08 IN LABOURS ABUNDANT
Chapter 8 IN LABOURS ABUNDANT
DR. PHILLIPS found his work amongst the Santal tribes steadily increasing, and soon after the date of the letters given in the preceding chapter we find him reporting : —
" I have been most happy in my work today preaching to the multitude, who came to witness the consecration of a tank, where we have been eight hours on the grounds, Madhu and I taking turns in talking to the people. Thousands were present, some from fifty miles away. Over 250 Brahmins were on the ground, and were feasted up to style. Many of the scenes which took place on the premises were disgusting in the extreme. Hundreds of Santals were hired to dance, and their intoxicating liquor, ’ Hundia,’ was served out to them without stint. Plenty of people were drunk before nightfall, and there were rows without number. The old Brahmin who has made the tank spent 2000 rupees on the earthwork, so it is said, and he claims to have laid out another 2000 on the consecration. Poor fool! How soon he must see his mistake, and how completely these bigoted, inflated priests rule the common people! Rover has just come trotting up, and seemed delighted when I proposed to send his ’ bow-wow ’ to you and Julia. He is a very affectionate little dog. Flora should certainly be taught to stay on the verandah at night and watch. I fully sustain you, Mrs. Phillips, in the family discipline! "
" I am fast learning to speak and preach in Santal, and I feel that God is very near me while preaching.
" I was greatly pleased with my effort last Sabbath, and though I find it difficult to pray in this strange language, I am yet wonderfully aided. It really refreshes my soul to talk to these poor villagers of the love of Jesus. What a story of love we have to tell! Heaven pity us that we so often deliver it with cold hearts and cold lips! Oh for more faith and fire from above to move and melt our hearts! We might then hope to move the people. We are observing the week of prayer, and are having a good meeting every evening."
" It is our increasing delight to travel among these jungle people, and one only wishes for more time and strength to devote to them. During these three weeks we have visited fifty-six villages, and examined ten schools. Everywhere the Santals receive us as their friends, and give us a hearty welcome. No sooner do our carts arrive than many willing hands are ready. Some bring straw for the tent and bullocks, others run for fire and fuel. Away go a couple of boys in great haste in quest of milk for the children, and several others are racing after a hen for our curry. Wherever there is a school of ours, there the teacher and pupils are invariably first on the ground to greet us. There is a general ’ Namasker ! ’ from all sides. This answers to our ’ Good morning,’ and to the Mohammedan ’ Salaam.’ This over, all hands eagerly hasten to our help. Up goes the little umbrella tent, and down come the dusty boxes from the carts. One boy takes a chulla (fireplace), and another runs for a kalsi (earthen jar) of water for cooking purposes. In less than an hour we are nicely settled down in our camp home, and the curry and rice are ready.
" After dinner the school is examined, and the people are addressed. As for the audience, there is seldom any lack. Eight at the tent door sometimes scores assemble to hear the Gospel. They do not all come, however, to hear us preach. Some, perhaps the majority, come out of mere curiosity ; others come for medicine, in many cases bringing their sick with them. Every missionary is supposed to be a doctor, and the call for medicine is constant. It is such a comfort to help these poor creatures. It is amusing to mark the implicit confidence they repose in us, and their notions of the range of our skill and knowledge are often remarkably ludicrous.
" I was making my way over a belt of steep, ragged hills one day, in the Santal Pergunnahs, my guide being a young man of twenty, a thorough jungle man, and an out-and-out Santal. We were both far in advance of our party, for the banghy men (who carry boxes swung across their shoulders) found it hard work climbing the rocks. My companion, after only half an hour’s acquaintance, began opening his heart to me. After the usual preliminaries, consisting of extravagant expressions of confidence, etc., the simple-hearted youth began thus : — ’ Do help me, Sahib, for I have a great affliction. Our own doctors cannot cure it, and I have called in vain on the gods of our race. Yes, I have offered up fowls and kids, yet no good comes from it all. You white men must know all about it. Do pity and help me ! ’ I never once suspected what the trouble was, nor will you be likely to. If you are good at guessing, stop right here before reading farther.
