatone at\nthat early date. The old theory that the Talaings descended from\nthe Telugus, and that their original home was in Talingana, is now\ngenerally discredited. Little is known of them prior to the Christian\nera, scant mention of them being found in Burmese chronicles, and\nhaving none of their own, covering their early history. Whatever\nchronicles they may have had were destroyed by the Burmese conquerors.\n\nThe Talaings seem to have been in control in the first century, A.\nD., from the Gulf of Martaban to the upper Irawadi. They founded\nPegu in the sixth century, but lost it, as well as Thatone to the\nBurmans in the eleventh century. The present city of Pegu was founded\nby the Talaings in the sixteenth century, and they have since been\nknown as Peguans. The term _Talaing_ is said to have been applied\nto them by the Burmese as a term of reproach, the word meaning \"the\ndown-trodden.\" They call themselves _Mons_,--but \"Talaings\" they will\nbe, so long as they maintain a distinct existence. In 1385 they were\nagain in power at Pegu, and two years later at Martaban. In 1410\nthey had extended their sway to Arracan, which they held until 1423.\nThe Talaings of Pegu and Martaban were conquered by the Burmans in\n1551. But in 1740 we find them again to the front. Taking advantage\nof the recklessness of the Burman king the Talaings, in alliance\nwith a colony of Shans living near Pegu, seized that town, and soon\nafterwards were in possession of Prome and Toungoo. In 1752, aided, it\nis said, by renegade Dutch and Portuguese, and with firearms procured\nfrom European traders, they invaded the upper country, capturing and\nburning Ava, the capital of the Burman kingdom. Three years later\nAlaungpra recaptured Ava, driving the Talaings southward, and in 1755\nfollowed with his army to Rangoon, destroying the Talaing power. The\nBurmans having regained possession of the whole country, retained\ncontrol until they had to yield to the greater power of the English.\nDescendants of the Talaings who remained in the Pegu district, have\npractically lost their identity, readily and willingly passing as\nBurmans. The main body retired to the country east of the Gulf of\nMartaban. In consequence of an exodus, probably more than one,--of\nTalaings into Siam after unsuccessful wars with the Burmans, joining\nthe many already in that country, there are now more Talaings in Siam\nthan in Burma. It is even claimed that Siam got her code of laws from\nthe Talaings. The census of 1901 gives the number of Talaings in\nBurma as 321,898. The number will increase year by year, as many are\nreturning to Burma from Siam. Thousands of Talaings scattered through\nthe country doubtless returned themselves as Burmans, without so much\nas recalling that their ancestors were Talaings. Many prophesy that\nthe Talaing language will in time, die out. This may be true, for the\nBurmanizing process is slowly, steadily, irresistibly going on. Nearly\nhalf of the Talaings in Burma speak Burmese, many of them speaking\nBurmese only. But this still leaves a large body beyond the reach of\nBurmanizing influences, waiting for the gospel in their own tongue. If\nthe Talaings--as a race, are to be evangelized in this generation or\nthe next, the gospel must be given to them in their own language.\n\n\nTHE BURMESE\n\nThe original home of all so-called indigenous races is still in\ndoubt. The bulk of evidence seems to be in favour of the borders of\nTibet as the original home of the race known as Burmese. To one who\nknows the characteristics of these people it is difficult to conceive\nof such a migration, except under compulsion. In the census report\nof 1901 we find them described as follows: \"The Burman as we know\nhim, is essentially a non-migrating, unbusinesslike, irresponsible\ncreature, perfectly incapable of sustained effort, content with what\ncan be gained by a minimum of toil.\" That the race ever voluntarily\nleft its original home, whatever the attraction, seems incredible.\nThe Burman himself solves the mystery by claiming celestial origin.\nBrahmas dwelling in the celestial regions came down to dwell on earth.\nAt first they existed as semi-supernatural beings, living above the\nordinary appetites and passions of men. By extending their diet to\nkinds of food not allowed to such beings they gradually lost their\nsupernatural attributes, and finally became like ordinary mortals.\nThe Burmans proudly claim lineal descent from these Brahmas. Their\nargument, quite conclusive to themselves, is based on the similarity\nbetween Brahma and Bam-ma, as they call themselves. Philologists, with\ncruel disregard for the feelings of these people, have utterly spoiled\ntheir pretty theory. Brahma is a Hindoo term, introduced long after\nthe Burmese migration. So now there is nothing left to substantiate\ntheir cherished belief,--except the national habit of wanting to\neat everything they see. In both history and religion legend is\ninextricably mixed with facts and fancies imported with Buddhism.\nBurman tradition, backed by ancient ruins on the upper Irrawadi,\nassert that Sakya tribes from central northern India, migrating by\nway of Manipur, settled in Upper Burma a few centuries before the\nChristian era. It is difficult to account for such ruins as are to\nbe seen at Tagaung, on any other theory. These ruins can hardly be\nthe remains of work accomplished by any of the indigenous races of\nBurma, in their barbarous condition. The claim that the first Burmese\nmonarchy received its stimulus from these Indian princes can neither\nbe proved nor disproved. In any event whatever remained of the foreign\ntribes was assimilated by the Mongoloid peoples who were first in the\nland.\n\nAn incursion of Shans before the opening of the Christian era,\nthemselves forced out of western China, seems to have caused the\ndownfall of the kingdom of the Indian tribes, if they really had one.\n\nShans, rather than Burmans, then became supreme in the upper Irrawadi\nvalley. Not until as late as the eleventh century did the Burmans\nregain their supremacy, and even then the Shans continued to hold the\ncountry north of Bhamo. In the Burman war of conquest in the south\nat this time, the main object was to secure the Buddhist Scriptures,\nknown to be in possession of the Talaings at Thatone. These sacred\nbooks, obtainable in no other way, were essential to the king's\npurpose to reform the imperfect Buddhism of the north. There is some\nevidence that Buddhism was introduced into Upper Burma from India, by\nway of Manipur, several centuries before it was brought to Lower Burma\nfrom Ceylon.\n\nIt is evident that Upper Burma did not have the Buddhist sacred books\nprior to the eleventh century. Northern Buddhism was only super-added\nto the existing rites of _Naga_, and spirit worship.\n\nIn the south the sacred books had already been translated from Pali\ninto Talaing, but not into Burmese. With the importation of the sacred\nbooks into Upper Burma, and their translation from Talaing into\nBurmese, the real history of Buddhism among the Burmese began.\n\nIt is not known when this translation was begun, nor when the Burmans,\nby adopting the Talaing system, reduced their language to writing.\nSome of the later translations of Pali writings into Burmese direct,\nwere made about the beginning of the nineteenth century.\n\nThe Burmese \"Pagan Monarchy,\" weakened by bad government and luxurious\nliving, came to an untimely end in the thirteenth century, through an\ninvasion of the Chinese. The Shans in the north held the balance of\npower, and may have agreed to the subordination of Burma to China, as\nthe Chinese have always claimed.\n\n[Illustration: BUDDHIST SHRINES]\n\nIn the fourteenth century a new king, nominally Burmese, but connected\nwith the Shans,--came into full power, and founded Ava. But early in\nthe fifteenth century (1426) the Burmans lost their capital and all\nthe territory north of Toungoo and Prome, to the Shans. The new city\nof Toungoo, built about this time, was the seat of an independent\nprince. Pegu had been ruled by kings of Shan race since 1281. In\n1538-9 the Toungoo Burman prince, Tabin Shwe' Htee, conquered Pegu,\nin the following year Martaban, and after being proclaimed king in\nPegu, extended his sway in 1542, as far north as Pagan. Two years\nlater, with an allied army of Burmans, Shans and Talaings, he invaded\nand conquered Arracan, but not Chittagong. But his success as king\nat Pegu was short-lived. Expensive but fruitless wars, and excessive\ndissipation turned the people against him. He soon became the victim\nof a conspiracy and was treacherously murdered. In 1551 the Burmans\nwere again victorious at Pegu, pursuing and destroying the Talaing\nking. Three years later they regained Ava from the Shans, but retained\nthe capital at Pegu. Pressing his successes, the Burman king, in\n1557, conquered the Shans in the extreme north of Burma, and a little\nlater at Thibaw, Mone and \"Zimme\"; northern Siam becoming tributary\nto Burma. Steps were taken to make the then non-Buddhist Shans (many\nwere doubtless already Buddhists), conform to the Buddhist customs of\nthe Burmese. The Burman ruler, Nawartha, was now what his ambition\ncraved,--the \"King of Kings.\"\n\nBut before the end of the century Pegu and all the territory south to\nTavoy had been lost. Between 1600 and 1613 a Portuguese adventurer\nnamed Philip de Brito reigned as king of Pegu, with residence at his\nown fortified city of Syriam. By the marriage of his son with the\ndaughter of the king of Martaban, the cooperation of that section was\nsecured. In 1612 De Brito and the king of Martaban marched against\nthe prince of Toungoo, who had broken faith with De Brito by forming\nan alliance with Ava. \"They plundered the city, burned the palace and\nretired.\" This high-handed aggression soon reacted on his own head.\n\nThe Burman king advanced from Ava with an immense army, laid seige to\nSyriam, and starved the garrison to surrender. De Brito, who had been\nguilty of many sacrilegious acts, destroying pagodas and other sacred\nobjects in search of plunder, could hope for no mercy at the hands of\nhis captors. The leading Portuguese were slaughtered. The remainder,\nincluding the women, were carried away captive to Ava as slaves. Their\ndescendants may now be found throughout Burma, many of them being\nRoman Catholic priests. In 1634 Ava was made the permanent capital.\n\nAn immense pagoda was built, and a costly image of Gautama cast to add\nto the sacredness of the place, and to the merit of the king.\n\nBut Burman fortunes were uncertain. Ava the Great was taken and burned\nby the Talaings in 1752. Not long were the Talaings allowed to hold\nthe Burman capital. A Burman who took the name of Alaungpra, with\nwonderful vigour and ability rallied his people. Little more than a\nyear had passed when Alaungpra recaptured Ava. In 1755 he took his\narmies southward, conquering as he went, not content until he reached\nDagon. There he founded a new city, which he designed should be the\nchief port of Burma, and named it Rangon (or Yangon), the word meaning\nthe war ended.\n\nA legend says that Dagon village was founded and the Shwe Dagon pagoda\nbuilt in 586 B. C., which is probably within a few centuries\nof the true date. The village was rebuilt by the Talaing king of Pegu\nabout 744 A. D. The great pagoda, upon which an expensive\n_htee_ or umbrella had been placed in 1540, was still further\nimproved, \"to rival the one at Pegu.\" (The present _htee_ was placed\non the Shwe Dagon pagoda in 1871, by Mindon Min.) But the Talaing\ncapital of Lower Burma, Pegu, had not yet been taken. We have seen\nthat in 1613 Syriam was destroyed by the Burmans because of De Brito's\naggressions.\n\nNow, in 1755, both British and French traders were established there.\nDuring the struggles between the Burmans and Talaings, the Europeans\nhardly knew which should have their favour and help. Everything\ndepended on being on the side which should prove victorious.\n\nAlaungpra, after securing Rangoon, returned to Ava. This was\ninterpreted as a sign of weakness, and thereafter the Europeans openly\nshowed their sympathy with the Talaings. When the Talaings attacked\nthe Burmese, they were assisted by the ships of both British and\nFrench.\n\nBut alas, Alaungpra returned early in the following year. After a\nblockade of several months Syriam was taken and destroyed, including\nthe European factories. The principal Europeans, after being held a\nshort time as prisoners, were put to death. The downfall of Pegu soon\nfollowed, marking the end of Talaing supremacy.\n\nSix years later, 1762, Sagaing became the capital of the Burmese\nEmpire. Passing over the wars with Siam, Manipur, and China, we find\nthe capital changed, in 1783, to Amarapura, a new city built for the\npurpose. The following year Arracan was invaded and conquered. The\nmost valued booty was an immense brass image of Gautama, cast in the\nsecond century, said to possess miraculous powers. This image, taken\nover the mountains, a wonderful feat, was placed in a building erected\nfor the purpose, on the north side of Amarapura, the new capital,\nwhere it may now be seen by visitors to the \"Arracan Pagoda.\"\n\nIn 1795 the first envoy to the king of Burma was sent by the\ngovernment of India. The envoy was not well received, and secured no\npermanent advantage. The following year another was deputed to be\nresident at Rangoon, instead of Ava. He met with the same discourteous\ntreatment, and accomplished nothing. Up to 1812 five successive\nattempts were made to arrive at an understanding with the Burman king,\nwith reference to political and commercial relations, but without\nsuccess. Envoys were either ignored or made the bearers of insolent\nreplies. At this time war between England and the United States was\nabout to begin. Adoniram Judson was getting ready to sail as a foreign\nmissionary.\n\nIn 1823 the capital was restored to Ava. A great fire at Amarapura\ndestroying some of the royal buildings, together with certain \"bad\nsigns,\" induced the king to abandon the city which had been in\nexistence only forty years. During the previous year the Burmans had\noverrun Manipur and parts of Assam, and claimed the territory as a\npart of the Burman Empire. The first battle ever fought between the\nBurmese and English was at Cachar--in January, 1824. The Burmans were\ndefeated. In 1824-5 the British and native troops succeeded in driving\nthe Burmans back into their own country. The bulk of the Burmese army\nhad already been recalled to repel the British who were advancing from\nthe south, war having been formerly declared in March, 1824. In the\nmeantime the American missionaries, Judson and Price, together with\nall Europeans at Ava were imprisoned as suspected spies, or in league\nwith the enemy.\n\nAfter eleven months they were transferred to Aungbinle, with the\nintention to put them to death. The first Burmese war lasted two years.\n\nArracan, and all the country east of the Gulf of Martaban was ceded to\nthe British. Rangoon reverted to the Burmese. But the most interesting\nresult to American readers, was the release of the missionaries,\nJudson and Price, who were utilized as messengers to negotiate the\nterms of surrender. After the second installment of indemnity had\nbeen paid, and the British troops withdrawn to territory ceded by\nthe humiliated king the following record of the affair was added to\nthe royal chronicles. \"In the years 1186, 1187 (Burmese) the white\nstrangers of the west fastened a quarrel upon the Lord of the Golden\nPalace.\n\n\"They landed at Rangoon, took that place and Prome, and were permitted\nto advance as far as Yandabu, for the king, from motives of piety\nand regard to life, made no preparation whatever to oppose them. The\nstrangers had spent vast sums of money in their enterprise, so that\nby the time they reached Yandabu their resources were exhausted, and\nthey were in great distress. They then petitioned the king, who, in\nhis clemency and generosity, sent them large sums of money to pay\ntheir expenses back, and ordered them out of the country.\" The record\nmodestly omitted to mention the fact that the strangers had permission\nto take with them the Arracan, Ye, Tavoy, Mergui, and Tenasserim\nprovinces!\n\nThe whole period from 1826 to the second Burmese-English war, in 1852,\nwas marked by heartless cruelties inflicted by successive Burman kings\nupon all real or suspected offenders; by persistent repudiation of\nthe terms agreed upon at the close of the first war; and by gross\ninsults to British representatives. The second Burmese-English war\nlasted a year and a half, and resulted in the annexation of the\nProvince of Pegu, which included Rangoon and extended to a point\nabout thirty miles north of Toungoo. In about 1837 the capital was\nagain transferred to Amarapura, where it remained until Mandalay was\nfounded, in 1860, by Mindon Min. A new king, Mindon Min, was soon\nproclaimed at Amarapura. Throughout his reign, from 1853 to 1878,\nrelations between the British and Burmese were greatly improved.\nMindon Min was the best king Burma ever had. Moreover, the loss of\nArracan, Tenasserim, and Pegu had inspired some degree of respect\nfor representatives of the British Indian Government. With the death\nof Mindon, and the ascension of Thibaw, trouble began. The great\nmassacre, in which about seventy of royal blood, including women\nand children, were ruthlessly butchered, called forth a vigorous\nremonstrance from the British Government. An insolent reply was\nreturned, rejecting outside interference.\n\nIn August 1879 the resident at Mandalay was withdrawn. Massacres\nsoon followed, rivalling the horrors of the past. At this time many\nthousands of Burmese migrated to Lower Burma to escape oppression.\n\nThibaw then began a flirtation with France. The Bombay Burma\nTrading Company was accused of defrauding the king in the matter of\nroyalty on teak logs. An enormous fine was inflicted. Arbitration\nwas rejected. The French were conspiring with the king to gain\ncommercial advantages, giving them practically full control of Upper\nBurma, including the only route to western China. In June, 1885, the\ngovernment of India obtained conclusive evidence as to the nature\nof these negotiations. A demand was made that a British resident be\nreceived at Mandalay, and that Thibaw reveal his foreign policy.\nThis ultimatum was refused. The British immediately advanced on the\ncapital. On the 28th of November, 1885, Mandalay was taken, and King\nThibaw made a prisoner. The great, self-sufficient Burman kingdom had\nfallen to rise no more.\n\nFrench diplomatists had outreached themselves, and precipitated the\nannexation of Upper Burma.\n\nOn the first of January, 1886, the following proclamation was issued:\n\"By command of the Queen-Empress it is hereby notified that the\nterritories formerly governed by King Thibaw will no longer be under\nhis rule, but have become a part of Her Majesty's dominions, and will\nduring Her Majesty's pleasure, be administered by such officers as the\nviceroy and government of India may from time to time appoint.\"\n\nIt will be seen that the Burmese throughout their history have been a\nwarlike people. The adoption of Buddhism, as the national religion,\nwith its strict rules concerning the taking of life, does not seem to\nhave wrought any change in this respect. The grossest cruelties were\npracticed, suspected conspirators slaughtered by hundreds, generals\nwho had failed in battle, as well as others of high rank or noble\nblood were executed, sewed up in red sacks, and sunk in the Irrawadi\nRiver. Sometimes the preliminary execution was dispensed with.\n\nVictorious kings built great pagodas, at the expense of the people, to\nexpiate their sins of bloodshed,--and then renewed the carnage.\n\nThe cruelties inflicted upon Judson and his companions at Ava and\nAungbinle; the history of Burman dacoity since the English occupation;\ntogether with many other evidences,--stamp the Burman as far from\nbeing the tolerant, peace-loving, life-reverencing character that\nmany of his admirers, on the interest of Buddhism, or Theosophy,\nhave pictured. It is said that a professor in a certain theological\nseminary, seeking to cast discredit on the historical authenticity\nof the Book of Daniel, called the attention of his class to the\nunlikelihood that any Oriental monarch would have issued such decrees\nas are attributed to Nebuchadnezzar, in the third chapter. To say\nnothing of Mohammedan fanaticism, familiarity with Oriental character\nas exhibited by Burman kings would have dispelled the professor's\ndoubts.\n\nWhen Naungdawgyi had completed the great Shwe Dagon pagoda, in\ncomparison with which Nebuchadnezzar's image was Liliputian, he made\na decree that all peoples must fall down and worship it, on penalty\nof death. The majority of the people being spirit-worshippers, the\ndecree could not be enforced. To let himself down easily, the king\ncommanded that a _nat-sin_, or spirit-house be erected near the\npagoda. The people coming to make offerings to the _nats_--would\nalso be coming to the pagoda, and so the decree would be obeyed,\nand, in time, its purpose effected. The character of the Burman king\nBodaw-para, who was on the throne when Judson came to Burma, is thus\ndescribed by Father San-Germano, who lived in Burma twenty years\nduring this king's reign. \"His very countenance is the index of a\nmind ferocious and inhuman in the highest degree,--and it would not\nbe an exaggeration to assert that during his reign more victims have\nfallen by the hand of the executioner than by the sword of the common\nenemy....\n\n\"The good fortune that has attended him ... has inspired him with the\nidea that he is something more than mortal, and that this privilege\nhas been granted him on account of his numerous good works....\n\n\"A few years since he thought to make himself a god.\" He did in fact,\nproclaim himself as the fulfillment of the national expectation of\na fifth Buddha. Priests who refused to recognize his claims, were\npunished. Who can doubt that the late King Thibaw would have been\nquite capable of repeating Nebuchadnezzar's decree, had he thought of\nit, and seen any advantage in it, to himself.\n\nThe census of 1901 gives the total population of the province as\n10,490,624. Of this total the Burmese number 6,508,682, while the\nnumber returning the Burmese language as their ordinary tongue was\n7,006,495. The total number of Buddhists, including the Shans and\nTalaings, is 9,184,121. The area of the province is 286,738 square\nmiles. To the casual visitor the country seems to be peopled almost\nexclusively by Burmese, and Buddhism the only form of worship, the\nother races inhabiting isolated parts of the country, far removed from\nthe main lines of travel. The population of Rangoon is about 235,000.\nBuddhists and Hindus number about the same, with more than half as\nmany Musalmans as of either. Fifty per cent. of the population are\nimmigrants. Rangoon is no longer a Burman city.\n\nIn Mandalay, their last capital, and second city of Burma, the\nsituation is quite different. In a total of 178,000 over 152,000\nare Buddhists. This city has been in existence only sixty-three\nyears. Its outward appearance is much the same as it was when taken\nby the British in 1885. The same brick wall, twenty-six feet high,\nwith its crenelated top, a mile and a quarter on each side of the\nsquare, forming an impregnable (!) barrier against all comers,--still\nsurrounds what was the royal town. On each side are three gates,\nreached by bridges across the wide moat, which is kept filled with\nwater by a connection with a natural lake a few miles to the northeast.\n\n[Illustration: BURMESE WOMAN WEAVING]\n\nInside of the walled town comparatively little now remains as it was\nwhen captured. The natives occupying thatched houses, were compelled\nto move outside the wall, taking their shanties with them. For this\nthey were amply compensated by the British Indian Government. A large\ncity, regularly laid out with straight wide streets, was already\nflourishing outside of the walled section. Within the walls the palace\nand monasteries still remain, the former now being restored by the\nprovincial government, at great expense. Services of the Church of\nEngland are held in one of the large halls. In one of the buildings\nnear the palace the Mandalay Club is comfortably established. Several\nold cannon, used by the Burmese in their wars, more for the noise they\ncould make than for any death-dealing powers they possessed, now adorn\nthe grounds. The king's monastery, and the queen's monastery, are\nobjects of interest. Near the former is the site of the \"Incomparable\"\ntemple, destroyed by fire in 1892. This immense structure, with its\ngilded columns and lofty ceiling, was the grandest building in the\ncity. Near by is a huge pagoda within a high rectangular wall. The\nspace enclosed is subdivided into three compartments by low walls\nextending around the pagoda, to represent the threefold division\nof the Buddhist scriptures. These spaces contain seven hundred and\ntwenty shrines about fifteen feet high, their tops supported by four\ncolumns. In the centre of each shrine, set like a gravestone in the\ncement floor, is a stone tablet about three feet wide by five and a\nhalf feet high, covered on both sides with portions of the sacred\nwritings. The floor around each tablet is polished by the bare feet of\nmany devotees,--for the \"Law\" is one of the \"three precious things\"\nof Buddhism--commanding their worship. For all this immense outlay\nof time and money devoted to sacred objects Mindon Min is supposed\nto have secured the royal merit, freeing him from the countless\nexistences through which the ordinary mortal must pass. The prevailing\nimpression that as a result of the monastic school system all of\nthe Burmese males can read and write, is not corroborated by the\nrecent census. A little less than half (490 in each 1,000) are able\nto both read and write. Doubtless a large majority spent enough of\ntheir childhood in the monastery to acquire these accomplishments,\nbut, to many, they have become lost arts, through disuse. Only\nfifty-five in each thousand of Burmese women can read and write. Girls\nare not admitted to monastic schools. This small gain is chiefly\ndue to mission schools. The demand for female education is rapidly\nincreasing. All Burmans, except the relatively small number of\nconverts to Christianity, are Buddhists. Nearly all are worshippers of\nidols.\n\nA sect called Paramats was founded at the beginning of last century.\nThe Paramats will have nothing to do with pagodas and idols. They\nrespect the ordinary Buddhist priests, as representatives of Gautama,\nwho was the incarnation of eternal wisdom. They do not hold that\neternal wisdom is reincarnated in the priests, and therefore do not\nworship them as orthodox Buddhists do. This eternal wisdom, which\nexisted before the world was made, and will exist throughout eternity,\nfills all space, but exercises no influence over this world. Eternal\nwisdom is not, except in a very vague sense, personified--as an\nequivalent of the Christian conception of an eternal God. But the\nParamats have the germ of a true belief, and, as a rule, are thinking\nmen, which is more than can be said of the ordinary Buddhist. Numerous\nin the district midway between Mandalay, and Rangoon, they furnish a\nhopeful field for missionary effort.\n\n\nTHE SHANS\n\n_The Shans_ rank second in point of numbers. Max Muller held that the\nShans were the first to leave their original home in western China.\nContact with the Chinese has left its mark upon them, sufficient,\napart from other evidence, to prove their origin. Having been forced\nout of western China they drifted southward, and founded some of the\nlarge towns in the territory now known as \"Shan-land\" as early as 400,\nor 500 B. C.--if their own chronicles can be believed. But\nat this point different conclusions have been reached from the same\nsources of information, some accepting these dates as approximately\ncorrect, others rejecting them as too remote by several centuries.\nIndeed, it is difficult to determine whether the first migration was\nsouthward, or to the southwest, or whether there were two migrations\nsimultaneously. As we have seen in our study of the Burmese, the Shans\nwere supreme on the Upper Irrawadi early in the Christian era, having\nexpelled the Burmese and taken possession of that part of the country.\nIt may have been as early as 400 or 500 B. C., when they\noverthrew the Tagaung monarchy. My own view is that the Shans first\nmigrated to the southwest across the Namkham valley, founding the \"Maw\nKingdom,\" which finally extended to the Irrawadi and Chindwin rivers\nin northern Burma. And that not until several centuries later did they\nextend their sway to the southeast, founding Thibaw, Mone, and other\ntowns.\n\nThat there is a discrepancy of ten centuries or more between this\nview and the Shan Chronicles, in which the most striking feature is\nexaggeration, need not disturb any one. In fact, a sound \"principle\nof interpretation\" of legendary history, whether Burmese or Shan, is\nto cut down its figures by about one half.\n\nNear the end of the tenth century the Shans occupied Arracan about\neighteen years. The Shan kingdom continued until overcome by the\nBurmese, in the middle of the eleventh century. They still remained\nin power in the far north. In 1281 Shans from Siam joining with Shans\nof Martaban, conquered Martaban, then with assistance of Shans from\nthe north they captured Pegu from the Burmans. At the beginning of\nthe fourteenth century the Shans were again in the ascendant in Upper\nBurma, the Burmans having been weakened by Chinese invasions. The\nShans now ruled the country from the upper reaches of the Irrawadi\nas far south as Prome, but not including Toungoo. All Burma was\nthreatened with Shan supremacy. This might have been realized but\nfor the Shan emperor's own recklessness and tyranny, working his own\ndownfall.\n\nKings of Shan race controlled Pegu from 1281 until conquered by the\nToungoo Burman prince, Tabin Shwe' Htee, in 1539. The Shan power in\nthe north having become weakened, the Burmese in 1554, captured Ava,\nand in 1557 conquered the Shans throughout the Upper Irrawadi region.\nThibaw, Mone, and \"Zimme\" in northern Siam, fell to the Burmans a\nyear later. The Shans seem to have remained subject to the Burman\nkings until the annexation of Upper Burma; and sometimes assisted the\nBurmans in their wars with the Talaings and Siamese.\n\nThe census of 1901 gives a total of 751,759 Shan-speaking people.\n\nBesides the northern and southern Shan States, a large number of Shans\nare still found in Upper Burma, and many Shan villages throughout\nLower Burma. It is not definitely known when the Shans adopted\nBuddhism. There are evidences that the Shans, who were supreme on the\nUpper Irrawadi at the opening of the Christian era, and for several\ncenturies after, were influenced by Buddhism introduced from India\nby way of Manipur, and that many accepted it. After the introduction\nof Buddhism from the south it spread rapidly among the Burmese, and\nthrough them to the Shans, becoming the national religion of both\nraces.\n\nIt is said that many Shan Buddhist priests sought reordination\naccording to the rules of the southern type of Buddhism.\n\nThe Shans established monasteries throughout their country. Under the\nlater Burman kings, Burman priests were sent to propagate Buddhism\nin the Shan country. In some places the sacred books were destroyed,\nand other books written in the Burmese language substituted, Burmese\nbecoming the language of the Monastic schools for Shan boys.\n\nBurman kings adopted the same tactics in dealing with the Talaings.\n\nThe customs of the Shans and the Burmese are much the same, but\ntheir costume is more like that of the Chinese. The same is true of\nthe Karen costume. Though differing from the costume of the Shan,\nboth seem to have been derived from their contact with the Chinese\nbefore their migration to Burma. The broad lopped-rim Shan hat and\nflowing trousers with the seat between the knees differentiate the\nShan from other races. They have a written language, adopted from the\nBurmese,--some four or five hundred years ago,--as the Burmese had\nadopted theirs from the Talaing.\n\n\nTHE KARENS\n\n_The Karens_ found their way in Burma from western China; forced\nsouthward by the Chinese. Then when the Shans were in like manner\ndriven into Burma, the Karens were pushed on still further south, like\ndriftwood before the tide. Their original home is uncertain. It seems\nevident that at a much earlier period they had migrated into western\nChina from some place still further north. One of their own traditions\nis that their ancestors, in their wanderings, crossed a \"river of\nsand.\"\n\nThe desert of Gobi best answers to their tradition. Other traditions\npoint to western China as their early home. It is not unlikely that\nthe tradition of the \"river of sand\" is much the older, and these\ntraditions taken together mark the progress of the Karens in at\nleast two widely separated migrations southward. The Karens strongly\nresemble certain hill-tribes now living in western China; in fact\nsome of the Karens have identically the same customs, as these China\nhill-tribes, who are also said to have the tradition of a \"river of\nsand.\"\n\nThere are three main divisions of the Karens, known as Pwo, Sgaw, and\nKarennee or \"Red Karens.\" This threefold division antedates their\nmigration to Burma. The Pwos, sometimes called \"the mother race,\" are\nsupposed to have been the first arrivals, working their way south\nby the way of the valleys of the Salwen and Mekong Rivers; followed\nby the Sgaws, and finally by the Karennees, though it is doubtful\nwhether there was any interval between these main divisions in the\ngeneral migration. But in some way they have--to this day--maintained\nthe distinction. It is probable that for a time the Karens held the\nterritory now known as the eastern Shan states, and all the upper\nSalwen region. The coming of the Shans, whether from the north or\nwest, drove them southward, each of these tribal divisions advancing\nunder compulsion in the same order in which they first entered the\ncountry.\n\nThe Pwos are now found in the delta and still farther south in the\nMaulmain district; the Karennees farther north, bordering on the Shan\ncountry, and east to the Siam border; the Sgaws keeping to the central\nterritory, in the Toungoo district and diagonally across to Bassein,\nsharing parts of the delta with the Pwos. A large body of Sgaw Karens,\nas well as many Pwos, are found in the Tavoy district, farthest south\nof all. The Tavoy Karens drifted in from Siam, not extending to the\nseacoast until early in the last century.