The Common Task
It was in the year 1892 that the new single District Council was started, with as its chairman Mr. Walker, and its vice-chairman Mr. Carr. Both had come out, with the thought in view of direct spiritual work among the Hindus; and though that work still went on whenever possible side by side with ministration to the Christians, the main duty of life now was what the world calls secular, in that quite unromantic place, an ordinary mission office. If it is true (and surely it is) that “the finest life lies oft in doing finely a multitude of unromantic things,” their lives were fine; but they did not always feel fine, and the period we are entering now is marked by a certain greyness of atmosphere, in spite of the cheerful tone of letters already quoted, and still to be quoted: for the true missionary keeps the tiredness out of his letters. “He used to sit down to table with a sigh,” is a most descriptive word from the one who knows most of that time. For the brightness of later years had not as yet become the habit of life on common days. On uncommon days, days of special strain or need for effort, such as the presence of less intimate friends, he would make an effort, and emerge from the grey, bright and cheery. But the “level stretches white with dust” tried him, as they try most of us; and it was the sense of failure on common days which led him eventually to seek and to receive that gift of joyous constant peace which, particularly towards the end, so singularly distinguished him.
The year opened with a tour in the district with Bishop Gell and his chaplain, Rev. S. Morley (afterwards Bishop Morley of Tinnevelly). The tour was mainly in the interest of the Christians, but it was utilised whenever possible for reaching
the Hindus.
in
Such opportunities came unsought, for the Bishop of Madras, being connected with Government, was received everywhere by Hindu officials with acclamation both politic and polite. Upon his arrival at the station where he was to alight for his first camp, the Christian schoolboys met him with banners and lyrics; and the Hindus, not to be outdone in demonstrations of respect, provided a brass band.
“But by an amicable arrangement,” explains a home letter,” the Christians sang their lyrics and the Hindus banged their instruments in orderly alternative, and thus, with quite a crowd of people to escort us, we wended our way to the travellers’ bungalow. I could not help contrasting this with the far different welcome we sometimes receive when we go as simple preachers of the Gospel.
“Among the Bishop’s visitors were the peons (messengers) connected with the various Government offices, each in his uniform and gay shoulder-sash. The Bishop gave them a homethrust when he said he hoped they did not oppress the poor or take bribes. The spokesman of the rest, who looked a hardened old rascal, replied that it was true some peons did these wicked things, but not virtuous gentlemen like themselves. All the same, he looked a rogue every inch. Wherever he goes the Bishop takes every opportunity, private and public, for preaching Christ to all who come near him, and these peons did not escape.
“After dinner in the moonlight the itinerating band arranged for an open-air preaching to the heathen, and invited the Bishop to come and speak. We had a capital preaching. One of the evangelists spoke first, then Mr. Morley by interpretation. Next came the old Bishop, and it was grand to hear him preach the Gospel to that crowd of Hindus. If only all bishops were like this one!”
Tinnevelly has been blest in her bishops; all have been keen evangelists.
The last of these times of witness -bear ing was an impromptu meeting just before the train moved off. “An open-air meeting on a railway platform with a bishop as preacher; grand, wasn’t it?” concludes a home letter.
“The Bishop’s tour in Tinnevelly is just at an end,” he had written to his sister a day or two previously. “We have had a frightfully busy time in Palamcottah. The Confirmation and Ordination, followed by a series of special services, councils, etc., took up every minute of my time. It was almost amusing to see the crowd of pastors and agents who nocked to the office in the intervals between the meetings, each anxious for an interview about his own particular work. It was a case of so many interviews to the hour. My letters simply had to accumulate unopened in a huge heap, and it took me a hard day’s work, with the assistance of a secretary, to wipe them off; but now I am free again.”
The hymn “Veni Creator” was translated during this tour. The thought of it sets the whole to music, which harmonises with the memory of the gentle and saintly Bishop.
“Enable with perpetual light
The d ulness of our blinded sight.
Anoint and cheer our soiled face
With the abundance of Thy grace.
“Teach us to know the Father, Son,
And Thee, of both, to be but One;
That through the ages all along
This may be our endless song:
Praise to Thy eternal merit,
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.”
One duty of the time was, as a home letter remarks, “curious.” A missionary had died twenty-six years previously at a North Tinnevelly mission station. Since then the church had been built, and her relatives wished her to be laid near it. The “curious” duty was performed, and to an incredulous new arrival some years afterwards the tale was told of the exhuming, re-coffining, and re-burial of the poor lady. Let us hope, as the letter hopes, “that she will now be allowed to rest in peace till the Resurrection.”