" A short question brought out the whole story. The youth had married a wife, but the girl-wife was constantly running away to her father’s house. Nothing would keep her at home. Several times had he climbed over the long range of hills to her old home and brought her back, but she always ran away again at the very first chance. With remarkable sincerity my guide told me his sad story, and then fixing his large black eyes fully and firmly on mine, he asked so beseechingly, ’ What is the right medicine for the girl ? give me the right charm. Do cure her, and I will worship you and bless you ! ’
" There was yet a weary mile of hard climbing before we were out of the hills, and I had time enough to tell my confiding companion of the only ’ medicine ’ there was, and the true ’ charm ’ for bringing and binding fast together their young and wayward hearts. We talked on until we stood on the summit of the last hill. My guide pointed out to me the descending path to the little village, and with a low bow and a happy smile, he ran homeward on the opposite side."
" We rejoice most when the Santals come to our camp begging for schools. The other day there came such a fine-looking man, the ’ mandal ’ or headman of the village, to ask us for a school. This rapidly increasing desire for learning among these sons of the forest gives us great cheer. Oh that we had the wherewithal to establish the schools that are now so greatly wanted throughout the Santal country ! Just now an effort is on foot to bring the girls into the schools, and I hope before many months we may have the pleasure of reporting some girls in our jungle schools."
" Slowly, but nevertheless surely, is the Santal mind becoming disengaged from the cruel superstitions of centuries, and directed towards a purer faith. Our two-score village schools in the jungle are so many lighthouses dispelling the darkness and revealing the dangers of the past, and opening out the path of peace for the future. Let the Churches make special prayer for the teachers of these schools, and the hundreds of youths now under instruction. These, rightly trained, must become the leaders of their people, and incalculable blessings to their posterity." A little later Dr. Phillips visited the Santal mission station at Ebenezer, and on his return he encamped near a railway station at Ranigunge. From this camping place he wrote : —
" We have reached here this evening at sunset. Just as we were crossing a railway bridge, a freight and passenger train passed under. What singularly delightful sensations I experienced upon looking at the cars again after five years! I stood and gazed in silence, and in the brief moments I lived over again many a pleasant journey in America. You should have seen my Santals stare at the wonderful engine and the long line of cars. They will have stories enough to tell upon getting home, I warrant. We happen to be on the verge of what we may call incognita, because we shall not be heard from again for probably ten days at least. I shall work my way slowly, reaching the northern border of our own district about a month hence, somewhere near Silda. I should like to settle amongst the numerous Santal villages, but of this who can tell ? We walked twenty-five miles one day barefoot through the rice fields, and had great success in selling books in Bengali, Oriya, Hindu, and Santal. I carried the pack myself from village to village.
" This is my last day of this very interesting trip. We have visited 122 villages, and have preached to multitudes the unsearchable riches of Christ. On the Judgment Day we must meet every congregation we have addressed. Speakers and hearers alike must stand at God’s impartial bar. The serious question comes to me in view of these important facts. Am I ready to face them before the great Judge ? I trust that I have tried to be true and faithful to the thousands whom I have addressed in this trip of six weeks."
Twenty miles west of Midnapore, and 90 miles west of Calcutta, lies Bhimpore, a beautiful Santal village. Dr. Bacheler gave a copy of the Gospel of St. Mark to a Santal teacher named Raju, one of three brothers. For a time the little book lay tucked away in the thatch of his mud house. Occasionally it was taken down and read. At last his eyes were opened and his heart was touched, and he began teaching it to his pupils, and his brothers also became acquainted with the new-found treasure. The result was that the three brothers and six teachers, as well as one of Raju’s pupils, all came out for Christ. The oldest of the brothers, Panchu, headman of Bhimpore village, at once put an end to the dancing and drinking, and built a neat little chapel, although his mother and wife constantly opposed and persecuted him. This was the beginning of the work at Bhimpore, to which reference is so constantly made by Dr. Phillips.