\n\nThere is now a continuous chain of Karens from Tavoy far into the\nnorth of Siam. In general, the Karens live in the highlands, the\nBurmans occupying the plains. Formerly this was partly from choice,\nbut unavoidable whether from choice or not, on account of the cruel\noppression suffered at the hands of the more powerful Burmans. But\nunder British rule many Karens have come down to the plains, and\nforming villages of their own, have engaged in cultivation. They still\nlike to be within easy reach of the mountains, to which they resort\nfor game and other food.\n\nIn the shady ravines they have profitable gardens of betel (areca)\npalms, the nut being essential to any native's happiness, and\ncommanding a ready sale. Some writers have advanced the theory\nthat the religious traditions of the Karens were derived from their\nsupposed contact with Nestorian Jews in western China. This can hardly\nbe true--as it places the migration of the Karens to Burma at much too\nlate a date.\n\nThe Nestorians did not begin their work in western China until 505\nA. D., closing it in 1368, when they were expelled by the\nMongols.\n\nIt seems certain that the Karens were already in Burma long before the\nNestorian missionaries went to China. (Marco Polo's Roman Catholic\nmission-work in western China did not begin until 1271.)\n\nIf it is true that the large towns in Shan-land were founded by\nthe Shans four or five hundred years before the Christian era, the\nmigration of the Karens must be placed at an even earlier period,--but\nthat early date is doubtful. The non-Christian Karens are, and always\nhave been spirit-worshippers. This so-called worship is limited to\npropitiatory sacrifice. In this respect they are at one with all the\nraces of Burma, not excepting the Burman Buddhists, though the latter\nhave abandoned bloody sacrifice. Before the adoption of Buddhism the\nBurmans, Shans and Talaings were spirit-worshippers pure and simple.\nSpirit-worshippers they still are, with the forms of Buddhism for a\nveneering.\n\nBut the Karens have many religious traditions, so closely following\nthe Bible accounts of the creation, fall, flood, and other events\nas to furnish strong evidence that in bygone ages their ancestors\nsomewhere were in touch with the people of God. In spite of their\nspirit-worship they have retained a belief in a Supreme Being, and\nlong looked forward to the time when God's Word, which they had lost,\nshould be restored to them. God was believed to be a benevolent Being,\nbut so far away that he had nothing to do with men. All spirits\nwere believed to be evil, vengeful and near at hand. Therefore the\nSupreme Being was left out of their worship, and sacrifices offered\nto propitiate evil spirits who might work harm to them, by causing\nsickness, destruction of crops, and many other possible misfortunes.\nThe Karens contend that in making offerings to the evil spirits they\nwere not showing disloyalty to the Supreme Being. They illustrate\ntheir position by the following story: \"Some children left in a\nplace of supposed safety by their parents, were so frightened by the\napproach of a tiger that they threw down the cliff some pigs that had\ntaken refuge with them. Their eyes, however, were not fixed on the\ntiger, but on the path by which they expected their father to come.\nTheir hands fed the tiger _from fear_, but their ears were eagerly\nlistening for the twang of their father's bowstring, which should send\nthe arrow quivering into the tiger's heart.\" \"And so, although we\nhave to make sacrifices to demons, our hearts are still true to God.\nWe must throw sops to the demons who afflict us, but our hearts were\nlooking for God.\"\n\nThe history of the Karens in Burma has been a sad one. For centuries\nthey had been grievously oppressed by the Burmans, who robbed them,\ncarried away captives into slavery, and kept the Karens pent up in the\nmost inaccessible parts of the mountain ranges.\n\nUnder British rule the Karens are safe from serious molestation, but\nthe old feeling still remains, and they hold aloof from the Burman as\nmuch as possible. The coming of the Christian missionary, restoring\nto them the knowledge of the true God so vaguely known through their\ntraditions, was the great event to which the whole Karen nation had\nso long looked forward. Multitudes readily accepted Christianity. By\nits power they were emancipated from the domination of evil spirits;\nthe swords and spears of tribal feuds were forged into pruning hooks;\nand the whole Christian world rejoiced in the glorious spectacle\nof \"A nation in a day.\" The census of 1901 gives a total of nearly\n714,000 Karens, of all tribes. Many more are found in Siam. It has\nbeen asserted that \"more languages are spoken in Assam than in any\nother country in the world.\" The same may be said of Burma. The recent\ncensus recognized fifty-seven indigenous races or tribes, and as many\nmore non-indigenous. In the Toungoo district the missionaries meet\nwith several Karen dialects not mentioned in the census enumeration,\nbut so distinct that one tribe does not understand the dialect of\nanother.\n\nIn some localities one meets with a new dialect in each village\nthrough which he passes in a day's journey. Ye shades of Shinar!\nconfusion of tongues,--twice confounded. It seems incredible that so\nmany families of one race, occupying the same territory, and with\npractically the same habits, customs, and superstitions,--should\neach perpetuate for centuries its own peculiar dialect and clannish\nexclusiveness. The missionary or official, to do effective work among\nsuch a people, needs a small army of interpreters at his heels.\n\n\nTHE KACHINS\n\n_The Kachins_ inhabit the extreme northern part of Burma, extending\nas far south as the Bhamo and Namkham districts, and east into\nChina. The Kachins are own cousins to the Nagas of the adjacent hill\ntract of Assam, who call themselves \"Singpho.\" \"Kachin\" is a name\napplied to these people by the Burmans. The Kachins of Burma call\nthemselves \"Chingpaw.\" This quite suits their kinsmen of Assam, who\nlook down upon the Chingpaws as unworthy the grand name of Singpho.\nBoth terms seem to mean \"men,\"--but _men_ in distinction from the\ninferior races around them. The census of 1901 gives a total of 65,510\nKachins in Burma alone. The early missionaries held that the Kachins\nand Karens were of the same origin; that the Kachins were really\nKarens, from whom the southern Karens had become separated. This\nview seemed substantiated by the people themselves; by some of their\ncustoms,--such as the manner in which their houses are constructed\nand partitioned off; by a certain similarity of language--many\ncommon nouns said to be common to both languages, and by their\nspirit-worship. It is now generally admitted that the Kachins and\nKarens are not of the same origin. In bygone ages they may have\nbeen neighbours, if not more closely related,--in the borders of\nTartary,--but at a very remote period. Certainly they did not migrate\nto Burma at the same time, nor by the same route. The Kachins have\ntraditions that they migrated to Burma by way of the headwaters of\nthe Irrawadi,--that their primal ancestor lived at \"Majoi Shingra\nPum.\" In his \"Handbook of the Kachin Language,\" H. F. Hertz says: \"I\nhave succeeded in obtaining the views of several old men, _Tumsas_\nand _Faiwas_, who might be described as Kachin priests. It would seem\nfrom these that 'Majoi Shingra Pum' is a high table-land with very few\ntrees, frequently covered with snow, and very cold.\n\n\"Now, the name 'Majoi Shingra Pum,' literally translated is a\nnaturally flat mountain, or in other words, a plateau, and it does\nnot need any stretch of the imagination to identify it with some part\nof eastern Tibet. Colonel Hannay, writing in 1847, describes tribes\nresiding in the inaccessible regions bordering on Tartary as closely\nallied to the Kachins.\" This identifies the Kachins more closely\nwith the Burmans and Chins than with the Karens. Moreover it is said\nthat the Kachin language has more points in common with the Burmese\nthan with the Karen. This is especially true of the Marus,--a tribe\nto the eastward, allied to the Kachins of Burma. It is not difficult\nto believe that all these races, in the very remote past, were\nneighbours in the borders of Tibet, and that while the Kachins and\nBurmese migrated south direct, the Karens migrating by way of western\nChina,--the meeting of these races on Burmese soil reveals a few of\nthe many things they once had in common.\n\nAfter the Burmans and Chins had migrated to Burma, the Shans, pressing\nwestward by way of the Namkham valley, blocked the way of further\nmigrations from the north. The Shans are known to have been supreme in\nnorthern Burma at the beginning of the Christian era. It is probable\nthat they peopled the Upper Irrawadi several centuries earlier. In\nthe thirteenth century the Shans overran Assam. Not until the middle\nof the sixteenth century were they finally overcome by the Burmans.\nNothing is known of the Kachins in Burma earlier than the sixteenth\ncentury. They seem to be comparatively recent arrivals, working their\nway into Burma after the Shans had been weakened by their struggles\nwith the Burmans. The Singphos of Assam are said to have drifted into\nthat country but a little more than a century ago.\n\nThe Kachins have gradually forced the Palaungs and Shans before them,\nor isolating some of their villages from the main body. Their sudden\ndevelopment of power is remarkable. Political changes consequent on\nthe annexation of Upper Burma checked Kachin aggressions. They are\nstill spreading, but by fairly peaceable means. The Namkham district,\nsupposedly Shan, is found to contain fully as many Kachins as Shans.\nSlowly but surely the Shans will be pressed southward. Before passing\nunder control of the British the various tribes of Kachins were ever\nat war among themselves. Captives were sold into slavery. Retaliatory\nraids were constantly expected. Feuds are still kept up, though they\ndo not have the free hand to execute vengeance enjoyed in former years.\n\nThe Kachin, from habit, is watchful and suspicious of\nstrangers,--until his confidence is gained. Their villages are usually\nhigh up in the hills, as secluded and inaccessible as possible. But\nthe isolated situation of the village probably is due to the fear of\n_nats_, spirits,--quite as much as from fear of human enemies. One\nwriter describes an avenue leading to the village, with bamboo posts\nat regular intervals, with rattan ropes, \u00e0 la clothes-line, from which\nvarious emblems are suspended. Near the village \"wooden knives, axes,\nspears, and swords are fastened to the tree-trunks. All this display\nis for the benefit of the nats. Like the Chinese, they do not give\ntheir demons credit for much acuteness. For one thing they believe\nthat they can only move in a straight line. Therefore the _nats_\navoid going about in the jungle, and keep to the open paths. A few\njudicious turns are made in the avenue, so as to turn the prowling\ndevils off, if possible, but if he should happen to be cannoned off\nthe tree stems in the right direction, there are the emblems to show\nhim where the thing he is in search of may be found. If he is hungry\nthere is the bullock's skull nailed to a tree, to indicate where food\nmay be found; if he is thirsty a joint of bamboo points out where\na libation of rice spirit has been made.\" These spirit-worshippers\nare more easily gained than the Buddhist Burmans and Shans, but they\nhave not the traditions of the Karens to prejudice them in favour of\nChristianity. Morally, they rank very low,--and yet their morality\nmust be viewed in the light of Kachin, rather than English custom.\nAs with the non-Christian Karens, there are certain unwritten tribal\nlaws governing family life. Should a Kachin presume to poach on his\nneighbour's preserves, there would be one less Kachin the next day.\n\nCourtship, when once the parties have come to an understanding, is\nconducted as a \"probationary marriage.\" They may separate before the\nmarriage ceremony takes place, if they weary of each other. But if\nthey have already started a colony, marriage _must_ follow, or the man\n\"has to kill a bullock and pigs--to appease the _nats_ of the damsel's\nhouse. In addition he has to pay a fine to the parents, of a spear,\na gong, a _da_, and some pieces of cloth, and sometimes a bullock\nor buffalo.\" The old man is more exacting than the _nats_. Such\nseparations do not effect the social standing of either party. It is\nclaimed that separations or disloyalty after marriage \"are practically\nunknown.\"\n\nIt certainly would not be healthy to have it known. The Kachins\nhave their own distinctive costume, varying according to tribe and\nlocality. But Kachin men in touch with Chinese, Shans, or Burmans,\nusually adopt the costume of their neighbours. The women hold to their\nown costume.\n\nThe religion of the Kachins, though gross spirit-worship, contains\nan element of truth not found in the Buddhism of the more civilized\nBurmans. Rev. Mr. Geis, missionary at Myitkyina says--\"Above and\nbeyond all _nats_ to whom Kachins offer sacrifices at one time or\nanother, they recognize the existence of one great spirit called\nKarai Kasang. Altars in his honour are not found in Kachin villages\nor houses. No priest has been able to divine what offerings are to be\nmade to it, but in time of great danger _nats_ and their offerings\nare forgotten, and their cry goes out to Karai Kasang for help and\nsuccour.\"\n\n\nTHE CHINS\n\n_The Chins_, who number about 180,000, are thought to be of the same\norigin as the Burmese,--from the neighbourhood of Tibet. It is evident\nthat they became separated from kindred tribes at a very remote period.\n\nThe Lushais of Assam, and Bengal, and the Kukis of Manipur have the\nsame race-characteristics, and probably formed part of the original\nmigration southward. At present the Chins, occupying the hill country\nin the northwest corner of Burma, are slowly pressing northward,\naffecting Manipur. The Chins of the hill-country are quite isolated\nfrom other races. For this reason Buddhism has never reached them.\nLike their kinsmen, the Kachins, they are spirit-worshippers, as were\ntheir other kinsmen, the Burmese, before the introduction of Buddhism.\nThe Chins are divided into several tribes. The northern Chins call\nthemselves \"Yo,\" the Tashons call themselves \"KaKa\"; the middle\ntribes give their names as \"Lai\"; the southern Chins call themselves\n\"Shu.\" Since the annexation of Upper Burma, securing immunity from\noppression by the Burmans many Chins have drifted down from their own\nhill-country and formed agricultural villages in the plains. The Chin\ncountry is about 250 miles long by from 100 to 150 miles wide. It is\nwholly mountainous, the highest peaks being from 5,000 to 9,000 feet.\nLiklang peak, the highest of all, is nearly 10,000 feet. Like all\nspirit-worshippers, the Chins dread the power of demons, and offer to\nthem the same left-handed sort of worship. But their worst enemy is\nof their own manufacture, made by fermenting rice, millet, or corn,\nand called \"Zu.\" The great and wide-spread vice among the Chins is\ndrunkenness. Men, women, children, even babes in arms--all drink and\nglory in intoxication as an accomplishment of which to be proud. No\nact is considered a crime if committed when drunk. Many people I have\nseen in European and American cities must have been Chins. No function\nis complete without liquor. Hospitality is gauged by the number of\ncups of spirit dealt out, and appreciation of it--by the number of\ncups consumed. Again, how like many of their white cousins. \"A man\nshould drink, fight, and hunt, and the portion for women and slaves\nis _work_\"--is both creed and practice. They have a peculiar custom,\nnow dying out, of tattooing the faces of the women, until the whole\nface, from chin to hair--is dyed a purplish black. The reason for this\ncustom is in dispute. Some have asserted that it was to make them\nunattractive to their enemies, especially the Burmans, who frequently\nraided their villages in the foot-hills. Others claim that the\ntattooing was in order to increase their attractiveness to the young\nmen of their own kind. Fortunate indeed were they if this queer custom\nserved the double purpose of repelling enemies and attracting friends.\nTo unaccustomed eyes the tattooed face is hideous in the extreme.\n\nThe first attempt by the British to control any part of the Chin Hills\nwas made in 1859, but was neither continuous nor effective. In 1871\nan expedition was sent into the hills to recover captives, and punish\noffenders. The Chins remained quiet for ten years, then broke out\nagain in repeated raids, from 1882 to 1888. The English were obliged\nto undertake a systematic subjugation of the whole Chin country. This\nwas effected in 1889-90. The expedition met with stubborn resistance,\nby guerilla methods. Many villages were burned by the English, as\nthe only means of subduing the wily enemy. Many villages were burned\nby the Chins themselves. Near one village \"a dog had been killed\nand disemboweled, and tied by its four legs and thus stretched on\na rope suspended between two sticks across the path to the village,\nits entrails being likewise suspended between two other sticks, thus\nbarring the road. Asking the Chins what this might mean, they said\nit was an offering to the war _nat_ to protect their village, and to\nward off our bullets from injuring them.\" The work of subjugation had\nto be continued for some years, before the Chins were made to realize\nthat the English government must be respected. The Hakas and others\nwere disarmed in 1895. The Chin Hills are administered by a political\nofficer at Falam, with a European assistant at other important points,\nas Tiddim and Haka. The morals of these benighted Chins, still further\ndegraded by their drink habit, are what might be expected. Marriages\nare governed by the working-value of the bride, parents expecting\ncompensation for the loss of her services, according to her capacity\nfor work, and \"expectation of life.\" This seems to have been the\ncustom among all races of Burma. It is said that when a Chin wife is\nasked \"Where is your husband?\" she will give the required information\nin case he is living,--but if dead she will reply, \"He is not here,\"\nand expects the subject to be dropped at that. This reminds me of\na Shan girl's answer when I asked her the whereabouts of a former\nresident--\"I don't know,--he is dead.\" The Chins of the foot-hills\nand plains present an encouraging field for missionary work, but\nmissionary work must be pushed with all possible vigour--to forestall\nthe influences of Buddhism. To win them from spirit-worship is hard\nenough, to win them from Buddhism will be very much harder.\n\nThe dialect of the southern Chins has been reduced to writing, and\nis found to be strikingly similar to the Burmese, perhaps half of\nthe words being more or less allied to the Burmese. As the southern\nChins have great difficulty in understanding the speech of the wild\ntribes in the northern hills, it is quite probable that their own\ndialect has been corrupted by contact with the Burmans since their\nmigration to Burma. The Chin dialect of the south is also said to\ncontain many words of Shan origin. This must have come about in the\nsame way, either by contact with Shans on the Upper Chindwin at a\nvery early period, or when the Shans occupied Arracan about eighteen\nyears, towards the end of the tenth century. This later contact seems\nmuch too short to have left a permanent mark on the southern Chin\ndialect. The total number of Animists--demon-worshippers--in Burma,\nChin, Kachin, Karen, and other, is about four hundred thousand. But as\nwe have seen, the Buddhist Burmans, Shans and Talaings, are at core,\ndemon-worshippers, all races having in common practically the same\nsuperstitions.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\nBUDDHISM AS IT IS\n\n\nMuch has been written on Buddhism, besides the translation of the\nBuddhist's sacred books. Little, however, can be learned from books of\nBuddhism as one finds it expressed in the life of the people.\n\nRiding one day with a missionary who had a wide acquaintance with the\nBurmans and their language, I asked him certain questions as to their\nreal belief. His reply was, \"No man can tell, until he finds a way\nto get into the Burman mind.\" The first business of the missionary\nseemed to be then to make every effort to get into the Burman mind;\nto study him; study his religious habits; ascertain if possible, his\npoint of view; learn to see things from his point of view; to know\nwhat there is in him that must be eradicated and supplanted by the\ngospel of Jesus Christ. We see the country fairly alive;--no, _dead_\nwith idols. We see the people kneeling before these idols, and, to\nevery appearance praying. Are they praying? How can they be praying,\ninasmuch as Buddhism knows no God,--does not claim to have a God?\nGautama himself whom all these images represent, never claimed\nto have any power to save others, or even to save himself. These\nworshippers know that he was only a man, that at the age of eighty\nyears he died, that his death was due to an attack of indigestion\n(from eating too much fresh pork), as any other man might die. It\nis supposed that he was born near Benares, about six hundred years\nbefore Christ; that his father was a chief of an Aryan tribe called\nthe Sakyas. From the sacred books they learn that Gautama's early\nlife was spent in dissolute pleasure and luxury common to oriental\nprinces; that after a time becoming dissatisfied with his own manner\nof life and the corrupt conditions around him, he yielded to another\nhis princely prospects, abandoned his wife and child and gave himself\nup to a life of meditation and study under religious teachers; that\nfailing in this to gain the longed-for peace of soul he for several\nyears led a life of the most severe privation and affliction of the\nflesh, until by long continued meditation and self-concentration the\nlight broke in upon him, and he became \"the enlightened one,\"--a\nBuddha. Did he not by this enlightenment become something more than\nman? Not at all. He had learned nothing of God, not even that such a\nbeing existed. He entertained no thought that he himself had acquired\nany supernatural character or power. And so he died. Even the common\npeople of the jungle villages know all this, and yet they prostrate\nthemselves before these images of brass, wood, or stone. Are they\npraying? Perchance their hopes are based on what Gautama became, after\ndeath. According to Buddhism, Gautama had now passed through all the\nnecessary conditions and changes, and entered at once upon the final\nstate, the highest goal of Buddhism, Nirvana, (\"Neikban,\" in Burmese).\n\nHad he now become a God? Not at all. No Buddhist entertains such\na thought. What then is Neikban? \"It means,\" they say, \"the going\nout, like the flame of a candle.\" By a long-continued process of\nself-concentration Gautama is supposed to have become absolutely\noblivious to the world around him, and ultimately to have become\nunconscious even of self. His death is believed to have been utter\nextinction of both physical and spiritual existence. Some deny that\nNeikban is equivalent to annihilation. The best that can be claimed\nfor it is an impossible existence in which there is neither sensation\nnor conscious life.\n\nFittingly they describe it as \"a flame which has been blown out.\"\n\nAccording to Buddhist teachings and current belief Gautama has\ndisappeared, body and soul. Brahmins may talk of being absorbed in the\n\"One Supreme Soul,\" and Theosophists glibly repeat the form of words,\nbut Buddhists claim nothing of the sort. There is no Supreme Soul to\nabsorb them, and no human souls to be absorbed. It is not soul, or\nlife that is perpetuated, but _desire_ merely. Neikban, they declare,\nis the cessation of everything, a condition of unconsciousness,\nlifeless ease, they do not like to say annihilation. Then what are\nthese worshippers doing here on their knees before images which\nrepresent no existing being? surely not praying, for they have \"no\nhope, without God in the world\"; no being higher than themselves to\nwhom prayer could be addressed; no expectation of blessing of any sort\nfrom any supernatural source; absolutely nothing in their religious\nconceptions or experience corresponding to the communion between the\nChristian and his God.\n\nThere is no such thing as real prayer in the whole Buddhist system.\nWhat, then, are they doing? Here comes in the system of \"merit\" on\nwhich Buddhism is built. An instinctive sense of guilt and impending\npenalty is universal. Having no Saviour--man must save himself.\n\nFrom what? Not from sin, as violation of the laws of a Holy Being, but\nfrom their train of evil consequences to himself.\n\n[Illustration: WORSHIPERS]\n\nThe chief tenets of Buddhism are: (1) Misery is the inevitable\nconsequence of existence. (2) Misery has its source in desire. (3)\nMisery can be escaped only by the extinction of desire. (4) Desire\ncan be extinguished only by becoming wholly unconscious of the world\nand of self. (5) He who attains to such unconsciousness attains to\nNeikban. (6) Evil actions constitute demerit. Good actions constitute\nmerit.\n\nIn this deeply grounded belief as to merit and demerit lies the secret\nof much that we see in the life of the people. _Now_ we know what\nthese people are doing,--they are seeking to _accumulate merit_ by\nrepeating over and over again a certain formula, or portions of their\n\"Law\" with their faces towards the,--to them,--sacred pagoda or idol.\n\nBut no Buddhist expects to attain to Neikban at the end of this\nexistence. He realizes that it is utterly hopeless for him to think of\nfulfilling the conditions. But he cherishes the groundless hope that\nin some future existence under more favourable conditions he may be\nable to accumulate sufficient merit, though he cannot now. This belief\npresupposes the doctrine of transmigration, or metempsychosis.\n\nThe Buddhist believes that he has passed through countless existences\nin the past,--whether as man, animal, or insect, or all many times\nover, he knows not; finally, birth into this world as man. He dies\nonly to be reborn into this or another world,--whether as man, animal,\nor insect he knows not; then death again, and so through countless\nages. Even Gautama himself is said to have passed through five hundred\nand fifty different phases of existence, including long ages in hell,\nbefore he finally entered this world as man, and became a Buddha.\n\nAlthough Buddhism has no God, and no heaven, it has a very vivid\nconception of hell, yes,--eight of them, surrounded by over forty\nthousand lesser hells,--their terrors limited only by the limitations\nof the imagination. But no man can escape--the doctrine of Karma\nsettles that. A man's own words and deeds pursue him relentlessly, and\nthere is no city of refuge to which he may flee. \"Not in the heavens,\nnot in the midst of the sea, not if thou hidest thyself in the clefts\nof the mountains, will thou find a place where thou mayest escape\nthe force of thy own evil actions.\" So say their scriptures, and so\nevery Buddhist believes. Hell is the inevitable penalty of many deeds\nor accidents, such as the killing of the smallest insect under foot.\nBetween the Buddhist and his hopeless hope of Neikban yawns this awful\ngulf of existences and sufferings.\n\n\"Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap,\" gives the gist of\nBuddhism. He is now reaping from past existences; he will reap in the\nnext from his deeds in this. In the past each succeeding existence\ndepended upon the last previous existence. In like manner, what the\nnext existence shall be depends wholly upon the deeds of this life.\n\nSo the countless series of transmigrations may be, theoretically,\nin the ascending or descending scale. But when the awful penalties\nassigned to innumerable and unavoidable violations of the Buddhist\nlaw are taken into consideration all hope of future existences in the\nascending scale vanishes. The poor fisherman, beginning at the very\nbottom of the lowest of the four chief hells must spend countless ages\nin each, before he can hope to be reborn as man.\n\nThe man who unwittingly puts his foot on the smallest insect and\ncrushes out its life must atone for the deed by spending a long\nperiod in torment. Taking the life of any living thing, even to the\nkilling of poisonous snakes, is held to be the worst of all sins. The\npriests, to avoid the possibility of destroying insect life, use a\nbrass strainer finely perforated, to cleanse their drinking water, in\nblissful ignorance of the microbe theory. A native preacher once asked\nme to get him a microscope so that he might prove to the priests that\nnotwithstanding their precautions they were drinking to themselves\nperdition.\n\nHis motive may have been in part, to convince them as to the futility\nof their hope, and in part to get even with them for their harsh\ncriticisms of \"animal-killing Christians.\"\n\nA story told by one of our native preachers vividly illustrates\nthis dread of future punishment. \"I had been preaching for about\ntwo hours to a large company in a jungle-village. During all this\ntime an old woman was sitting on a log near by, counting off her\nbeads, and devoutly murmuring to herself the customary formula,\n'_Ah-nas-sa, Dok-ka, Ah-nat-ta; Paya, Taya, Thinga,--Radana\nTh\u00f3n-ba_'--'Transitoriness, Misery, Illusions; Lord, Law, Priest,--the\nthree Jewels.' When I had finished I approached her saying: 'Why do\nyou worship so devoutly?' 'To escape the penalty of hell,' she sadly\nreplied. 'So you fear the future,--what is your notion of hell?' 'Oh,\nit is a terrible place. They say it is shaped like a great cauldron,\nand full of burning oil in which people suffer endlessly and are not\nconsumed. And when they try to escape, the evil beings of the place\nthrust them back with sharp forks and spears. Oh, it is a terrible\nplace!' she repeated, fairly trembling as she described its horrors.\n'Yes,' I said. 'You seem to understand it very well. Now what are you\ndoing to escape such an awful fate?' 'Oh, many, many years I have\nworshipped before the pagodas and idols; every day I count my beads\nover and over, repeating the formula, as Gautama directed. Do you\nthink that after all I have done I must still go to hell?' 'Yes,' I\nsaid. 'If that is all you have done, you surely must.' 'Oh, then,\ntell me,' she said in great distress, 'what _can_ I do to escape,\nfor I greatly fear the terrors of that place.' Then sitting there on\nthe log, with this poor old woman on the ground before me, I told the\nblessed gospel story over again, as Jesus Christ did with the woman of\nSamaria. And then I said: 'You must repent of your sins, and confess\nthem to the eternal God. You must believe and trust the Lord Jesus\nChrist, who died to save you. If you do this He will forgive your\nsins, and save you.' Her wrinkled face brightened with hope as she\nexclaimed, 'If I do as you have said, and believe on Jesus Christ,\n_will_ He save me?' 'Yes, He surely will, for He has said, \"Him that\nCometh unto me I will not cast out.\"' On her face was an almost\nheavenly light--as she replied: 'Then _I do_ believe, and I want to\ngo with you that you may tell me about Him until I die.' Her friends\nridiculed her saying, 'Oho! Grandma wants to go off with the preacher.\nShe is becoming foolish in her old age.' 'Oh, no,' she said. 'But the\npreacher has told me how I may escape the penalty of hell, and _I am\nso glad_.'\"\n\nIt has often been asserted that Buddhism has a moral code rivaling, if\nnot superior to that of Christianity. We had not been at our mission\nstation a week before we heard the remark, \"Buddhism is a beautiful\nreligion,--why do the missionaries try to disturb them in their\nbelief?\" That there are noble precepts and commandments all must\nadmit. But he who expects to see their \"beauty\" reflected in the lives\nof the people will be doomed to disappointment. Take the commandment\nalready noticed--\"Thou shalt not take the life of any living thing.\"\n\nThis commandment admits of no exceptions whatever, under any possible\ncircumstances, not even in self-defense; and puts the taking of a\nhuman life and that of the smallest insect in the same category. But\nthe Burmans, among whom Buddhism is found in its purest form, have\nbeen a more or less warlike race from their earliest history, often\npracticing the greatest cruelties. How do they reconcile this with the\nteachings of their law? We will suppose that one man has taken the\nlife of another. According to his own belief and the law of the land,\nhe is a murderer. To free himself from just and inevitable penalty he\nresorts to his doctrine of \"merit,\" by which he may absolve himself\nfrom the demerit of his evil act. The building of a small pagoda of\nsun-dried brick, or the forming of an idol from a portion of his\nfire-wood log will balance the scales, square the account, restore him\nto his former prospects, and to future prospects as bright as though\nhe had kept the whole law. By this convenient belief he may take his\nabsolution into his own hands, and work it out to suit himself. But\nif he be a poor man, unable to perform an adequate work of merit, he\nmust suffer to the full the consequences of his act.\n\nA missionary found a man digging for huge beetles. When one was found\nit was impaled on a sharp stick along with the others, all to go into\nthe curry for the morning meal. Then the following conversation took\nplace: \"Are you not afraid of punishment in hell for killing these\ncreatures?\" \"I shall go there if I do not kill them.\" \"Then you do\nthis because there is no hope for you, whether you take animal life or\nnot?\" \"It is all the same.\" Sins beyond his power to counterbalance by\nmerit had already been committed, until hope had given way to despair.\n\nOne may shoot pigeons in the vicinity of a Buddhist monastery, and\nthen divide with the priest, who anticipates a savoury meal without\nany compunctions of conscience on account of \"aiding and abetting.\"\n\nYoung Burmans are eager to follow the man with the gun, showing him\nthe likeliest place to find game, and when the animal is wounded, will\nrush in and dispatch it with their dahs.\n\nThe fisheries of Burma furnish a livelihood to hundreds of Burmans.\nLarge sums are paid to government annually for the privilege of\ncontrolling certain specified sections of rivers or streams. The\nfisherman makes the taking of animal-life his business and daily\noccupation.\n\nTheoretically he is ranked among the very lowest classes. In real life\nwe find him enjoying the same social position that others of equal\nwealth enjoy. But I do not hesitate to say that this general belief\nthat fearful penalties must be endured in future existences for taking\nanimal-life in this, has a deeper hold on the Buddhist than any other\ncommandment.