CHAPTER VII

Getting into touch with the natives—The missionary’s style of life—Visiting and receiving visitors—Philanthropic work—Poor relief—School work—Medical work.

In Persia the missionary has no right to teach and preach in public places. He cannot take up his stand in the bazaars and proclaim the Gospel. He can talk to the people who come to his house, and to a certain extent he can talk with crowds in open caravanserais or in the villages, but anything approximating to public teaching is only done on sufferance, and without any established licence. So the ordinary evangelistic missionary’s first task is to get on terms of social intercourse with a sufficiently large number of natives to afford him a field for work. Afterwards he may arrange for services, either in his own house or in the house of some other European, and so his visitors will become congregations and his talks sermons.

[218]

Now, although it is obvious that such work can only be carried on when it is acceptable to the natives, the work may be accepted for very various reasons. If the missionary knows enough of the Persian language, of native ideas, and above all of the message he has come to deliver, he will, in a town like Yezd, without the help of school or medical work, attract a large number of people to his house. In Persia there is just now a great seeking after truth, which, though due in part to traceable causes, seems in its entirety to be simply one of those mysterious movements which God evokes at certain seasons in all lands for the furtherance of His Kingdom. One class attracted by such a man as I have described would therefore be real enquirers, and with them would be mixed a second class of people who have been called religious sightseers. These men though not apparently so good a field for work as the first class, would still, if properly handled and directed, prove a perfectly possible sphere for serious missionary operations. So also would the third class of callers, who would be men not primarily interested in religious questions at all, but who would nevertheless follow the fashion of calling on the newly-arrived foreigner,[219] and would be generally willing to follow any line of conversation that was agreeable to their host. Of course a man who did not intend to engage in school or medical work would naturally be careful to take full advantage of such contacts as these, and of others that he would naturally make from time to time; he would order his life in such a way as to get day by day into close touch with the people of the town; and he would equip himself with a material outfit that would enable him to exchange courtesies with natives of various classes. I am not speaking of a man who elected to spend most of his time itinerating in the villages: of such work as this I have little experience: but I am convinced that a stationary missionary, fairly well equipped at all points, does not in a town like Yezd absolutely need the help of more elaborate aids to enable him to get into touch with his work. To suppose this is to ignore the extraordinary preparation which God has made in Persia for the preaching of the Gospel.

Before passing on to the very real demand for missionaries of a somewhat different kind, it will be well to mention some points connected with the life of the European missionary in the[220] country. There are probably very few men or women at present working in Persia, who have not at the outset of their work felt doubtful whether the details of their household life could not be simplified, so as to bring them into closer touch with the poorer part of the population. It is hardly possible to write a serious book on missionary conditions without expressing an opinion on this question. There is, I think, no doubt that it is a great mistake for a missionary in Persia to be known as one who is leading the life of a wealthy man. It is considered by many of the enquirers to be absolutely inconsistent with Christianity, and I am not sure that this judgment is incorrect. Temporary advantages might sometimes be gained by such a reputation, but in the end the work would suffer.