Office work was in full swing again, when news came of the illness of a beloved Indian friend, Rev. W. T. Sattianadhan of Madras, who was then staying in his native village near Palamcottah, where he had decided to retire in his old age so that he might witness to his Hindu relatives; his death was his witness. The loss was great to the Tamil Church, for he was a man of beautiful character and rich gifts. The tale of his conversion has often been told. He was won to allegiance to Christ by the power of the Spirit in using a lesson given one morning in school by William Cruikshanks, a blind Christian teacher, upon Genesis v. That night the schoolboy threw himself upon his knees and prayed for the first time to God his Creator.
The remaining work of the year can be thus epitomised: camp, when possible; councils; standing committees and sub-committees; the writing up of minutes; Tamil revision; panjdyats [court of five]; correspondence; business accounts; harvest festivals; the examining of schools; translation of hymns; correction of proofs; setting of examination papers in mathematics and kindred subjects; correcting the same; study of the Toda language by way of holiday diversion; preparation of estimates for mission buildings; enquiries into irregularities, such as marriage of Christians with heathen, and so on; dealing with enquirers; coaching of fellow-missionaries in Tamil. Sometimes a day is comprehensively summarised, “Miscellaneous.” And besides all this, there was the haunting insistence of anxiety for all the churches.
But as certain of the words in the above summary will mean little to the happy multitude, the initiated, to whom they open of themselves, will forgive explanatory paragraphs from the home letters.
“Council. — I had close work to-day at the new regulations for Council. What a pity that such elaborate organisation is needed. One wonders how the pastoral department was managed in Apostolic times, whether they had pastorate committees at Ephesus and Corinth. Anyhow, St. James was the chairman of the Council at Jerusalem, though I can’t imagine that Council making money grants for the repair of deacons’ houses, etc. etc.”
A meeting of Council is thus described in a previous letter:
“We were now ready for the business of the Council. I sit at the head of the table, with the vice-chairman and secretary on my right. On either side are the pastors, elected agents,
CH. XL] THE COMMON TASK 185
and lay members of the Council, while in the background during part of the proceedings the whole body of the agents are allowed to be present. A suitable portion of Scripture is read, and prayer offered for God’s blessing on our deliberations. And now the minutes of the last Council, with those of the auxiliary circle committees, are read and discussed. I try to encourage independence of opinion, and so occasionally the scene is quite animated, a considerable amount of energy both of speech and gesture being expended; my sharp rap on the table is then necessary to restore dignity to the proceedings.
“It wearies me, and so I am sure it would weary distant friends who have no personal interest in these matters at issue, to hear all the routine of business questions. Discipline has to be enforced; church building schemes have to be discussed (we have five such schemes on hand); money has to be voted for the repair of schools and agents’ houses; plans have to be concocted for endeavouring to stir up our people to liberality and self-support; increases of salary have to be considered; new agents must be appointed, and some existing agents need to be transferred. It used to be said that the Tinnevelly Councils ought to be called Am, Am meetings (Yes, Yes meetings), because the members said ‘Yes ’ to whatever the chairman proposed. It certainly is not the case now; for the liveliest interest is evinced in every part of the proceedings, and many of the resolutions on this occasion were only carried by majorities when I put them to the vote. Let them see that they are responsible for the funds, and you need not fear lest they should go to sleep over the administration of them. I wonder my knuckles are not sore with rapping on the table to attempt to curb interest which threatened to be over-keen! Three hours’ work involving close attention to business proceedings conducted in a foreign language is not so easy as it sounds, and so we were glad to adjourn a little before 3 o’clock for half an hour’s respite.”
“Writing of Minutes. — The rest of my day was occupied till after 9 o’clock at night in writing out the minutes of our two days’ Council. I have found by experience that it saves time in the long-run to write out the first rough draft myself; but it is real hard work. Twelve pages of foolscap, written closely in my small cramped handwriting; and memory hard at work all the time to recollect for accurate record all the minutiao of the business deliberations of two long days, with only scrappy notes to assist it. It was as much the dread of continuing the task on another day as anything else which induced me to scribble away till the work was accomplished. But we get our reliefs in the midst of every troublous task, and mine came in the shape of the English mail. And one outcome of hard work is the relished enjoyment of a good night’s rest.”