\n\nTake the commandment: \"Thou shalt speak no false word,\"--strikingly\nlike the Christian's commandment, \"Thou shalt not bear false witness,\"\n\"Lie not one to another.\" One would naturally expect to find among\nthe devotees of a system containing such a commandment some value\nplaced upon one's word of honour. But if truthfulness has ever been\ndiscovered among non-Christian Burmans, the discovery has never been\nreported. But we have not far to search to find the secret of this\ngeneral lack of any regard for truthfulness.\n\nThe same \"Sacred Book\" that sets forth the commandment, \"Thou thalt\nspeak no false word,\" gives this definition of falsehood: A statement\nconstitutes a _lie_ when discovered by the person to whom it is told,\nto be untrue! See what latitude such a definition gives. Deceit is at\na premium. Children grow up with no higher standard of honour than\na belief that the sin of falsehood and fraud lies entirely in its\ndiscovery. Is it any wonder that these people have become expert in\nthe art. It is the common practice among themselves,--in business, in\nfamily life, in match-making, and most of all, in their dealings with\nforeigners. No European (after the first year) places the slightest\nreliance upon the most emphatic promise of a heathen Burman. In fact,\nthe more emphatic the promise, the greater seems to be the temptation\nto do just the other thing. It may have been this inbred trait that\nled the schoolboy to translate \"Judge not, that ye be not judged,\" by\n\"Do no justice, lest justice be done to you.\"\n\nWhen it is remembered that deceit and fraud are national vices, bred\nin the bone for centuries, it is not to be marvelled at that native\nChristians, only a step from heathenism, are sometimes found deficient\nin their sense of honour. Here is an illustration in point. A young\nBurman wanted to become a Christian. He became a regular attendant at\nchapel services, and finally asked for baptism. This greatly enraged\nhis heathen wife, who proceeded to make his life most miserable.\nShe tore around, screamed, pulled her own hair, and made things\ninteresting generally. She got possession of his box containing his\nbest clothing and other valuables, and would neither give it back to\nhim nor live any longer with him unless he would promise to break\nwith the Christians, and cease attending their worship. The young man\nappealed to his uncle. The uncle's advice was: \"You go and tell your\nwife that you will have nothing more to do with the Christians. You\ncannot recover your property in any other way. When you have regained\npossession of your box, come back to us, and then we will baptize\nyou.\" So far as he then knew, the end justified the means. Take the\ncommandment: \"Thou shalt commit no immoral act,\"--an ideal precept\nin itself, but standing for little more than a joke when inscribed\non the banner of any non-Christian people. The Burman is perhaps\nsuperior, morally, to some other races of this country, yet his moral\nsense is very low. Among middle-aged people marriage seems to be an\nactual institution, and family life well guarded. Separations are\ncomparatively few. Conditions of life in the tropics are such that the\nyoung are subject to temptations sad to contemplate. Heathen parents\nfreely discuss subjects in the presence of their children that never\nwould be mentioned before them in a Christian home. Missionaries'\nchildren often startle their parents by repeating what never should\nhave come to their ears. It seems a wonder that moral character exists\nat all among the young. That many do set a high value upon virtue no\nunprejudiced observer of native life can doubt. Jealousy plays a large\npart in early separations, and with sufficient cause. Both may find\nother partners of their joys on the day following.\n\nAmong all races there are certain laws and social customs that\nin large measure restrain evil practices. Even among the heathen\na certain value is placed upon one's social standing in the\ncommunity,--which has greater weight than the commandment against\nimmorality, in his \"law.\" An educated Burman once said to me--\"Burmans\ndo not take much account of sin, but they do not like to lose their\nrespectability.\"\n\nOther commandments, such as those directed against \"love of the\nworld,\" and \"love of money,\" seem to be honoured more in the breach\nthan in the observance. The Burmans are notoriously the proudest,\ngayest people on the face of the earth. They enjoy a good time and\nwill have it, whatever the occasion. There is little of real religious\nsignificance in their so-called religious gatherings. A display\nof fine clothes, a few presents for the priests; some of the more\ndevout, especially the elderly women, worshipping before the shrine.\nBut a large majority will be found sitting in the \"zayats\" talking\nfamiliarly among themselves, painting the ground below red with\n_kun_-juice by spitting through cracks in the floor, and never going\nnear the pagodas or idols at all. The Buddhists are proud of their\n\"law,\" and lay great stress upon it for purposes of argument. But as\nwe have seen, either from their low moral sense, or their dependence\non works of merit, the \"law\" has little effect on the lives of the\npeople.\n\nWe visited that most famous worship-place of the Buddhists, the Shwe\nDagon pagoda, and for the first time saw heathenism as it is. We\nhad read \"The Light of Asia\"; and heard theosophists talk glibly of\n\"Mahatmas\" whose wisdom is more ancient and profound than anything in\nthe religious literature of the West.\n\nBut here we saw the yellow-robed, \"Light of Asia\" (more fittingly\ncalled the \"Blight of Asia\") and the graven image, both representing\ntheir annihilated Buddha, seemingly equal in intelligence, and\nsharing together the superstitious worship of the common people. Up\nthe long ascent to the pagoda is a covered way, its brick or flagged\nsteps hollowed out by the tramp, tramp of thousands on thousands of\nbarefooted worshippers, extending over many, many years.\n\n[Illustration: A KAREN FAMILY]\n\n[Illustration: BUDDHIST IDOL]\n\nGuarding the approach are two horrible griffins, the first suggestion\nof the superstitious mind of these benighted people. On either side\nof the stairway are sellers of artificial flowers, paper streamers,\ncandles, and other things used as offerings, each worshipper stopping\nto invest in whatever he thinks will gain for him the greatest amount\nof merit at the least possible cost. This great pagoda itself 1,350\nfeet in circumference, tapering in graceful curves to a height of\n328 feet, is entirely covered with gold leaf. It is said that the\npagoda has been regilded several times, at fabulous cost. But this\ndoes not seem so wonderful when one recalls that the Parliament of\nReligions witnessed the regilding of the entire Buddhist system.\n\nThis lofty spire is surmounted by a _htee_ or umbrella ornamented with\ngems and gold said to be valued at about $200,000. The htee has been\nrenewed several times, by different kings, each striving to outdo all\nothers. The present htee was placed there in 1871, by Mindon Min.\nThe space around the base of the pagoda, protected by a parapet,\nand flagged with stone or cement, accommodates a large throng of\nworshippers. Hither pilgrimages are made every year from all parts of\nBurma. Besides the four large idols built into the base of the pagoda\nfar out of sight, as in all pagodas, there are many auxiliary shrines\ndeeply recessed into the base, dimly lighted by tiny candles, and\ncontaining gilded or alabaster images of Gautama. Still other shrines\nhave been erected at the outer circumference of the floor space. Huge\nbells are suspended between posts, near the floor.\n\nThe largest, cast in 1842, is fourteen feet high, seven and a half\nin diameter, with sides fifteen inches in thickness, weighs 94,682\npounds. It is said that when this bell was cast, quantities of gold,\nsilver and copper were thrown in as offerings. After the second\nBurmese war, the English undertook to carry this bell away as a\ncurio, but by some accident it fell into the river. The Burmans\nafterwards recovered it and put it again in its place,--a marvellous\nfeat, considering their rude appliances.\n\nIntensely interesting is all this when seen for the first time; but\ninexpressibly saddening when one stops to reflect what it all stands\nfor. One is forcibly reminded of its terrible significance by groups\nof worshippers kneeling before these shrines, mumbling hurriedly\nthrough their so-called prayers, prostrating themselves repeatedly\nto the ground. After going through his prayers and prostrations the\nworshipper goes to the bell and strikes it with the end of a heavy\npiece of wood, kept there for the purpose. The attention of gods and\nmen must be called to the fact that he has performed a certain amount\nof merit-earning worship. \"Thou shalt have no other gods before me.\nThou shalt not make unto thee any graven image nor any likeness of\nanything that is in heaven above or that is in the earth beneath;\nthou shalt not bow down to them nor serve them.\" What new meaning\nthat commandment had for us, as we saw it violated before our eyes!\nIdolatry seemed even darker than it had been painted.\n\nPagodas may be seen all over Burma, single or in groups; of all sizes\nfrom the less pretentious structure in the jungle-village, to the\ngreat Shwe Dagon in Rangoon, with its umbrella-top 328 feet in the\nair. These pagodas, modelled after the dagobas of Ceylon, are all of\nthe same general shape, resembling the bottom half of a child's top,\ninverted. They occupy the most conspicuous places, on nearly every\nhilltop, on points jutting out into the rivers, and near the chief\nhighways. The more important were built over some supposed relic of\nGautama, such as a tooth or a hair. These pagodas are considered much\nmore sacred than those that were built for merit only.\n\nThe Shwe Dagon pagoda, most famous of all Buddhist shrines, is said to\nhave been built over relics of four Buddhas, including eight hairs of\nGautama. The Shwe Hmaw Daw pagoda at Pegu, erected by the Talaings,\nclaims a tooth of Gautama. The Shwe San Daw pagoda at Toungoo has a\ndifferent history. A Burman prince, Tabin Shwe' Htee, when born had\none long red hair standing out from the top of his head. This was\na sure indication of an embryonic Buddha. In his honour the great\npagoda was erected, and called the \"Golden Hair Pagoda.\" The Maha Myat\nMoonee pagoda at Mandalay, commonly known as the \"Arracan Pagoda\" is\nsecond only to the Shwe Dagon, in the esteem of Upper Burmans. In\nA. D., 146, the King of Arracan cast a great brass image\nof Gautama, which became famous for its supposed miraculous powers.\nIn A. D., 1784, the king of Burma, having conquered other\nparts of the country, and secured about everything he wanted, turned\nlonging eyes towards Arracan and the far-famed image. This great\nimage, twelve feet high, though cast in a sitting posture,--was\nbrought over the mountains and deposited at the Arracan pagoda in a\nlarge building specially prepared for it, north of Amarapura. Not\na smile disturbs the settled calm on its face as the visitor reads\nthe inscription setting forth that the image was drawn here by the\n\"charm of the king's piety.\" But from other sources we learn that his\npiety found expression in a war of conquest, of which this image was\none of the coveted fruits. Its importation over the mountains was a\nwonderful feat. Little wonder that Burmans think it was accomplished\nby supernatural help.\n\nA few miles north of Mandalay is the great Mingon pagoda, begun in\n1790, and never finished. It is four hundred feet square at the base,\nand was to have been carried up to a height of five hundred feet, but\nwork was suspended when it had reached about one third of its intended\nheight, the country already having become seriously impoverished.\n\nIn 1839 an earthquake split it from top to bottom. No one mourned\nthe seeming disaster, for no king could gain the \"royal merit\" by\ncompleting the work of another. As it is, this Mingon pagoda is said\nto be the largest pile of brick and mortar in the world.\n\nThe largest bell in Burma, weighing between eighty and ninety tons,\nand second in size to the great bell at Moscow, cast to match the\nimmense pagoda, is still to be seen near the ruins. This bell is\neighteen feet high, seventeen in diameter, and a foot and a half in\nthickness. It now rests on the ground, having long ago proved too\nheavy for its supports.\n\nPagodas are not temples. There is no open interior for a worship\nplace. The worshipping is done in the open space around the pagoda, or\nin the idol-houses, the real temples.\n\nThe first pagoda was probably built at the close of the fourth century\nor even later; though Buddhists refer it to a much earlier date.\nThe sacred books of Buddhism were brought to Burma about 397 A.\nD., according to the best authorities.\n\nBefore the introduction of Buddhism the Burmans and Talaings, like\nall other races around them, were spirit-worshippers. They knew no\ngods but _nats_, spirits with supernatural powers. The reigning king\nbecame a convert to the new religion, built a pagoda, and issued a\nroyal decree that all his subjects should worship it, death being\nthe penalty of refusal. The king's edict failing to accomplish its\npurpose, he cunningly commanded that a _nat-sin_ or spirit-house be\nbuilt near the pagoda. The transition from the worship of invisible\nnats to the worship of the more tangible pagoda was natural and\ninevitable.\n\n\"It was by a strange irony of fate,\" says Sir Monier Williams, \"that\nthe man who denied any God or any being higher than himself, and told\nhis followers to look to themselves for salvation, should have been\nnot only deified and worshipped, but represented by more images than\nany other being ever idolized in any part of the world.\"\n\nDharmapala, who represented Buddhism at the Parliament of Religions,\nsaid: \"A system in which our whole being, past, and present, and to\ncome, depends on ourselves, theoretically, leaves little room for the\ninterference or even existence of a personal God.\" It really leaves no\nroom at all, and its founder plainly said so. Buddhism is a worship of\nancestors, of which Gautama holds a monopoly.\n\nAs we have seen, at the advent of Buddhism the worship of evil\nspirits, by propitiatory sacrifice, prevailed throughout Burma, among\nall races. It is not to be supposed that the adoption of Buddhism\ndispelled these superstitions. Spirit-worship is still the religion,\nif it can be called a religion,--of the non-Christian Karens, Chins,\nKachins, and other non-Buddhist races. When Buddhism was adopted\nby the Talaings, Burmans, and Shans, bloody sacrifice involving\nthe taking of animal-life, had to be abandoned. But to this day\npropitiatory offerings of rice, fruit, or flowers, are made to the\nspirits as before. \"Animism supplies the solid constituents,\" says a\nrecent writer, \"that hold the faith together, Buddhism the superficial\npolish. The Burman has added to his Animism just so much of Buddhism\nas suits him, and with infantile inconsequence draws solace from each\nin turn.\" Spirit-worship is his every-day religion, Buddhism for\nspecial occasions. Two illustrations will suffice to show how strong\na hold superstition still has upon the people. A harmless lunatic\nhad wandered through the streets for years. No one seemed to know\nthe cause, but his reason, what little he ever possessed, had been\ndethroned, leaving him to wander about homeless and friendless. For\nhis living he had to compete with the pariah dogs in the common effort\nto exist on what the people chanced to cast into the street after\nfinishing their meals. One of the priests, thinking to gain notoriety\nas well as more substantial favours, declared that this man was a case\nof demoniacal possession. This was nothing new, for it is the common\nbelief that _nats_ are responsible for disordered minds, sickness,\nand other calamities. But the priest further suggested that the nat\nthat had taken up his abode in this man be exorcised by drowning\nhim out. A company of Burmans assembled, secured the demoniac, and\nheaded by the priest and tom-toms, proceeded to the river. The poor\ndemoniac, filthy, naked and with matted hair,--a picture of abject\nhelplessness,--was led by a rope to,--he knew not what. Several of\nthe men took the poor creature in a boat to the middle of the river,\nand threw him overboard. When he tried to regain the boat they\nthrust him off with their bamboo poles. When he became exhausted and\nwater-logged they would rescue him, only to throw him in again after\na brief breathing spell. This was repeated for several days in the\npresence of the would-be wonder-worker, to the deafening sound of the\ntom-toms. It is needless to add that he continued to roam the streets,\nin the same condition as before. At one time when out on a tour among\njungle-villages a native Christian called my attention to a large\nbanyan-tree by the roadside. Up on one of the higher branches was a\nlarge gnarl, which, by a long stretch of the imagination slightly\nresembled a human face. The tree was standing there before the oldest\ninhabitant was born.\n\nThe gnarl was a peculiar growth of many years. One day a passer-by\nnoticed a fancied resemblance to a human face, and spread the story\nthat the tree was haunted,--that it was the abode of a _nat_. Of\ncourse the superstitious and gullible people believed it. A _zayat_\nwas quickly built under the tree; many brought offerings of rice,\nfruit, and flowers, and all who passed by that tree bowed down to\nworship that big knot on the limb. The dread of evil spirits is the\nbane of existence. There is constant fear lest some real or fancied\nlack of respect paid to the nats will bring some kind of disaster.\n\n_Nagas_ are the most feared of all. There are several different\nkinds of _nagas_. Some live under water, others on land. They are\ndragon-like reptiles, \"fearsome\" and terribly dreaded by old and\nyoung. When a man is drowning it is because a naga is drawing him\ndown. Does a man sink and not reappear, a naga has got him sure.\nOn-lookers fear to go to the rescue. But there is one great naga,\nmost dreaded of all, so long that it encircles the earth, which to\nthe native mind, is as flat as a pancake. This monster is constantly\nmoving forward, so that the position of its head is ever changing. But\nfortunately the astrologers have discovered that its progress in its\norbit is regular, and the location of its head may be known, according\nto season of the year, a full year being required for the circuit.\nEvery Burman knows in what direction is the awful naga's head at a\ngiven season. No love nor money will tempt them to travel through the\njungle in that direction, in unfamiliar territory.\n\nNaga-worship once prevailed in northern India. Whether imported into\nBurma, or also existing in Burma before the introduction of Indian\ninfluences in the north, is not known. But up to the eleventh century\nnaga-worship was the most conspicuous feature in the observances of\nboth spirit-worshippers and nominal Buddhists. Even now it is not\nuncommon to hear a Burman, suffering from some calamity or disease,\nlamenting that he has in some way brought disaster to himself by\nunwillingly offending the great naga. Once it was my good fortune to\nprofit by their superstitious notions. Having rented a native house as\ntemporary quarters, I learned soon after moving in, that it had the\nreputation of being haunted. Spirits of certain \"dacoits\" who came to\na sudden death in a jail that formerly stood near by, were supposed\nto frequent the place. From that time on I could sleep in perfect\nsecurity against all thought of prowling thieves. No fear that any\nnative would come near that house after dark. Buddhism a \"Beautiful\nReligion\"? That it has many noble precepts no one will deny. The same\nis true of every system of philosophy ever formulated. But at its\nbest it furnishes no incentive to righteous living, beyond one's own\nself-interest. It offers no help or hope whatever, beyond one's own\nunaided efforts. If man cannot save himself he must stay where he is,\nor be sinking lower, ever lower.\n\nBuddhism, as seen in the life of the people, is _rotten to the core_.\nWe have seen how its adherents craftily seek to evade the precepts\nand commandments of their \"law,\" so far as possible; and then to\nbalance their evil doings by works of merit. The priests prey upon\nthe superstitions of their people, and grow fat. If offerings to\nthe monastery do not come in so freely as desired the wily priest\nconveniently has a remarkable dream, in which a nat reveals to him\nthat terrible calamities will befall the people if they do not\nincrease their zeal.\n\nThis invariably has the desired effect. There is a general hustling\nthroughout the jurisdiction of the monastery; and soon the greedy\npriests are fairly swamped with presents of plantains, rice,\ncocoanuts, etc.\n\nAt Kyankse there is a very steep hill, with several pagodas at the\ntop. A missionary relates that he there \"met an aged man who, to gain\nmerit, climbs to the summit every day carrying two pots of water\n(about seventy pounds) for the use of the people who may come to\nworship there. He had a writing from the Buddhist priest, assuring\nhim that a Buddha was about to appear, and if he continued in this\nmeritorious work for seven years he would see the Buddha, and be\nrewarded.\"\n\nThe priest, in order to secure a regular supply of water, had\ndeliberately duped this simple old man. And yet, as a work of merit,\nhis daily task had a certain value, according to Buddhist teaching.\n\nThe utter powerlessness of Buddhism to meet the needs of the human\nheart forced itself upon me when first I witnessed one of their\nfunerals.\n\nA rich Burman jeweller, living near our chapel, died of old age. One\nof his sons occupied a high official position. Of course the funeral\nmust be a grand affair. We reached the place just as the procession\nwas forming. First, there were four men bearing a bamboo frame on\nwhich was an artificial tree, four feet high, its branches wound with\nbright coloured paper. From the ends of the branches silver coins\nwrapped in paper, were suspended. This money was to buy offerings for\nthe pagodas. Fifty-six men in squads of four, carried bamboo frames\non which were piled gifts for the priests, consisting of mats, rugs,\nchinaware, lacquered-ware, lamps, etc. There were fourteen of these\nframes, being one each for fourteen priests. Four coolies, each\ncarrying on his shoulder a bamboo pole from which were suspended\njackets and skirts to be given to the poor. A double line of men with\nslender strips of bamboo covered with showy paper, held upright like\nso many spears. Then came the procession proper, headed by one of the\nrich relations carrying a lacquer vessel filled with copper coin. Four\ncoolies carrying two Burmese drums, suspended from bamboo poles. Two\nlittle boys fantastically dressed, danced before the drums, turning\naround in a solemn, but graceful manner, and at each turn striking the\ndrums with their fists.\n\nThen the mourners and friends, two daughters being dressed in white,\nwith handkerchiefs tied round their heads as hair-bands. The coffin,\ncovered with gold leaf, tinsel, and mirror glass, was elevated on a\nframework, about ten feet above the four-wheeled cart on which the\nframework rested. Above the coffin were several roof-like projections,\none above another forming a pyramid, surmounted by a spire twenty feet\nhigh. Framework and spire were covered with showy paper and tinsel\nin artistic designs, and adorned with flags. The cart was drawn and\npushed along by as many men as could get around it, long streamers of\nwhite cloth or ropes extending forward to the friends in front. Next\nto the bier was an ox-cart with the Burman band, or tom-toms. One man\nwas blowing on an instrument resembling a large-mouthed flageolet,\nfrom which issued a tuneless succession of weird sounds,--music to\ntheir ears, no doubt,--but most melancholy to ours. Another was\nsitting inside of a low circular frame with small drums arranged in\na semicircle, each producing a different sound. Behind the cart was\na man with the cymbals, which he manipulated with marvellous skill,\nthough the vibratory sounds and clangour were excruciating in the\nextreme to sensitive nerves. On another cart, under a canopy of red\nand white cloth was another coffin more elaborately decorated, but\nempty, merely for pomp and show, or to fool the evil spirits. If in\nthe extra coffin the consequences of a man's evil deeds, together with\n_desire_, which constitutes the germ of the next existence, could also\nbe buried, it would be the _ne plus ultra_ of hope to the Buddhist.\n\nThen followed several \"gharries\" with well-to-do acquaintances of the\nfamily. As the procession moved slowly along the man with the pot\nof copper coin now and then threw a handful forward into the crowd\nof poor children, and oh what a scramble! The priests had already\ngathered at the \"zayat\" in the cemetery to receive the expected\nofferings. Had they been present at the bedside to minister some\nhope to the dying man who was about to pass out into the awful dark?\nNot at all, for the priest is supposed to be passing through the\nprocess of crushing out all natural feeling. He must not show that\nhe is influenced in the least by death-bed scenes. Did they minister\nconsolation to the sorrowing ones? Not at all, for the priest is\nnot supposed to feel the least sympathy with sorrow and distress.\nTo \"Rejoice with them that rejoice, and weep with them that weep\"\nis not in all his thoughts. He came not to minister, but to be\nministered unto,--a complete reversal of the Christian principle. So\nat the funeral he offers no consolation, but expects to be himself\nconsoled, very substantially. At the cemetery he sits in the zayat\non his elevated platform, chewing and spitting _kun_--the picture\nof indolence and indifference. After the burial the afflicted\nones, sorrowing without hope, with hearts bleeding as even heathen\nhearts can bleed, come and prostrate themselves before the priests,\nworshipping them in their very despair. But the priests seem neither\nto see nor to hear. Their minds from which \"love of the world\" has\nbeen well-nigh extinguished (!) are intent upon the rich presents with\nwhich their monastery is being filled.\n\nDoubtless there are priests, especially the aged, who are sincerely\nstriving to keep the \"law\" in spirit as well as in letter. But the\nvery spirit of the law is selfishness.\n\nThe Buddhist sacred books were a gradual but abnormal growth. They\ncontain comparatively little of the actual teachings of Gautama,\nbut a vast deal that Gautama would not have sanctioned. Marvellous\nstories have grown up around the memory of Gautama, whom the people\nof his time regarded as a \"religious hero, rather than a god.\" The\nmost absurdly extravagant statements as to time, dimensions, space,\nand numbers, are found in these stories. Imagination has run riot in\nfabricating accounts of impossible miracles performed by Gautama.\n\nModern geography, if seriously taken into account by Buddhists, would\nstampede the whole Buddhist system. And yet these millions, given over\nto \"believe a lie,\" accept it all without a question.\n\nThe Buddhist scriptures are divided into three main divisions.\n\nThe first is addressed to the priests, and contains rules governing\ntheir life, duties and habits. The second is addressed to the laity;\nthe third to the _dewas_ and Brahmas in the worlds of _nats_.\n\nIt is claimed that the first council to settle the sacred canon\nwas held in the year 543 B. C., in India; that the law\nwas rehearsed from memory, but not committed to writing; that the\nsecond council was held in 443 B. C., when the law was again\nrehearsed, but not committed to writing; that the third and last\ncouncil, held in 241 B. C., and continuing nine months,\nsettled many questions in dispute; and furnished the stimulus of a\ngreat Buddhist missionary enterprise. Authorities differ as to the\ndates of these councils. Dr. Judson held that the Buddhist scriptures\nin their present form were not completed until four hundred and\nfifty-eight years after Gautama's death.\n\nWere it possible for any human being to keep the law outlined in the\nsacred books of Buddhism, and thereby attain to its goal, _Neikban_,\nit might be said: \"The gift of Gautama is eternal death.\" How\ndifferent from the central truth in the Christian religion--\n\n\"The gift of God is eternal life.\" To make this known to the nations\nthat sit in darkness, rests as a privilege and responsibility upon the\nChristian church.\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\nBURMA'S OUTCASTS\n\n\nAdmirers of Buddhism assert its superiority over Hinduism in that\nBuddhism has no caste system. In all ages and in all lands there has\nbeen, in real life, a sharp social distinction between the rich and\nthe poor. This is inevitable, so long as unsanctified human nature\nholds sway. Burma furnishes no exception to the rule. But while\nBuddhist Burma has no caste system, involving contamination to one\ncaste by contact with another; or social degradation by departing from\ncaste-rules,--Burma has her outcasts.\n\nThere are five classes of outcasts, namely:--former pagoda-slaves\nand their descendants; the grave-diggers; the lepers; the beggars;\nand the deformed or maimed. Apostates from the Ancestral religion\nmight be added as a sixth class. Slavery existed in Burma before the\nintroduction of Buddhism. When the pagoda spires of the new religion\nbegan to multiply throughout the land somebody must be found to take\ncare of the pagoda-grounds. Existing slaves were not available for\nthat purpose, for they had been apportioned to the service of the\nking, and others in high life. Prisoners taken in war; life-convicts;\nand others who had incurred the displeasure of the king were drawn\nupon to meet the fresh and ever-increasing demand. Princely captives\nand their followers are said to have been condemned to lifelong\ndrudgery as pagoda slaves, with all of their descendants forever,\nwhile the world should last. As Pagan was the first great centre\nof Buddhism in Upper Burma, there it was that this form of slavery\noriginated.\n\nBuddhism of the southern type was taken to Pagan in the eleventh\ncentury. The pagodas of Thatone were duplicated. One after another\nwas built, until an area eight miles long by two miles wide along the\nriver was literally covered with pagodas, far surpassing any city in\nthe world in the extent of its religious structures.\n\nPagan ceased to be a capital in the fourteenth century, and its\nwonderful pagodas and temples were left to go to ruin. But the\nking's decree was perpetuated in all other important centres, until\nthe British Indian Government annexed the country, and put an end\nto compulsory slavery. Besides the descendants of the original\npagoda-slaves, others were added by successive kings, whether\nas punishment for crime, or by arbitrary selection of obnoxious\nvillages or families. Once a slave always a slave. Posterity was\ndoomed before it was born. Not only was there no possible release\nfrom this inexorable law, but the common people came to regard the\npagoda-slaves as a class under a curse. Terrible sins of a former\nexistence must have brought this great calamity upon them. Their touch\nwas contaminating. Shunned and spurned at every point they became a\ncommunity of outcasts, living by themselves, and existing on such\nofferings to the idols as could be rescued from the dogs and crows.\nUnder British rule this form of slavery has nominally ceased to exist.\nBut no law of a civilized government could restore the pagoda-slave or\nhis descendants to equal social standing with their neighbours. They\nare outcasts still, and outcasts they will remain, until Buddhism is\nno more.\n\nClimb the long covered stairway leading to the Shwe Dagon pagoda,\nor other of the more sacred shrines, you will find your path lined\nwith sellers of offerings, paper \"prayers,\" candles, and other things\nused at pagoda-worship. These sellers, with rare exceptions, are\ndescendants of former pagoda-slaves, free in the eye of the law, but\nin slavery still to the unchangeable customs of Burman Buddhists.\nOther Burmans will not employ them, even to perform the tasks of the\ncommon Indian coolie.\n\nDo they go to some distant place where they are not known, and there\nattain wealth and social position, the first intimation that they are\nof the old pagoda-slave stock mercilessly consigns them again to their\nformer condition as shunned outcasts.\n\nCompanions in social degradation are the \"Thu-bah-yah-zahs\" or\ngrave-diggers. Every Burman burial ground has its little community of\nthu-bah-yah-zahs, living apart from their fellow-men. Each community\nhas its head-man, who makes the bargain when a grave is to be dug.\n\nThere is usually a fixed price for this work. But when a grave is\nto be dug for one who has met a violent death the price is gauged\nby the age of the individual. Violent deaths are windfalls to the\ngrave-diggers.\n\nThe grave is filled in the presence of the friends, who consider it a\nmark of respect to tarry until the work is done. But it is well-known\nthat the grave-diggers do not hesitate to exhume a body the following\nnight if the clothing in which it was buried, or other objects placed\nin the coffin makes it worth the trouble. The coin in the mouth of the\ncorpse, for the ferry-fare over the mystic river, is abstracted with\ncallous indifference to the future state of the deceased.\n\nAs in the case of pagoda-slaves, the grave-diggers were devoted\nto this degrading service by a decree of the king. Some say that\ndescendants of pagoda-slaves have swelled their numbers. Beggars and\nlepers are permitted to live in their villages. Misery loves company.\nBirds of a feather flock together. A rich thu-bah-yah-zah in Mandalay\nhad an attractive daughter. Anxious to emancipate her from the doom of\nher class he offered three thousand rupees ($1,000) to any respectable\nman who would marry her, and take her away where she would not be\nknown. Ten times the amount of his generous offer would have been no\ntemptation. There is also a distinct beggar-class, of practically the\nsame origin as the pagoda-slave and grave-diggers,--condemned by the\nking to a life of beggary. Forbidden to engage in any self-supporting\nwork, they could be drawn upon at any time to fill a lack in either of\nthe other classes. This was sometimes for suspected disloyalty. Few\nhad need to become lifelong beggars because of abject poverty, for a\nrespectable Burman, though poor, is able to exist in this fruitful\nland without leaving his own village. Neither the aged nor the\norphaned are driven out to beg or starve. These unfortunates did not\nbecome beggars because they were outcasts, but became outcasts because\nthey were made beggars, not of choice, but by royal decree.