Generally speaking, however, it is the habit of missionaries in the Persian stations to live as economically as is compatible with European style, so far as their strictly personal expenses are concerned. Many things which appear at first sight to be luxurious prove on closer acquaintance to be mere substitutes for the ordinary necessaries of the simplest English life. Other things prove to be absolutely essential to health[221] in a hot climate, while yet another class are not exactly necessary, but they are comforts of the cheapest kind. People who are economising seriously in Eastern lands have to put up with so much that is really difficult that they make a great mistake if they unnecessarily deny themselves small things which can be had for the asking, simply because they have regarded such things as luxuries in England. But although the existence of careful economies on European lines may be sufficient to prevent an intelligent enquirer from thinking that the missionary is untrue to his creed, such economies can never bring the missionary into touch with the poor of the East in the same way that living in a model lodging-house might under some circumstances bring a home clergyman into close touch with the English poor. The real analogy would be for the missionary to live as an Eastern dervish, or as a native of the artisan class, and although this might be sometimes helpful and advisable, the principle of its general advisability could not be accepted. To begin with, it would be only possible for a bachelor, and, in a country where no man can possibly give individual instruction to women, the bachelor is at a great disadvantage. Secondly, it must not be[222] forgotten that, although the missionary living the life of an European has been accepted in Persia, the missionary wearing Persian dress and living like a native has not yet been accepted, and would probably find himself not only at variance with the consular authorities but also regarded with a great deal of suspicion by the natives themselves. In a matter of this kind it is impossible to ignore apostolic precedent, and one thing that cannot but strike the student of the missionary methods of the period covered by the Acts of the Apostles is that the apostles generally, and notably St Paul, seem never to have adopted a method of missionary work which would have seemed to the inhabitants of the district to be outré, when some more natural method of work was equally possible. Nothing would strike the Persian as more outré than for the ordinary European to drop the form of life which is expected of the Ferangi, and to adopt the manners and customs of the native of Persia, particularly as he would probably have to periodically re-assume European clothes. If he was going to work among the Mussulmans as a Christian missionary, I suppose he would have to choose between life as an Armenian and life as a Mussulman. Life as an Armenian would have[223] this advantage over the other, that he would not be supposed to be hiding his religion. But the life of the Armenian in a town like Yezd is the life of a stranger in a foreign town, and would not bring the missionary into very much closer touch with the Mussulmans than life as a European. By assuming the dress and manners of an Armenian of any class whatsoever, one would simply forfeit the respect that is usually paid by the Persian to the Ferangi, without gaining anything that could not have been gained by other and more ordinary methods. On the other hand, life as a Mussulman would be attended with serious difficulties. In a town where there was a Ferangi colony wearing European dress, such a man would very possibly be regarded as a soldier is regarded who attempts to mix with the enemy without his uniform. I can conceive circumstances which might make an experiment of this kind worth trying, but it would be madness for any one to attempt it for missionary purposes, who had not extraordinary experience of the country and a full mastery over the language.

I think then we must take it for granted that the kind of life which missionaries are living in Persia at the present time will have to be accepted,[224] with such modifications as future events and further experience may suggest, as the normal method for Europeans who wish to carry on missionary work in the country. There are one or two tasks which lie before the pioneer missionary which seem to be made more easy by the possession of an ordinary European household. First of all, he has to be prepared to work amongst the European colony. Secondly, it is well for him to possess sufficient influence and standing in the town to be able to help the converts or enquirers in time of trouble. Thirdly, he wants to be in touch with all classes of natives, and this would probably only be possible for a man who stood in the highest rank as a native, or for one who stood outside native rank altogether.

Every missionary has to do a good deal of visiting. All visits have not got to be returned, but a certain number must be. It is well not to return all visits, for otherwise it is difficult to get secret enquirers to come to your house, or people who are too poor to receive you in their own houses. The usual Persian habit is never to pay a visit without first of all asking leave, but though this rule has to be observed towards others, it is best to make it clear that your own house is an[225] office, and only to insist on notice for visits of civility when they are made by people who are likely to prove awkward. Paying visits to Persian houses has a certain value to the missionary, as it introduces him to Persian life and manners, and puts him on easier terms with the natives, but it seldom affords the evangelistic missionary who is working amongst men his best opportunity for direct missionary work. There is too much publicity, and too many interruptions. The best missionary work is usually done on one’s own premises; and in Yezd I have known enquirers and visitors begin coming at six o’clock in the morning, and go on almost without intermission till ten o’clock at night; but at that time I was connected with scholastic work, which, although requiring only superintendence, advertised my presence in the town to a considerable degree. One of the things that is therefore most necessary in a place like Yezd for the evangelistic missionary is an absolutely well-ordered household. Everything ought to go by clockwork. Almost every visitor has to be treated as an ordinary social guest, and unless the arrangements are nearly perfect, either his attention or the missionary’s will be called away from the conversation. A[226] missionary in such a position ought to pay close attention to the number and description of his tea-cups and pipes. One class of visitors ought to be properly served with silver-mounted hookahs and three tiny cups of very hot tea, brought in at intervals of ten minutes, and this without any previous notice to the servant. Another class of visitor ought to have a European cup of tea holding about three times as much as the Persian cup, and a box of cigarettes, so that he and his host may be able to talk without further interruption till the end of the interview. A third class of visitor, who has given notice, ought to be prepared for beforehand, and served with iced sherbet. Then again, a decision has to be made according to the status of the guest as to whether the missionary shall be served with tea at the same time or not. All this requires the most careful training of servants, and any inattention to detail may produce an atmosphere which makes teaching exceedingly difficult. Further, the servants have to know who should be shown into a private room, and who can be allowed to mix with other guests. These are just a few of the minor points which are nevertheless of real importance. To come to points which are[227] obviously more serious. Servants have to be procured who can act with firmness when people attempt to take liberties, and who are at the same time absolutely civil. Servants in a Christian household have to be good-tempered; and in order to effect this they have to be kept well occupied without being overworked, in a house where the chief work is meeting emergencies. They have to be taught some consistent and systematic line that is to be observed in dealing with the countless beggars who every day come to your house. They have to be rendered as truthful as possible in every matter connected with the missionary’s business. They have to be paid a rate of wages which will make honesty and contentment possible, and which will neither spoil the market, nor be incompatible with reasonable economy. It is needless to say very much more about these matters; sufficient has already been said to make it plain that the problem of household arrangement is an exceedingly difficult one, particularly as the servants sleep in their own houses at a distance, all but one, who stays for the night; and they generally expect to go home for their mid-day meal. My own impression is that as the evangelistic missionary’s house is almost his parish, he[228] may be excused if he thinks right to expend a very great deal of time over its arrangements, and to consider this just as much missionary work as the teaching of enquirers. If the missionary intends to aim at anything that is likely to be satisfactory in this matter, he certainly needs an enormous degree of faith, and will do well to make his efforts in this direction the subject of very earnest prayer.

