Читать книгу The Wades: Jonathan Wade, D.D., Deborah B. L. Wade.; A Memorial - Walter N. Wyeth - Страница 4

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There is no near nor far with God! By devious paths he leads his own; Yet is no path so sad, or lone, As that which Christ before us trod. AVANELLE HOLMES REED.

The year of waiting and preparing wore away. They shined here, in the social firmament, with a strong, clear light, magnified in the eyes of others on account of the steadiness and nobility of their aim. With each passing day they appeared to stand nearer to each other, and their shining to become more nearly one. Awaiting their nuptials and departure for the field, they were strengthened with each other and with their friends. The time for the closing scene was not one of impatience; it was only too short.

Events in this year, 1822-23, were marriage, ordination, designation, with the consummation of plans for a life-time, beyond recall, and sealed by putting the sea between themselves and all they had called their own. They had in some way become identified with the town of Edinburgh, N.Y., probably by ministerial service, and they were registered as from there. Mr. Wade was ordained at Broadalbin, N.Y., February 13, 1823. Mrs. Wade had that setting apart of herself, simply, that followed the coming of a secret whisper to the soul, telling her that she was not her own.

On June 6th they passed their test as qualified missionaries. At this time it was the custom of the Board of Foreign Missions to appoint a committee in each state to examine candidates. The committee for New York met on the above date, at Hamilton, and performed its duty, with the most satisfactory results. Although Mrs. Wade was not to be examined in theology, for such an appointment as is now made a part of the missionary system, still there was an extreme sacredness attaching to her position as there was to that of the pastor's wife of her day. The committee, therefore, declared the persuasion that "the prudence, piety and attainments of Mrs. Wade were such as to render her a most suitable companion for a missionary."

Five days thereafter, on June 11, Mr. Wade was set apart at Utica, N.Y., as Missionary to Burmah. How impressive and sweetly solemn the occasion must have been in that day of small things, and especially in view of the dignity of the Council! There was Nathaniel Kendrick, one of the foremost teachers in the denomination, as preacher of the sermon; Alfred Bennett, whose weight of character and intensity of interest in missions was unexcelled, to offer the ordaining prayer; Daniel Hascall, founder of the Seminary, to give the charge to this, the first, missionary jewel of Alma Mater, and Joel W. Clark, a kindred spirit, to give the right hand of fellowship. And by no means the least impressive parts of the service were those performed by the eminent John Peck, who "delivered some appropriate and affectionate remarks to Mrs. Wade," and the not less eminent Elon Galusha, who gave her the hand of Christian fellowship. These were champions of the young missionary cause, who had attained their faith in it and were maintaining it through the tribulations imposed by the anti-missionists. Never have the sent had a stronger sending; never the two parties more fully been one in sympathy and lofty purpose, as well as in prayerful and tearful remembrance of each other.

The event of departure hastened on. On the 22d of the same month they waved their adieu to their native land and spake the word whose sound makes the foot linger. Yet they were not alone. Mrs. Judson was ready to sail with them. Her experience and great strength of character caused her to take the arrangements for passage into her own hands, and Mr. and Mrs. Wade were glad enough to shelter themselves beneath her management, and to enjoy the presence of a woman so supreme. The farewell service at the wharf in Boston was rendered peculiarly impressive by the prayer of Dr. Thomas Baldwin, who had been officially identified with the missionary movement from its origin, and by Mrs. Wade's call for the old hymn, "From whence doth this union arise?" which was sung with much feeling as the boat moved out from the shore to the ship. The vessel was the Edward Newton. Never before had it conveyed so precious freight to the East. This was its best trip, and, as it proved, its last.