\n\nTrue to his creed, the Burman then heaped upon the victim all the\nblame for his calamity. He is only reaping in this life what he sowed\nin some former existence. Therefore, he and his descendants forever\nare to be despised, and compelled to remain beggars, whatever their\nactual condition. Some of this beggar class are known to have become\nwealthy, but wealth secures to them no social standing. Outcasts they\nare, and outcasts they must remain.\n\nIt has become a deeply-rooted suspicion among these people themselves\nthat unless they go out and beg at least once a year, some disaster\nwill befall them. The children of none of these outcast classes are\npermitted to enter the monastic or other schools.\n\nThe admission of one child of outcast parentage, however bright and\nrespectable he may be, would stampede any school. This superstitious\ncontempt of outcasts is so deep-rooted and universal that managers of\nnon-Buddhist schools do not find it wise to ignore it.\n\nStrange to say, the deformed and the maimed are held in abhorrence,\nand blamed for their misfortune. The disciples asked--\"Who sinned,\nthis man or his parents, that he should be born blind?\" One day\nwhile my train was waiting at a station, a poor woman, armless from\nher birth, came by the open window of my compartment, and stopped\nfor alms. When she had passed out of hearing, I said to a heathen\nBurman standing by, \"How pitiful!\" Without any show of compassion he\nunknowingly repeated the old-time question--\"Because of whose sin\nwas she born in that condition?\" That she was under a curse he had no\ndoubt. No pity is wasted on a person who is born blind, deformed, or\nheir to loathsome disease. He is only getting what he deserves, in\nthis life, and nothing can he hope for but ages in one of the lowest\nhells hereafter.\n\nWith such a belief, is it any wonder that Buddhists never found\nasylums or hospitals, or attempt any organized system of relief for\nthe unfortunate. It is of no use to fight against Fate,--let Fate\nclaim her own. It is said that census enumerators in some sections did\nnot consider old men and women worth counting, because they were past\nwork; priests and nuns, because they had renounced the world; lunatics\nand cripples, because they were below the level of human beings.\n\nSo great is the dread of becoming a cripple that a Burman would sooner\ndie than have a limb amputated. Better to die respectably than be a\nliving disgrace to himself and his family. This feeling extends even\nto post-mortem examinations, as dooming one to some lower condition in\nthe next existence.\n\nLeprosy, in whatever age or country, seems the most pitiable of all\ncalamities. \"And the leper in whom the plague is, his clothing shall\nbe rent, and the hair of his head shall go loose, and he shall cover\nhis upper lip, and shall cry, Unclean, unclean. All the days wherein\nthe plague is in him he shall be unclean: he is unclean: he shall\ndwell alone; without the camp shall his dwelling be\" (Lev. 13: 45, 46).\n\nSuch was the brand put upon the leper and his awful affliction, under\nthe Mosaic law. The brand never has been removed, nor the awfulness\nof the disease abated. In Europe this scourge, introduced by warlike\ncampaigns, and reintroduced by subsequent crusades, through isolation,\nsegregation of sexes, and improved sanitary methods, has been nearly\nexterminated. In America its spread is prevented by the same means.\n\nIn barbarian or semi-civilized countries no attempt is made to control\nthe disease. Such was the case in Burma, under Burman rule, and still\nis the case throughout the land, outside of a few municipalities\nunder English control. Even in the larger towns the rule that lepers\nshall go to the asylums, or dwell \"without the camp\" is not rigidly\nenforced. The leper is an outcast, so treated by his own race even\nmore than by Europeans, but this does not prevent him from wandering\nat will through the crowded streets and bazars. Rags that have\ncovered his repulsive sores may be cast away where men traffic and\nchildren play. They are permitted to marry among themselves, thereby\nperpetuating and multiplying the terrible disease. The latest census\ngives a total of 4,190 lepers in Burma alone. Of this number 2,940\nare males, 1,250 females. This does not include the large number of\nuntainted children of leprous parents, doomed to become lepers later\nin life. On the streets one may observe leprosy in all stages. One\nshows no other sign than swollen feet, and may not even know that he\nhas become a leper. Another shows unmistakable signs of the disease by\nwhite, red, or violet patches on his skin.\n\nAnother is in the last stage of the disease. Where once were feet\nand hands are only stumps. Some have what is left of feet and hands\nbandaged with foul rags. Others, whether from lack of wherewith to\nbandage, or in order to excite sympathy and almsgiving, expose their\nrepulsive sores. Passing Buddhists may now and then toss a copper into\nthe tin-cup, to get merit for themselves, but of compassion they have\nlittle or none. The leper's own fate or ill-luck, the outcome of evil\ncommitted in past existences, has overtaken him. There is no help for\nit. Why trouble about it? \"Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also\nreap,\" is a tenet of Buddhism, as well as of Christianity, but with\nno place for repentance or forgiveness. Fortunately leprosy is not\ninfectious. There is not the slightest danger from near approach. It\nis generally believed that it is not even contagious, like smallpox\nor scarlet fever. No doubt there is danger of contracting the disease\nby inoculation. Some claim that the use of imperfectly cured, or\nputrid fish as an article of diet, is the cause of leprosy. This seems\nreasonable, but there is ample evidence that it is not the only cause.\nBoth cause and cure still furnish fields for investigation by medical\nscience. Of the 4,190 lepers in Burma only about 560 are in Leper\nHomes.\n\nThis work is conducted by the Wesleyan and Roman Catholic missions\nin Mandalay, the Rangoon municipality, and the Baptist mission in\nMaulmein.\n\nNever yet have the Buddhists of Burma lifted a finger to alleviate\nthe sufferings of their outcasts. Whatever desultory and trifling\nalmsgiving as has been indulged in has been prompted not by compassion\nbut by selfishness, to add to the giver's own store of merit.\nThis is Buddhism, in both theory and practice. Buddhism has been\nextolled as a religion of love and peace. Its love is self-love; its\npeace self-conceit, and indifference to the sufferings of others.\nBut Christian missionaries are teaching a striking object lesson.\nWhile proclaiming the love of God in Christ, they are exemplifying\ntheir teaching by putting forth a mighty effort to relieve these\nunfortunates who have been cast off by their own people. English\nofficials give this work their sympathy and assistance. The number to\nshare the benefits of the asylums will steadily increase. Hundreds of\nlepers, homeless, friendless, and hopeless, waiting and longing for\nthe end, wander about in all the towns and villages of the land. This\nwandering habit is the chief obstacle to work among them. So long as\nsubsistence can be gained by begging, many prefer change of scene to\nthe more certain comforts of the Leper Home. But the time is not far\ndistant when, in the larger towns at least, they will not be allowed\nto roam at will.\n\nWork for the lepers appeals to the hearts of all races, in all\nChristian lands. Until effective means are devised to check\nthe propagation of this terrible disease, the need will be\never-increasing.\n\n\n\n\nVII\n\nA NATION IN TRANSITION\n\n\nIn nearly all non-Christian lands the first impressions of western\ncivilization have come from the aggressions of commerce.\n\nThe minister of a foreign government has preceded the missionary of\nthe Cross.\n\nThe flag of a foreign nation has gone in advance of the banner of\nChristianity.\n\nBoth political and commercial relations may have been forced upon\nthe people of the weaker nation. All this may have been in the best\ninterests of the world at large; probably in the best interests of the\npeople themselves, however slow they have been to realize it.\n\nWere Christian nations always worthily represented commercial,\ndiplomatic, and evangelistic efforts might cooperate for the uplifting\nof backward races. In the initial attempts to bring about the\nremolding of a nation, the restraining influence upon the natives,\nas exercised by the missionaries, is of inestimable importance.\nMissionaries in turn, need protection from fanatical and ignorant\nnatives, so easily influenced by irresponsible characters, to\ndesperate deeds.\n\nNew colonies invariably become a dumping ground for adventurers.\nGovernment officials, \"transferred for cause,\" drift farther and\nfarther towards the frontier. Because of a scarcity of trained\nmen certain positions have been filled by persons morally unfit\nto represent a civilized people. So it transpires that civil law\nsometimes becomes civil lawlessness, which men in higher positions are\npowerless wholly to restrain. But sweeping charges that officials of\nwhatever nation, in outlying colonies, are \"profligate and tyrannical\"\ndo gross injustice to many noble men who are doing their utmost for\nthe advancement of morality and justice. Burma has suffered as other\ncolonies have suffered. But there is steady progress for the better.\nThe various departments of government are becoming more thoroughly\norganized; competent and trustworthy men are in the ascendant. But\nthroughout the period since the annexation of Burma by the British\nIndian government--impressions far from complimentary to a Christian\nnation have become indelibly fixed in the native mind.\n\n[Illustration: THE LAST KING OF BURMA]\n\nVice is always more conspicuous than virtue. Unscrupulous men have\nbrought reproach upon a Christian nation; and created strong prejudice\nagainst Christianity itself, that many years of good government and\nevangelistic effort combined cannot efface. The innocent must suffer\nsuspicion with the guilty. It is also true that natives are naturally\nsuspicious of all foreigners, and apt to regard even necessary\nmeasures as oppressive. The old question \"Is it lawful to give tribute\nto C\u00e6sar?\" crops out wherever tribute is exacted. Every son of Adam,\nthe world over, holds the tax collector in contempt, and will evade\npayment if possible. \"Publicans and sinners\" are inseparably wedded,\nin the popular mind.\n\nThis deeply-grounded prejudice, whether with or without cause,\nconstitutes a serious hindrance to the progress of evangelistic work.\n\nOften the missionary must spend a whole day in a jungle village\nstriving to win the confidence of the people, who are slow to\ndiscriminate between the missionary and the official. Suspicion as to\nhis character and errand is a greater hindrance than their prejudice\nagainst Christianity as such.\n\nAt the same time there is reason for believing that could the Burmans\nthrow off the British yoke, and reestablish a kingdom of their own,\nmissionaries would not be permitted to propagate Christianity at all.\nIn February, 1826, Adoniram Judson and Dr. Price, having been released\nfrom their long imprisonment at Ava and Aungbinle, were finally\npermitted to go down to the British camp, Mrs. Judson accompanying\nthem. The release of these American missionaries, and the recovery of\ntheir property, of which the Burman officials had heartlessly robbed\nthem, were due entirely to special efforts in their behalf on the\npart of the general commanding the British troops. Mrs. Judson thus\nrecounted their experiences: \"We now, for the first time, for more\nthan a year and a half, felt that we were free, and no longer subject\nto the oppressive yoke of the Burmans. And with what sensation of\ndelight, on the next morning, did I behold the masts of the steamboat,\nthe sure presage of being within the bounds of civilized life. As\nsoon as our boat reached the shore, Brigadier A---- and another\nofficer came on board, congratulated us on our arrival, and invited\nus on board the steamboat where I passed the remainder of the day;\nwhile Mr. Judson went on to meet the general, who, with a detachment\nof the army, had encamped at Yandaboo, a few miles further down the\nriver. Mr. Judson returned in the evening with an invitation from\nSir Archibald to come immediately to his quarters, where I was the\nnext morning introduced, and received with the greatest kindness by\nthe general, who had a tent pitched for us near his own, took us to\nhis own table, and treated us with the kindness of a father, rather\nthan as strangers of another country. We feel that our obligations to\nGeneral Campbell can never be cancelled. Our final release from Ava,\nand our recovering all the property that had there been taken, was\nowing entirely to his efforts.\n\n\"His subsequent hospitality, and kind attention to the accommodation\nfor our passage to Rangoon, have left an impression on our minds,\nwhich can never be effaced. We daily received the congratulations\nof the British officers, whose conduct towards us formed a striking\ncontrast to that of the Burmese. I presume to say that no persons on\nearth were ever happier than we were during the fortnight we passed at\nthe English camp. For several days this single idea wholly occupied my\nmind,--that we were out of the power of the Burmese government, and\nonce more under the protection of the English\" (Memoir of Rev. Dr.\nJudson, by Wayland).\n\nSuch testimony as this is enough to arouse a sense of everlasting\ngratitude in the heart of every missionary whose privilege it is\nto conduct mission work under the protection of the British flag.\nHappily there has never been another occasion in the history of Burma\nmissions to extend such kindnesses as Mr. and Mrs. Judson enjoyed at\nthe hands of these English officers. But missionaries of all societies\nrepresented in Burma have always been able to number among their best\nfriends noble men in some department of government service, civil or\nmilitary.\n\nTransitions are more readily effected in government than in religion.\nThe \"Powers that be,\" though recently come into their possessions,\nspeak authoritatively. \"Might makes right,\" and compels changes.\nA foreign religion speaks persuasively, having no authority, and\ndesiring none, to compel its acceptance. When a foreign religion\nenters ground already preempted by twenty-five centuries of such a\nstrongly organized religion as Buddhism, transitions may also be\nreckoned by centuries. The world may witness the evangelization of\nBurma \"in this generation,\" but it cannot recall the three generations\nof Burmans that have gone out in the dark since Judson began his work\nin this land.\n\n\"Their idols are silver and gold, the work of men's hands.\"--\"They\nthat make them are like unto them: so every one that trusteth in\nthem.\" The image of Gautama Buddha bears on its face an expression,\nor rather lack of expression intended to represent that, to him,\nchange was forever past. The idol as truly represents Buddhism as it\ndoes the founder of Buddhism. There is no word in the Burman language\nof wider application than the word for \"custom.\" On that word the\nBuddhist falls back for justification of every act, as sufficient\nreason for non-action, as a clincher to every argument. He attaches\ngreater weight to ancestral custom than to the teachings of his \"law\"\nor to the dictates of his own judgment. When defeated at every point,\nin religious controversy he has been known to say, \"If what you say\nis true, then my ancestors have gone to hell. I want to go wherever\nthey have gone. If they have gone to hell, I want to go there too.\"\nAged Buddhists have said: \"Our children may become Christians, but we\nare too old to change. We will die in Buddhism, as we have lived.\"\nThey are \"like unto\" their idols in that they seem to have no power\nto change. Having \"changed the glory of the incorruptible God for\nthe likeness of corruptible man\"; \"Exchanged the truth of God for a\nlie, and worshipped and served the creature (Gautama) rather than the\ncreator,\" and \"Refused to have God in their knowledge,\" they seem to\nhave been given up to a \"reprobate mind.\" They now declare that there\nis no God. If there is no God there can be no sin against God. Sins\nare against _self_ only, in that they involve penalty. But penalty may\nbe counter-balanced by meritorious works. Therefore all responsibility\nto God or man is repudiated. Each man must be his own saviour. His\nmeritorious works are solely for his own advantage.\n\nSelf-centred, and self-sufficient,--the Christian doctrines of an\nEternal God, atonement, pardon, regeneration and heaven are rejected\nas idle tales concerning things which they consider neither necessary\nnor desirable. The Apostles, or missionaries (sent-forth-ones) of\nthe early church found that the Gentiles received the gospel much\nmore readily than the Jews. The latter were steeped in bigotry, and\nimagined themselves a superior and specially favoured people. They\nwere priest-ridden, and led astray by the \"traditions of the elders.\"\nAny suggestion of change was deeply resented, especially by the\nreligious teachers. History repeats itself in Burma. Non-Buddhist\ntribes receive the gospel far more readily than the Buddhist.\nBuddhists manifest the same Jewish spirit of haughty pride and\narrogant bigotry. They are priest-ridden, and bound down by teachings\nand customs never dreamed of by the founder of their religious system.\nPharisees decreed that if any man should confess Jesus to be the\nChrist, he should be put out of the synagogue. Where there were no\nPharisees to agitate against the Christian missionaries the common\npeople heard them gladly. While the Karens, as a nation, have already\npassed the transitional stage, the Burmans are still held back by\ntheir pharisaical priests, who never lack willing instruments for\nthe execution of their malice against converts to Christianity. But\nin communities where there are no priests to hold the people in awe,\nnative evangelists have little difficulty in securing a good hearing.\nThis indicates the real spirit of the people when untrammelled by\nintimidating influences. Human nature is much the same the world over.\nEnvironment and inherited custom make men to differ. Results already\nachieved (to be discussed in another chapter) show that Burma is in a\nstate of transition religiously as well as politically, though less\nconspicuously.\n\n[Illustration: GOVERNMENT HOUSE, RANGOON]\n\nThe sure promise of God that Christ shall have the nations for His\ninheritance; the uttermost parts of the earth for His possessions, has\nhere substantial beginnings of fulfillment. Uhlhorn said of the Roman\nEmpire in transition: \"The most mighty of forces cannot change in a\nday the customs and institutions of an Empire more than a thousand\nyears old.\" In Burma these forces are arrayed against customs and\ninstitutions that have developed during a period of twenty-five\nhundred years. Change of government effects outward changes in\nthe life of a people; but more than mere change of government is\nrequired to work changes for the better in the soul of a people.\nAping European customs may give an air of increased respectability,\nbut the aping of European vices, always first in order, makes the\nman \"Tenfold more a child of hell\" than before. Much is expected\nfrom the government system of education. Education will furnish a\nsupply of petty officials; raise the people to some extent, from\ntheir gross ignorance; and possibly do something towards undermining\nBuddhism,--though to undermine Buddhism is far from being the purpose\nor desire of the British Indian government. But something more than\neducation is required to prepare a nation to be an inheritance of the\nKing of Kings. The gospel, and only the gospel is the power of God\nunto the salvation of any nation.\n\nIn industry, skill, statesmanship, and all the qualities that go to\nmake up a strong people, the Burmans are sadly lacking. To come to\nthe front rank of progress, as the Japanese have done, is not in\nthem, and never will be. But as a dependent nation, restrained by\ntheir conquerors from the almost continual warfare which marks their\nhistory; and transformed by the leavening influences of Christianity,\nthey may yet take the front rank among Asiatic races as a Christian\npeople.\n\n\n\n\nVIII\n\n\"BY ALL MEANS--SAVE SOME\"\n\n\nIn face of the fact that whole nations lie in the darkness of\nheathenism; bound down by ancestral customs; priest-ridden; wedded\nto their idols;--what seeming folly for a handful of missionaries to\nattempt the world's evangelization. How futile the task of breaking\ndown the strongholds of heathen religions that have stood for\ncenturies. So they sneered at Carey the cobbler. So they tried to\ndiscourage Judson. A ship's captain once asked an out-going missionary\nto China:\n\n\"Do you think you can make any impression on the four hundred millions\nof China?\" \"No,\" said the missionary. \"But God can.\"\n\nA coloured preacher discoursing on faith, and warming to his subject\nsaid, \"If God tole me to jump froo dat wall, I'd _jump_. De jumpin'\n_froo_ belongs to God. De jumpin' _at it_ belongs to me.\" God\ncertainly has commanded His people to \"jump\" through the wall of\nheathenism. The command is clear, emphatic, and large with divine\nintensity, and promise of power and triumph.\n\nNothing was said as to methods to be employed in making disciples.\nThere are many ways of proclaiming the gospel. It may fairly be\ninferred that any or all effective methods may be employed; and that\nmethods may vary according to varying circumstances, in order \"by all\nmeans to save some.\"\n\nThere is danger of too narrow an interpretation of instructions.\nAs an illustration, take the case of Paul, who \"determined to know\nnothing\" among the Corinthian Christians \"save Jesus Christ and Him\ncrucified.\" But in elaborating his theme he found occasion to discuss\nsocial purity, matrimony, divorce, celibacy, apparel for the sexes,\nthe place of woman in public gatherings, as well as church discipline\nand collections. Whatever instruction was needed for the moral and\nspiritual development of the individual had a direct bearing upon\nhis central theme. Such instruction could not be omitted without\ndwarfing the benefits of Christ's sacrifice. In God's plan for the\nevangelization of the world \"The foolishness of the preaching\" is\nto \"save them that believe\"; \"Christ crucified\" furnishing both the\ntheme and the power. All other plans have failed. But this theme\nmay be proclaimed in many ways;--by the evangelist, as he goes from\nvillage to village; by the pastor from the pulpit; by the teacher in\nthe daily Bible-study of the school; by the medical missionary, whose\nministrations of mercy are sermons in themselves; by the holy life of\nmissionary and disciple; even by the Christian chapel, standing in a\nheathen community as a silent yet significant witness for Christ. All\nof these forces, and others are being used of God in the redemption of\nBurma.\n\n\"Direct evangelization,\" or the proclamation of the gospel-message\nfrom village to village, throughout the large district to which a\nmissionary has been assigned, is the predominating method.\n\nOur first experience in this line came when we had been but a few\nmonths in Burma. A messenger from a village twenty-three miles\naway came to inform us that two young men wanted to be baptized.\nHaving already made plans to visit that village we prepared at once\nto respond to the summons. When a Burman wishes to be baptized in\nthe presence of the heathen people of his own village, it is taken\nas evidence that the Holy Spirit is working in his heart. Such\nopportunities must not be neglected.\n\nFirst we must summon our forces. U Po Hlaing must go, because this is\nthe village in which he used to live, and these converts are fruits\nof his labours. Ko Thaleh must go, because he has had much experience\nin examining candidates, and his judgment can be trusted. Maung Ka\nmust go, because he is young, full of fire, and will not cease to\npreach the gospel, whatever the circumstances. But it is not easy\nto secure an audience in the heathen village, unless there is some\nspecial attraction. \"Music hath charms\" to draw the people from their\nhomes, and hold them until the preachers have done their work. \"Mama\"\nis going, with the portable organ, and some of the Christian girls\nto sing, insuring success though other methods fail. After going\nseventeen miles by rail we still had six miles to make by ox-cart. The\ndelight of an ox-cart ride over rough jungle roads beggars description.\n\nThe driver sits on the projecting front, guiding the animals, or\npretending to, by means of a rope passed through their noses.\n\nJust as we are about to sit down the oxen start. We save ourselves by\nclutching at somebody else. A desire to say something emphatic to the\ndriver is overcome by inability to speak his language, and a feeling\nof thankfulness that we are still on deck. The road is conspicuous\nby its absence,--but that does not matter. All the driver wants is\nto get his bearings, then off he goes across sun-baked rice-fields,\nand through the jungle. By instinct he knows that a straight line is\nthe shortest distance between two points, and he keeps to that line\nwithout regard to obstructions or our feelings. At last we reach the\nriver, and see on the opposite bank the thatch-roofed houses of the\nvillage. The preachers shout to the villagers, and soon two boats\nare poled across to take us over. Our boat is a long narrow dug-out,\nour boatman a chubby Burmese girl. We are in momentary expectation\nof being dumped into the river; but happily our expectations are not\nrealized. Chubby enjoys it immensely, and seems proud when she has\nlanded us safely. Landing means that the dug-out has stuck in the mud,\ntwenty feet from shore. The natives could wade, and so could we, but\nwe did not like to, through all that mud. A brawny bare-backed Burman\nsoon solved the problem by taking \"Mama\" in his arms and carrying her\nto the shore, returning to take the \"Sayah\" on pick-a-pack.\n\nWe were piloted to a house at the farther end of the village.\nAscending by a short ladder to the open veranda we were glad to\nstretch out on the split-bamboo floor for a little rest. After we\nhad eaten supper, and the men and women had returned from their work\nin the rice-fields, the portable organ was placed in position. In\nresponse to its tones, sounds never heard before in that village, men,\nwomen, and children came from all directions. Some sat around on the\nground, others climbed the ladder and filled all available space. The\npreachers did their best to make known the \"Glad Tidings.\" Whenever\nthe audience showed signs of thinning out, the organ would send\nforth another appeal, restoring numbers and interest. Sankey's songs,\ntranslated into Burmese, were sung with vigour by the schoolgirls. The\n\"Old, Old Story\" seemed to take new meaning when sung to the heathen\nby some of their own people who had learned to love it and live by it.\nDuring the following day, while the people were busy at their work,\nour attention was given to the children.\n\nA dozen or so, drawn by curiosity, had collected about the house.\n\nSome were half clad, others with no protection whatever, save a string\naround the neck, with one large bead attached.\n\nAll were very dirty, and as shy as rabbits. After winning their\nconfidence a picture card was given to each, with instructions to go\nand bring other children.\n\n[Illustration: HOW WE TRAVEL BY CART AND BOAT]\n\nIt was interesting to see them scatter through the village to do their\nfirst missionary work. Few in the home-land realize how helpful to the\nmissionary are the bright coloured advertising cards. Wild children in\njungle villages are won by these pictures. Attendance at Sunday-school\nin town may be doubled by their use. But these native children want\nsomething more than bright colours. Strange to say that although fond\nof flowers for personal adornment, they will give only a passing\nglance at the showiest picture of flowers; while a picture of a\n_person_,--man, woman, or child, of any race,--if in bright attire,\nis eagerly seized. A darky boy riding a spool of Coat's thread is more\neffective than a dull Sunday-school card for evangelizing purposes.\nBushels of such cards might be utilized.\n\nLate that afternoon the council came together to examine the\ncandidates for baptism. Sitting around on the floor in all sorts of\npositions they formed a strange looking group, yet as sincere and\nearnest as a similar council in the home-land.\n\nThe examination was declared satisfactory, so after prayer we all\nstarted for the river, followed by nearly the whole village, curious\nto witness a Christian baptism,--the strange magic rite of initiation\ninto the foreign religion. This is always a grand opportunity to\npreach Christ. Rather than lose the baptism they will remain and\nlisten as they would not at other times. So long as the missionary\nremains in their village they will not show, by word or sign, that\nthey are not in sympathy with these proceedings. The new converts, who\nhave had the courage of their convictions, will be made to realize to\ntheir sorrow the real mind of the people. On the way to this village\nwe met a squad of Burmans, accompanied by a native policeman. One of\nthe men was carrying a parcel wrapped in plantain leaves. Interested\nto know what was in the parcel, that it should require a police\nescort, what was our surprise to learn that it contained a dacoit's\nhead! Bands of dacoits had been giving a great deal of trouble.\nSeveral of their leaders were still at large. More regular methods\nhaving failed to secure their capture, the British Indian government\noffered tempting rewards for their heads. Two men living in the\nvillage to which we were going, surprised one of these dacoit leaders\nin a jungle path, and thinking that his head would be worth more to\nthem than it ever would be to him, they struck it off with their\n_dahs_. The head was taken to the court, where it was identified, and\nthe reward recovered.\n\nContinuing our tour, we halted one morning at about ten o'clock for\nbreakfast. Our preachers had told us what a wicked village this was,\nhow the people had driven them out every time they had attempted to\npreach or distribute tracts; and that only a little while before our\nvisit they had beaten the wife of one of the preachers because she\nspoke of Christ while resting by the way. But this time there was no\ndanger of violence, for the presence of one white man is sufficient\nsecurity against serious molestation. So each preacher armed himself\nwith a handful of tracts, and started out to work the village, and\nadvertise our coming. Then \"Mama\" opened the portable organ there in\nthe open air, and played a few tunes. Soon quite a number of women\nand children were attracted by the sound. After throwing out this\nbait, we paused for breakfast, for we were hungry, hot, and tired,\nhaving been travelling since the first signs of morning light. The\npeople were told to come again about noon, and bring others with\nthem. The news that the white teachers had come, that one was a white\n_woman_, and played on a wonderful music-box, such as they never had\nseen before, went like wild-fire through the village.\n\nThe building in which we hoped to have our meeting was set up on posts\nseveral feet from the ground, according to the custom. The door was\nreached by means of a ladder. How to get the people up into the house\nwas the question that we must solve. We placed the organ well to the\nback side of the one large room, and posted the native helpers as to\nour purposes. At the appointed time the people began to come,--men,\nstripped to the waist as they came from their work; women smoking\nhuge cheroots, with babies astride their hips; children of all sizes,\nsome clothed, some naked. The missionary's wife took her place at the\norgan and played away, tune after tune, everything she could think\nof, from \"Old Hundred\" to \"Gloria in Excelsis,\" and repeated the most\nof them. Everything depended upon the drawing power of the music. The\npreachers and Christian girls,--some up in the house, others down in\nthe yard,--coaxed and urged the people up the ladder until we had\nfilled the house. Up to this time I had kept well in the background\non account of the more timid. My object accomplished, I now climbed\nup the ladder and seated myself in the door,--the only door there\nwas. With back against one door-jamb, and knees against the other,\nI was the gladdest man on earth. We had trapped nearly the whole\nvillage! Fully seventy-five people who had persistently refused to\nlisten to the gospel were penned in with the preachers. To crowd out\nover a white man, even had they dared to attempt it, would have been\ntoo great a breach of Burman etiquette. At a given signal the music\nstopped, and one of the preachers addressed the people. He was the\nvery man whose wife had recently been beaten. He began by telling\nthem how he had wanted for a long time to tell them about this new\nreligion, but never had been permitted to do so. He reminded them of\ntheir action in beating his wife. \"But,\" said he, \"I have no hard\nfeelings against you. This new religion is a religion of love. Its\nsacred book tells us that 'God is love,' and that He 'So loved the\nworld that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on\nHim should not perish, but have eternal life.'\" Then for about ten\nminutes, with wonderful tact and earnestness, he proclaimed Christ\nas the world's Saviour. After a tune on the organ, to keep the\npeople interested and expectant, another preacher gave his message.\nAnother tune, and then the third preacher emphasized what the others\nhad spoken. For three-quarters of an hour these people, entrapped by\nstrategy, listened to the gospel at short range, and were interested\nin spite of themselves. But two men who were specially bitter against\nthe name of Christ, climbed out through a window and dropped to the\nground.\n\nIn the outskirts of that village we found an aged couple who professed\nto be followers of Christ. They had heard the gospel elsewhere, and\nwith what light they had, believed. The villages had utterly cut them\noff, refusing to sell to them, buy from them, or even allow them to\ndraw water from the village well. But these old people had found the\n\"Water of life.