SCENES OF YEZDI LIFE.

The centre of these three pictures represents two men smoking opium. Behind them is a qalian, or hookah, for tobacco; in front is a sherbet bowl, and also a small tea-table with sweets underneath.

The picture on the left represents two men; one holding a rosary, and the other holding a hookah.

The single figure on the right is a Jew, with his book for divining. The Persians use the Jews as diviners a good deal.

Another difficulty in seeing enquirers in the house is the arrangement of times. Missionaries are sometimes blamed for not sufficiently consorting with Europeans in the ordinary amusements of the colony, but there is one great difficulty about this. The times when you naturally take exercise in the East are the times when the native artisan or shopkeeper is off work. Supposing that the evangelistic missionary is seldom at home at such times as these, the more industrious Persians get to regard him as inaccessible, and his enquirers begin to consist of people who for some reason or other have very little to do. It is hardly necessary to enter into the difficulties that may follow.

We have been hitherto speaking only of[229] directly evangelistic methods of missionary work; but almost all missionaries have something to do with philanthropic work also. These philanthropic efforts are not solely undertaken as means to an end. In most cases they are treated as an end in themselves by the missionary, and generally speaking they are things which could not well be left undone. Medical missionaries will tell you that their standing orders are to heal the sick and preach the Gospel; but I think we may say very much more generally that the presentation of the Gospel without adequate and proportionate care for the minds and bodies of those surrounding us, would be impossible. For the Gospel is the message of our Saviour, and any message that was so delivered would entirely fail to represent that Saviour’s attitude. I doubt whether any one would call in question this aspect of the case, but when we come to discuss how much philanthropic work is really necessary, we are face to face with a difficult problem. In matters like this the decision must depend not only upon the needs of the people with whom the missionaries are brought in contact, but also upon the nature of the church or congregation of Christians that supports them, and whose[230] material as well as spiritual force they are appointed to convey to the mission field. There is a great difference between the position of a band of men sent out by an infinitesimal body of earnest Christians who have the greatest difficulty in subscribing the means of their support, and that of a band sent out by an exceedingly wealthy Christian church.

Present-day missionaries sent out by the Church Missionary Society have passed outside the conditions of the first class, but they cannot be said to fully belong to the second. They are supported by a large number of people, but those who give most are generally those whose purses are least elastic. In the countries to which they go they are treated with the greatest courtesy by British officials, and accepted as representatives of the religion of England by their fellow-countrymen. Naturally the native expects more from them than they are really able to give, and this increases the difficulty when they have to decide what they are bound to do as ministers of Christ and as representatives of those who send them, for the people committed to their charge. Naturally, and I think rightly, they do not wholly shut their eyes to the attitude and[231] expectations of the natives. But, unfortunately, the Persians think that there ought to be no difficulty about anything. The average native cannot get out of his head the idea that we are sent by the Government, or, if not by the Government, by the whole nation under its religious authorities. Those who know anything of English thought and feeling realise that foreign missions are now well established in the popular regard in England, and many Yezdis have a confused notion that in our country education, medical attendance, and support in old age are free to everybody, irrespective of class, and that as Christians we are all anxious to extend this system as far as we can to other nations. Of course views like this are variable, but it may be seen after a moment’s consideration that in a country where the need for schools, for hospitals, and sometimes for relief is very real, and where the native is capable of believing such absurdities about the European as have been stated, if the missionary does not to a large extent take up the white man’s burden, he is likely to lose any influence which God may have given him. Consequently I think we may say that the philanthropic work of missionaries[232] in Persia must not only be regarded as a means to evangelisation, although this is an aspect which must largely determine its importance. Primarily it is a spiritual necessity created by three things, the comparative wealth of the Christians who send out the missionaries, the comparative poverty of the natives who are ready to be relieved, and the obvious commandment of Almighty God.

