Eight Years' Wanderings in Ceylon Part 20

Those of the East have faded away and their strength has perished.

Their ships are crumbled; the rude canoe glides over their waves; the spices grow wild in their jungles; and, unshorn and unclad, the inhabitants wander on the face of the land.

Is it "chance" that has worked this change? Where is the forest-covered country and its savage race, its skin-clad warriors and their frail coracles?

There, where the forest stood, from north to south and from east to west, spreads a wide field of rich fertility. There, on those rivers where the basket-boats once sailed, rise the taut spars of England's navy. Where the rude hamlet rested on its banks in rural solitude, the never-weary din of commerce rolls through the city of the world. The locomotive rushes like a thunder-clap upon the rail; the steamer ploughs against the adverse wind, and, rapid as the lightning, the telegraph cripples time. The once savage land is the nucleus of the arts and civilization. The nation that from time to time was oppressed, invaded, conquered, but never subjected, still pressed against the weight of adversity, and, as age after age rolled on, and mightier woes and civil strife gathered upon her, still the germ of her destiny, as it expanded, threw off her load, until she at length became a nation envied and feared.

It was then that the powers of the world were armed against her, and all Europe joined to tear the laurels from her crown, and fleets and armies thronged from all points against the devoted land, and her old enemy, the Gaul, hovered like his own eagle over the expected prey.

The thunder of the cannon shook the world, and blood tinged the waves around the land, and war and tumult shrieked like a tempest over the fair face of Nature; the din of battle smothered all sounds of peace, and years pa.s.sed on and thicker grew the gloom. It was then the innate might of the old Briton roused itself to action and strained those giant nerves which brought us victory. The struggle was past, and as the smoke of battle cleared from the surface of the world, the flag of England waved in triumph on the ocean, her fleets sat swan-like on the waves, her standard floated on the strongholds of the universe, and far and wide stretched the vast boundaries of her conquests.

Again I ask, is this the effect of "chance?" or is it the mighty will of Omnipotence, which, choosing his instruments from the humbler ranks, has s.n.a.t.c.hed England from her lowly state, and has exalted her to be the apostle of Christianity throughout the world?

Here lies her responsibility. The conquered nations are in her hands; they have been subject to her for half a century, but they know neither her language nor her religion.

How many millions of human beings of all creeds and colors does she control? Are they or their descendants to embrace our faith?--that is, I are we the divine instrument for accomplishing the vast change that we expect by the universal acknowledgement of Christianity? or are we--I pause before the suggestion--are we but another of those examples of human insignificance, that, as from dust we rose, so to dust we shall return? shall we be but another in the long list of nations whose ruins rest upon the solitudes of Nature, like warnings to the proud cities which triumph in their strength? Shall the traveler in future ages place his foot upon the barren sod and exclaim, "Here stood their great city!"

The inhabitants of Nineveh would have scoffed at such a supposition.

And yet they fell, and yet the desert sand shrouded their cities as the autumn leaves fall on the faded flowers of summer.

To a fatalist it can matter but little whether a nation fulfills its duty, or whether, by neglecting it, punishment should be drawn down upon its head. According to his theory, neither good nor evil acts would alter a predestined course of events. There are apparently fatalist governments as well as individuals, which, absorbed in the fancied prosperity of the present, legislate for temporal advantages only.

Thus we see the most inconsistent and anomalous conditions imposed in treaties with conquered powers; we see, for instance, in Ceylon, a protection granted to the Buddhist religion, while flocks of missionaries are sent out to convert the heathen. We even stretch the point so far as to place a British sentinel on guard at the Buddhist temple in Kandy, as though in mockery of our Protestant church a hundred paces distant.

At the same time that we acknowledge and protect the Buddhist religion, we pray that Christianity shall spread through the whole world; and we appoint bishops to our colonies at the same time we neglect the education of the inhabitants.

When I say we neglect the education I do not mean to infer that there are no government schools, but that the education of the people, instead of being one of the most important objects of the government, is considered of so little moment that it is tantamount to neglected.

There are various opinions as to the amount of learning which const.i.tutes education, and at some of the government schools the native children are crammed with useless nonsense, which, by raising them above their natural position, totally unfits them for their proper sphere. This is what the government calls education; and the same time and expense thus employed in teaching a few would educate treble the number in plain English. It is too absurd to hear the arguments in favor of mathematics, geography, etc., etc., for the native children, when a large proportion of our own population in Great Britain can neither read nor write.

The great desideratum in native education is a thorough knowledge of the English tongue, which naturally is the first stone for any superstructure of more extended learning. This brings them within the reach of the missionary, not only in conversation, but it enables them to benefit by books, which are otherwise useless. It lessens the distance between the white man and the black, and an acquaintance with the English language engenders a taste for English habits. The first dawn of civilization commences with a knowledge of our language. The native immediately adopts some English customs and ideas, and drops a corresponding number of his own. In fact, he is a soil fit to work up on, instead of being a barren rock as. .h.i.therto, firm in his own ignorance and prejudices.