\" In their hearts shone all the light there was in\nthat terribly benighted village. Both of them died in the faith a few\nyears later. Many of the Karens have come down from the mountains and\nstarted villages of their own in the plains. Until the English had\nthoroughly subdued the country this was not possible, as the Karens\nwere terribly oppressed by the Burmans. On one of our jungle tours we\ncame across one of these Karen villages. Nearly all the men understood\ncolloquial Burmese. They received the missionary party with great\nkindness, and eagerly listened to the gospel, which they had not\nheard before. The fifteen houses comprising the village were built at\nregular intervals around the outer edge of the small clearing they\nmade in the forest.\n\nIn the open space the Karens were seated in a semicircle on the\nground, with the missionary and native preachers in front.\n\nWe were about to sow precious seed in virgin soil. Not a soul had ever\nheard of Christ before. The story must begin at the beginning,--the\nEternal God; the creation; the fall; the revelation of God in Jesus\nChrist--the Saviour of the world. As he went on to tell of Christ's\nmajesty and holiness, of His wonderful words and works I was deeply\nstirred. Suddenly the face of the head-man lighted up, and with a\ntwinkle in his eye he interrupted the preacher. Pointing to me he\nsaid: \"Is this your Christ?\" For a moment his question seemed merely\nridiculous. But as the preacher continued his good work, my mind was\nbusy with this heathen Karen's mistake. When it dawned upon me that\nhe had actually mistaken me for Christ, I never was so overwhelmed\nin all my life. And yet, I thought, is it such a mistake? True, the\nGod-man was infinitely superior to any human being. But the missionary\nrepresents, for the time, all that these people can know of Christ.\nThey must see exemplified in me the principles of Christianity, and\nthe spirit of its Founder. They must see His holiness reproduced in\nmy daily life. As He, when tried at all points, was without sin; when\nreviled, reviled not again; emerging calm and triumphant from every\ndistracting storm, so I must manifest the Master's spirit, and by\nHis help preserve self-control under the most trying circumstances.\nThey must see Christ truly represented in my life until they can\nlook beyond, to Him who is the \"Author and perfecter of our faith.\"\nThat was a high standard set for me by that poor heathen Karen, but\nit has proved more helpful to me than anything in all my Christian\nexperience. It stimulated me to strive the harder to be able to say to\nmy people \"Be ye imitators of me, as I also am of Christ.\"\n\nThe Burman race has the reputation of being thriftless and lazy. Many\nhave prophesied that the \"Burman must go to the wall\" before the\nencroachments of natives of India, Chinese, and Karens. As seen in the\nchief towns the Burman has fairly earned such a reputation.\n\nIf he has government employment, even a petty clerkship, he is good\nfor nothing else. Many are \"birds of the night\"--gamblers--and loafers\nby day.\n\nThe average citizen spends the most of his time in indolence,\nsupported by his more enterprising wife.\n\nBut in the jungle villages we find a very different state of affairs.\nFew men are found in the village in the daytime. To prepare their\nland, plant, harvest, thresh, and market the crop of rice, requires\ndiligent work almost the whole year round. I have almost regretted\ntheir diligence sometimes, when compelled to spend a day in almost\nidleness waiting for the men to return from their fields at sunset.\nThen an hour or so passes while they are getting their evening meal.\nBy this time it is pitch dark, if there is no moon. There is not a\nlamp in the whole village. Ordinary methods will not attract tired\nmen from their homes. There is no time for house-to-house preaching.\nBut the Gospel _must be preached_. If we cannot reach them by day we\nmust reach them by night. In the home-land a magic-lantern service\nis resorted to now and then, as a special attraction. We have come\nprepared to do the same in the jungle villages. Early in the day we\nclean up a spot in the centre of the village, and stretch our large\nwhite curtain between two trees, or support it by bamboo poles. A\nclean white sheet in a conspicuous place, is a novelty in itself\nsufficient to advertise the presence of outsiders. While tracts\nare being distributed from house to house the evening service is\nannounced. If there is no musical instrument to call the people\ntogether the head-man is asked to sound his gong at the appointed time.\n\n[Illustration: TRANSPLANTING RICE]\n\n[Illustration: DORIAN SELLERS]\n\nThe magic lantern never fails to draw a crowd. But as the first\npicture is thrown upon the screen we notice that many are hanging back\nwhere they cannot see and hear to the best advantage. Then we discover\nthat this has been mistaken for a traveling show, and that they are\nkeeping out of reach of the collection plate. They can hardly believe\nour repeated assertion that all this is for them, \"without money and\nwithout price.\" At last the crowd is gathered in as close as possible,\nthe children sitting on the ground in front. At first we show a few\npictures illustrating their own life and customs. How pleased they are\nwhen a Burmese damsel arrayed in gaudy skirt and flowers, appears on\nthe screen. Then we pass to pictures illustrating mission work among\ntheir own people, taking care to emphasize the fact that Christianity\nhas already made substantial progress in Burma,--has come to stay. By\nthis time our dusky audience has become accustomed to the novelty of\nthe situation, and is ready to settle down to look and listen.\n\nNow we pass to our real purpose,--the setting forth of Jesus Christ as\nthe world's Saviour. Often the preacher has been met with the demand,\n\"Show us your God.\" That \"God is a Spirit, and they that worship Him\nmust worship in spirit and truth\" is beyond the comprehension of the\nheathen mind. He has no conception of an eternal, invisible God. He\ncan point to his god in that idol-house on the hilltop, but where is\nthe Christian's god? Great care is taken at the outset to make them\nunderstand that these pictures of Christ on the screen are in no sense\nidols; that we do not worship the pictures. Then each picture is made\na text for a brief but earnest sermon, as we strive to convey to them,\nthrough eye and ear, some conception of the majesty, power, holiness,\nand love of God as revealed in Christ. There is a crisis when we reach\nthe picture of the crucifixion. Christ is the Christian's God, and\n_his God is dead_. That thought is expressed in various exclamations.\nUp to this point we seemed to be carrying our audience with us, but\nnow they slip from our grasp. For the moment the case seems lost, the\nmessage rejected. How earnestly we pray that the Holy Spirit will\nmake \"the attraction of the cross\" realized by these heathen men and\nwomen. Have we made a mistake in displaying the cross in the first\nproclamation of the gospel in these villages? Surely \"Christ and Him\ncrucified\" was the central theme of Paul's preaching, wherever he was.\nHe Himself said, \"And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto\nMe.\" This theme and this picture shall have their place,--we will\nleave the result with God. Without waiting for too much of a reaction\nwe pass to the picture of the resurrection. At once the preacher\ngathers fresh courage. With earnestness and triumph in his voice he\nsets forth the glorious fact of the resurrection. \"Yes, Christ died\nfor our sins, but He laid down His life that He might take it again.\"\nAfter citing proofs of the resurrection we close with the ascension.\nChrist enthroned, with \"All power in heaven and on earth,\" \"ever\nliveth to make intercession for us.\"\n\nThe people fully understand that there has been nothing supernatural\nin the appearing of the pictures on the screen, and yet they are\nmore deeply impressed than when appealed to through the ear alone.\nAs one man expressed it, \"How can we disbelieve, when we have seen\nwith our own eyes.\" For day-work we sometimes use large coloured\npictures illustrating the life of Christ. A bamboo pole is fastened\nup horizontally about five feet from the ground. The picture-roll is\nsuspended under the pole so that each picture, when done with, can\nbe thrown back over the pole. This method is very effective with the\nchildren, and can be used when the older people are at their work.\nBoth old and young enjoy the pictures, for all have child-minds.\n\nOn one occasion we were preaching by this method in a Karen village. A\nmiddle aged Karen, a typical specimen of \"the Great Unwashed,\" planted\nhimself directly in front of the picture, intensely interested in what\nhe saw and heard. As the young preacher graphically described some\nof Christ's miracles, or told of the sad events of the Passion Week,\nthe man's face was a study. Its expression changed with the varying\nsentiment of the message,--now wreathed in a smile that showed all of\nhis blackened teeth; now drawn down with a look of sadness that would\nhave been comical but for the sacredness of the theme. The narration\nof Christ's heavenly words and works would be responded to by an \"Ugh,\nUgh\" of approval; the story of His rejection, by the same grunts in\na different tone, expressive of disapproval. This man, at least, was\nripe for a personal application of the message.\n\nNow and then we find a village in which is more than the usual amount\nof prejudice against Europeans. The people have suffered some real\nor imagined oppression. Not being able to discriminate between the\nmissionary and the official, they naturally resent his coming.\n\nSometimes a whole day must be spent in disarming their fear. We learn\nthat a man is sick with fever,--the medicine-box is opened and the\nsick man treated. Children come peeping around the corners, and we win\nthem with picture-cards. A young mother goes by with her little one\nastride her hip, and we praise the baby. So by degrees we work our way\ninto their confidence and prepare the way for our message.\n\nNot always can the missionary accompany his native evangelist in their\njungle tours. It may be that other forms of mission-work compel him\nto remain at headquarters. It may be that his health has become so\naffected by the climate that he can no longer endure the unavoidable\nhardship and exposure. It may be that funds are wanting to cover the\nexpense of further touring. Missionary experience has demonstrated\nthe wisdom of adopting the Master's method, and he sends out his\nnative helpers \"two by two.\" One man alone confronting the forces\nof heathenism, may become disheartened. Poorly trained, he may find\nhimself led into argument only to be worsted. He may get sick, and\nhave no one to take care of him, or carry a message to his friends.\nBut \"two by two,\" one encourages the other. When preaching, one\nsupplements the other. The one who follows warms to his work even more\nearnestly than the one who led off. What one does not think of the\nother one does. We have often marvelled at their faithfulness, knowing\nthat nearly every attempt to preach Christ to the heathen is met by a\nrebuff from some one. They may have made repeated attempts without any\nsign of fruitage. Should they \"shake off the dust\" of their feet as\na testimony against every village in which their message is not well\nreceived, they would soon cover the ground, and go out of business.\n\nOften after a day of ox-cart riding, followed by preaching extending\nwell into the evening, we have retired to our curtained corner in a\nnative house, so weary that a bamboo floor seemed smooth and soft.\nRetired, but not to sleep,--for no sooner are we out of sight than the\npreaching begins again. Among the many who have heard the gospel, one,\ntwo, or half a dozen want to know more about this new teaching. They\nclimb up into the house, and with the preachers form a circle around\nthe smoking tin lamp. To ten, twelve, or one o'clock in the night\nthe preaching goes on. We forget our weariness, for we know that the\nvery best work of all is now being done. The preachers are face to\nface with the few who are willing or anxious to hear, unhindered by\nscoffers or fear of neighbours.\n\nNative evangelists are not encouraged to attend heathen festivals by\nthemselves, although these large gatherings furnish good opportunities\nfor preaching and tract distribution. Their presence at a heathen\nfestival might be misunderstood, besides furnishing an excuse to\nweaker Christians who might be attracted by the pomp and show. The\none exception is the heathen funeral. As has already been pointed\nout, the funeral is also a festival, but animated to some extent by\na different spirit. There are genuine mourners in the house, besides\nthe wailers who make such ado by turns. There are truly sympathetic\nfriends, besides the many who attend because it is customary, or to\nshare in the feast. There is one solemn subject, death, that will\nnot down, besides the idle chatter of the throng. Here is the place\nfor the preacher. Now and then, it is true, he is summarily dismissed\nthe moment he attempts to preach. But as a rule he finds many who are\nin a sober, thinking frame of mind, ready to listen to the Christian\nteacher's view of death and the Great Beyond. That the deceased will\nsome time reappear, as man or animal, they believe, but not as the\nsame individual.\n\nThe Christian doctrine of the immortality of the soul, is\nutterly foreign to all their thinking. They have no conception\nof a final state of bliss or misery. Nothing is final except\nNeikban,--annihilation,--and few there be who find it. In the\nChristian doctrine they see a ray of hope. Some from real interest,\nothers from curiosity will listen to the message. Sometimes it happens\nthat the deceased was the heathen wife of a Christian husband, or the\nheathen husband of a Christian wife, for they do not always separate\nwhere one is converted to Christianity. Such a case happened near our\nhome. Ever since his baptism Ko Poo had led a terrible life with his\nheathen wife, who cherished the most intense hatred of everything\nChristian. After a lingering illness Ko Poo realized that his time had\ncome. Far from dreading death he hailed it as bringing sweet release\nfrom an unhappy life. Before his death he made his will, bound his\nlittle ten year old boy to the mission, and secured the missionary's\npromise that in spite of all opposition, he should have Christian\nburial. His people were given their choice whether to have the remains\ntaken to the Christian chapel or to have a Christian service in the\nhouse, in which his wife would still be living. They chose the latter\ncourse. But an unforeseen event occurred, complicating matters. The\nwife was taken suddenly ill, and died at half-past seven in the\nmorning, two hours before the death of her husband.\n\nSome said that her ill-timed demise was a final manifestation of her\nspirit of interference with all Christian doings. Be that as it may,\nit was now inevitable that there would also be a heathen funeral\nat the house, at the same time. Here was an occasion calling for\ndiplomacy, but not for yielding. They knew the missionary too well to\nexpect him and his native preachers to quit the field. According to\nnative custom a body is kept from three to five days,--a dangerous\ncustom, to say the least, in a tropical country, with no facilities\nfor embalming. The remains of the wife might be kept longer if they so\ndesired, but according to Christian custom the funeral of the husband\nmust be held on the second day. \"Oh, no, that would not be good. They\nhad lived together so long, now let them be buried at the same time.\"\nSo they yielded that point. Next, where should they be buried? The\nChristians had their cemetery, and the Buddhists had theirs. The\nmissionary could plead his promise to the dying man that he should\nhave Christian burial, a promise badly kept if the interment should\nbe in the Buddhist cemetery. Of course they were not willing that the\nwife should be buried in the Christian cemetery,--so that point was\npeaceably gained. Then, how should the two coffins be conveyed to\ntheir last resting place? \"As they had lived together so long, let\nthe two coffins be carried side by side,\"--but that would not do, for\nthey were not bound for the same destination,--another point quietly\ngained. The next problem was, should the usual expensive spire-topped\nbier be constructed, on which to place the wife's coffin. The\nChristians were not providing anything of that kind, so the heathen\nfriends were easily persuaded to forego their custom for once, and\nsave the money, for the benefit of the orphaned children. When the\ntime came for the Christians' service the missionary repaired to the\nhouse, whither the native preachers had already gone. In fact, one\nor more of them had remained there the entire time from the death\nof Ko Poo. At the appearance of the missionary and the Christian\ncompany the tom-toms ceased their din, and the room was made for all\nto enter. When a movement was made to bring from the upper part of\nthe house the coffin containing the remains of the husband, one of\nthe heathen relatives suggested that both coffins be brought down, at\nthe same time, and be placed on the trestle side by side. When this\nhad been done, the missionary made a sign to the native pastor that\nall was ready for the service to begin. Then the situation, of their\nown creating, dawned upon them. A Christian service was about to be\nheld over the wife as well as the husband! A man jumped up in anger to\nprotest, but was quietly though emphatically told to sit down and not\ndisturb the service. Christian hymns were sung, appropriate scripture\nread, prayer offered, and brief but earnest talks made by three of\nthe Christian workers, including the missionary. A crowd had gathered\nfilling all available space in the large room, and open space out to\nthe street. There was not the slightest disturbance or evidence of\ndissatisfaction throughout the service. Scores heard for the first\ntime of Christ--\"the Resurrection and the Life.\" Many others heard\nanew, under more impressive conditions. Then the procession formed,\nthe Christian section in advance, and all moved slowly up the street,\nto the sound of the tom-toms in the rear. At the Buddhist cemetery,\nthe heathen section swung off, the Christians going a short distance\nbeyond to their cemetery. The husband's relatives followed with the\nChristians. After a brief service at the grave, all returned to their\nhomes. So closed a unique experience, and a rare opportunity to\nproclaim Christ as Saviour.\n\nOften the Christians have opportunity to minister to a mourning\nmother--\"weeping for her children; and she would not be comforted,\nbecause they were not.\" In a twofold sense \"they are not.\" According\nto Buddhist belief, for infants there is no hope. Little boys are\nhardly considered human beings until they have spent at least one day\nin a monastery. The status of little girls is still more uncertain.\nThe mourning mother has not even David's comfort, \"I shall go to him,\nbut he will not return to me.\" She sorrows without hope. Her little\none is dead, it was too young to have a soul, it is simply to be taken\naway into the jungle and buried. How her face brightens with hope, in\nspite of her belief, when we tell her that her little one is safe in\nheaven. She is ready to listen to the sweet story of Jesus blessing\nlittle children; and saying to His disciples, \"Suffer the little\nchildren to come unto Me; and forbid them not; for to such belongeth\nthe kingdom of heaven.\" Her mind may be so dark that she fails to take\nin its wealth of meaning, but it is a message of comfort, at least.\nEven some native Christians who had lost little ones before their own\nconversion, have carried with them the old heathen ideas concerning\ntheir lost ones until assured by the teacher that they will see their\nlittle ones again. This truth comes to them as a blessed revelation,\ngiving joy and hope in place of sadness. Human nature is much the\nsame, the world over; the same susceptibility to joy and sorrow.\nChrist in the heart makes all the difference.\n\nA sad occasion, furnishing a grand opportunity, was the burial of a\nlittle child of mixed parentage. The father had returned to England,\nleaving his native concubine and two little children. The younger,\nonly about nine months old, sickened and died. Heathen friends and\nrelatives of the mother came to the mission with a request that\nthe child be buried according to Christian custom. A large company\ngathered at the grave, all Buddhists except the missionary and the\nnative pastor. The heathen friends were allowed to set a circle of\nlighted candles around the grave according to their custom. Then a\nshort passage of scripture was read, containing the Saviour's words\n\"Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for\nto such belongeth the kingdom of heaven\"; and \"He took them in His\narms and blessed them, laying His hands upon them.\" Men and women\nlistened intently while the precious truth, so new and strange to\nthem, was set forth that these little ones, far from being soulless\ncreatures,--as Buddhism teaches,--are choicest material for the\nparadise of God. And that except a man become as a little child, in\nsimple trust and purity of heart, he cannot enter the kingdom of\nGod. Returning to their homes these people must pass the missionary's\nhouse. Twenty of them stopped to get tracts that they might learn more\nabout the Glad Tidings.\n\nAnother method of preaching Christ is through \"medical missions,\" or\nthe incidental medical work, which every missionary must perform. As a\nphilanthropic work medical missions would be justified from a purely\nmedical or humanitarian point of view. The woman who had \"suffered\nmuch from many physicians\" was a victim of men probably much more\nadvanced in the knowledge of medicine than the average Burman doctor.\nBoth the diagnosis and the treatment are based on superstition.\n\nThe so-called doctor enters that profession because he has a taste\nfor it and thinks he can do well (for himself) at it. He requires no\ntraining, and no drugs other than he can pick up in the jungle as he\ngoes along,--herbs, barks, and roots of a peculiar smell, shells,\nstones, etc. carefully gathered at the right time of the moon. Some\nof the articles in his stock possess a real medicinal value, and\nnow and then are put to their proper use, as is the case in country\ndistricts the world over. Any one of the ninety-six diseases which,\naccording to the Burman notion, the flesh is heir to, may have come\nfrom one of about as many different causes. The sick man may have\nbeen bewitched, one of their many demons may be having a turn at him,\nor perhaps he has offended the great nagah, or dragon. If it is due\nto the balance of kan, fate being against him, the case is hopeless.\nThat the sickness was caused by eating unripe fruit, drinking from a\npolluted well, or eating dried and putrid fish seldom occurs to the\nman of science who has come on to the scene to lessen the chances\nof recovery. Such is the fear of cholera that cathartics, in many\ncases the only remedy needed, are rarely given. Some of the Burmese,\naverse to taking medicine of any kind, prefer to call a dietist. No\nmatter what the ailment may be, the patient's birthday determines the\ntreatment. Every Burman knows the day of the week on which he was\nborn, though he may not know the month or the year.\n\nHis own name would recall the day, should he forget it. Certain\nletters are assigned to each day of the week, according to the planet\nfrom which the day took its name. The person's name must begin with\none of the several letters belonging to his birthday. Now in like\nmanner all kinds of food beginning with one of those letters the\npatient must carefully _shaung_,--avoid. Rice would be tabooed on\nSaturday, but as no Burman can eat at all without rice, an exception\nis made, to save the doctor's popularity. Burying an effigy of the\nsick person is sometimes resorted to, in order to fool the demon who\nis hanging around the house. Thinking his victim has died, he will\ndepart. Massage sometimes is very helpful. Half a dozen people in a\nvillage are noted for their knowledge of the muscles of the human\nbody, and for special skill in the shampooing process, but nearly\nevery man and woman attempts it now and then. This may be done with\nthe hands, or by treading slowly back and forth on the prone body of\nthe sufferer. Practiced with discrimination it has more value than all\nthe nostrums of doctors or dietists. But unfortunately the Burmese\npractice it for everything, from a lame toe to confinement cases.\nA prominent Burman in Rangoon recently declared as his belief that\nBurma's immunity from the plague is due to the reverence of the people\nfor the \"three precious things\" of Buddhism, \"the Buddha, the law,\nand the priest.\" Against the occult power of Karma on the right side\nof the scale, accumulated by such faithful observance of the noble\nprecept, the baccilli of the plague can make no headway. By the same\nreasoning the presence of the plague in India is attributed to the\nfact that Hinduism with its revolting customs and bloody sacrifices\nhas supplanted Buddhism in that country.\n\nPutting these two together he confidently asserts that the only\neffectual remedy for the plague in India is the restoration of\nBuddhism as the national religion.\n\nMortality among infants is very high. This is remarkable when one\nconsiders the faithfulness of the mother in attending to its wants,\nstarting it on honey and water in place of its natural food; and\nafterwards supplementing its natural food by stuffing little wads\nof boiled rice into its mouth while it is yet but a few weeks old.\nMoreover, special precautions are taken against the departure of the\nlittle one's \"butterfly-spirit.\" That which the Christian calls the\nsoul, the Burman calls the sense of _knowing_, and is personified\nas the \"butterfly-spirit.\" When the body dies the butterfly-spirit\nalso dies. When a mother dies leaving an infant behind, immediate\nprecautions must be taken to prevent the child's butterfly-spirit\nfrom going off with the mother's. Incantations are resorted to, and\nthey distractedly appeal to the dead mother not to take away the\nbutterfly-spirit of the babe.\n\nThen a ceremony is performed with a tuft of fluffy cotton to imitate\nthe return of the spirit to the body of the child, who is blinking\nin blissful unconsciousness of the awful crisis through which it is\npassing. During one's sleep the butterfly-spirit may go wandering\nabout by itself, hence the peculiar experiences in dreams. The\ntemporary absence of the butterfly-spirit does no harm, unless\nperchance it gets lost in the jungle, or badly frightened, it rushes\nback so tumultuous as to cause a shock to its owner. Another danger is\nthat the person may be roused from sleep while the butterfly-spirit\nis off on a picnic, in which case he would at least be sick until\nthe spirit returns. A sleeping man must not be disturbed, however\nimperative the summons.\n\nI was once the victim of over solicitude on my behalf. Travelling to\nRangoon by night-train, with a Burman as a companion I fell asleep.\nThe Burman knew that I was very anxious to reach my destination on\ntime.\n\nHe also knew that while I was asleep our train was delayed, and that\nan opportunity offered for a transfer to the mail-train which had the\nright-of-way. But that fellow, educated and Christian that he was, had\nnot outgrown the feeling that a sleeper must not be roused, and so\nlet the chance slip by. An important business engagement was missed,\nto say nothing of subsisting on one ear of boiled corn until twelve\no'clock the next day. Much more might be said to show that there is\na large field, and an urgent demand for medical missions. I am fully\npersuaded that, given a medical missionary with an \"evangelistic\ntemperament,\" which means a \"passion for souls,\" no other missionary\nagency can be compared with medical missions. Especially is this\ntrue of work among Burman and Shan Buddhists. The value of the work\ndepends largely on the man himself.\n\nIf he cannot or does not win the people to himself he never will win\nthem to Christ. The spiritual work will suffer in proportion as he\nallows himself to become absorbed in the purely medical or scientific\nside of his work, leaving the evangelistic work to the native helpers.\n\nThe doctor has rare opportunities for personal influence in his\ndispensary and in heathen homes. It is to be greatly regretted that\nat the present time there is not one medical missionary in the whole\ncountry assigned to Burman Buddhists, who comprise about four-fifths\nof the population. All of the Shan mission stations have medical\nmissionaries, and the success of their work testifies to the soundness\nof the policy, though this policy was due primarily to the need of\nsuch protection for the missionary family in these frontier stations.\n\nThe medical missionary has a double hold on the people. The dispensary\nbrings them to him, and his outside practice takes him to their homes,\nand that by invitation. In both respects he has an advantage over the\nclerical missionary. Moreover, as medical treatment is the ostensible\nobject in their case, anti-Christian opposition is not prematurely\nexcited. Frequent visits of the clerical missionary to a heathen\nhome, brands that home as leaning towards Christianity. The one, by\nrelieving suffering, removes prejudice, although he may at the same\ntime proclaim Christ as faithfully as the other who, by making that\nhis sole errand, unavoidably excites prejudice. If as the result of a\nman's ministrations the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, and\nfevers are banished, he is forgiven for being a Christian, and others\nare forgiven for consorting with him.\n\nAll governments and religions recognize the fact that to elevate a\npeople the beginning must be made with the children. It is too late\nnow to \"begin with the child's grandfather.\" Missionaries do not\nconfound education with evangelization, but they do recognize its\ngreat value in the evangelizing process. Ideally, evangelization\nshould come first, and education afterwards to meet the consequent\ndemand. This is usually the method followed, to the extent of the\nevangelizing force available. The missionary to Burmans is shut up\nto a choice between losing the children of Christian parents to the\ngovernment, Roman Catholic and S. P. G. schools; and establishing an\nanglo-vernacular school of his own, in connecting with the Education\nDepartment of government. It has come to pass that every school for\nthe Burmese in the towns, _must_ have government registration, and\nmust teach English. Every boy, whether from a Christian or heathen\nhome, is bound to have the certificates which only registered schools\ncan give, and is bound to have an English education. If the missionary\ndoes not provide the opportunity the male children of his Christian\ncommunity will go where they can get it. The Education Department\nholds annual promotion-examinations. Certificates are given to all\nwho complete the course. These certificates are the condition of\nsecuring employment in government clerkships, mercantile houses, and\nin all schools connected with the Education Department. The boy who\npicks up his education in a vernacular school, or a non-registered\nschool, however proficient he may become, stands no chance in the\nrace. So much for the point of view from the native side. It is also\na generally recognized fact that non-Christian races never will be\nevangelized by the missionary alone. The great work of the missionary\nis to train up a native evangelizing agency through which he can\nmultiply himself, perpetuate himself, and establish a self-sustaining\nwork, that will go on when he shall have been compelled to lay it down.\n\nTime was when a middle-aged convert from a jungle village, with no\neducation beyond the ability to stumble through a chapter in his Bible\ncould do fairly effective service. Such men are still helpful outside\nof the towns, if helped by the missionary to a better understanding\nof their message. Evangelists of such limited training are far from\nideal, even for jungle tours. In the towns their influence is very\nslight.\n\nHow shall a stronger force be provided? Only through the mission\nschools,--there is no other way. It may be said that the missionary\nis not called upon to educate clerks for government. It is also true\nthat he is not called upon, by his Master, to decide beforehand what\nboys in his mission shall be educated for the ministry. Much of a\nboy's training must be given before he himself is sufficiently mature\nto comprehend a divine \"call\" to the ministry. If no place is given\nfor such a call, the native ministry will be filled with men who would\ndo better service in the rice-fields. Rice would be their main object\nin the ministry. Moreover, the preliminary training cannot even be\ndeferred until the boy is converted. The vocation of the preacher is\nnot hereditary, like that of the various castes in India. The son\nof a dacoit may be converted during his school life, and become a\npreacher. The son of a preacher may become a dacoit, or at least never\nfeel called to the Christian ministry. The mission school cannot even\nbe limited to children of Christian families. Opening the doors to\nall classes willing to pay for the advantages of the school greatly\nreduces its cost to the mission.\n\nIncrease of numbers does not involve increase in the number of\nclasses or teachers. Much of the expense is thereby placed where\nit belongs,--upon the people themselves. Opening the doors to all\nclasses furnishes the grandest field for evangelistic work within the\nmissionary's sphere of influence. Every day in the week Christian\ninfluences are brought to bear upon the same individuals; Christian\ntruths are inculcated; the creeds of false religions forestalled\nin youthful minds; prejudice against Christianity dispelled, and\neither during school life, or when the pupils are free to break\nfrom the control of heathen parents many converts are gained. From\nthese converts, as well as from children of Christian parents, come\naccessions to the mission force of teachers and evangelists. Paul was\n\"laid hold on by Christ Jesus\" for special service while he was yet\nas intense a hater of Christianity as can be found in Buddhist Burma.\nFrom among the unconverted children now in mission schools some,\nalready chosen in the foreknowledge of God, will be \"laid hold on\" to\nbe Gospel preachers to the rising generation.