Philanthropic work in Yezd is of three kinds; medical work, school work, and the work of poor relief. The last is of course not recognised or supported by the Church Missionary Society. It is not within the scope of this book to deal with either of these three provinces of work in detail. All that I wish at present to explain is the way in which they seem to strike the Persian mind, and contribute to the general campaign of the mission.

Relief work is of all the three most absolutely necessitated by the essential difference between the circumstances of the missionary and his supporters on the one hand, and those of a certain section of the natives on the other. But from an evangelistic standpoint it is the least directly productive in effect; so we have never[233] in Yezd used for this purpose any funds not specially subscribed for it, and such money has been collected almost entirely from the resident Europeans. There is a very great deal of terrible poverty in Persia which is not touched by the native charities. In Yezd, particularly towards the end of our stay in the town, things were in a very bad way. Yezd is really an industrial town, and not less than half of the grain supply comes from outside, chiefly from the Shiraz district. Most of the people are silk weavers. The silkworms used to be reared in the Yezd district, but the extreme droughts rendered this source of supply very insecure, and after the great famine that occurred some years ago there were not sufficient trees left for the business to be continued in this way. Cocoons were then brought from Rasht, and this system proved more satisfactory till lately, when the Rasht cocoons were diverted to France and Italy. The natural result was a great deal of poverty in Yezd, which was most felt among the poor Jews, who since the famine year have had no looms but have devoted themselves to winding and spinning the silk. Then again, after the Babi massacre of 1903, something had to be[234] done for the large number of widows and orphans. In this work the Europeans were by no means alone, for the sufferers were helped both by the Babi merchants and also by a large number of the Parsis. The Parsis are generally very good in looking after their own poor, but the Mussulmans give money so indiscriminately that their charities cause more poverty than they relieve. Although the work of poor relief is not as a rule the direct means of bringing in converts, it helps the evangelistic work enormously by saving valuable time. Before it could be organised the number of begging enquirers who had the very smallest interest, if any, in the Gospel message, was so large as to seriously impede more important work. It is much easier and better to keep the two things more separate, and to be able to say to a man, “If you want to read with me, well and good, but if you want material help, then you must do so and so.” This does not necessarily mean that the man who is relieved gets no chance of hearing the Gospel. The Jews, who came in a body, used always to have a chapter of the Gospel read to them by my mirza, and any man who showed a disposition to come as a real enquirer after his case had been[235] looked into and relieved was thoroughly welcomed. But the practice of trying to earn a kran by wasting hours of the missionary’s time was effectually discouraged.

I think also that the practice of separating poor relief as much as possible from the work with enquirers helps to explain to the native our view of the Christian Church. That some explanation is necessary is undoubted. During a severe famine in Kirman, over two hundred respectable Mussulmans, chiefly shopkeepers, came into the courtyard of the Consulate, and wanted to take protection under the British flag. Major Phillott was then Consul, and they explained to him that the price of bread was so prohibitive that they could not live any longer under the regulations of the Persian officials. Their leader was a Seyid. Major Phillott tried to explain that, although he sympathised with them greatly, he could do nothing for them unless it was to give them pecuniary help. He offered them a hundred krans, but they explained that they were not beggars. They further said that they were quite ready to become Christians if they could only get cheap bread. The end of the whole business was that the Consul paid an[236] unofficial visit to the Governor, and got him to promise that bread should be lowered to a more or less normal price by gradual reductions spread over a period of ten days. It is easy to understand that people who could go to a Consul in a famine and ask to be accepted as Christians in order to be able to buy bread at a fair price, thinking I suppose that Consular pressure would then be brought to bear upon the Governor on their behalf, might easily get an absolutely wrong notion of what was going on, if circumstances forced the missionary whose general business was seeing enquirers to use funds for poor relief without carefully separating these two branches of work. Even the practice of giving occasional relief to very poor enquirers from one’s own purse is liable to great misinterpretation and abuse. Men will frequently come to you and ask for support, so as to enable them to leave their ordinary trades and listen to your teaching. Myself, I think that there are occasions when poor people have come from a distance and are certainly interested, where something of this kind has to be done, the man if possible being made to work for his money; but it is easy to see how extremely dangerous it would be to[237] encourage expectations, and how easily natives might get the idea that enquiry, and still more Christianity, entitled them to payment. Consequently, even if it could not be demonstrated that an actual saving of time was effected by making of poor relief a distinct organisation, there would be still a very great deal to be said for the practice.