In the education of the rising native generation lies the hope of ultimate conversion. You may as well try to turn pitch into snow as to eradicate the dark stain of heathenism from the present race. Nothing can be done with them; they must be abandoned like the barren fig-tree, and the more attention bestowed upon the young shoots.

But, unfortunately, this is a popular error, and, like all such, one full of prejudice. Abandon the present race! Methinks I hear the cry from Exeter Hall. But the good people at home have no idea to what an extent they are at present, and always have been, abandoned. Where the children who can be educated with success are neglected at the present day, it may be imagined that the parents have been but little cared for; thus, in advocating their abandonment, it is simply proposing an extra amount of attention to be bestowed upon the next generation.

There are many large districts of Ceylon where no schools of any kind are established. In the Ouva country, which is one of the most populous, I have had applications from the natives, begging me to interest myself in obtaining some arrangement of the kind. Throngs of natives applied, describing the forlorn condition of their district, all being not only anxious to send their children to some place where they could learn free of expense, but offering to pay a weekly stipend in return. "They are growing up as ignorant as our young buffaloes,"

was a remark made by one of the headmen of the villages, and this within twelve miles of Newera Ellia.

Now, leaving out the question of policy in endeavoring to make the language of our own country the common tongue of a conquered colony, it must be admitted that, simply as a question of duty, it is inc.u.mbent upon the government to do all in its power for the moral advancement of the native population. It is known that the knowledge of our language is the first step necessary to this advancement, and nevertheless it is left undone; the population is therefore neglected.

I have already adverted to the useless system in the government schools of forcing a superabundant amount of knowledge into the children's brains, and thereby raising them above their position. A contrasting example of good common-sense education has recently been given by the Rev. Mr. Thurston (who is indefatigable in his profession) in the formulation of an industrial school at Colombo.

This is precisely the kind of education which is required; and it has already been attended with results most beneficial on its limited scale.

This school is conducted on the principle that the time of every boy shall not only be of service to himself, but shall likewise tend to the support of the establishment. The children are accordingly instructed in such pursuits as shall be the means of earning a livelihood in future years: some are taught a trade, others are employed in the cultivation of gardens, and subsequently in the preparation of a variety of produce. Among others, the preparation of tapioca from the root of the manioc has recently been attended with great success. In fact, they are engaged during their leisure hours in a variety of experiments, all of which tend to an industrial turn of mind, benefiting not only the lad and the school, but also the government, by preparing for the future men who will be serviceable and industrious in their station.

Here is a lesson for the government which, if carried out on an extensive scale, would work a greater change in the colony within the next twenty years than all the preaching of the last fifty.

Throughout Ceylon, in every district, there should be established one school upon this principle for every hundred boys, and a small tract of land granted to each. One should be attached to the botanical gardens at Peredenia, and instruction should be given to enable every school to perform its own experiments in agriculture. By this means, in the course of a few years we should secure an educated and useful population, in lieu of the present indolent and degraded race: an improved system of cultivation, new products, a variety of trades, and, in fact, a test of the capabilities of the country would be ensured, without risk to the government, and to the ultimate prosperity of the colony. Heathenism could not exist in such a state of affairs; it would die out. Minds exalted by education upon such a system would look with ridicule upon the vestiges of former idolatry, and the rocky idols would remain without a worshiper, while a new generation flocked to the Christian altar.

This is no visionary prospect. It has been satisfactorily proved that the road to conversion to Christianity is through knowledge, and this once attained, heathenism shrinks into the background. This knowledge can only be gained by the young when such schools are established as I have described.

Our missionaries should therefore devote their attention to this object, and cease to war against the impossibility of adult conversion.

If one-third of the enormous sums. .h.i.therto expended with little or no results upon missionary labor had been employed in the establishments as proposed, our colonies would now possess a Christian population.

But are our missionaries capable? Here commences another question, which again involves others in their turn, all of which, when answered, thoroughly explain the stationary, if not retrograde, position of the Protestant Church among the heathen.

What is the reader's conceived opinion of the duties and labors of a missionary in a heathen land? Does he, or does he not imagine, as he pays his subscription toward this object, that the devoted missionary quits his native sh.o.r.es, like one of the apostles of old, to fight the good fight? that he leaves all to follow "Him?" and that he wanders forth in his zeal to propagate the gospel, penetrating into remote parts, preaching to the natives, attending on the sick, living a life of hardship and self-denial?

It is a considerable drawback to this belief in missionary labor when it is known that the missionaries are not educated for the particular colonies to which they are sent; upon arrival, they are totally ignorant of the language of the natives, accordingly, they are perfectly useless for the purpose of "propagating the gospel among the heathen." Their mission should be that of instructing the young, and for this purpose they should first be instructed themselves.

I do not wish to throw a shade upon the efforts of missionary labor; I have no doubt that they use great exertions privately, which the public on the spot do not observe; but taking this for granted as the case, the total want of success in the result becomes the more deplorable. I have also no doubt that the missionaries penetrate into the most remote parts of Ceylon and preach the gospel. For many years I have traversed the wildernesses of Ceylon at all hours and at all seasons. I have met many strange things during my journeys, but I never recollect having met a missionary. The bishop of Colombo is the only man I know who travels out of the high road for this purpose; and he, both in this and many other respects, offers an example which few appear to follow.