" This month I have again visited our Santal branch at Bhimpore, and spent the Sabbath with our brothers there. They seem to be holding on well. The mother continues as vehement as ever in her persecutions. Poor deluded thing ! She fancies that Christianity has ruined her family. The wife of Panchu is doing all in her power to make it hard for her husband to serve God in his own house. She keeps all the children from attending the meetings, and does all that she can to embitter their minds against Christianity. But the good soul bears it all with remarkable patience, and never ceases to pray for their conversion." The girls’ orphanage, to which allusion has already been made, occupied much of Dr. Phillips’ best thought and energy. The work was beset with peculiar difficulties, many of which we cannot here describe in detail. Their general character, however, may be gathered from the following letter written by Dr. Phillips about this time : —
" The more I think of it, the more is my mind impressed with the conviction that ’ police detective ’ and ’ police protective ’ of our native girls must have their stand in their hearts, rather than around their homes. I believe in safe enclosure, high walls, strong hedges of thorns, and deep pits full of water all around our girls’ homes ; and I believe in bars and bolts, locks and keys, and everything of this sort; but I firmly believe in having all these within rather than without the individuals whom we would protect. I pray God to give us, who are their guardians, great grace to work so faithfully and intelligently for their souls that each of them will be strong to face temptation. The devil with all his wicked wiles these girls will have to meet, every one of them, and I am for having them proof against these by God’s saving power in their souls, and then I care not how soon the temptations come, or how subtle they are. I believe that one of the greatest objections to the boarding-school system in India lies in the fact that the pupils are too much shielded and screened from the world of sin and sorrow, into which at marriage they rush unprepared, and too often bring trouble and shame upon themselves. Let our dear girls know now that the arch - enemy of souls will leave no stone unturned to bring about their ruin, and that Christ alone can keep them safe in the hour of temptation. Let us place this more frequently and more faithfully before our children. Now is the time to prepare them for the future. Show them from God’s Word what their armour is, and how to use it. God is almighty, and He is a hearer of prayer. This is my hope and comfort."
While thus committing to paper his earnest desire for the spiritual welfare of these orphan girls, Dr. Phillips little knew that one of them, named Surgi, was even then influencing for Christ a most remarkable woman who has since done noble work as a Christian evangelist in many of the large cities of India. A month later he joyfully reported the fact.
"Chandra Lela, a woman of the province of Nepaul, a high caste Brahmini by birth, and for many years a Bastami, having devoted herself to most rigid religious ceremonies, and traveled over a large part of India from shrine to shrine in quest of salvation, has at last found the true way, and believed on our Lord Jesus Christ.
" She was found by one of our schoolgirls when she was teaching in a Sepoy bazaar. Chandra was very anxious to learn the way of life. They told her of Jesus, and the next day they went to her lodging and expounded to her the way of God more perfectly. She listened eagerly to the gracious tidings of salvation through Christ, and from that day has been a diligent student of the Bible. She began attending the chapel, and came to our bungalow for religious instruction. In this way she has made slow but sure progress, until on the first Sunday of this month it was my privilege to baptize and to receive her into the Christian Church. The Hindus, her old associates, did all they could to frighten her. Some said, ’ The Sahib will feed you on beef, and marry you to a Santal.’ Others said, ’ The Christians only want to break your caste, and then they will let you go on and shift for yourself.’ She came to our native preacher, and asked about all these matters, wishing to know the true facts of the case. They soon answered her satisfactorily."