To administer poor relief in a town like Yezd on anything approaching to a sound system necessitates a great deal of reliance upon native information, and also a certain amount of high-handed dealing. Any food or clothing given must be of a class only acceptable to the very poorest, for otherwise the candidates for relief would be too numerous to deal with in even the roughest fashion. These considerations will explain two things; first of all it will be readily understood that it is much easier to give systematic relief to members of a native community which is more or less down-trodden, such as the Jews or Babis; for although a certain number of mistakes will be made in dealing with these peoples, they will be much less resented, and will militate much less against the success of the whole effort. Secondly, it[238] will be obvious that such relief will not call forth very much gratitude from the recipients. The very fact of investigation gives the idea to the Persian mind that charity is given grudgingly. Also it is impossible to handle a hundred screaming women in a small compound without a certain amount of what appears to be stern dealing, and after all in most instances the relief given is not as much as we ourselves would like it to be. Added to this, most of the people receiving relief are under the impression that we are simply dispensing a small part of the large supplies sent to us for the purpose from abroad; and the Jews, of whom nearly a hundred families were receiving relief in Yezd last winter, believed that all that was given to them came from their co-religionists in Europe. The Babis of course looked upon the matter rather differently, but people who hold the theory of savabs in the way in which Persians do, have always a feeling that anything given to them means one for them and two for the giver. At the same time Persians who are interested in Christianity, and who are not themselves candidates for poor relief, see a great deal more in the system than do those who are[239] more intimately concerned with it. They often understand that the willingness to take trouble in localising need, and the absolute recklessness with which we incur as many curses as blessings in the performance of our work, points to an utterly different ideal from that which is accepted in Islam; and whether they are prepared to approve it or not, anything which shows the native part of the fundamental distinction between Islam and Christianity must in the end be of enormous assistance in missionary work.

School work in Yezd is very greatly appreciated by a somewhat limited class, but it means continual friction. The whole Mussulman clerical class as a body are keenly opposed to it. More curiously it aroused the greatest opposition from a small but not unimportant section of the Parsis. The Parsis are a puzzling people. For though they are strong, intelligent, thrifty, industrious, grateful, and comparatively honest, they seem to have a tendency to produce in their community a sufficient number of exceptionally disagreeable specimens of humanity to greatly check their natural progress. I myself believe that this is due to the prevalence of agnosticism amongst them, but, however that may be, the[240] result is that the Yezd community is always pestered by internal intrigues. I do not think that the opposition to my school was religious, for the dastūrs, that is the Zoroastrian priests, were always very friendly. I have always put it down rather to internal intrigue.

My school work was originally undertaken at the explicit request of the natives, and the boys came chiefly, but not wholly, from the upper classes. It would be difficult, and very questionably advisable, to start school work in a town like Yezd except under pressure from the natives. Even when the work has been forced on one, it is very difficult to maintain it. Not only is there still opposition from such quarters as I have mentioned, but it is only with the greatest difficulty that competent native assistance can be secured. If native assistance cannot be secured, the missionary who has work with enquirers will have difficulty in finding time even for short classes. Short classes may be the best thing under certain circumstances, but in a town like Yezd they do not meet the whole need. Boys are brought to you in Persia in most cases primarily to be taught English, but this demand for English is not the only requirement,[241] nor is it the only need that is felt by the Persians. Persians will frequently tell you that they bring their boys to you for education in the largest sense; but we made it a practice in Yezd only to accept boys who wished to learn English, and whose parents could show that the knowledge of English was likely to be of some use to them. Very frequently poor lads would come, under the impression that the town was going to be occupied by Europeans, and that all who had learnt English would get remunerative employment in Yezd. The only thing to do under such circumstances was to explain the true state of affairs, and then to insist on payment being made in advance for all books, and also upon the payment of a six months’ fee. The first argument was generally rather ineffectual, but supported by the second it always had the desired result. If it could be shown that a poor boy was likely to reap advantage from a knowledge of English, fees were always remitted, and in some cases books were provided.