“Correspondence. — I had rather a large budget of letters to answer this morning before breakfast. The cheap post is very convenient; but oh, the toil it brings to anyone placed in a position of responsibility! I dread an accumulation of unanswered letters, and so try to clear them off and deal with them as they come.”
Sometimes correspondence included answering the interminable questions asked by “some dabbler in missionary matters,” usually sent in the form of a printed set of enquiries upon all manner of subjects:
“When a man in England wants to write a book about missions, he sends a regular plague of troublesome questions to be answered. I undertook to fill up the said form and set to work. Mr. Somebody or other wanted to know whether we use a special form for the admission of catechumens, and other equally superfluous matters — a long string of about fifty cross-examinations. I came to the conclusion that if we missionaries wasted our time often over such red-cape forms, we should never have any catechumens at all.”
“Tamil Revision. — If anyone wants some close work, let him undertake the revision of a long Tamil MS. My difficulty in this case has been increased by the fact that the writer of the MS. [Commentary on Genesis] has freely used current anglicised commentaries, and extracted from them many details, scientific and linguistic. So I have had to do work with the Tamil Bible on one side, and my Hebrew Old Testament and Septuagint on the other. Not being fortunate enough to possess the English original from which my author extracted his statements, and not being credulous enough to believe all that one finds in English commentaries, it has been necessary to verify all the facts for myself. Here goes for a few of the miscellanies which I have had to verify as well as possible from a limited library: the number of species of birds in the world; the distance of certain fixed stars; the number of stars in a little patch of the Milky Way, counted in the objectglass of a telescope during the space of one hour; the determination of the exact number of years spent by Jacob in Padan-aram; the identification of all the descendants of Shem, Ham, and Japheth; the meaning of almost every name mentioned in the Book of Genesis. These, and a host of other such. And added to all these, the correction of the Tamil spelling; the improvement, where absolutely needed, of the Tamil style; the necessity of attention to the doctrine and, above all, to the spiritual application of the history — and the task is formidable enough to make a reviser hesitate before he undertakes to correct and prepare for the press a Tamil Commentary on an Old Testament book, especially when daily business obliges him to interrupt his work continually.”
“Panjayat. — To-day we were to hold a panjayat, to enquire into a family dispute which is disturbing the congregation. It was a last attempt to keep the Christians of the place from going to law before unbelievers (one of them had already filed a suit in the Government court), and so, much as I disliked the whole business, I was determined to do my best. At noon we assembled the rival parties in the tent, and held a formal enquiry. They are rich people, and it was a question as to the fair and proper division of the property — a knotty question in India, where so many diverse rules and customs prevail. As I watched the keen interest which they all took in the matter, and tried from time to time to restrain the all too animated voices and gesticulations, I wished, with an inward sigh, that they would display the same interest in the cause of the spread of the Gospel among the heathen.”
The panjayat lasted for several days, and at last ended without appeal to the Civil Court.
Harvest Festivals. — The first had been held at Sachiapuram, ^orth Tinnevelly, in the previous year, on his initiative. It proved such a success that the idea was taken up all over the listrict. These gatherings of the Christians within a given area
0 their central church were made times of special effort to help hem. Many of them had been, as they expressed it,” born
1 the Way,” and needed to be renewed in heart; others were icent converts to Christianity, and needed to be converted ) Christ. For to quote the word of a missionary to the South ea Islands, it is true that often, even in the case of converts, this second conversion is required; though the change effected by the first (conversion to Christianity) is at times so great that we are liable to mistake it for the real thing, conversion to Christ. So there were mixed meetings, and separate meetings for women and children; as well as the great event of the festival, the meeting when gifts in money and in kind were brought and offered in church, or if they were reluctant animals, in the church porch or the great pandal, an open booth made of mats. The singing was always a feature of the meetings; it was most enthusiastic, and accompanied by every known variety of instrument obtainable. To meet the new need, new hymns were translated, the nucleus of the Gospel Hymn-book (translation from Songs and Solos), now in its eleventh edition.
“I believe in doing things carefully and conscientiously in God’s service,” says one of the letters with reference to the preparations for the first of these festivals; “and have little sympathy with that laziness or casualness which won’t take the trouble to shape and arrange things beforehand. We do not deserve success and blessing, if we will not take the trouble to prepare ourselves for it.”