\n\nFrom the early days of Buddhism in Burma, even before the language\nwas reduced to writing there were monastic schools for the purpose of\nteaching boys the doctrines of the new religion. When the language was\nreduced to writing, all boys were compelled to attend the monastic\nschool to learn to read and write, in addition to the memorizing of\nportions of the sacred books. This is still the custom, where no\nEnglish schools are provided. With the advent of the English school\ncompulsory attendance at the monastery is continued for religious\npurposes only, and may be limited to the brief period required by the\nnovitiate ceremony, through which every boy must pass. This may extend\nto three months, or be cut short at the end of a week, according to\nthe zeal of the parents, or the anxiety to get the boy back into the\nEnglish school so that he may not lose his promotion examination.\nLet a boy spend a year in the monastery, and you have a full-fledged\nBuddhist to deal with. Take the same boy into the mission school at\nthe age of five or six, even earlier where there is a kindergarten\ndepartment, and you have a child who is no more a Buddhist than\nyour own little ones. Buddhism is not hereditary, it is the result\nof training and environment. Forestall that training by taking the\nchildren into the Christian school, and there train them in the\nblessed doctrines of Christianity. For the poisonous environment of\nthe heathen home and community, substitute the Christian influences\nof life in the mission school. For this purpose the boarding-school,\nin which the pupils are required to live, and be under Christian\ninfluences and safeguards day and night is worth vastly more than the\nday-school, which holds the pupils only during school hours, allowing\nthem to return at night to their heathen homes.\n\nBut the existence of the mission day-school, with its staff of native\nChristian teachers, and its daily Bible-study is amply justified by\nresults. The pupils thus kept away from the monastic school are not\nbeing indoctrinated in Buddhism; they are being indoctrinated in\nChristianity. Few children in Christian lands receive a like amount\nof Bible teaching. I venture to say that there are day-schools in\nBurma, made up largely of children from heathen homes, that could\nsuccessfully compete with the average Sunday-school in America in\nanswering questions on the Bible. Heathen parents of pupils in the\nday-school have complained that their children have already renounced\nBuddhist worship and customs, and openly preach Christ to their own\nparents. Whether these pupils are gathered into the Christian fold or\nnot, a few years hence they will be rearing families of their own. The\nnext generation, born of pupils now in mission schools, will not be\ntaught to hate everything in any way connected with the \"Jesus Christ\nreligion,\" as these pupils have been. Even the day-school is one of\nthe stepping-stones heavenward for these benighted people.\n\n[Illustration: PINEAPPLES AND JACKFRUIT]\n\nThe Karen village school-teacher, besides his regular work in the\nschool, brings his influence to bear on the parents as well, with\nthe result that in many instances the entire village is won to\nChristianity. Some of these teachers are marvels of consecration.\nPoorly fed, poorly clothed, often with no other pay than their meagre\nfare, far from home and friends,--they are worthy a place among the\nheroes of our time.\n\nScores of these schools are now in operation. Their value as an\nevangelizing agency can hardly be estimated. Many of these teachers\nare young men, just out of the training-school in town. Following the\nexample of the missionaries under whom they have been trained, and\ncatching something of their spirit, these young men have themselves\nbecome missionaries. If in Christian villages without settled pastors,\nnot only the children in the school, but men and women of all ages\nbecome their pupils, recognizing the young teachers' superior\ntraining, and willingly sitting at their feet, both in their homes\nand at the regular worship in the village chapel. If in non-Christian\nvillages the teacher, by his school and such other influences as he\ncan bring to bear, excites an interest in Christianity, of which as\nyet they know nothing.\n\nThey wanted a school because they had noticed, or had it impressed\nupon them by the missionary, that other villages were benefited by\nhaving schools. The missionary seizing the opportunity, inserts this\nentering wedge, with its Christian influences which they would not\naccept from the regular evangelist. The net is cast, and it gathers of\nevery kind. Soon \"the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence\" and the\nwhole village would take it by force, only checked by the requirements\nthat they utterly abandon their spirit-worship, and turn unto the Lord\nwith all their hearts.\n\nThis requirement not only differentiates the Christian villages from\nthe heathen, but from the Roman Catholic villages as well, for the\nlatter are allowed to retain all their old customs and vices, adding\nthereto the vices of their foreign teachers. Martin B. Anderson once\nwrote to a friend--\"The work of our eastern missions is vastly more\ncomprehensive than ordinary Christians suppose. It is nothing else\nthan the creation, among a heathen, semi-barbarous, and ignorant\npopulation, of the most advanced type of Christian civilization.\nThis at least ought to be the ideal which we should have before our\nminds, and for whose realization we should constantly labour. The\ncultivation of the moral and religious nature of man should be carried\non simultaneously with the highest practical development of the\nintellectual powers. Can such an education as our eastern converts\nrequire be communicated to them through their vernacular languages?\nMy own impression is that it cannot. It (the English language) comes\nto them freighted with all the intellectual accumulations of the\npast. It brings to them the terminology of spiritual religion, of\nthe science of the mind, and the science of God. Their preachers and\nteachers, and moral and political leaders must be trained in English,\nor their education will be inadequate and narrow.\"\n\nThe foregoing pages describe some of the many methods employed by our\nmissionaries, who would \"by all means ... save some.\"\n\n\n\n\nIX\n\n\"WITH PERSECUTIONS\"\n\n\nAmarapura had been the capital of Burma forty years when, in 1823, a\ngreat fire destroyed some of the royal buildings. Having decided that\nAmarapura was an unlucky place the capital was restored to Ava.\n\nJudson's first visit to the capital occurred at this time. The king\nhad requested him to open a mission at Ava, and offered land for the\npurpose. Then a war cloud on the western coast arose to darken his\nprospects. The British at Chittagong refused to deliver up certain\nBurmans who had taken refuge there.\n\nIn 1824 the Burman king declared war. Several Englishmen who were then\nat Ava, were seized and thrust into prison.\n\nJudson and his associate, Dr. Price, suspected of being in league with\nthe English, were also imprisoned.\n\nThe son of Bodawp'ra, known in history as Badawgyi, was then king.\n\nThe Burman kingdom, with the exception of Chittagong, was yet intact.\nThe haughty king imagined himself to be the most powerful monarch on\nearth; and that his cities were impregnable, his armies invincible.\nUnable to discriminate between Americans and Englishmen, the king\ncaused all white men to be thrown into prison together.\n\nEleven months at Ava and six months at Aungbinle Judson and Dr. Price\nsuffered indescribable misery.\n\nBound with chains, crowded in with scores of natives, famishing from\nlack of suitable food, the whole place reeking in filth. Mental\ndistress was almost equal to the physical, for Judson's beloved\nwife and child, whom he longed to see, were also suffering. In the\nprovidence of God their lives were spared, but they would feel the\neffects of such sufferings to the end of their days.\n\nA school history of Burma contains this touching reference to the\nreleased missionaries and Europeans: \"A sadder spectacle has seldom\nbeen presented to living human beings than that which was offered\nto the English camp by those liberated captives. They were covered\nwith filthy rags, they were worn to skin and bones, and their haggard\ncountenances, sunken, wandering eyes, told but too plainly the\nfrightful story of their long suffering, their incessant alarms,\nand their apprehension of a doom worse than death.\" Such was the\nexperience of the first missionary to Burma. The oft-repeated remark,\n\"The days of missionary heroism are past,\" has done much to deaden\ninterest in foreign missions. It is not my purpose to give a prominent\nplace to the subject of missionary sacrifices.\n\nA few illustrations, which might be multiplied, will serve to show to\nwhat extent the spirit of Burman Buddhists has changed since the time\nwhen they inflicted upon Judson such terrible tortures.\n\nIn 1842, a few years after Judson triumphantly held aloft the last\nleaf of the Bible translated into the Burman language, the first\nmartyr laid down his life \"for Christ's sake and the gospel's.\" His\nname was Klo Mai,--a converted Karen. A company of Burmans broke into\nhis house, abused him cruelly, threatening his life if he would not\nrecant.\n\nHis son Shwe Nyo, also a Christian, leaped to the ground and hid\nhimself in the jungle, but not until he had been severely stabbed.\nKlo Mai was dragged from his house and crucified by his heartless\ntormentors. Bound to a hastily constructed bamboo cross, in the form\nof a letter X, he was left to die, and did die, rather than deny his\nMaster.\n\nHis son Shwe Nyo, became an effective preacher of the gospel,\nstimulated to the greater earnestness by his father's faithful example.\n\nSurely he \"bore in his body the brand-marks of the Lord Jesus,\" for\nhe carried with him until his death in 1892, the scar of that stab\nreceived in his youth.\n\nBuddhism has been said to be the most tolerant of all non-Christian\nreligions; and the Burmese the most tolerant of all Buddhist peoples.\nThis may be true, up to a certain point. Judson gave as the reason why\nPortuguese Roman Catholics were left unmolested in Burma, that \"very\nfew Burmans entered that church, proselytism being the only thing in\nforeign religions to which Buddhists object.\" But to gain a convert\nfrom Buddhism he declared to be \"like pulling the tooth of a tiger.\"\n\nWith the establishing of an elaborate police-system, by the British\ngovernment, and the certainty that crime would be punished,\nmissionaries and native converts no longer had reason to fear the\nmore violent forms of persecution. But the Burman still found ways to\npersecute, without laying himself liable to the law of the land, when\none of his people had the temerity to forsake the ancestral religion.\n\nA case of this kind was very soon brought to our notice. Our personal\nteacher was a young convert. In his native village he had heard the\ngospel from a travelling evangelist; learned more from tracts that\nwere given him; believed what he heard and read, and openly declared\nhis belief to his people. This excited such anger and opposition\nthat he was obliged to run away from home. His people followed\nhim to the mission, threatening to kill him if he did not renounce\nChristianity, and return to his village. The young man again escaped\nfrom his persecutors, and remained in hiding until they returned to\ntheir homes. The missionary gave him the training he so earnestly\ndesired, and he became an effective preacher. A few years later, in\ncompany with the missionary and others, he returned to his village and\nopenly proclaimed Christ before them all. At our mission station a\nmiddle-aged man was led to Christ by this young man. The new convert's\nwife and others bitterly opposed his companying with the Christians,\nand attending their worship. When it became known that he was to be\nbaptized, his mother followed him to the river and earnestly besought\nhim to give up his crazy purpose. Failing in this she returned home\nand told his wife that her husband had actually _been baptized before\nher eyes_. This so enraged her that she snatched his clothing from\nits place, and would have cut it to bits had not the mother prevented\nher. For several days and nights the husband and father had to remain\naway from his family, waiting for the atmosphere to clear. At last the\nwife consented to live with him, but her continued opposition was a\nsource of great unhappiness until, a few years later, he was called\nto \"come up higher.\" At another mission station an old man became a\nconvert, and felt it his duty to be baptized. At first he shrank from\nit, knowing what the consequences would be, but he felt that he should\n\"obey God rather than man.\" His decision raised a terrible storm of\nopposition. His own grown-up children joined with the rest in calling\nhim crazy. They tore around like fiends, slapped and pushed the poor\nold man, and twice knocked him to the ground, before the missionary\ncould rescue him. It was a terrible test, but God was with him.\n\nEncouraged by the missionary, he walked out of the village to the\nwaterside, and without one of his relations to witness his \"obedience\nof faith\" he followed his Lord in baptism. Radiant with joy he\nreturned to the village, though he knew that henceforth his foes would\nbe \"they of his own household.\"\n\nAnother missionary has given the following account of the conversion\nand baptism of a pupil in one of the mission schools.\n\n     \"It gives me great joy to record the baptism of another of\n     our pupils, the first Burman to be converted in our school,\n     or in this town, so far as I know. He has come out amidst\n     bitter opposition and persecution from all his friends.\n\n     \"More than a year ago he asked his parents' consent to his\n     baptism, but received nothing but curses from his mother,\n     and tearful entreaties to postpone his baptism, from his\n     father. After waiting a year he told them firmly that he\n     had decided to obey God rather than man, and that if they\n     still withheld their consent he must be baptized without\n     it. So during a visit from Mr. ---- last month he presented\n     himself as a candidate for baptism. His sister came to the\n     preliminary meeting, and attempted to prevent his being\n     received. Failing in this she left in anger, threatening\n     him with a beating when he returned home. He had scarcely\n     left the riverside, when his mother appeared, and after\n     much loud and abusive language ordered him home, renewing\n     the sister's threat of a beating. He went obediently,\n     saying as he left, 'This is a very hard day for me, but I\n     can bear it with joy for Jesus' sake.'\n\n     \"They did not use personal violence, but employed every\n     other means to hurt and humiliate him. When he remained\n     steadfast they called in all their relations and friends,\n     a large and respectable company, for they are a family in\n     good standing, and spent the evening in trying, some by\n     gentle persuasion, some by threats and ridicule to make him\n     renounce his Christian faith. But he only answered that he\n     knew he had found the right way, and should never forsake\n     it. He even dared to preach to them of the true God, until\n     his father commanded him to stop.\n\n     \"The following Sunday they took away his jacket, and\n     threatened to come and curse us if he came to worship.\n     Since they have given up the hope of winning him back to\n     Buddhism, they simply ignore his presence in the house,\n     and have informed him that he is at liberty to eat at home\n     but will never receive another _pice_ from them while he\n     remains a Christian. His former friends have forsaken him,\n     some even refuse to speak to him. Yet he has not wavered\n     for a moment, and often says with a radiant face, 'This\n     religion is a very happy religion.'\"\n\nIn a distant village lived a young Christian Burman, with his heathen\nwife. He was the only Christian in the place, and for miles around.\nUnflinchingly he confessed Christ as his Saviour, in the face of much\nprejudice and opposition. One night men burst into his house and\ndemanded his money and other valuables. Not securing so much as they\nexpected, they began beating him with their clubs. He shouted with all\nhis might, but not a soul stirred in the surrounding houses. With each\nblow they reviled him saying, \"Can Jesus save you? Can Jesus Christ\nsave you?\" Having satisfied their brutal instincts, and being unable\nto secure more plunder they descended to the ground, dragging the\nyoung man with them. As they passed through the village they shouted\nthreateningly, \"Let no one follow us.\" There was little danger that\nany one would follow. There was not a light in the village, and not\na head showed itself. Doubtless some of the villagers were in league\nwith these villains, others were intimidated, supposing they were\ndacoits.\n\nThe young man, bruised and suffering, was forced to accompany his\npersecutors about a mile, where they released him. He worked his way\nback to the village, and on the following day persuaded two men to\ntake him to the nearest railway station, six miles away.\n\nJungle roads were impassable, but he made the journey astride a\nbuffalo. Reaching the mission station he was examined by the medical\nmissionary, who found that he had sustained a green fracture of\ntwo ribs, besides a serious scalp wound and many bruises. Acting\non information furnished by the missionary, the police traced\nand captured the whole band. They were sentenced to terms in the\npenitentiary, ranging from four to seven years.\n\nHere is an extract from a missionary's account of a tour made in 1883\nto a town in Upper Burma where now is a Christian church and school:\n\n     \"Before going north Maung ---- was warned not to use the\n     same boldness of speech that he was accustomed to use in\n     British Burma, lest they should kill him. But as far as I\n     observed he was bolder than ever, denouncing idolatry in\n     every form, and pleading the merits of Jesus Christ.\n\n     \"A German who had declared that there was not a true\n     conversion among the Burmans, was compelled to acknowledge\n     that he had been mistaken, for no man (said he) could face\n     what this one did who was not a Christian.\"\n\nAs has been said, there is little reason, at the present time, to fear\nfor one's life. But such instances of persecution as here given are\nbeing repeated at every station where mission work among Buddhists\nis being carried on. Here we have enacted before our eyes a living\ncommentary on these words of Christ: \"Think not that I came to send\npeace on the earth. I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I came\nto set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against\nher mother, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and a\nman's foes shall be they of his own household. He that loveth father\nor mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he that loveth son or\ndaughter more than me is not worthy of me.\" The doctrine that \"There\nis no other name whereby we must be saved\" inevitably would produce\nthis very result, as every missionary witnesses.\n\nIt is my profound conviction that missionaries and native converts owe\nthe safety of their lives, under God, to the strong arm of the British\nIndian government. Doubtless the majority of Burman Buddhists, if left\nto themselves, would tolerate any foreign religion in their midst.\n\nBut they are not left to themselves. The priest is the Pharisee of\nBuddhism; each idol-maker a modern Demetrius. The one says: \"Only\nby our hold upon the superstitious reverence of the people we have\nsustenance.\" The other says: \"Only by this business have we our\nwealth.\"\n\nBoth hate the Christian evangelist with a bitter hatred. Take away the\nstrong arm of the law which, by many severe lessons, they have learned\nto respect, these emissaries of Satan would make the advent of a\nChristian evangelist an occasion of rioting rivalling that of Ephesus.\n\nJudson's experiences would be repeated in the experience of many a\nmissionary. As it is there are scores of Buddhists who secretly admit\nthat Christianity is right, but dare not openly break away from the\ntoils of this Buddhist hierarchy.\n\nThe reign of Badawgyi, the king that imprisoned Dr. Judson, extended\nto 1857. During the last years his authority was but nominal.\n\nThe humiliation of his defeat by the English; loss of territory;\nand from 1830, the degradation of being compelled to have a British\nresident in the royal city finally drove him insane. In that condition\nhe remained until his death, in 1845. So ended the career of this\ncruel king under whom Dr. Judson suffered. At about this time the\ncapital was again transferred to Amarapura, which remained the capital\nuntil the founding of Mandalay, in 1860.\n\nAva was left to fall to ruin. From the founding of Ava until it was\nfinally abandoned, thirty kings had reigned there, for periods from a\nfew months up to thirty-eight years, including temporary changes of\nthe capital.\n\nI visited the site of Ava in August, 1903, crossing the Irrawadi\nRiver, from Sagaing. The old city wall, from which much of the\nbrickwork has been removed, still stretches along the bank of the\nriver for two miles. The main entrance, through which Judson must have\npassed and repassed, is still intact, though the great gates have\ndisappeared.\n\nThe city was built in the angle formed by the junction of the Irrawadi\nand Myitngi Rivers, and extended back along the Myitngi one and a\nhalf miles. A smaller inner wall enclosed the palace and other royal\nbuildings. Only one building of the entire city is still standing.\n\nThis building is of brick, plastered on the outside with cement,\nand represents the best workmanship of which their imported Indian\narchitects and masons were capable. It is about twenty-five feet\nsquare and seventy-five feet high, and is without doors or windows.\nThere was a brick and plaster stairway on the outside, winding around\nthe tower. From some unknown cause the tower long ago settled on one\nside, so that it leans fully six feet out of perpendicular. This\nsettling threw down the massive brick stairway, which now lies in\nchaotic ruin.\n\nThis lofty building, standing within the royal quarters, was the\nwatch-tower. From its top long views up and down the great river, and\nout over the open plains, could be obtained. Sentinels paced its top\nto give timely warning of the approach of an enemy. On a great gong\nthey struck the hours by day and night. The sound, easily reaching far\nbeyond the limits of the royal grounds, would be welcomed by Judson\nand his fellow sufferers to break the awful monotony of life in the\nmiserable prison, which stood outside the inner wall. The prison was\ndemolished many years ago, but within the memory of Burmans now living\nnear by. Around a large tree, that must have been large enough in\nJudson's time to furnish partial shade from the fierce rays of the\ntropical sun, a circular platform of old brickwork still remains.\nBroken brick and roofing-tile cover the ground.\n\nMuch of the site of the old city is covered with tangled\njungle-growth, through which chetahs and other animals sometimes\nprowl. A score of Burmans are slowly digging up the ground to the\ndepth of about three feet over the entire area once covered by the\nroyal buildings. Now and then their labours are rewarded by finds of\njewelry or silver.\n\nThe finer earth below the layer of _d\u00e9bris_ is washed for gold dust,\nfrom the many gold-decorated buildings that have marked the spot\nthrough the reign of many kings.\n\nThe sight of the Ava prison having been identified beyond a doubt, the\nBaptists of America would do well to place there a suitable monument\nto mark the spot where their first missionary suffered so much \"for\nChrist's sake and the gospel's.\"\n\nAfter suffering for eleven long months at Ava the prisoners were\ntransferred to Aungbinle, a day's journey to the northeast. In\ncompany with the missionary at Mandalay I rode to the place, two\ndays before my visit to Ava. Aungbinle is about five miles east of\nMandalay, towards the hills. Among the public works of Bodawp'ra, who\nreigned from 1789 to 1819, was an artificial lake, formed by a raised\nembankment of earth enclosing about fifteen square miles of the nearly\nlevel plain.\n\nThis was filled by means of a canal connecting with a natural lake two\nor three miles farther north, fed by mountain streams.\n\nIn these two reservoirs abundance of water for irrigation could be\nstored for use through the many rainless months. This artificial lake\nwas called \"Aung-binle\"--the conquered or shut-in sea.\n\nAt its southwest bend Aungbinle village still stands, though its\nthatch-and-bamboo houses have been renewed ten times over since Judson\nwas brought there to be thrown into the death-prison.\n\nThe site of this prison also has been identified beyond a reasonable\ndoubt. An aged Burman there pointed out the spot to missionaries who\nwere investigating the matter several years ago.\n\nA Burman official who had been there many years, and was familiar\nwith land-titles, confirmed the old man's story. More recently an\nold brick pathway was discovered when ditching the road that passes\nthe prison-site. This further corroborated the statement of the two\nBurmans that the police quarters were on the north side of this road,\nand the prison on the south. There is little room for doubt that the\nbrick pathway connected the two. The prison itself was only a bamboo\nstructure, of which nothing would now be left.\n\nA Buddhist monastery erected later near the prison-site, was destroyed\nby fire a few years ago. There are two pagodas within a stone's throw,\none of which may have stood there in Judson's time.\n\nExcept a few slender palms, the region must have been treeless, the\nheat indescribable. The location of Mrs. Judson's house is uncertain.\nJudging from the situation of the village, and the character of the\nland near by it must have been quite near the prison.\n\n[Illustration: ELEPHANTS AT WORK]\n\nThe Baptist mission has secured about two acres of land, including\nthe prison-site. By the generous gift of two American Baptists who\nrecently visited Aungbinle, a neat and substantial brick chapel has\nbeen erected on the prison-site, as nearly as can be determined. A\nlittle farther back, and to one side, is the Burman preacher's house,\nalso included in the gift. The missionary, who frequently visits\nthe village, has provided a miniature cottage of thatch-and-bamboo,\nin which to rest and find protection from the mid-day heat. As one\nattempts to realize the situation as it was,--Judson suffering untold\nagonies, aggravated by his heartless tormentors,--in the miserable\nprison; Mrs. Judson, in her isolation and friendlessness, suffering\nfrom privation, intolerable heat, disease, and the yet greater mental\nsuffering on account of her husband who might at any moment be led\nto execution before her eyes,--the picture becomes more and more\nterrible. Then as we turn again to the chapel and preacher's house\nour thoughts rise in praise to Him who has wrought these changed\nconditions. On the very spot where the innocent and the guilty were\ntogether imprisoned and tortured, an earnest man of God, of the same\nrace as the king by whose order these men suffered,--now proclaims\nJesus Christ as the world's Saviour.\n\nAs I turned away from this spot, and again as I passed out through\nthe old gateway at Ava, it was with an earnest prayer that a double\nportion of Judson's spirit might rest upon his successors in this\nheathen land.\n\n\n\n\nX\n\nHEROES AND HEROINES\n\n\nIf heroes and heroines are men and women who have shown startling\nqualities in time of stress and strife, many such may be found among\nconverts from heathenism. The examples here given are from my own\nfellow workers.\n\nU Po Hline, pastor of the church at Pyinmana, is well known in the\nBurman mission. A conspicuous figure at conventions and associations,\nhis massive form, intelligent face, and dignified bearing mark him a\n\"Saul among his brethren.\" But U Po Hline's interesting history is\nnot so well known. His early life was spent in the yellow robes of\nthe Buddhist priesthood. There he learned the real inwardness and\nemptiness of the ancestral religion. In it he could not find that\nwhich could satisfy his spiritual sense; nor was he satisfied to lead\nthe indolent, selfish life of the Buddhist priest.\n\nBut familiarity with their arguments and contents of their sacred\nbooks, gained during the years of monastic life, was yet to be turned\nto good account. Casting off the yellow robes he became a tiller of\nthe soil. By industry and good management not common to his race, he\npossessed himself of rice-fields, bullocks, and buffaloes, and money\ninterests among the villagers where he lived.\n\nLoyalty to the British Indian government never has been, and is not\nto-day true of the mass of Burmans. U Po Hline's broader intelligence\nled him not only to accept the inevitable, but also to see what\nbenefits would accrue to his race from English rule. He used his\ninfluence to restrain his people from acts of violence, and in various\nways lent his aid to the progress of law and order.\n\nIn those troublous times he had an adventure, of which he never speaks\nunless questioned on the subject. Returning from Rangoon where he had\nmarketed his harvest of _tsan_,--unhulled rice,--he and his boatmen\nwere attacked by dacoits. The boatmen, terrified by the fiendish yells\nof these desperate dacoits, threw down their paddles and would have\ntried to escape by taking to the water. Not so U Po Hline.\n\nNeither his life nor his rupees were to be taken so easily. Crawling\nunder the _paung_, he seized his rifle, and,--to use his own\nwords--\"Two of the dacoits sank in the water, and did not reappear.\"\nThe tables were turned. The dacoits, now as badly frightened as\nthe boatmen, lost no time in taking to the brush. U Po Hline still\nremembers the adventure with the sad feeling that although acting\nin self-defense, he sent two souls into eternity unprepared. His\nconversion is especially interesting. A copy of the New Testament,\ngiven him by a native evangelist, was the means of shaking his faith\nin Buddhism; and of awakening a desire to know more about the \"Jesus\nChrist religion.\"\n\nRelating the circumstances of his conversion he said: \"I kept my New\nTestament in my jacket pocket wherever I went. When resting from my\nwork I would take out my Testament and read a little, slowly going on\nthrough Matthew, Mark, and Luke,--but I understood nothing of what\nI read. I read about the birth of Jesus Christ, His teaching, His\nwonderful miracles,--but who Christ was I did not know. Then I came\nto John. In the first chapter I read: 'In the beginning was the Word,\nand the Word was with God and the Word was God.' Then a little farther\ndown I read: 'That Word everything created; and without a divine\ncreating was not so much as one thing.' Is that so, I said. Did that\nWord make _me_? and not only me, but everybody and everything in all\nthis great world? And then I read that He was the Light, and the Light\nshines in the darkness, and the darkness would not receive it. Why, I\nsaid, that is just the way it is here. These people are in the dark,\nand will not believe what the preachers of the Jesus Christ religion\nsay to them.\n\n\"Then still farther down I read: 'The Word took the state of man, and\nlived among us.' And as I read on, I found that the Word that was with\nGod, and was God; and created all things; and became flesh and lived\non earth was the same Jesus Christ that I had been reading about in\nMatthew, Mark and Luke! I went home and told my wife that I had become\na Christian; and that as the preacher said that all who enter the\nJesus Christ religion must receive the dipping ceremony I am going\nto get baptism.\" \"Were you not afraid your heathen neighbours would\nmake trouble?\" I asked him. \"What trouble could they make, teacher?\nNearly all of them were in debt to me. But when I told my heathen\nwife, she was very angry, and said, 'Very well. If you want to be\nbaptized,--_be_ baptized,--but I _will not be a Jesus Christ wife_. I\nnever, never will live with you.' Finding that she would not relent I\nsaid: 'Do not go away.\n\n\"'All this trouble is not because of your changing, but because of my\nchanging. If anybody is to suffer, I must be the one to suffer. There\nare the eleven buffaloes, and the six rice-fields, and the house, and\nthe banana garden,--take everything,--only let me have the thirty\nrupees in the box, and I will go away. I will go to Toungoo. If they\nwill not baptize me there, I will go to Henzada. If they will not\nbaptize me there, I will go to Bassein. If they will not baptize me\nthere, I will go to Maulmein.' I had taken the Jesus Christ religion\nwith my whole mind, and I was determined to be baptized.\" This was no\nidle boast.\n\nHe meant just what he said, and, like Paul, was ready to suffer the\nloss of everything, that he \"might gain Christ, and be found in Him.\"\n\nHis example, so unlike his former self, soon softened his wife's\nheart, and she now said: \"Never mind, do as you like,--we will live\ntogether.\"\n\nNot long afterwards she too became a Christian. Wherever U Po Hline\nwent he fearlessly preached Christ. But it was in his own village\nthat his influence was specially felt. His faithfulness and success\nseemed sufficient evidence of a call to the ministry. Greatly needing\nsuch helpers, I soon arranged for him to give his whole time to\nevangelistic work. His ordination, at the Pegu Association held in\nToungoo in 1894,--will long be remembered by the missionaries present.\n\nA missionary at a frontier station sent a request that an ordained\npreacher be furnished to baptize several converts already gained, and\nto accompany his young preachers on a tour among the villages.\n\nThe matter was laid before U Po Hline, and left for him to decide\nwhether he wished to go, or could stand the long hard journey over\nthe mountain ranges. Accepting it as a call from God, and trusting\nto Him for strength, he got ready and started at once. After spending\na month in that distant field, he prepared to return to his home. It\nwas a long tramp of sixteen days. The missionary gave him money to\nhire a coolie to help carry his load. Besides his roll of bedding,\ncooking utensils and food, one of the young preachers had given him\nthree lacquer-ware vessels, as presents for his former teachers.\nThe coolie must be paid in advance, according to the custom of the\ncountry. After going a few miles the coolie found an excuse to get out\nof U Po Hline's sight, and ran away, taking the money with him. At\nthe next village another coolie was engaged, who must also be paid in\nadvance. They had gone but a short distance when he too ran away. U Po\nHline was now without money to pay for help, so he trudged on alone,\ncarrying the load of two.