" Last evening we had a capital temperance meeting. There is nothing like steady systematic effort to put down all opposition. Our meeting on the first Monday of each month is as regular a thing as the Communion, and is doing good. Five joined us last evening. I am kept constantly busy with meetings for converts, lectures, inquirers’ meetings, preachers’ classes, temperance meetings, and so on. Among other things I assisted at a Roman Catholic funeral a short time ago. My Sunday School prospers. Did I tell you that the first thing printed in our mission press was the tract ’ Come to Jesus ’ in Santali ? "
’’Oct. 15th. — This is a lovely Friday morning. A cool north breeze is coming in so softly and sweetly at the doors. How we have longed for it through six months of heat and rain ! You can hardly imagine how delighted we always are at the first approach of the cold season in India. We sniff the cool breeze with peculiar pleasure, and gather strength every moment. You have no idea how one of these hot seasons, followed up by the rains, drains the vigour of one’s constitution. The steady heat stealthily sucks the very life out of one’s blood and bones, until he looks like a Panama fever patient, or still worse sometimes, like an Andersonville prisoner. Thank God for the north wind which brings the cold ! Every breath is laden with praise."
Dr. Phillips still continued his periodical contributions to the American newspapers, and in the following letter he gives the reader a glimpse of Santipore in 1871 : —
" Would you not like to be here with us at this our jungle station, where for a week past revival meetings have been in progress ? This village affords a striking illustration of the power of the Gospel in a heathen land. Here tigers and wild elephants formerly roamed at their leisure. Where the little chapel now stands, and the bungalow and schoolhouse, and where our brethren live, were, not many years ago, the lairs and hiding-places of wild beasts. Over these beautiful fields, now covered with waving grain, the high jungle used to stand thick and dark. How changed it all is now ! Listen to the merry voices of happy school boys and girls ! Hear them sing the praises of Jesus who has done marvellous things ! Alike in the early morning, at the noontide hour, in the calm of the evening, and in the dead of night, there may be heard rising from some of these dwellings the voice of earnest prayer. Thank God for the wonderful change ! " In the autumn of 1872 the effects of prolonged overwork showed themselves in a complete breakdown. For many weeks the missionary’s life was trembling in the balance, and day and night the orphan girls stood beside his pillow cooling his head with ice. A sidelight is thrown upon the difficulties and hardships of an Indian missionary’s position, when we remember that this ice had to be brought from Calcutta, a distance of seventy-five miles, by relays of coolie. By the beginning of October the brain fever had subsided, and he was removed to the hills.
"Daejeeling, Oct. 19th, 1872 -- A long, fearful attack of brain fever has prostrated me for weeks. I had hardly strength to reach this mountain station two weeks ago, but am now gaining fast. This week I have seen the highest mountain on the globe, Mount Everest, 29,000 feet above the sea level. How I wish you could have been with us to look at that grand old height capped with snow! We started at nine in the morning and went seven miles to the summit of Mount Senchal, the highest point in these parts. Twenty minutes before sunrise, while the moon was still shining, we reached the top and began observations. A kind friend had lent us a good telescope which helped much. Several minutes before the sun appeared above the horizon, its beams tipped the head of Kinchinjunja, the highest snowy range to the north. It was like a flame bursting forth on the white head, and was a most magnificent sight. Soon other peaks caught it, and the eastern slopes began to be bathed in sunshine. A thick belt of cloud lay across the western horizon, and we feared that the Nepaul range, of which Everest is head, would be completely hidden. But as the sun rose higher the cloud broke away, and we had a wonderfully clear view of the celebrated mount. For an hour we feasted our eyes on its grand proportions." Not until the beginning of the following year was Dr. Phillips able again to take up his much-loved Santal work.
"Camp, Barikeel, Feb. 7th, 1873 -- I feel like shouting, as good Deacon Dudley used to say, for the privilege of once more traveling amongst the Santals. The heat is coming on so fast that this trip of three weeks is the last I shall have for months. To-day we have come from a large Santal village, twelve miles east of this. The road is poor, and our rude little cart with the tent and traps did not get here till nearly sunset. Bullocks are slow anywhere, but on cross country trips they barely crawl over the ground." The keen interest which Dr. Phillips always felt and manifested in the work of teaching the children, whether in day or Sunday Schools, appears again and again in his diaries and letters. At a later period in his life we shall see more of the high aspirations and aims which were continually present in his mind for the amelioration of the native children of India. At present we can only note in passing the interest which, beginning in the days of childhood, steadily grew and increased until it culminated in that overwhelming energy which hastened him to a premature grave. Writing from Midnapore on March 8th, 1873, he alludes to this part of his work.