The ordinary fees were very small, but had to be paid in advance for the half year. The education given comprised Persian subjects, arithmetic, English, and elementary geography.[242] The Bible was read in Persian, night and morning, and the boys were expected to be present during the Bible reading and prayers. Latterly the whole routine work was put into the hands of natives, but I paid as much attention not only to superintendence but also to conversational classes as my other engagements would allow. Naturally there was a great difference in the efficiency of the school at different times. At first it was with the greatest difficulty that the work could be carried on at all, and what I was able to do was of the most trivial character. In the end, owing to the excellent work done by my Armenian assistants, and by Mihraban, my Parsi mirza, the results were really excellent. On the whole, I think I may say that the confidence reposed in the school system by the natives, was greater than I could have expected, and in many things both boys and parents proved excessively forbearing.

THE SCHOOL.

This was drawn when the school was quite small.

The figure on the left sitting in a chair is Mesak, my first Armenian schoolmaster. I am on the right leaning against a desk. The thing in my hand is a pointer and not an instrument of punishment. There is a wall in front of me on which was hung the thing to which I was pointing. I should perhaps mention that the square fire-place coming forward into the room is not of a usual shape: fire-places are generally let into the wall. All the boys in this picture are Mussulmans.

In the matter of gratitude they showed discrimination, but the gratitude that was shown me by the pupils who stuck to the school for any time, and by their parents, was extraordinary. The lads themselves, both Parsi and Mussulman, were on the whole intelligent and teachable. I[243] had, however, very much greater success in dealing with them when I had not myself to undertake the routine work of the schoolmaster. Possibly this was due partially to my not being suited for such work, but I am inclined to think that in most cases elementary school work is not quite the proper field for the European missionary in Persia. There is perhaps no harm in the evangelistic missionary who has not yet perfected himself in the language devoting more of his time to it; but, considering the enormous value of the work from a spiritual point of view, there should be no difficulty in getting funds to employ extra native assistants where the European missionary feels himself in a position to organise and superintend a school for native boys. These remarks do not apply to schools for girls, for which properly qualified native teachers can only be found with the greatest difficulty. My feeling is that not only can the fully qualified European missionary be more usefully employed if his time is not too largely given up to school work, but also much of the actual work of the school is better done by natives under European management, and the influence of the missionary with the boys may be rather increased than checked[244] by his not having to teach them their ordinary lessons. It is, however, very difficult to separate what may be taken as a general principle in Persia from what was true of our particular circumstances in Yezd. I have before mentioned that I do not consider myself very fitted for ordinary school work.

In the boys’ school in Yezd we had at first a custom of never admitting a child until his father had been seen, and had thoroughly understood to what extent he would receive religious teaching. I used to pledge myself to teach nothing to the boy of Christian tradition apart from what could be found in the Kalāmu’llah, that is, the Word of God accepted by the Mohammedans, an expression which was thoroughly understood to include the whole of the Christian Bible. This may seem at first sight to have been merely a quibble, but it must not be forgotten in dealing with the Mussulman, that he is afraid of something like Romanism which will stand out in political as well as religious rivalry to Islam, and that he knows very little of the special tenets of Protestants. My assurance would at least have satisfied him that no attempt would be made to draw the boy into a foreign[245] politico-religious system. The fathers were also told that the boys would be expected to attend prayers. Latterly, as the school and its methods got better known, the necessity for these precautions disappeared. However, when boys at the school came to me, as they frequently did, and told me that they wished to know more about Christianity, I invariably insisted that their fathers or guardians should be informed before they received special instruction. Of course they were always free to come to the Sunday School, which was held for them by my Armenian assistant, and which was attended by a few boys from other schools as well, and occasionally by one or two men. Many of the boys also were extremely regular in their attendance at the services, which we held at first in our houses, and afterwards in a chapel which was built in the hospital.