“One who was conspicuously faithful in little things,” a line he under-scored in the Preface to Silvanus Thompson’s Life of Lord Kelvin, quite accurately describes him as he was even in those early years; so too does a couplet from Ibsen’s Brand which he liked and sometimes quoted:
“Aye, the times for greatness call,
Just because they are so small.”
Now that the Harvest Festival is a recognised institution, not only in the C.M.S. but in other missions, it is interesting to read the last sentence concerning the first festival written on almost disintegrated paper:
“It has provided a model for imitation for other places. There is nothing the Indian enjoys more than a festival, and I don’t see why we should not give our Christians one of a thoroughly Gospel character, a holy convocation unto the Lord, a real feast of tabernacles wherein we may draw water with joy out of the wells of salvation. ‘They joy before Thee according to the joy in harvest.’”
Constant itineration in the district, and the allied business work involved in the chairmanship, led, as a previous letter has shown, to close contact with the people, which resulted in a thorough knowledge of facts. Sometimes an opinion formed upon matters of mission policy is expressed with the utmost clearness:
“I consider the system of buying land and settling poor Christians upon it, is a failure in Tinnevelly. Many are the instances I could cite of bad consequences arising from this well-meant mode of charity. We have excellent rules in these mission villages, but it is almost an impossible task to eject the offenders from house and land. It is easy to make good rules for a good object; the wickedness of man thwarts our best intentions.”
But in speaking of such things he always took care to add a word to the effect that it was easy for us looking back to see where mistakes had been made; it was a very difficult matter where the first missionaries were concerned. For he had no sympathy with the spirit which criticises unkindly the pioneer who fought his way blindly through the undergrowth.
All through the months there had been increasing anxiety about Mrs. Walker. A letter of February 23rd tells how the choice fell.
“It is settled that B. sails in the GoorTcha on April 2nd. It is all in God’s hands, and we are content to leave it there. If by His goodness (and His mercies are great) she gets stronger in a year or so, I shall hope to take four months’ leave next year and come and fetch her out again. But it is hard to see far ahead, and needless too.”
On April 2nd Mrs. Walker sailed for England. The journal entry upon the evening of that day is:
“Took Tamil service in Zion Church (Mr. Sattianadhan’s church, Madras), and preached on Psalm lxxxiv. 4: ‘Blessed are they that dwell in Thy house: they will be still praising Thee.’”
Such experiences were worth all that they cost. They brought him to the place where he could look up with confidence, and say:
“I know Thee, Lord, Who hast kept my path and made
Light for me in the darkness, tempering sorrow,
So that it reached me like a solemn joy:
It were too strange if I could doubt Thy love.”
Then came the tussle with life’s minutiae, and the scrimmage of departure for the hills.
“I had just time after office work to shove my things into a bag, all except a few odds and ends which I gathered up in a scuffle and stuck into my rug strap, and then we were off. A very uncomfortable journey (part way), the carriage crammed with people.”
This in the blazing heat, when everyone is in an impolite condition of perpetual drip, is an exhausting detail; but every thing is forgotten when at last the plains lie below, simmering in pink light and lovely to look upon, for then with quite startling suddenness comes a new and delightful sensation of physical comfort, almost energy; to enjoy which pleasant feeling to perfection, it is necessary to have been most uncomfortable and quite devoid of natural vigour for some little time, an experience procurable perhaps only in the tropics.
Some years later, the question of this annual migration was thrashed out with a younger missionary, who had protested against it on the ground that some of the civilians stayed down through the heat, “and if they can, why cannot we?” “They want to save up ’ leave ’ and go home,” was the answer; “you want to save up strength and stay out.”
Among the walks of the year was one to Mukurty Peak, the tooth-shaped peak from which the Todas of the hills pass, they believe, to Paradise. The women missionaries of the party, among whom was Miss Ling, pioneer in work among the Todas, rode ponies which had to be propelled with some difficulty across the mountain streams. The first night was spent in a small bungalow out on the Downs.
“The ladies on one side, Bishop Hodges (of Travancore) on the other, and I slept on a table in the central room,” says the journal; “and next morning early we started for Mukurty Peak with a Toda for our guide, a good thirteen miles across hill and valley along a rough Toda track. Arrived at the foot of the mountain, we had a steep ascent of about two miles, which was real collar work; but no words of mine can describe the scene. It was perfect. Just below us was a dizzy drop, with Nilgiri Peak on the other side. Across another valley was a magnificent range of hills, which looked perfectly blue in the light which fell upon them. I enjoyed my table bed at night.”