During the voyage Mr. and Mrs. Wade were diligent students of the Burmese, under Mrs. Judson's instructions, and they also actively engaged in spiritual work in behalf of the ship's crew. The captain, A. Bertody, who received unqualified praise for the high moral stand he took, as well as for his extraordinary courtesies to the missionaries, desired them to hold public worship on the Sabbath, and to "take frequent opportunities to converse with the sailors on the important concerns of their souls." And Mrs. Wade felt specially favored in having the society of Mrs. Judson, who, as she wrote, was a sister to her, making her very happy, and advising her as to the work and way before her.

The Edward Newton arrived at Calcutta, its destination, October 19, 1823. The whole voyage from America to this place, the emporium of India, was "peculiarly prosperous"; and the missionaries gratefully stepped again upon the solid earth, after four months at sea. Yet the welcome extended to them by the English missionaries, and the atmosphere of civilization imparted to the city by English residents, could not give content to souls enlisted for the war against heathenism, and after an enforced delay of several weeks they improved the first opportunity to take ship for Rangoon, at which place they arrived on December 5th.

The fate of the vessel that had brought them over the sea so safely, and in less time than usual, (the Edward Newton.) was a very sad one. On its return voyage it was burned in latitude 29 S., lon. 10 1/2 E., on February 20, 1824, after rounding the Cape of Good Hope. The crew and passengers escaped to the open boats, and, though finally saved, they suffered for twenty days "all that human nature could endure," principally from thirst. By this disaster, friends in America lost the expected tidings from the missionaries, and it was more than a year from their embarkation before they were heard from.

One source of joy to Mr. and Mrs. Wade, on reaching safely their appointed field, was the reunion of Mr. and Mrs. Judson after a necessary separation of more than two years--August 21, 1821, to December 5, 1823. Such an occasion had thus far been unknown among American missionaries, and there was something in the circumstances to awaken the very finest sympathetic joy--the solitary husband, in a homeless land; the wife, so admirably suited to meet the requirements of his soul and his work, beyond the seas and in precarious condition of health, and a special endeavor upon which his heart was set awaiting her helpful presence, viz., the sad errand to Ava that was providentially delayed until the unsparing heroine was ready.

What wonder that Mr. Judson should write: "I had the inexpressible happiness of welcoming Mrs. Judson once more to the shores of Burmah." Welcome, not "home," but "to the shores of Burmah!"--from tried to untried wanderings, perils and seekings of rest for the foot and fruitful work for the hands. It was a "reception" indeed, and one to be remembered, as a letter of Mrs. Judson's explains: "Mr. J.'s boat was all in readiness, my baggage was immediately taken from the ship to the boat, and in seven days from my arrival we were on our way to the capital"--to "habitations of cruelty."

This domestic circumstance, the first in their observation, was very significant to the new missionaries, and it became sadly so as the months went by and the war cloud gathered and drifted toward the capital. They had experiences for themselves also; hopeful at their entrance upon their mission, and followed by fear as they entered the same cloud that deepened above those who had just gone away. Mr. Wade wrote: "I need not attempt to describe our own feelings upon seeing this place, which we had so often prayed might be the scene of our future labors and sufferings in behalf of the heathen, whose deplorable condition had often drawn from our eyes the tear of Christian sympathy."

The new missionaries had some advantages at the beginning, not enjoyed by those who entered the field before them. Mr. Judson had finished translating the New Testament into Burmese about six months previous to their arrival, and Mr. Geo. H. Hough, a printer, who had entered the mission just before them, was now printing it. Mr. and Mrs. Hough were their associates, making society for them and rendering assistance; and the "smattering" of the language they had obtained in America and on shipboard may have been a help also. There were several converts connected with the mission, though a part of them had gone with the Judsons. Yet, how infantile, even puny, was the mission, considering the immense empire of false religions to be subdued to Christ.