Our school work in Yezd was in every way a thoroughly effective evangelistic agency. It brought me into touch with scores of adults who without it would never have entered my house. By increasing the general business with which I was surrounded, it also greatly facilitated my contact with those who came to me as regular[246] enquirers. All this was additional to the direct effects of the school work, which I have reason to believe were exceedingly satisfactory. Altogether school work proved in Yezd to be one of the most effective forms of missionary effort.

At the same time one or two things have to be borne in mind about it. First of all, it is extremely difficult for the evangelistic missionary to organise school work for the teaching of Persian subjects only that will successfully compete with the native schools. Further, the need for such work is not greatly felt by the natives. But the teaching of English is one of those things which missionaries are distinctly asked to undertake, and which they are able to undertake with great advantage. In a short time I have no doubt that industrial education will be an even more pressing need. The argument for schools as against classes is that their effect upon the moral character of the boys is much greater, and that the qualified missionary has by himself time for neither, unless indeed the classes are to be very short ones, and the staff that would be needed to properly undertake classes might just as well manage a school.

With regard to fees, it seems to me that[247] when assistants are employed fees should be charged; but to get fees that would really cover the expenses would be impossible, and I personally think that the lower the fee the more easy it is to enforce its payment, and to keep the arrangements of the school entirely in one’s own hands. This, however, is a matter over which there is plenty of room for difference of opinion. Of one thing I am certain, and that is that in the up-country towns educational work must begin amongst classes who can support the missionary against Persian intrigues and the direct opposition of the Mulla class. In starting a school in a Mussulman country the object of the missionary must always be to get the establishment regarded as a settled fact, consequently certain things which would otherwise be unimportant become matters of extreme moment. For instance, if anything should happen to the teaching staff, the school must be kept running, even if the pupils cannot under the circumstances make great progress. At one time I had to keep the school going when I was myself laid up in a sick room, and had no assistant capable of teaching much more than the primers. The day’s work for the first class was written out by my wife, and sent into the school[248] by a servant. However, the school survived, and some while later, when it was again properly staffed, we saw the effects of our persistence, for while the town was absolutely under mob law, the school was never without a certain number of boys attending at the regular hours. Again, when the position of the school is temporarily assured, nothing can be better than some sort of public Speech Day, which both advertises its existence, and makes people understand that you regard its permanence as a matter of course. The fact is that in Persia all opposition and persecution is spasmodic, and if you can manage to go your own way for a sufficient time and then take your position for granted, you will be allowed to do things which vastly exceed your recognised rights and liberties.

Medical mission work in Persia has been described by those who have been actively engaged in it. Under these circumstances I intend to speak very much less about it than I have done about other methods of work, though it is at least as important as any. It would be possible to divide the provinces of medical work in several ways, but it seems to me to be best treated under three heads: hospital work, dispensary work,[249] and medical visiting. The branch of medical work which is most obviously necessary, and also perhaps least productive of direct spiritual results is the work of the dispensary. A doctor settled in a Persian town is primarily expected to see all comers and to provide them with medicines. Indeed the Persian will come to the European for treatment whether he is a doctor or not. The business of the dispensary affords an excellent opportunity for giving an address on religious subjects, but comparatively little for systematic teaching of individuals, though contacts may be made during dispensary hours that may lead to further enquiry, and of course even systematic teaching can be given during dispensary hours by a determined worker.