\n\nHe got along very well so long as his path lay along the mountains.\nBut when he descended into the plains his strength gave out, and he\nfound himself burning with fever. There was no other way than to plod\non, as he was now far from any village. Finding himself unable to\ncarry all of his double load, he first threw away some of the cooking\nutensils.\n\nGrowing weaker, he threw away the bottle of oil and part of the rice.\n\nHe would not part with the presents that had been entrusted to his\ncare for the teachers, whom he loved. To give the rest of the story\nin his own words:--\"I would plod on until my legs would sustain me no\nlonger. Then on my knees I would pray: 'O Father, I have been away\ndoing Thy work, I did the best I could, now give me strength to reach\nmy home.'\n\n\"Then I would get up and go on again until, from weakness, I fell down\nin the path. Then I would pray again: 'O Father, I have been away to\ndo Thy work. I did the very best I could. Now do give me strength to\nreach my home.' So I went on, falling, praying, struggling on again,\nuntil at last I reached the cart-road, and joined some cartmen. I had\ncarefully saved my last rupee to pay my fare when I should come to the\nrailroad. I thought,--if I must, I can sell my silk turban. But the\ncartmen were kind, and gave me food, while I preached to them.\" As he\nfinished his story he untied the bundle, and laid the lacquer-ware\npresents at our feet, utterly unconscious of the fact that by his\ndevotion to his teachers, and to what seemed to be his duty he had\nshown a spirit of true heroism, worthy to be \"told as a memorial\" of\nhim.\n\nA short time before I left Burma U Po Hline came to me and said,\n\"Saya, I have been thinking like this:--The Apostle Paul said to the\nCorinthian Christians, 'Paul planted, Apollos watered; but God gave\nthe increase.' When Saya came to Pyinmana thirteen years ago there\nwas not a Christian in this town nor in all this great jungle. No nor\never had been. It was all wild, the dwelling place of dacoits, tigers,\nbears, and snakes. Saya has been planting all these years. There has\nbeen some reaping, to be sure,--but much more is ready for reaping.\nWhen I first came to Pyinmana, wherever I showed myself, in Bazar or\nstreet, the people would call to one another: 'Come and see Jesus\nChrist, come and see Jesus Christ.' 'Yes,' I would say, 'I am here to\nrepresent Jesus Christ.' Sometimes they would listen to my preaching,\nbut often they would jeer so that I could not preach, they were so\nignorant and wild.\n\n\"But now, besides our little company of Christians, there are\nmany in these villages who listen attentively, and some are truly\n'considering.'\n\n\"Now Saya must return to America, and another Saya will come. Don't\ngo away discouraged, Saya. We shall _soon be reaping_ here. You will\nhear about it, and be glad. If it is God's will that you return to\nBurma, you will 'come rejoicing.' When I first came to Pyinmana,\"--he\ncontinued; \"I had a dream. In my dream I saw great fields of rice on\nthree sides of this town. These fields were turning yellow, promising\nan early and large harvest. How like the Bible, is my dream, I\nthought. This dream strengthened my faith and made me glad. God's time\nis not yet full, but I believe it will be full soon. This Pyinmana\nmission is Corinth. Saya is Paul. Saya has planted, the coming\nmissionary will be Apollos, to water the planting. God will give the\nincrease.\" May this noble Christian hero live many years, to cheer and\nhelp the missionaries, in their common effort to dispel the heathen\ndarkness.\n\nThis faithful native pastor is but one of many who hold not their\nlives dear to themselves that they may accomplish their course and the\nministry which they have received from the Lord Jesus, to testify the\ngospel of the grace of God.\n\nNan Paw was born in Ya-bok-kon village, in the year 1877,--so\nshe thinks, but is not certain as to the village or the date. When\nwe first saw her she was an orphan, as to her father; worse than\norphaned as to her heathen mother. Both Nan Paw and her elder sister\nhad already been several years in the mission school. The sister,\nMai Lone, came first. Now and then she returned to her village home\nwith such wonderful stories of tidy white jackets, pretty _longyis_\n(skirts), clean beds, and nice new books, that little Nan Paw wanted\nto come too. She wanted to see the big \"white mamma,\" and enjoy the\nlife that her sister was leading. Mai Lone had learned to read,--a\nwonderful thing for a girl to do. Not a girl in the whole village\ncould read, no, not even her own mother! And Mai Lone could sing,\ntoo! Little Nan Paw sighed for these privileges and accomplishments,\nand was a heathen no longer. Never again could she know contentment\namong the dogs and filth and degradation of her own village. But in\nvain she entreated her mother to let her go with Mai Lone to live\nat the mission school. Finding that her pleadings were of no avail,\nshe took the matter into her own hands, and _ran away_. The mother\nfinding her little girl settled down in the mission dormitory to stay,\nfinally gave her consent. When we came to take charge of the school\nNan Paw had already overtaken the older girls in her studies. The\nsmallest in the class, she was head and shoulders above them all in\nbrightness and winsomeness. To see her was to love her. It would not\ndo to make a pet of her, for petting spoils native children as quickly\nas kittens. Quick to see what needed to be done, and how to do it, she\nsoon became very useful about the house. A little later a Christian\nEndeavour Society was organized. Nan Paw may have learned to love\nJesus before this; but now, with several others she gave herself to\nHim fully and openly, and to the great joy of all, was baptized. The\nyears rolled by,--and Nan Paw, having passed through all the grades\nof the mission school, became a teacher. During a vacation she made a\nvisit to some of her heathen relations in a distant village. When the\nschool reopened she did not return to her duties. Several weeks had\npassed when we learned that she had returned to her mother's village.\nWe sent word to her two or three times, urging her to return to the\nschool, though we could not compel her to do so. At last one of the\nChristians went to her home to ascertain, if possible, why she had\nbecome unfaithful to her duties as a Christian teacher. He brought\nback word that something was the matter with Nan Paw. When he tried to\ntalk with her she would keep her hands covered, and try to conceal her\nface behind her scarf. With a sad face he said, \"I think our Nan Paw\n_is a leper_.\"\n\nMeasures were taken at once to ascertain the facts. Alas it was too\ntrue. In some way or other,--whether by heredity or contagion we could\nnot learn,--our dear Nan Paw had become a victim to that terrible\ndisease. How our hearts ached for her. Now we knew why she had not\nreturned to the school. While we were fearing that she was yielding\nto heathen influences; and that she was making a poor return for all\nthe affection we had bestowed upon her, the dear girl's heart was\nnearly breaking. She knew that she must bid farewell to her pleasant\nlife in the mission, and to her beloved associates. All aspirations\nto support herself, to rise in her chosen work, to be respected, to\nmarry well--were utterly crushed. Henceforth she must be an outcast,\ndespised by her own people. Nothing before her but a living death, the\ndisease steadily growing upon her, until fingers and toes would waste\naway, her whole body become covered with repulsive sores,--and no\npower on earth could help her.\n\nAfter a time arrangements were made to send her to the Leper Asylum at\nMandalay, over two hundred miles away. There, under the direction of\nthe missionary in charge Nan Paw became a teacher of others--afflicted\nlike herself. It would not have been strange had she utterly given\nup to despair,--and sought release by death. But with wonderful\nsubmission she gave herself to Christian work,--the only woman in the\nasylum who could read and teach the Word of God.\n\nHere is a translation of one of Nan Paw's letters to her sister:\n\n     \"Sister, to you a letter do I send. By the kindness of God\n     I am come to the Home for Lepers, in Mandalay. Here am I\n     to teach His law, and in teaching it I am glad. For this\n     purpose, I am persuaded, has He brought me here. Whether I\n     am to remain all my life, or for a little while I know not.\n     My prayer is that God may quickly take me to Himself.\n\n     \"Why He has brought this affliction upon me I do not know.\n\n     \"When I consider (my condition) my heart is exceeding\n     sorrowful.\n\n     \"The teacher has been very kind, and spent much money upon\n     me. The physician is good. Now in all things, my sister,\n     I place myself in the hand of God. In so far as I am able\n     I will strive to do His will. That I may be happy in\n     proclaiming His law, will you ever pray.\n\n             \"Your affectionate sister,\n                             \"NAN PAW.\"\n\nBut after a year in the asylum Nan Paw longed to return to her native\nvillage. This she was permitted to do. The disease grew worse and\nworse.\n\nHer people, backed by the village priest, then made a determined\neffort to break down this poor girl's faith in Christ, and turn her\nagain to Buddhism. They knew how to cure the disease, they claimed,\nand would cure it if she would worship the priest. Pressed beyond\nendurance she at last in sheer despair prostrated herself before\nthe priest in the attitude of worship. They then gave her medicine\nseveral months, the disease all the time growing upon her. Not only\nthe terrible leprosy of the body, but her soul was troubled with the\nthought that by dishonouring her Lord she had become leprous with sin.\n\nOne day when they wanted her to join them in their heathen worship she\nbroke out in great indignation: \"No I _never_ will worship like that\nagain. By your false and useless promises you made me deny my Lord.\nBut from this time I do it no more. I turn again to my own God, who\ncan at least save my soul.\" Again Nan Paw sent word that she wished to\ngo back to the asylum. She was an outcast in her own village, and in\nher own mother's home. No one dared to see her. She cared to see no\none. At the Asylum she could be no unhappier. There all would be alike\nunfortunate,--birds of a feather flock together.\n\nI immediately arranged for her return. The native Christians\ncontributed generously to make up the required sum. As Nan Paw would\nbe a teacher, the superintendent kindly offered to provide special\nquarters for her, apart from the other lepers. I sent word to Nan\nPaw that I wished to see her before she went away, for I was soon to\nreturn to America, and might never see her again; that I loved her as\na daughter, just the same as before her misfortune. But she sent back\nthe pathetic reply: \"To dear teacher this brief letter I write. That\nGod may pour a blessing upon teacher and all the church members I am\npraying.\n\n\"But I am not fit to be seen. To show my face I am ashamed. I do not\neven meet my friends in the village. Therefore please excuse me. By\nthe half-past eight train I am going to Mandalay. There is with me a\nvery great sorrow. In no place is there any gladness. Only sorrow's\ntears are ever falling. Now because teacher, by the favour of God, is\ntrying to help me, it is a great kindness. And teacher has written\nfavourably to Mandalay in order that I may go. That I may be set free\nfrom my great sorrow, and that God may speedily gather to Himself my\nsoul, ever pray.\" But when circumstances made it necessary for her to\ncome to my house she overcame her fears, and in the dim light let me\ntalk with her, face to face. Again I assured her that \"Sayah and Mama\"\nloved her the same as before; that her Saviour's love was just the\nsame; that by and by we would be together in heaven, and all be alike,\nwith all these earthly distresses left behind.\n\nIn the asylum Nan Paw is the only Christian woman among about\nseventy-five of her own sex and race. Every day she conducts religious\nexercises; and every Sunday she stands by the pulpit in the chapel\nto set forth Christ as Saviour. After she had been there a few weeks\nshe sent back this letter: \"Dearly beloved teacher. I reverently\ngreet you, and pray that God may pour His Spirit upon you and all\nthe Christians, to do His work. Especially, according to teacher's\nefforts, in order to do the divine work in this place,--by God's\nguidance I have come.\n\n\"There have now been three Sundays, and I have preached. The first\nSunday I explained Matt. 5:1-12. The second Sunday I explained John\n3:1-21. The third Sunday I explained Acts 13:1-12,--about the ruler's\nfaith and God's power. God planned that I should be brought to this\nplace. Nevertheless, teacher,--though I seek ease of mind in this\nworld, I find only distress. Therefore pray that God may speedily take\nmy spirit. Because teacher,--according to the will of God, has helped\nme, I praise God's mercy.\n\n             \"Your daughter,\n                    \"MA NAN PAW.\"\n\nIn this child of the jungle, brought to Christ through the agency of\nthe mission school, stricken with a loathsome disease in the prime\nof life; submissively bowing to the will of God, and striving to\nshow others how to escape from the leprosy of sin, we see the true\nmartyr-spirit. One day the Master will come and touch her with His\nfinger, saying \"Be thou clean,\" and receive her into His Paradise\nabove.\n\n\n\n\nXI\n\nPECULIAR EXPERIENCES\n\n\nIt is well for the weary worker in a strange land that with the\naustere and sublime, there is now and then a spicing of the ridiculous.\n\nHappy the man who is so constituted as to appreciate the ridiculous\nwhen it happens. A few such instances will serve to illustrate the\nmany-sidedness of missionary life. The first was when the writer\nwas a new missionary; otherwise it might not have happened. The\nboarding-school occupied the ground floor of the mission bungalow, the\nmissionaries living above it. One day a great commotion was heard in\nthe schoolyard. Looking out of the window, the school children could\nbe seen scattering in all directions. The old saying \"Every man for\nhimself, and the devil take the hindmost,\" was being enacted in a very\nrealistic manner.\n\nHard after the \"hindmost\" was a demoniac, a crazy Karen woman.\n\nEvidently the children had been teasing her, but oh how they did\nrepent, as they ran! This terrible creature had seized a short bamboo,\nand was rushing after them in insane fury. Poising it like a spear,\nshe hurled it endwise. Happily it missed its mark, or there would\nhave been a name or two to strike off the school roll. Advancing at\ndouble-quick I got between the children and the enemy before she\ncould make another charge. Whether by faith or by force I must now\ncast out a demon. Pointing to the gate, I said \"_go_.\" She went not.\n\"_Go_,\" I repeated, and suiting the action to the word, started for\nthe gate with my incumbrance. Started,--only that and nothing more.\nThere seemed to be two opinions as to ways and means. I recalled a\nremark--\"The natives are coming to think for themselves.\" It must\nbe true. This particular native suddenly collapsed, sinking to the\nground, in a disgusting heap of obstinacy. Filthy beyond description,\nhair matted and tangled, her whole person so covered with vermin that\nshe was scarcely responsible for her movements,--what to do with\nher I was at a loss to know. It was a larger contract than had been\nbargained for. Something must be done, or the missionary would lose\nprestige with the school, and be subjected to repeated annoyances by\nthis crazy woman. Picking her up by main strength, we started again.\nThere was a short struggle at the corner of the house, where she\ngrasped a post with both arms, and held on with the tenacity of an\noctopus. Disengaging her from the post, I thought to get up sufficient\nmomentum to carry her safely through the gate, but failed. Again\nthere was a tug of war. Again might made right, and our unsavoury\nguest gave up the struggle. Casting back a wild but vanquished look,\nshe departed, never to come back.\n\nWe will pass to the \"hot season\" of our second year.\n\nThe missionaries of the station were spending a few weeks of it on a\nmountain twenty miles from town. One mission building was in process\nof construction,--work that demanded frequent inspection. To look\nafter this work I must make the round trip of forty miles once a week,\n_while resting_. At one time, passing through a Karen village, the\npastor lent me his pony for the journey. On reaching town I threw the\nlines to a schoolboy, who unsaddled the pony and turned it loose in\nthe compound. When ready to return to the mountains it was found that\nthe pony had walked out through an open gate, and was missing. Search\nwas made, but the pony was nowhere to be seen. While waiting for the\nday to cool, the pony returned of his own accord, and came trotting\ninto the compound. This was luck indeed. The schoolboy quickly saddled\nand bridled the pony, and away I went, anxious to make up the time I\nhad lost. Arriving at the Karen village I hitched the pony under the\nowner's house. A grown-up daughter sitting on the stairs, modestly\ninquired \"Where is _our_ pony?\" \"What's the matter with _this_ pony?\"\nI asked. \"_Our_ pony is a _male_,\" she said. The missionary took off\nhis hat. He scratched his head. It was dawning upon him that he was in\na pretty mess. If this is not the pony I borrowed, then where is he?\nand whose pony have I stolen? And where shall I find the money to pay\nfor the other pony, if not recovered,--which is an even chance? how\nshall I explain being in possession of this one, if called to account?\nIt did not take long for these questions to go through my mind. The\ncase called for prompt action, but my empty stomach was calling for\nfood. Mounting the stolen pony I proceeded up the mountain. Before\nreaching camp, the Karen pastor's son came hurrying up the path,\nriding on the lost pony. The pony had returned to his own village,\nfifteen miles, afoot and alone. One problem was solved, and my mind\nrelieved to that extent. But in the eye of the law, should the law\nfind it out,--I was a criminal, for my explanation might or might not\nbe accepted. As the sun was going down, one of the larger schoolboys\nwho was at the camp,--started back to town with the other pony. I\ngave him a letter addressed to the police, taking upon myself the\nresponsibility. The boy was not to trouble the police if the police\ndid not trouble him. Going by the most unfrequented roads, he arrived\nin town before midnight. Turning the pony loose where first seen,\nhe hurried back to the mountain as fast as his legs would carry him,\nreaching camp before sunrise. The missionary never knew whose pony he\nhad taken. It is doubtful whether the owner ever missed it.\n\nAt one time I was passing through an unfamiliar jungle accompanied by\na coolie, who also acted as guide. Darkness was coming on and good\ntime must be made, or we must spend the night in the jungle.\n\nComing to a place where two roads met, I chose the right hand road but\nthe guide insisted that the left hand road was the one to take. The\nmissionary reluctantly yielded to the coolie's better knowledge of the\njungle paths. We went on and on, but instead of coming out into open\ncountry, the jungle grew more and more dense. We were lost. It was now\npitch dark, so that even the wrong road could no longer be followed.\nThere was nothing left but to spend the night where we were. Just as\nwe had made up our minds to this, I caught sight of a light, through\nthe trees. Groping our way ahead we discovered that we were near a\nsmall Karen village. In response to our shouts two men came to meet\nus, with guns and torches. They were Christian Karens, and glad to\nfind that the belated guest was a missionary, rather than a dacoit.\nI soon made myself at home with the family and until a late hour\nfriendly conversation was kept up, through the medium of Burmese. The\nchildren were brought to be inspected and _praised_. The baby, several\nmonths old, had not been named. Wouldn't the teacher please give\nthe baby a name? It is quite customary for the Karens to ask their\nmissionaries to name the babies. To this particular missionary, whose\nwork was wholly among Burmans, it was a unique experience. He had a\ndear relative in the home-land, named Julia. She should be honoured\nwith a namesake. \"Please write it out, because we might forget it,\"\nthey said. But there was not a scrap of paper in the house. Taking\nthe cover from one of my lunch cans the name was carefully scratched\non the inside with a pocket knife, and handed over to be laid up in\nthe family archives. At last the baby had a name, and the mother was\nhappy. Now it was time, and long past time, to get a little sleep. The\nbest mat was unrolled and spread in the open front, for the teacher.\nIn the coolie's baskets was a change of clothing, greatly needed after\nthe dust and perspiration of this long day,--but how could clothing be\nchanged?--Nor husband nor wife nor daughter would retire until they\nshould see how the teacher did it. The natives themselves usually\nsleep in the same clothes they have worn all day. Is a change desired\nthey have only to put on an extra _longyi_--skirt, and let the inner\nskirt fall to the floor. They have no idea how the white people are\ndressed, until they see them undress. Such an event is too rare to be\nmissed. Husband, wife, and grown-up daughters will stand by, with all\nthe interest of a medical class in a dissecting room, while he takes\nhimself apart, picking up each piece as he lays it off, with comments\nsuch as only the untutored child of the jungle would ever think of.\nThere was no help for it,--so, kicking off my shoes, I stretched out\nas I was, with my saddle for a pillow. The family then retired, but\nevidently feeling that they had not seen their money's worth.\n\nWishing to enjoy the luxury of a bath in a stream, one is sometimes\nobliged to wander off in the opposite direction, to throw the\nvillagers off the scent. Were his purpose known, he would have so\nmany of the native maidens at his heels, as to render the situation\nsomewhat embarrassing.\n\nAt break of day we were conducted through the jungle by a short cut\nto the path we should have followed. Having no opportunity to revisit\nthat village, I never knew what became of little \"U-lee.\"\n\nAnother experience was certainly interesting at the time, and might\nhave been the last, with no one to describe it. Returning alone from a\njungle tour, I reached a river at nine o'clock at night.\n\nThere was no moon, but the stars were shining. The opposite bank, high\nand steep, could be dimly seen against the sky. During the floods of\nthe rainy season the bank had caved off, so that neither man nor beast\ncould ascend it. The natives had dug out a narrow path diagonally up\nthe bank. In the darkness this path could not be seen from the other\nside. Two Burmans, who were fishing by torchlight, pointed out the\ndirection in which the path would be found. Taking a star to steer by,\nI forced the pony into the river. Soon the water became too deep for\nfording, and I felt the rather uncomfortable sensation of riding in\nthe saddle on a swimming pony. By daylight it would not have been so\nserious, though the current was strong. In the darkness and alone, it\nwas not so pleasant to be in deep water, in mid-river.\n\nThe pony struggled bravely on until he reached the bank, and scrambled\nup on a ledge of joint-clay. There was no path to be seen. The pony\nhad landed in a little cove where the perpendicular bank rose from\nthe water's edge. Back into the river he must go. This he refused to\ndo. Getting between the pony and the wall I pushed him off the ledge,\nspringing into the saddle as he went down. The pony was then headed up\nstream, first swimming around a tree that had fallen into the river.\nNo path to be found in that direction. Returning down-stream, now\nwading, now swimming--the path was found at last.\n\nA thankful missionary sat down on the bank under the twinkling stars,\nand wrung the water out of his clothes as best he could, before\ncontinuing his journey.\n\nThe missionary candidate dreams of the time when he will break\nthe bread of life to the heathen. His dream will be realized, in\ntime,--but he will do a great many other things, of which he never\ndreamed.\n\nHe may not know a plane from a plummet, yet there are houses to build,\nand he must be both architect and superintendent. He must understand,\nor learn to understand everything that pertains to the upkeep and\nconduct of a large mission, with its many-sided work. He may not know\nthe use of the simplest remedies, but must be doctor for scores, and\nperhaps hundreds of people. The writer had this to go through, and\nsome of his earlier patients still live to tell how much quicker they\nmight have recovered if the teacher had not treated them.\n\nOn one occasion a boy came for medicine. He looked very thin and weak.\nHe wanted medicine for fever and diarrhoea. The usual questions were\nasked as to frequency of attacks, etc. When the medicine had been\nprepared the missionary said: \"You take one dose now, and another when\nyou retire----\" when the boy spoke up, \"Oh, no,--it is not for _me_,\nit's for _mother_.\"\n\nA pupil in the school had frequent fits. The Buddhist priest said that\nan evil spirit had taken up his abode in the boy. His people came to\nme, saying that the priest had tried to cast out the evil spirit, but\nhad failed. \"Bring him to me,\" I said, \"I will cast the spirit out.\"\nHe came, swallowed a strong vermifuge, and a dose of castor oil,\nputting an end to his demoniacal antics.\n\nOne of the saddest times in the missionary's life is when he must\nlay down his work, and take an imperatively needed change in the\nhome-land. That it will be no small loss to himself,--in the\ninevitable sacrifice of household effects,--is the least of his\nanxieties. But even in this experience he will find a silver lining\nto his cloud, as he turns it over. A fellow-worker once unwittingly\nhelped us to a hearty laugh,--just when we were most needing such a\nreaction.\n\nBoxes had been packed, and were being duly labelled for the home\nvoyage. One piece, to be stowed in the hold of the steamer, had just\nbeen marked with black paint. Our friend sat down on this box during\nhis brief call, none of us thinking of the fresh label. As he turned\nto go we saw plainly stamped in reverse order across his white duck\npants--\"NOT WANTED.\"\n\n\n\n\nXII\n\nOBSTACLES\n\n\nTo many minds there is great fascination in the thought of\nself-sacrifice. Separation from native land and loved ones, to spend\none's life in a strange land, among uncivilized people savours of\nrenunciation more than human. The high plane of spirituality, already\nattained, would be easily perpetuated.\n\nCut off from everything that had stood ready to prey upon one's\nweaknesses, those weaknesses would no longer have to be guarded\nagainst.\n\nIn a life devoted to ministering spiritual things to people who have\nas yet no spiritual conceptions there would be reflex blessings\nfurnishing all the spiritual help one would need. In short, the\nmissionary is looked upon as belonging to a peculiar order of beings,\nalmost supernatural, dwelling in a sort of seventh heaven of immunity\nfrom difficulties against which the ordinary soul must contend.\n\nIn calling attention to certain hindrances, it is to guard against\nromantic notions. The depressing influence of life among a heathen\npeople hangs over one like a cloud.\n\nThe natives are so sodden in vice, so wedded to their idols, so\nprejudiced against all foreign religions, so dull of head and slow of\nheart to understand and believe. At times it may seem to be all sowing\nand no reaping,--enough to dishearten the most faithful worker.\n\nTo \"sit in the shade of a palm-tree, and break the bread of life\nto hands eagerly outstretched to receive it\"--is not an every-day\nexperience.\n\nSunday by Sunday the native Christians assemble in the chapel for\nworship. The new missionary joins them. Here he will not be distressed\nby the degradation of the heathen without. His heart will be glad as\nhe sees these people, rescued from idolatry, worshipping the true God.\nHe cannot understand what is said, but he can join in silent prayer.\nIt is intensely interesting, for a few Sundays. But after a time these\nservices, in which he is utterly unable to take other than a silent\npart, will be found inadequate to meet his spiritual need.\n\nIt will be two years or more, before the missionary can join in all\nparts of their worship. During this time he will often remember\nwith deep longing the privilege of his own church in the far away\nhome-land. In fact, worship with people of another race and tongue\nnever quite meets one's spiritual requirements. Constant outflow,\nwithout corresponding inflow will run any pool dry. Then he will find\nhimself so overwhelmed with work, perplexed by financial cares,\nhindered by innumerable interruptions that it will seem almost\nimpossible to find time to put forth special effort by reading,\nmeditation, and prayer, for the maintenance and upbuilding of his own\nspiritual life.\n\nOne's very zeal for the kingdom of Christ may dwarf one's fellowship\nwith Christ. No matter how sound in theory, loyal in spirit, or\nvigorous in action, there will come periods of reaction, though not\nof discouragement. \"Tired in, not of the work.\" The discouraged\nmissionary is yet to be found. \"_He_ shall not fail, nor be\ndiscouraged--till He has set judgment in the earth.\" Often enough to\nkeep him keyed up to his work he will be blessed with the privilege\nof witnessing that which never loses its fascinating interest,--the\nwonderful transformation of human souls, by the power of the Holy\nSpirit.\n\nOther matters however interesting, are but side-lights; other\nexperiences, however trying, are soon forgotten in the joy of seeing,\nand in a measure being instrumental in the advancement of Christ's\nkingdom.\n\nWith a heart warm with love for Christ; warm with love for souls;\nfull of zeal for soul winning; the missionary is safe. But all these\npassions he _must bring with him_, rather than depending upon their\nbeing developed in and by service in a foreign land.\n\nDr. Judson, after nineteen years in Burma, writing to a foreign\nmissionary association of young men said: \"Beware of the greater\nreaction which will take place after you have acquired the language,\nand become fatigued and worn out with preaching the gospel to a\ndisobedient and gainsaying people. You will sometimes long for a quiet\nretreat, where you can find a respite from the tug of toiling at\nnative work,--the incessant, intolerable friction of the missionary\ngrindstone. And Satan will sympathize with you in this matter, and he\nwill present some chapel of ease, in which to officiate in your native\ntongue, some government situation, some professorship or editorship,\nsome literary or scientific pursuit, some supernumerary translation,\nor, at some system of schools; anything, in a word, that will help\nyou, without much surrender of character, to slip out of real\nmissionary work.\n\n\"Such a temptation will form the crisis of your disease. If your\nspiritual constitution can sustain it, you recover; if not, you die.\"\n\nMissionary views have undergone some change since Judson's time,--for\ninstance,--\"some system of schools\" has come to be regarded as a\nnecessary and fruitful part of missionary work. Moreover, instead\nof furnishing sweet release from the \"friction of the missionary\ngrindstone,\" in the school its rubs are hardest. The great temptation\nnow is to abandon school work, to engage in \"direct evangelistic work\"\nexclusively.\n\nBut the principal remains the same. Talk about the hardships\nof pioneering; pioneering is a picnic as compared with the\nyear-in-and-year-out routine of school work. In boarding-schools there\nis added to the all-day work the all-night anxiety concerning the\nmoral welfare of the pupils. Sick or well, strong or weak and weary,\nthe work is there, and must be accomplished. The dormitories are full\nof boys and girls, and constant care is the price of discipline.\n\nNearly every day some are on the sick list, and must be visited, and\nremedies administered under the missionary's own eye. In serious cases\nthe missionary becomes the watcher. I have in mind an instance when\nthe cholera broke out in a neighbouring mission school. The lady in\ncharge of the school took several girls into her own house, nursed\nthem day and night, in addition to her regular work, and brought\nthem safely through the crisis. But at what a cost. A few days later\na company of sorrow-stricken missionaries were gathered around her\ngrave, with difficulty restraining their emotion to conduct the burial\nservice.\n\nA beloved sister had fallen, as truly a martyr as ever gave a life to\nthe Master's service.\n\nThe climate of Burma is peculiarly trying.\n\nArriving in November, as most all newcomers do, everything is seen\nat its best. The rainy season has passed, leaving a placid smile on\nthe face of nature. The nights are cool. Friends will see that the\nnewcomer keeps in the shade from eleven o'clock in the morning until\nfive in the afternoon,--for a tropical sun can be depended on to do\nhis duty at that time of day, the year round. As the season advances\nthe nights become cooler, and towards morning a chilling fog sets in.\n\nThe preceding afternoon having been hot, one retires in a\nperspiration, every pore open, finally dropping off to sleep--without\nany covering, save his pajamas. With the coming of the fog there is a\nsudden drop in temperature, and one is fortunate if he does not wake\nup in a chill, and have the doctor for his first morning caller.\n\nPersons with weak lungs find this the most trying season of the year.\nBut this is the \"cold season,\" and the time when missionary work\nout in the district must be vigorously pressed. Away through the\nKaren, Shan, Chin, and Kachin hills, missionaries push their way. In\nthe plains other missionaries are doing their best to reach as many\nvillages as possible before the \"hot season\" sets in. Work which ought\nto close early in March, if the missionary's health is considered,\nis often continued until April. But this is done at the expense of\nhealth, and shortens one's term of service. At least one month of\nthe hot season must be spent at some mountain resort to escape the\nheat, secure needed rest, or for neglected literary work, if strength\npermits. It is not in the power of flesh to work on twelve months in\nthe year, in the heated plains, without sacrificing strength that\nmight be more wisely conserved.