When, however, they came to study the language they met with embarrassment in the want of a suitable dictionary. Mr. Judson's dictionary was better than none, yet it contained only the words beginning with the letters of about two-thirds of the alphabet. Some words, not contained in it, occurred in almost every sentence; sometimes several in one. A Burman teacher could render but little help for want of a knowledge of the English; and Mr. and Mrs. Hough could not give them the time necessary. Dr. Price had been at Ava for some time. They lived at the Mission-house, with Mr. and Mrs. Hough, though in separate families, and ultimately made arrangements to study with them, as it might be mutually advantageous.

Mrs. Wade, after discharging domestic duties, gave much time to the reading of the New Testament, with the aid of a native Christian, to translating Mrs. Judson's Catechism, and in daily accumulating new phrases. The little church, of eighteen members in all, was much scattered by means of the oppressive taxation; many of them, being unable to pay, had fled to the woods.

It will be interesting to the reader, as well as helpful to an understanding of the difficulties under which these early missionaries labored, and by means of which their true characters were revealed, to take a view of the field as they found it. Rangoon at that time (1823) was the second city of the Burman empire. Ava (Burman spelling, Ang-wa or Awa), located in the central part of the empire, was the capital, the seat of the emperor. Rangoon, in the southern part, three hundred and fifty-four miles from Ava, was a subordinate capital, and was occupied by a viceroy, one ruling in the name of a king. Its population was large; variously estimated from eight thousand to fifty thousand, according to the guessing faculty of the visitor. Without a census, a heathen population can not well be known, even approximately.

By reference to the map the empire will lie before the eye in its proper shape, with the course of its mountains and rivers distinctly visible. The chief rivers are the Irrawady (Ah-rah-wah-tee) and the Salwen, having a length of eight hundred to one thousand miles each, and running almost due south, and, therefore, in some degree parallel with each other. The Salwen, the eastern of the two, communicates with the Irrawady by numerous branches, and thus waters the intermediate regions.

At about seventy-five miles from the Bay of Bengal the great Irrawady parts into two streams, sending one in a south-eastward and the other in a south-westward direction, and forming a large delta. These also are parted into numerous branches, which form an extensive network of navigable waters, covering a large area, and which finally enter the bay by fourteen separate channels. These channels are mostly obstructed by sand-bars, and, so, of little use for navigation. On the eastern of the two main branches is situated the city of Rangoon, about twenty-five miles from the bay. The mouth of this stream, called the Rangoon river, is about six miles wide; yet the channel is narrow, changeable, and difficult to find, on account of extensive shoals. A flat shore, scarcely above high tides, gives the mariner no certain landmarks, and pilots in the time under review were not readily obtained.

In the time of the early missionaries Rangoon, notwithstanding its lack of improvement, was the only seaport of consequence in the empire; yet it had scarcely one attractive feature. The land forming the vast delta described, and in which it was located, being almost on a level with the surface of the divisions and subdivisions of the Irrawady, was of a low, marshy character. The city seemed to stand on a wide, un-improved meadow, resembling a swamp. The defenses common to the cities of superstitious people were not better than their ignorance and assumption of superiority would justify us in expecting, and were of little avail as against attacks from disciplined nations. They were merely stockades; rows of timbers standing on end, some eighteen feet high, with a narrow staging running around inside, for musketeers. Add a few disabled cannon lying about the gateways, and the defense is fully described.

There was nothing attractive to the eye of the traveler approaching the city. First, a few wooden houses appear, standing between the river and the fortifications, while back of the same there was a general display of bamboo huts, with only a few shabby brick residences and some small brick houses of worship for foreigners. As homes--one-story buildings, covered with thatch, that was removed during the dry season to prevent fire, floored with split bamboo to permit the dirt to fall through to nature's scavengers, and raised several feet from the ground to give ventilation and to keep clear of vile, voracious and creeping things--they were not very inviting to persons of cultivated tastes. Then the swampy, "dead level" site was not relieved by any elevations, such as the beautiful sites to which the missionaries had been accustomed in their native land, and the narrow, soft-paved streets did not admit of even the cheerful racket of wheeled vehicles. The low inhabitants, lolling about the streets, were not so much a relief as a weariness to the eye.