" In January we had our convention at Bhimpore. It was a good time. The different schools that came to our camp for examination did very well, and we had games and gymnastics with the people and teachers each day. Some of the teachers seemed in earnest about seeking Christ, and at one meeting twenty-five spoke, "and two asked for our prayers. When shall we see them all coming to the Saviour’s feet ? It was very gratifying to see girls in almost every one of the village schools."
One of those heavy trials which seem to be the necessary accompaniments of life in the tropics now visited the missionary’s home, and cast over it a cloud which did not disperse for many a weary day. Let Dr. Phillips tell the pathetic story.
"March 31st, 1873 -- Our home is dark to-day, for the shadow of a great sorrow has fallen on it. Last night our darling Nellie left us for Jesus’ arms. She sank rapidly, and all that could be done failed to help her. At a few minutes past midnight our sweet child breathed her last. All is well. The Will of the Lord be done! We feel the sustaining grace of God to be very precious now. The world looked so bright with the children all so well and happy. That baby, too, was my special pet. Her sweet face, her merry prattle, her tiny feet every now and then trotting into my study, had taken captive my willing heart, and God only knows how that precious child has helped me to bear my heavy burdens these months past. The little cot is empty, and my darling pet is gone. You know how at times a wild wave of sorrow comes rolling over the heart, and even faith in God and the blessed hereafter does not stay the flowing tears. But I am comforted with the words, ’ What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.’ We had the funeral by sunset, and the service in Bengali by our native preacher. At the close our children repeated texts of Scripture."
" Aug, 2nd -- Had a hard day with a bad headache. In the afternoon we all took tea in the jungle for a change. Nell went with us the last time. How I miss my darling every day and everywhere ! All is well."
While Dr. Phillips was thus spending and being spent for the native Bengalis and Santals, he was not forgetful of the needs of the Europeans on the stations. The neglected condition of many of these colonists — isolated from their countrymen, too often forgotten amid the pressing claims of the heathen, oftentimes without the means of grace, and having no services to attend except those conducted in a foreign language and adapted rather to the needs of natives than to Europeans — appealed strongly to the heart of Dr. Phillips.
" My mind is much exercised about starting an English service. I am disposed to think that I am being led into the right path about this, that we should have a family service at our house. At such a service I should feel perfectly free, and the work would not be so exhausting as Church service. Congregational singing, responsive reading of the Scriptures, and the recital of the Lord’s Prayer in concert, all this would help to make the meeting like a home service. I am ashamed and confused before God, and condemned at the bar of my own conscience, for so neglecting my neighbors. I cannot see how a true missionary can do his duty without working for the souls of these station people. Does God know any difference between black and white? Am I sent to a particular class or colour, or to all sinners whom I can reach, and upon whom it is in my power to exert any influence? I have sinned, and God helping me I shall commence work amongst my English friends and neighbours." This service was duly started, and was afterwards regularly maintained, the attendance being very encouraging, and the general results proving the wisdom of the methods adopted by the missionary.
It will be remembered that Midnapore was in the direct pilgrim road, and that as a boy, Dr. Phillips had seen the hosts of devotees passing along to the great festivals, some of them measuring their length on the sandy road, others performing penances and undergoing hardships too hideous for description. Now that he was once again amidst the old sights, it was with less curiosity but with far deeper sadness of heart that he witnessed these periodical exhibitions by which paganism still held the people.