\n\nAfter a serious illness, I spent a few weeks alone in a mountain camp,\nduring my last hot season in Burma. Several great vultures kept me\ncompany by roosting in a tree close by, every night for a week.\n\nMy rapid improvement did not furnish an encouraging prospect, and they\nleft. The fact that they had occupied the tree before I came to occupy\nthe camp, did not make their presence much less suggestive.\n\nBy the middle of May the \"Southwest monsoon\" sets in. Then for five\nmonths it is rain, rain, rain. But though enough rain falls to\ninundate a country less amply provided with natural drainage, the\nawful heat continues. Clouds shut out the sun much of the time, but\nthe steamy heat is exceedingly enervating. Clothing and bedding are\nclammy from the excessive dampness. Shoes taken off at night are\nmouldy in the morning. The unavoidable ruin of shelves of fresh new\nbooks from the home-land is enough to break one's heart, unless he has\ngrace to take joyfully the spoiling of his goods. But as a merciful\nprovision against allowing the mind to dwell on such misfortunes, the\n\"prickly heat\" (_lichen tropicus_) with which one's body is covered,\nwill demand frequent attention. The rainfall varies in different parts\nof the country.\n\nIn Maulmain and Sandoway the annual rainfall is about two hundred and\nfifty inches. In Rangoon the precipitation is about two thirds of that\namount. Mandalay is in the dry belt where the rainfall is very light,\nand irrigation is resorted to for cultivation. But still farther\nnorth, at Bhamo, the rainfall is heavy.\n\nThe every-day display of wild beasts, reptiles, and insect life is\nrather disappointing to the newcomer.\n\nIn the year 1902 only seventy-three people were reported as killed\nby wild beasts, and 1,123 by snakes and poisonous insects. But we\nfind that 4,194 cattle were killed by tigers; 1,386 were killed by\nleopards; six by bears, twenty-eight by wolves, and 4,986 by snakes.\nMore cattle were killed by snakes in Burma than in all the rest of\nIndia. Doubtless many such deaths in remote places, are not reported\nat all.\n\nUnder a certain Christian chapel when the ground was covered by a\nflood, an average of six centipedes were counted on each post.\n\nOther localities are equally favoured, but they are scattered about,\nin piles of lumber, under old boxes, and wherever they can secrete\nthemselves, now and then one appearing in a corner closet or crawling\non the floor. On one occasion when about to take my family out for a\nwalk two scorpions must first be dispatched.\n\nThey were found on the inside of our little boy's jacket, taken from\na nail on the wall. Cobras and vipers sometimes find their way into\nhouses,--but this happens more frequently in India than in Burma.\nThese reptiles, though not often seen, are known to be about, so that\nsome degree of caution is in order at all times. The general practice\nof elevating the house-floor several feet from the ground greatly\nlessens the number of these unwelcome visitors.\n\nNot even the newcomer complains of a scarcity of the far-famed white\nants. Should he fail to appreciate their numbers and powers, an\nexperience similar to that recorded in \"The Bishop's Conversion\" will\nmake him wish he had heeded the warnings of older residents.\n\nEach queen is said to deposit about three million eggs a year. As they\ndo their housekeeping and rear their antlets underground, a tropical\nsun making the hive a first-class incubator, the success of each\ncolony is well assured. During the day myriads of other kinds of ants\nmay be seen, but not a white ant shows his head.\n\nLeave an old box on the ground over night, and in the morning\nthousands of these destructive insects will be found underneath,\neating the bottom out of it. Some of the houses built by the early\nmissionaries, who had not learned the likes and dislikes of the\nwhite ant, were destroyed in a few years. But a house made wholly\nof ant-proof timber does not insure one against their ravages.\nUnder cover of the darkness they send out their spies. The house is\nsearched from foundation to garret. They make careful note of the\nlocation of deal-boxes, book-shelves and other tempting articles,\nsmack their lips, and return to give their report. The floor of nearly\nall residences is ten feet or more above the ground, the lower part\nbeing left unoccupied. The ants, directed by their engineers, select\na post, and rapidly build a covered way, about the size of half a\nsplit lead-pencil, up its side. Sand, made sticky by glue from their\nmouths, is the material used. Reaching the floor the path is continued\nalong a crack in the floor, finally coming out under or behind the\narticle selected for destruction. Unless something wanted leads to\ntheir discovery, their work will go on until chest and contents are\nutterly ruined. Returning from a three weeks' absence, I found several\nof my choicest books riddled by these pests. In place of valuable\nmarginal notes that could not be restored was a paste of sand. Such\nan experience is not, at first flush, conducive to spirituality.\nRather it makes one sigh for a more expressive vocabulary, adapted to\nhis profession. While superintending the work of demolishing an old\nmission house five heavy timbers fell all at once, on as many sides of\nme. These timbers appeared to be securely fastened, but white ants had\neaten away the wood so that nails and bolts had no hold. The building\nhad been condemned as unsafe over and over, but for want of other\nshelter had been occupied by a missionary family until the day before.\nIt was little less than a miracle that the heavy roof had not crushed\ndown over their heads.\n\nThe most dreaded diseases are cholera and fever.\n\nIn the first Burmese war seventy-two per cent. of the British\ntroops died, only five per cent. being killed in action. After\nthe annexation, railroad and steamship companies revolutionized\ntransportation, substantial barracks and bungalows have taken the\nplace of bamboo-and-thatch shanties, for the accommodations of\nEuropeans. Improved sanitary arrangements in the towns have greatly\ndecreased the mortality among natives. Compulsory vaccination is\nstamping out smallpox. Each large town has its hospital and civil\nsurgeon. In six or eight different places medical missionaries are\nstationed.\n\nMany improvements have been made since the time of Judson,--but the\nclimate has not changed. As organized mission-work develops, the\nstrain on the missionary increases. To the \"care of all the churches\"\nthe mission schools have been added. Work enough for four falls upon\none. Breakdowns are inevitable. Careful inquiry has established the\nfact that the average term of missionary service is considerably\nlonger than that of Europeans in civil, military or mercantile\npursuits, though the missionary lives by far the more strenuous life.\nIf it is desirable that the missionary should render a long life of\nservice, this extension of each term beyond the limit of his strength\nis very poor economy in the society which he represents. But in the\nmajority of cases the mistake is made by the missionary himself. Body\nand soul he is wedded to his work. There never comes a time when he\nis not making some special effort, that he shrinks from entrusting\nto another,--for the advancement of the kingdom. If another is not\navailable to take up the work he will almost die at his post rather\nthan leave his people \"as sheep having no shepherd.\" The remedy is\nin the hands of God's people in the home-land. Had he not learned\nto possess his soul in patience the missionary might feel disturbed\nby unfriendly criticisms directed against missionaries and their\nmethods by that worldly-wise individual known as the \"globe-trotter.\"\nEntertained at the missionary's home, and in much better style than\nthe missionary can afford or indulges except on such occasions, he\nsits in the best room, and by the light of the only table lamp in\nthe house dashes off an article on \"Missionary Luxury.\" He travels\nthree thousand miles, and visits fifty stations in three weeks, then\ngoes home to pose as an authority on missionary methods, life in the\ntropics, etc. It is simply incredible what a variety of misconceptions\none can pick up in three weeks in a strange land. Representatives from\nchurches and societies in the home-land are gladly welcomed, if they\npurpose to remain long enough to form correct views of the situation.\nIt takes the missionaries themselves at least two years to form such\nviews.\n\nNot long ago a noted Christian worker visited Burma. He was very\nearnest in his desire to see much in a little time, and yet get at the\nreal heart of things. To further his desires two missionaries arranged\na jungle trip, that the visitor might see the people in their native\nhaunts. The last stage of the journey must be made by ox-cart. As\nthey were loading up for the start he turned and said, \"Now brethren,\nyou know,--I want _impressions_.\" Then again, more emphatically as\nhe stepped in front of the wheel to put a bundle on the cart--\"You\nunderstand now,--I _want impressions_.\" The off-ox seemed to\nsympathize with him, for he gave him an impression then and there,--on\nthe right knee-cap. Then another on the left knee-cap. In great pain\nthe young enthusiast staggered to a log and sat down. Helped into the\ncart, he rode the rest of the journey. The lameness lasted him several\ndays. Doubtless the memory of these first impressions will last much\nlonger.\n\nThe visitor will learn more in three days of Burma fever than in an\nentire cool season. True, he will have sincere sympathy, and the best\nattention possible. But everybody knows that if true conceptions\nare to be gained, to be disseminated in the home-land, it is a good\ninvestment.\n\nVisitors, like new missionaries, will not be guided by the advice of\nthe more experienced. That disasters are not more frequent is largely\ndue to the fact that Burma is visited when the climate is at its best.\n\nAn exception to the rule was the visit of a lady who had for many\nyears been actively interested in foreign missions. Warnings as to\nthe deadly effects of a tropical sun, and the danger of contracting\nfever from undue exposure had no influence. Repeated cautions that\nthe head must be protected with the customary \"sola tope\" in place\nof the black straw hat were disregarded. Quinine, the universal and\nonly effective remedy in first symptoms of malaria, was rejected.\nShe was \"not subject\" to these things. In short, the missionaries\nwere unnecessarily cautious in matters of health. Malaria changed to\nsettled fever, and went beyond the power of the best medical skill and\nnursing to control.\n\nThis noble worker, who had served long and well here below, and might\nperhaps have served yet longer, went to a happier service above.\n\nNotwithstanding the many disasters, experience still remains the only\nteacher whose voice commands attention.\n\nTo meet every obstacle and trying experience the consecrated worker\ngirds up his loins, strong in the consciousness of the fact that he\nis an \"Ambassador for Christ\" the highest office in the gift of the\nKing of Kings. His very obstacles may become stepping-stones to higher\nattainments.\n\n\n\n\nXIII\n\nWHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT\n\n\nAdequately to answer the question, at any given time, What hath God\nwrought?--is beyond the power of short-sighted human comprehension.\n\nAs one studies the history of Christian missions in this land,\ncomparing the present with the past, the question becomes an\nexclamation; yea, what hath God wrought! In 1819, after six years of\nseemingly fruitless labour, Judson baptized the first Burman convert\nfrom Buddhism.\n\nIn 1828 Boardman baptized the first Karen convert from spirit-worship.\nNow about forty-five thousand baptized Christians, in Baptist missions\nalone, chiefly Karen, but with the Burman and several other races\nstrongly represented assemble in Christian chapels, without fear,\nor hindrance. Including adherents, this number may be multiplied\nthreefold. Including the mission work of the Roman Catholics, Church\nof England, and other societies and their adherents; European\nofficials, traders, and troops; Eurasions, and immigrants,--the\ncensus of 1901 gives a total of 147,526 returned as Christians.\nCalculated on the same basis as the Roman Catholics and Church of\nEngland three-fourths of this grand total should be assigned to the\nBaptists. And as a result of actual mission work among indigenous\nraces, a much larger proportion must be credited to these American\nBaptist missions. In casting up results as represented by present\nnumbers, we should not lose sight of the thousands who have died in\nthe faith during the ninety years of Christian missions in Burma.\nAnd I fain would believe that a good number who never \"witnessed the\ngood confession\" have died believing \"unto the saving of the soul.\" I\nwill give one such instance among the many, as related to me by one\nof my preachers, himself a Buddhist, at the time. \"They told me that\nan old man in the village where I was staying, was dying. I went to\nsee him. Sure enough, he was near the end. His people were giving him\nvery little attention, being angry because he declared that he would\ndie as a Christian, not as a Buddhist. A Christian preacher had been\nthrough the village a long time before, and left a tract with this\nold man. He read it, pondered on it, and believed it. As I sat beside\nthe mat on which he was lying he said to me: 'I am not a Buddhist,--I\nhave cast that all away. I believe in the Eternal God this tract tells\nme about. I am going to Him. When I am dead, don't let them bury me\naccording to the Buddhist custom. Just roll me in my mat, and cover\nme in the ground.' Then he looked upward, his face brightened, he\nraised his feeble hands and exclaimed, 'I can see Celestial beings up\nthere,--they are calling me.' He did not say angels,--he never had\nheard anything about angels. And I did not know what he was talking\nabout. I was not a Christian then. His relations said his mind had\ngone bad, but he paid no attention to what they said,--only kept on\ntalking about his vision of celestial beings beckoning him from the\nsky. In that way he died. They buried him according to the Buddhist\ncustom, but I think he was a true disciple.\"\n\nThe wife of one of our jungle Christians rejected all attempts to win\nher to Christ. It seemed to be a case of ignorance and indifference\nrather than the bitter prejudice shown by the majority of Burmese\nwomen.\n\nDuring the last two years of her life she was an invalid. When the\nend came her husband was the only Christian in the village. Suddenly\nturning her eyes towards the mountains, as if hearing something--she\nsaid to her husband, \"There is a great company of disciples there\non the mountainside. Sayah Gyi and Mama (the missionaries) are with\nthem,--and they are calling me.\" With a smile on her face she passed\naway.\n\nIn life she had not \"confessed,\" but in death, as her spirit hung\nbetween two worlds her vision was not of the spirits of her lifelong\nsuperstitions,--but of the missionaries and disciples saved by the\nblood of Christ. You have the story,--interpret it as you like.\n\nIn all the old mission stations the native evangelists report a good\nnumber who secretly declare their conviction that Christianity is\nright, the ancestral religion wholly wrong. Some go so far as to\nassert that they no longer worship idols, but do, secretly, worship\nChrist.\n\nBut no amount of urging or encouraging will induce them to break\nutterly with Buddhism, and openly confess Christ. They will not even\nrisk the consequences of attending services in the mission chapel.\n\nThat some are in a measure, sincere, there is no doubt. Imagine, if\nyou can, what would be the social standing of a hitherto orthodox\nChristian in America, should he renounce Christianity and go over\nto gross idolatry. From ostracism he would suffer no more, from\npersecution far less than the poor native who renounces Buddhism, for\nChristianity. Whether any of them are numbered among the saved, is not\nfor me to say.\n\n[Illustration: BAPTIST CHURCH, RANGOON]\n\nThere is another thought which throws a bright ray of light on\nthe great dark wall of paganism. It is not one of the results of\nChristian missions, but it is a result of the work of the Christ\nof missions. I refer to thousands and millions of infants and little\nchildren who die in pagan lands. If little children in Christian lands\nare immortal, why are not little children in pagan lands also immortal?\n\nIf little children are included in the saving work of Christ, are\nthey not so included the world over? It is hardly conceivable that\nChrist would have said,--with children of non-Christians around Him:\n\"Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for\nof such is the kingdom of heaven,\" had He not considered them choicest\nmaterial for His kingdom. Otherwise the words \"Except a man become as\na little child\"--would have been incongruous.\n\nNow when we consider that probably one-third of the children born\nin heathen lands die before they come to the period of moral\nresponsibility, a new factor enters into our conception of heaven. Now\nfor a case in point. A little child died in my mission. The father was\na Christian, the mother a heathen. One insisted that the child should\nbe buried according to Christian custom, the other insisted that the\nburial should be according to Buddhist custom. The father, backed by\nthe Burman pastor, prevailed. On the way to the cemetery I had to stop\nthe procession to drive a snake out of the road. Just as the service\nat the grave began, another snake passed between the native preacher\nand myself as we stood side by side. It seemed as if Satan himself was\nsiding with the heathen mother and would snatch away the soul of this\ninnocent child. While the little grave was being filled, I tried to\ncheer the father, by telling him that Jesus had, in love, taken the\nchild to Himself. He knew that the mother would do her worst to bring\nup her child in heathenism, so He had graciously transplanted it to\nHis paradise above. Accepting this view of the case, the father was\ncomforted.\n\nThere are many such encouraging factors which form no part of mission\nreports.\n\nBefore proceeding to the more palpable triumphs of Christian missions,\nI would point out that much has recently been said and written of a\n\"Revival of Buddhism.\" I do not share in the impression that Buddhism\nis becoming stronger than in former years. The presence of a European\nclad in yellow robes, parading through the chief towns of Burma,\nmaking great pretensions, and reviling the Christian missionaries,\ncreated a sensation for a time. But his claim to be the head of\nBuddhism was not quite to the taste of the many native priests who,\nlocally, or for the province, aspired to that position. Hardly more\nto their taste was his departure, taking with him a generous sum of\nmoney collected during his tours. Every now and then one hears of new\nsocieties for propagating Buddhism. But much of this is mere pomp and\nshow. A few of the more popular pagodas are periodically treated to a\ncoat of gold-leaf. The bulk of this great expense is borne by men who\nhave amassed fortunes under British rule, and is more to add to their\nrenown than from real religious zeal. But where one pagoda is now\nregilded, scores were built and gilded, under Burman rule. Wealth and\neducation have raised many Burmans to prominent positions. Each one of\nthese gaily attired lords would like to have it said, \"He loveth our\nnation, and has gilded our pagoda.\" In this they are encouraged by the\nfriendly attitude of the provincial government towards the religion\nof the land. In June, 1903, the trustees of the Shwe Dagon pagoda\nissued to prominent Europeans and others the following invitation:\n\"The trustees of the Shwe Dagon pagoda will have the pleasure of\n----, on Sunday, the 7th June, 1903, on the platform of the pagoda,\nto witness the most sacred ceremony of unveiling the covering of the\nupper portion of the pagoda as the plating of the same with beaten\ngold sheets has now been completed.\n\n\"Sir H. Thirkell White, chief judge of the chief court of Lower Burma\nhas kindly consented to perform the duty of unveiling.\n\n            \"U Shwe Waing,\n                \"Managing Trustee.\n               \"Shwe Dagon Pagoda.\"\n\nThe Rangoon _Gazette_ thus described the event: \"He arrived at nine\no'clock, and was received by the trustees of the pagoda, who conducted\nhim to a platform where a small pagoda about two feet high and studded\nwith rubies, diamonds and sapphires, was resting on a massive silver\nBurmese carved stand. This pagoda was hollow and on being opened was\ndisclosed another pure gold miniature pagoda resting on a beautifully\ncased gold vase. This miniature pagoda also came to pieces and\ncontained a nugget of pure gold, part of the gold plates used in\nregilding Shwe Dagon. Two of the trustees, Maung Po Aung and Maung Po\nTha, then each read an address and the signal was given to the man on\nthe top of the pagoda, and Sir H. Thirkell White pulled a handle which\nwas connected by wire with the cloth frame on the Hti, and the frame\nthus fell apart and disclosed to view the massive pinnacle of gold.\nThe people broke out in cheers, and the band of the king's regiment\nplayed the national anthem, and this closed the proceedings. It has\ntaken over 140 viss of gold-leaf for the regilding, the cost being\nbetween seven and eight lacs of rupees,\" over $250,000. This event, in\nwhich the most conspicuous figure was a prominent English official,\nthough in unofficial capacity; and closing with the strains of \"God\nSave the King,\" is heralded far and wide as another indication of a\nrevival of Buddhism.\n\nWere Buddhism wiped out of existence the pagoda would still be\npreserved, as at once the most ancient and most conspicuous object in\nthe city,--the first seen as one approaches the shores of Burma.\n\nBuddhism never has lost its strong-hold on the races of Burma that\nmany centuries ago adopted it. These spasmodic outbreaks of seeming\nzeal, interpreted by many as indications of increasing life, I\ninterpret as signs of increasing weakness. As in India, these\npeople are becoming alarmed by the headway that Christianity is\nslowly, steadily gaining in their land. It is a struggle against the\nirresistible tide of Christian missions. Something more than flaming\npagoda tops, and societies with high sounding titles will be required\nto stay the tide, and Buddhism has nothing else to offer. One hundred\nand fifty Protestant missionaries, with hundreds of native evangelists\nand teachers constitute a force, which under God, is undermining false\nsystems and establishing the kingdom of Christ.\n\nThe unveiling of the gilded pagoda top was a great event, such as\nhappens once in a decade. The place was crowded with Burmans, and\nmany sightseers of other races. But on that Sunday, and every Sunday,\nnearly if not quite an equal number assembled in the many Christian\nchurches in that city.\n\nJudson, forbidden by the king to preach the \"Jesus Christ religion,\"\nhad faith that the future of missions in Burma was as bright as the\npromises of God. If in the year 1903 he is permitted to look down\nupon the land of his toil and suffering, he can see American missions\nfirmly established in thirty different stations, and more than one\nhundred missionaries in actual service, all under the protection of\nthe flag of a Christian nation. Buddhism is reviving, as the serpent\nrevives to strike the rod from which it is receiving its death-blow.\n\nAmong the far-reaching results of mission work stands Judson's\ntranslation of the Bible into the Burmese language. From the time\nwhen he triumphantly held aloft the last leaf of this translation,\nuntil the present time, Judson's Bible has been used by all Protestant\nsocieties doing mission work among the Burmans. It has been revised by\nlater missionaries; but so scholarly, and so loyal to the Greek text\nwas it, that comparatively few changes have been found necessary. Some\nhave criticised it as containing interpretation, at certain points, in\nplace of literal translation. But in so far as this is true it seems\nunavoidable, it being impossible to reproduce the meaning word for\nword. Failure to reproduce the meaning would not be, in the highest\nsense, a translation. But the severest criticism passed upon it is\nbecause literal translation was adopted where the critics would have a\ntransliteration.\n\nOf scarcely less importance than Judson's Burmese Bible are the\ntranslations, by later missionaries, of the Bible into Shan, Sgaw\nKaren, and Pwo Karen.\n\nThe American Baptist Mission Press, at Rangoon, is turning out vast\nquantities of Christian literature. Bibles, tracts, hymn books, and\na great variety of other useful material for evangelistic work find\ntheir way to the remotest corners of the land. Karens and Talaings\nin Southern Burma, even into Siam; Shans and Kachins on the Chinese\nborder, to the east and north; Chins in the northwest; Burmans and\nKarens throughout the land may have this Christian literature in their\nown tongue.\n\nIt can almost be said that the Mission Press is _evangelizing Burma by\nmachinery_.\n\nAt each of the thirty stations of the American Baptist Mission a\nschool has been established. Where work for different races is carried\non at the same station there is a school for each race. There are\nscores of out-station schools, but the station school is the centre\nof influence. Here it is that the young lady missionary finds her\ngrandest opportunity for usefulness. It is hard work,--this steady\nday-in-and-day-out routine, nothing harder in the whole round of\nmissionary endeavour.\n\nBut there is also fascination in it. With a large body of Christian\npupils, as in the Karen schools, there is stimulus in it. Here are\nscores of young men who are soon to go out as preachers and teachers,\nin their native villages, or as missionaries to unevangelized tribes.\nYoung women, too, going out as teachers, Bible-women, or perhaps as\nwives of some of these Christian young men. The missionaries report\nso many churches, so many Sunday-schools, so many evangelists sent\nout,--but it is largely due to the faithful work of our young ladies\nfrom the home-land that these evangelists were first won to Christ,\nwhile pupils in the station schools. To take these boys and girls when\nthey came as children from distant villages, untidy offspring of the\n\"great unwashed,\" and under God, mould them for Christian service,\nis as grand a work as ever fell to a consecrated missionary's lot.\nThus the Christian school is letting in the light, arousing dormant\nfaculties, furnishing scores of mission helpers, and paving the way\nfor more glorious triumphs of the gospel in years to come. At the\nclose of 1902 the grand total of 19,430 pupils were under instruction\nin schools of the American Baptist Mission in Burma. Of this number\n135 were in the theological seminary at Insein. All are under\nChristian influence, and engaging in daily Bible study. But what of\nthe character of native converts?\n\nHave the backward tribes sufficient intelligence and stamina to make\ntrustworthy Christians? this question is often asked. A missionary\nthus describes the first Karen she ever saw,--\"Suspended from a yoke\nfrom the forehead, hanging down the back of this Karen was a large\npig suspended in bamboo strips to keep him quiet, and this pig had\nbeen brought by the man from the mountains. The man himself was very\nuntidy, his single garment was after the shape of a pillow case; his\nhair, if ever it had been combed, had not been for many a day, and I\nsaid to Dr. C---- 'It hardly seems possible there is more soul in the\nburden-bearer than in the burden.' He looked at me in astonishment,\nand said, 'Why, that is the dearest old deacon in the mountains.'\nAnd I said, 'If that is the dearest old deacon in the mountains,\nthen there is hope for everybody.'\" In a letter to the Rangoon\n_Times_ an English traveller wrote as follows: \"Close to police\nbarracks at Myitta (near Siam) is a native Baptist church. There are\nno missionaries in the neighbourhood, but Christianity has widely\nspread among the Karens from the American Baptist missions in the\nKaren district proper. The Karen Christians observe the Sabbath with\nScotch precision; no doubt its observance falls in with their happy\nindolent disposition which would embrace eagerly a creed that offered\nthem seven days of rest in the week. It is a little disconcerting\nfor a keen sportsman, who has lost all count of the calendar in this\nremote corner of the world, to be told, when ready equipped for a\nday's shooting, that it is impossible to obtain beaters, because it\nis Sunday.\" At a point not so remote from civilization an official\nwhipped a Christian Karen for refusing to work on Sunday.\n\nThe missionary's request for an explanation being ignored, the matter\nwas referred to the lieutenant-governor. The official was reprimanded,\nand an order issued that no Christian should be compelled to work\non Sunday. In his book \"The Loyal Karens,\" Mr. Smeaton, late chief\ncommissioner of Burma, says, \"It is not often given to witness such a\nremarkable development of national character as has taken place among\nthe Karens under the influence of Christianity and good government.\n\n\"Forty, aye, thirty years ago, they were a despised, grovelling, timid\npeople, held in contempt by the Burmese. At the sound of the gospel\nmessage they sprang to their feet, as a sleeping army springs to the\nbugle-call. The dream of hundreds of years was fulfilled; the God who\nhad cast them off for their unfaithfulness had come back to them, they\nfelt themselves a nation once more. Their progress since has been by\nleaps and bounds, all from an impetus within themselves, and with\nno direct help from their rulers; and they bid fair soon to outstrip\ntheir Burmese conquerors in all the arts of peace.\" By their fruits\nye shall know them. Where only a few years ago were tribal wars,\nchild-stealing, house-burning and savagery, now are quiet, orderly\nvillages, each with its preacher and teacher, chapel and school.\nRubbish and filth that they never saw while in paganism, have been\ncleared away. Faces are brighter, bodies better clothed, rice-bins\nbetter filled. Many of the boys and girls are away in the town school\nfor better training than the village school can provide. Here and\nthere, on the elevated bamboo verandas may be seen young wives who\nhave had this better training, evidenced by their absence of fear that\na clean skirt will bring upon them the eyes of the entire village.\nThese are a few of the many changes forecast in the promise--\"I will\nsay unto them that were not My people, Thou art My people; and they\nshall say, Thou art my God.\"\n\nAbout eight hundred Protestant churches, with as many pastors and\nevangelists, are among the more tangible results.\n\nA Christian college for all races, theological seminaries for Karens\nand Burmans, the latter open to Burmese speaking candidates from other\nraces; and a Bible training school for the young women are preparing\npastors, evangelists, teachers and Bible women, to meet the ever\nincreasing demand. Already native missionaries have gone out to work\namong the Shans, Chins and Kachins. And still the finger of God is\npointing onward,--to western China, and the region around Tibet,\nsources from which the races of Burma came, and where kindred races\nstill exist.\n\nWithout dealing in uninteresting statistics, I have tried to indicate\nsome of the conditions amid which missionary work in Burma has been,\nand still is being conducted, and some of the results of the work.\n\nIn spite of separations, privations, distractions, effects of climate,\nand other trying experiences, missionary life has its compensations.\nChief among them is the satisfaction of seeing the image of God\nreappearing in human faces, hearts, and lives, and the privilege\nof helping to win a nation to Christ. This it is that keeps the\nmissionary at his post, or hurries him back to his field from a\nhalf-rest in the home-land; while first, last, and all the time there\nis ringing in his ears the Master's parting message--\"Go, preach the\ngospel to the whole creation,\"--every word of which, as Dr. Ellis once\nsaid, \"is a heart-beat of the Holy Ghost.\" In the Great Commission,\nand the great need he finds ample justification and obligation for\nvigorous and unceasing missionary effort.\n\nAfter the battle of Lookout Mountain a dying soldier, roused by a\nsound of shouting, said to a comrade who was supporting him--\"What\nwas that?\" \"Why--that's our boys! they have carried the heights, and\nplanted the flag upon them!\" With a smile the dying soldier said, \"I\nhelped put it there.\"\n\nAll along the mission-front the great struggle with paganism is still\ngoing on. But by and by the battles will have been fought, the victory\nwon, and you and I will be standing with that great company which John\nsaw at Patmos,--for it is yet future. Burmans and Karens, and people\nof India and China, and Africa will be there, just as it reads:\n\n\"Out of every nation, and of all tribes and peoples and tongues.\" And\nas we stand there in the presence of our Saviour,--the Lord of the\nHarvest,--it will be a happy day for you and me,--if we can say like\nthe dying soldier--\"I helped put them there.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nTranscriber's Notes\n\nMinor punctuation errors have been silently corrected.\nIllustrations have been relocated to paragraph breaks.\n\nPage 79: \"seige\" may be a typo for \"siege.\"\n  (Orig: immense army, laid seige to Syriam,)\n\nPage 80: Changed \"Guatama\" to \"Gautama.\"\n  (Orig: pagoda was built, and a costly image of Guatama cast)\n\nPage 87: Changed \"issed\" to \"issued.\"\n  (Orig: Oriental monarch would have issed such decrees)\n\nPage 109: Changed \"guaged\" to \"gauged.\"\n  (Orig: Hospitality is guaged by the number of cups)\n\nPage 124: \"thalt\" may be a typo for \"shalt.\"\n  (Orig: commandment, \"Thou thalt speak no false word,\" gives this)\n\nPage 131: Changed \"Guatama\" to \"Gautama.\"\n  (Orig: relics of four Buddhas, including eight hairs of Guatama.)\n\nPage 149: Changed \"it\" to \"its.\"\n  (Orig: Each community has it head-man, who makes the bargain)\n\nPage 204: Changed \"beople\" to \"people.\"\n  (Orig: stepping-stones heavenward for these benighted beople.)\n\nPage 232: Ya-bok-kon has macrons over the \"a\" and second \"o\" in the\noriginal book.","title":"Among the Burmans: A Record of Fifteen Years of Work and its Fruitage","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":62537}