Says Dr. Malcom, 1836: "There is neither wharf nor quay. In four or five places are wooden stairs at which small boats may land passengers, but even these do not extend within twenty feet of low water mark. Vessels lie in the stream and discharge into boats, from which the packages, slung to a bamboo, are lugged on men's shoulders to the custom house."

There was none of the pride of home and city, so prevalent in enlightened countries. All attempts at architectural display were confined to their idolatries; and in that direction they were excessive. A traveler, like the Apostle Paul, would have been impressed by their squalor and their extravagant superstition at the same time. He would have said, "I perceive that in all things ye are too religious." They wasted much on their religion. They brought the best of animal and mineral productions under contribution to their idolatrous notions and practices, to which they were supremely devoted.

The ways in which their means continuously flowed were the pagoda furnishings and worship. Pagodas were erected all about in accessible and conspicuous places. They were not held as subordinate and secondary to business; business was made subservient to them. The chief highway from the city, and the only one over which a person could ride, seems to have been set apart to them, and was called Pagoda Road. It bristled with their gleaming turrets. Large and small, but of nearly uniform shape, were these many shrines of idolatry.

A pagoda is not occupied with idols as is an idol's temple. It is built in their honor, and for the promotion of their worship; while the real places for offerings and services are built around them. They are not constructed with spacious rooms nor with any chambers, except some small vaults for the deposit of treasures. They are usually of solid masonry, with all the appurtenances on the outside.

Mr. and Mrs. Wade found Rangoon wholly given to idolatry, and without any of the attractions and conveniences that make life enjoyable. Mr. and Mrs. Judson, pioneers who knew how to give lessons to new comers in management and adaptation, went immediately away, leaving them to an unlearned language and a besotted people, as also under a rapacious government, that had no respect for the rights and liberties of citizenship, and only bare toleration for respectable foreigners.

They were confronted by the pomp in which the religion of the country appeared, and which rendered it exceedingly obstinate, as held by its superstitious devotees. Pagoda Road was thronged with false religionists going to and from their vain oblations. It was the broad road to death, and, as yet, they could do nothing to check the travel. They must suffer a while from a sight of the sweeping destruction of souls taking place, and from a sense of their inability to prevent it.

There was one pagoda in the vicinity, centuries old, and of great dimensions and magnificence, that stood as the very buttress of heathenism in the empire. It was the Shway-dagon (Shoo-da-gon). It is still there; celebrated, almost, as one of the wonders of the world. It is located on Pagoda Road, and its site was evidently selected because of its being elevated and comparatively handsome. It is surrounded by many smaller pagodas, some fine zayats (teaching and entertaining places), and kyoungs (priests' houses), and many trees. It has ever been kept in good repair, while others have been permitted to go to decay, or have received but little attention. Some have become mere grass-grown heaps. All are conical, or pyramidal, but very slender in form, and of a graceful appearance, making a very pleasant impression to the eye, with various ornamental juttings and the indispensable cap, collar or umbrella--named according to the fancy of the observer. The latter serves as a musical instrument. Its ribs are tipped with little bells, so hung and adjusted as to tinkle when a breeze passes over them, thus producing a pleasant melody throughout the circuit.

The Shway-dagon was described by Dr. Howard Malcom, who visited it in 1836, in the following minute and graphic manner:

The hill has been graduated into successive terraces, sustained by brick walls; and the summit, which is completely leveled, contains about two acres. The two principal approaches from the city are lined on each side, for a mile, with fine pagodas, some almost vieing for size with Shoo-da-gon itself.

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Passing these on your way from the city you come to a flight of time-worn steps, covered by a curious arcade of little houses, one above another, some in partial decay, others truly beautiful. After crossing some terraces, covered in the same manner, you reach the top, and, passing a great gate, enter at once this sad but imposing theatre of Gaudamas' glory. One's first impressions are--what terrible grandeur! what sickening magnificence! what absurd imagery! what extravagant expenditure! what long successions of devotees to procure this throng of buildings of such various dates! what a poor religion that makes such labors its chief meritoriousness!