Medical visiting is just what the missionary is able to make it. The over-worked doctor with more visits than he can pay in the day has to be content with a very occasional reading and a word here and there as opportunity offers; but there is no doubt that the opportunity is unique, and if time can be made during medical visits for more systematic spiritual teaching, such teaching is likely for several reasons to carry exceptional weight. Although perhaps medical[250] visits give a better opportunity to the doctor who wishes to himself follow up the work with religious teaching, dispensary work affords a much better opportunity for the bringing of other evangelists into such touch with the patients as will make it possible to find out any serious enquirers and to rouse others to further interest. The great difficulty in dispensary work and medical visiting, regarded as evangelistic agencies in Persia, is that the number of contacts is almost too large to handle. To begin with, the staff of missionaries is inadequate, and the difficulty is further increased by the peculiarities of the Persian, who in most cases is almost untouched by any teaching that is not systematic, and that does not go somewhat deeply into fundamentals. Of course these kinds of medical work produce more contacts than does anything else, but the difficulty in Persia is not to bring people within the hearing of the Gospels, but to convey to them something of the meaning of the Gospel. What makes the medical mission of the present time in Persia all-important is not that it is absolutely necessary for the purpose of bringing the evangelist into touch with the native, though in certain times and places it may be still greatly needed for this purpose; but the great[251] point is that it has often explained the meaning of Christ crucified to men and women who without it seemed unable to grasp the Christian idea. This I believe to be true of all branches of medical mission work that I have mentioned, but at the same time it must be owned that the branch which has hitherto proved most satisfactory as a direct evangelistic agency is that connected with the hospital. Nobody can speak too highly of the potentialities of hospital work in Persia. It is almost inconceivable what misunderstanding of the doctor’s attitude is possible in out-patient work in a Mussulman country. He is a bad man trying to work off his sins. He is sent out by the English Government at a high salary. He is making a very good profit out of the work. He is an instance of the subjection of the infidel to the Mussulman by the power of God. All these notions gradually die away under the systematic life and discipline of the hospital, with its atmosphere of trust and repose. Day by day men meet the doctor and his assistants and learn to know them; they see the quiet persistence of their kindness, and its penetration into the smallest detail; best of all, they hear the Word of God day by day brought into a[252] connected story and an intelligible system of salvation. In the best conducted hospitals the only misconception that is likely to remain is the belief that the missionaries as a body are trying to win a high place in Heaven by savabs. This dies very hard, and all we can say is that the hospital system, perhaps partly by its more definite discipline, tends to eradicate it. It is true that some workers have produced similar results by importing the atmosphere of Christian hospital work into the medical visit or the dispensary; but the point to be noted is that what is natural in the Christian hospital has in other forms of medical work to be deliberately and persistently fostered. In these if the highest spiritual results are to be obtained, there must be on the part of the worker a determination rather to guide the organisation towards them, than to depend on its essential qualities as a missionary force. It is not that hospital equipment is an essential for a doctor who wants to preach the Gospel, but no matter what a missionary may be, clergyman, lay evangelist, or medical, it is only by getting into close touch with the native, and by systematic and persevering teaching, that he can expect to extend Christ’s Kingdom in Persian towns.

[253]

Of course the position of the medical missionary who is invited to the town by those in authority, as is frequently the case, is very different from that of most other missionaries. There may be a real demand for school teaching, but even when school work has been started and placed on a satisfactory footing, it never appeals so generally to the interest of all classes as to be superior to any intrigue that may arise, or to bursts of fanatical bigotry. At the same time the medical missionary who has gone to a new station finds that even when invited he is on trial. When free medicines are given, as on some occasions they have been for a short period, two-thirds of the people throw them away without using them. Even those who have invited him are quite ready to turn against him, at any rate behind his back. These difficulties, although real, are minor ones, and there are very few European doctors, possessed of an ordinary amount of common-sense and a good material equipment, who cannot get over them in a short while. The real danger is lest the missionary by regarding these difficulties as more serious than they really are should become too absorbed in his efforts to overcome them. Medical work[254] is really an enormous power. It may make possible, under God’s providence, steps and measures which would otherwise be utterly impossible. But if it is to be fully used to God’s glory, these God-given powers must be realised, and put forth to their full extent.

Medical and school work have one other advantage besides those that have been mentioned, for they enable a class of men to participate in mission work who as ordinary evangelistic missionaries would be useless. In the first place, there is the newly-arrived European, who imperfectly understands the language, and who yet may do more or less effective work while he is still studying, if he is connected with a medical or educational organisation. Secondly, if it were not for schools and medical work it would be exceedingly difficult for the Persian missions to employ natives, except in menial capacities or in positions attended with the gravest peril. Here to my mind we have one of the greatest arguments for medical and school work, and this from the directly evangelistic standpoint.

This brings the subject of methods of work in Persian towns like Yezd to a conclusion. It[255] is not impossible to work as a simple evangelist, but it needs certain qualifications and abilities. Generally speaking, the ordinary missionary must be prepared to use both hands and both feet, and to enter in whatever way seems most expedient into the life of the town. There is no room for university work, and technical instruction has not yet been tried, but elementary school work and medical work are both much needed and much appreciated, and they further afford an abundant field for directly evangelistic labour.