Nevertheless, although Protestant missionaries are so rare in the jungles of the interior, and, if ever there, no vestige ever remains of such a visit, still, in spots where it might be least expected, may be seen the humble mud hut, surmounted by a cross, the certain trace of some persevering priest of the Roman faith. These men display an untiring zeal, and no point is too remote for their good offices.

Probably they are not so comfortable in their quarters in the towns as the Protestant missionaries, and thus they have less hesitation in leaving home.

The few converts that have been made are chiefly Roman Catholics, as among the confusion arising from our mult.i.tudinous sects and schisms the native is naturally bewildered. What with High Church, Low Church, Baptists, Wesleyans, Presbyterians, etc., etc., etc., the ignorant native is perfectly aghast at the variety of choice.

With the members of our Church in such a dislocated state, progression cannot be expected by simple attempts at conversion; even were the natives willing to embrace the true faith, they would have great difficulty in finding it amidst the crowd of adverse opinions. Without probing more deeply into these social wounds, I must take leave of the missionary labors in Ceylon, trusting that ere long the eyes of the government will be fixed upon the true light to guide the prosperity of the island by framing an ordinance for the liberal education of the people.

[1] [since reduced to five thousand pounds].

CHAPTER XII.

The Pearl Fishery--Desolation of the Coast--Harbor of Trincomalee--Fatal Attack by a Shark--Ferocious Crocodiles--Salt Monopoly--Salt Lakes--Method of Collection--Neglect of Ceylon Hides--Fish and Fishing--Primitive Tackle--Oysters and Penknives--A Night Bivouac for a Novice--No Dinner, but a Good Fire--Wild Yams and Consequences--The Elephants' Duel--A Hunting Hermitage--Bluebeard's last Hunt--The Leopard--Bluebeard's Death--Leopard Shot.

While fresh from the subject of government mismanagement, let us turn our eyes in the direction of one of those natural resources of wealth for which Ceylon has ever been renowned--the "pearl fishery." This was the goose which laid the golden egg, and Sir W. Horton, when governor of Ceylon, was the man who killed the goose.

Here was another fatal instance of the effects of a five years' term of governorship.

It was the last year of his term, and he wished to prove to the Colonial Office that "his talent" had not been laid up in a napkin, but that he had left the colony with an excess of income over expenditure.

To obtain this income he fished up all the oysters, ruined the fishery in consequence; and from that day to the present time it has been unproductive.

This is a serious loss of income to the colony, and great doubts are entertained as to the probability, of the oyster-banks ever recovering their fertility.

Nothing can exceed the desolation of the coast in the neighborhood of the pearl-banks. For many miles the sh.o.r.e is a barren waste of low sandy ground, covered for the most part with scrubby, th.o.r.n.y jungle, diversified by glades of stunted herbage. Not a hill is to be seen as far as the eye can reach. The tracks of all kind of game abound on the sandy path, with occasionally those of a naked foot, but seldom does a shoe imprint its civilized mark upon these lonely sh.o.r.es.

The whole of this district is one of the best in Ceylon for deer-shooting, which is a proof of its want of inhabitants. This has always been the case, even in the prosperous days of the pearl fishery.

So utterly worthless is the soil, that it remains in a state of nature, and its distance from Colombo (one hundred and fifty miles) keeps it in entire seclusion.

It is a difficult to conceive that any source of wealth should exist in such a locality. When standing on the parched sand, with the burning sun shining in pitiless might upon all around, the meagre gra.s.s burnt to a mere straw, the tangled bushes denuded of all verdure save a few shriveled leaves, the very insects seeking shelter from the rays, there is not a tree to throw a shadow, but a dancing haze of molten air hovers upon the ground, and the sea like a mirror reflects a glare, which makes the heat intolerable. And yet beneath the wave on this wild and desolate spot glitter those baubles that minister to man's vanity; and, as though in mockery of such pursuits, I have seen the bleached skulls of bygone pearl-seekers lying upon the sand, where they have rotted in view of the coveted treasures.

There is an appearance of ruin connected with everything in the neighborhood. Even in the good old times this coast was simply visited during the period for fishing. Temporary huts were erected for thousands of natives, who thronged to Ceylon from all parts of the East for the fascinating speculations of the pearl fishery. No sooner was the season over than every individual disappeared; the wind swept away the huts of sticks and leaves; and the only vestiges remaining of the recent population were the government stores and house at Arripo, like the bones of the carcase after the vultures had feasted and departed.

All relapsed at once into its usual state of desolation.

The government house was at one time a building of some little pretension, and from its style it bore the name of the "Doric." It is now, like everything else, in a state of lamentable decay. The honeycombed eighteen pounder, which was the signal gun of former years, is choked with drifting sand, and the air of misery about the place is indescribable.