Before you stands the huge Shoo-da-gon, its top among the clouds, and its golden sides blazing in the glories of an eastern sun. Around are pompous zayats, noble pavements, gothic mausoleums, uncouth colossal lions, curious stone umbrellas, gracefully cylindrical banners of gold-embroidered muslin hanging from lofty pillars, enormous stone jars in rows to receive offerings, tapers burning before the images, exquisite flowers displayed on every side, filling the air with fragrance, and a multitude of carved figures of idols, worshipers, griffins, guardians, etc.

Always in the morning men and women are seen in every direction kneeling behind their gift, and with uplifted hands reciting their devotions, often with a string of beads counting over each repetition; aged persons sweep out every place, or pick the grass from the crevices; dogs and crows straggle around the altars, and devour the recent offerings; the great bells utter their frequent tones, and the mutter of praying voices makes a hum like the buzzing of an exchange.

In and about Rangoon there were, probably, not less than five hundred inferior pagodas, which, with their environs, were said to occupy as much space as the city itself, if not more. They were situated in groves and amid costly kyoungs and zayats, for the accommodation of the hosts of worshipers who came thither, at certain seasons of the year, from all parts of the country. Cooked food of all sorts was brought--pastry, flesh and fowl--the nicest the natives could produce, as an offering to the gods. When the days or seasons for offering were past, the domestic animals, birds of prey, and any other creatures that sought a chance, were permitted to devour it. After an offering was once made it was no longer regarded. Crows and dogs often snatched a gift ere the offerer had finished his prayers. Priests (Ponghees) were not necessary at the altar. Their office was preaching and teaching, and they lived by carrying a vessel or pouch from door to door, and thus receiving gifts. Their office was little more than a sinecure, and it might be assumed or vacated at their pleasure. They would sometimes vacate it temporarily for the liberty that a suspension of its vows secured.

As the Great Pagoda ever has been and continues to be an object to amaze and appall the missionary--in the experience of the Wades to do more than that--a description of it by a recent traveler is added, showing how it withstands the wear of centuries, and attracts the attention of the world. He says:

The great Shway Dagon Pagoda of Rangoon has a golden spire and jeweled top, which glitters in the sun from every point of the compass. Even the terrace or platform on which the pagoda is built rises over one hundred and sixty feet from the level roads beneath it, and is nine hundred feet long by six hundred and eighty feet wide. The ascent to this platform is by four flights of steps, one opposite the center of each face. The pagoda itself, built on the center of this immense terrace or platform, has a ground circumference of one thousand three hundred and thirty-five feet, and rises to a height of three hundred and seventy feet, which is about that of St. Paul's cathedral in London. It is gilded from top to bottom, and its golden spire (or h-tee, as it is called) contains at least two hundred and fifty thousand dollars worth of jewels, with silver bells that are forever tinkling in the breeze. Chapels and shrines, also, of various sizes, are built around this pagoda, on the platform of which thousands of worshipers pace during the days of high festival. Within these hundreds of images of Gautema may be seen, of all sizes, sitting, standing and reclining, before which are continually burning tapers and candles. This building claims to be, and very probably is, more than two thousand years old; it is enriched by the supposed relics of eight hairs from the head of Gautema, besides the bathing garment, the water dippers and walking staff of the three preceding Buddhas.

It was well known by the English soldiers that the pagodas were repositories of curious and valuable things, and whenever they had access to them they did not hesitate to break into them at any vulnerable point, and penetrating to the receptacles of such treasures, carry them away. They enriched themselves in this way, and probably the British Museum also. Shway-dagon did not escape; and the scars, even the holes they made, stand a testimony to the ravishment of war.