" I see this unnumbered host of immortals madly rushing down to ruin, and I would that my voice could reach every ear, and that God would give me a word for every heart. Such a scene as I daily witness on this old pilgrim road to Jagannath is enough to make any Christian’s heart cry aloud to God for help. Every hour crowds of these poor deluded creatures are passing by the chapel door. Old men with bending frames and blistered feet; young men with resolute tread; tender women, duped by cunning libertines wearing the badge of a sensual priesthood ; all these go by day and by night along this way of death. As we call out to them, they halt a moment, listen to a few words, and then lift up once more the fanatical shout, ’ Jai Jagannath samiku jai.’ So the motley crowd hastens on, many of whom will never return along that hard road, worn smooth by a million feet. Many a man and woman of this shouting company will lie down and die, unattended, alone, and helpless, while the priest will pass on, smiling over the coin that he had wrested from the dying grasp of the fallen pilgrim. Then the dogs, the jackals, the crows, and the vultures will hold high carnival over their easy prey, and the poor, pagan, pilgrim soul will pass on to the righteous judgment of the Great Father of all men."
"Dec 31st, 1873 -- We left Midnapore at sunrise on December 16th. Our little mud shanty here has been almost devoured by white ants. We are now at work among the Santals, and are very busy putting up a mud hut to live in. The people gave us a very hearty welcome. As we have brought some of our orphan girls with us, we have quite a congregation to start with. We celebrated the day by marrying off two of our girls, and last Saturday three others were given away. Last April another three were married; so that now eight in all have left us for homes of their own. May God bless them all, and make them a blessing to others! All are members of the Church, and have been a real help to us in our work. Now in other places they are working for the Redeemer.
" Each day is devoted to traveling and preaching, from village to village. One poor old woman, a confirmed cripple, was first impressed by hearing us repeat the Lord’s Prayer day by day in the little school close by her house. Though she could not read a word, she soon learned to pray, and is now a member of this Church. I may be permitted to speak here of a little incident in our quiet jungle life that has cheered us not a little. You may know that almost all our Santal Christians are tillers of the soil. The rainfall had been slight, and their crops, consisting of corn, rice, and the like, were suffering severely. Several brethren were very much depressed in spirits, and their faith began to droop.
" Last Wednesday morning at our daily prayer meeting I felt moved to say that God had not forgotten His creatures like the Hindu Brahma, but was a hearer of prayer, and ready always to send down blessings upon all who asked for them in faith. I proposed to the dejected ones that we should hold a special service that day at one o’clock, when all would be in from their work, and offer prayer for rain. A goodly number met together, and the petitions were direct and fervent. God graciously hearkened to our cry for rain. We were scarcely home from chapel before the drops began to fall, and it proved to be the heaviest shower we had had for weeks. Since then we have had abundance of rain, and now the Bhimpore fields and those of the neighbouring villages too are looking wonderfully changed, and the crops bid fair to turn out well. This direct answer to prayer has greatly cheered our Santal brethren, and taught them to pray for other blessings, temporal and spiritual. I have held a Bible class for three weeks. It is very difficult to get the natives to attend to any duty regularly. They are drawn away by the merest straw. I have got very well through the hard work of the past year, and I count the following among the reasons : —
1st. -- God’s help in answer to prayer.
2nd. -- A long walk every evening in the jungle whenever it could be managed, instead of going into the hot bazaars to preach.
3rd. -- Exchanging tea for cocoa.
4th. -- Using a standing desk for several hours daily.
5th. -- Avoiding late night work.
6th. -- Making over the charge of nearly all weekday services to native helpers.
Dr. Phillips had now been enabled to work and live in the heart of the jungle for eighteen months, and had also completed ten years’ service as an Indian missionary. Although his heart was daily more closely bound to the Indian Mission, and particularly to his work amongst the Santals, yet his physical powers had been gravely and increasingly over-strained. His head and hand could do no more; but the former was racked by almost incessant pain, and the latter had developed paralytic symptoms. The doctors ordered him to return to America at once; and at the beginning of the year 1875 he left the dear old mud house at Bhimpore, with its spreading banyan trees, and sailed for New York.