It was during this expedition that Miss Ling passed her viva voce in Toda, he himself, to his amusement, being examiner; talks with the Toda people in their groups of beehive -shaped huts, called by the people munds, and the examining of a little Toda school, were items included in this, the great walk of the year.
“If ever the history of the Toda Mission is written,” writes Miss Ling,1 “his name will have a great deal to do with it; for his help in encouraging and directing my Toda studies, for his care of my Toda boys, as I sent them to him one by one, good and bad, and for his ever-ready counsel about the Toda work as in all other matters.”
With the exception of one or two such days, the record reads much as if it had been written on the plains:
“Address preparation; heavy correspondence; evening, Bible reading; afterwards, evangelistic service in Masonic Hall, by which solemnised myself; dealing with souls; sick visits; sermon preparation; Toda munshi; glad of Sunday.”
And so on as of old.
The plunge into camp and office work was made as usual early in June. One entry is briefly, “Harassing “; but the time was lightened by some of the sweetest of our hymns:
; ‘Sun of my soul ’ taking shape in Tamil. Translated ‘At even, ere the sun was set’; ‘Jesus shall reign’ and ‘Jesus Christ is risen to-day ’ shaped themselves.”
But the journal, after three months’ daily round in detail, breaks off abruptly.
1 Whose book, Dawn in Toda Land (Morgan & Scott), tells something of the story.
Up till August 22nd it is an impersonal record of places visited, things done. Upon the 22nd the entry is briefly, “Office work. Wrote to B. and S.” The mail before had brought bad news. One of the two letters written that day tells as much as a letter may:
“You have probably heard how serious B.’s case is. ... It is a most anxious time, and is like putting one’s Isaac on the altar. But the Master has an indisputable right to do with us just what He will. It is walking by faith every day; one cannot see ahead; but doubtless He has provided some better thing for us, which we know not of. One’s soul has to wait for Him and for His will amidst the throng of many duties. If it were not for the grace and rest which He gives, flesh and blood might well quail. I expect more definite information by next mail. Better, far better walk with God in the dark than walk alone in the light. I am prepared to stay or come away, as He may direct.”
Verses he underlined in Whittier tell the rest:
“Know well, my soul, God’s hand controls
Whate’er thou fearest;
Round Him in calmest music rolls
Whate’er thou hearest.
What to thee is shadow, to Him is day.
And the end He knoweth,
And not on a blind and aimless way
The spirit goeth.
“Nothing before, nothing behind;
The steps of Faith
Fall on the seeming void, and find
The rock beneath.
And that cloud itself, which now before thee
Lies dark in view,
Shall with beams of light from the inner glory
Be stricken through.”
“September 15. — Arrived at Palamcottah [from camp]. Office work. Packing for England.” Thus the journal; and overleaf nothing of detail, only two or three lines of larger writing, covering fifteen months at a stride:
“In England till October 1893, when returned with B. in the Kaiser-i-Hind. Arrived Tinnevelly November 17th, and was struck down with malaria or similar malady, being more or less hors de combat for weeks. A fortnight at Mengnanapuram set me up fairly, and returned to Palamcottah January 23rd, 1894. Diary not resumed till after this.”
But the time in England, though marked by a blank in the journal, had been well occupied. For several months he did secretarial work in the C.M.S. House, and many calls came to preach on behalf of missions. One sermon preached at St. James’s, Holloway, had for its text, “Victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” The date was the first Sunday in 1893. Mrs. Walker had just undergone a critical operation, and the result was still unknown. Upon that day the sermon, as one describes it, was a deep personal word, full of faith and triumph. Ten years afterwards, in speaking of the time, he said, “I experienced then what it was to be given victory over anxiety.”
On the voyage out, he took Bible-readings with his fellow-passengers, one of whom contributes a note upon the last chapter of Joshua, which she took down at the time:
“Earth’s labours ended; when all the work was ended that God had given him to do, Joshua died. After these things: What that summed up! After what things shall we die? He was buried among the people for whom he had laboured. Abundant labours, great influence.”
Read in the light of August 24, 1912, the words are good in their appropriateness to his own end.
“See this my garden,
Large and fair I” — Thus, to his friend
The Philosopher.
“Tis not too long,”
His friend replied,
With truth exact,
“Nor yet too wide,
But well compact,
If somewhat cramped
On every side.”
Quick the reply —
“But see how highl
it reaches up
To God’s blue sky!”
JOHN OXENHAM, Sees in Amber.