III.
FIRST EFFORTS IN CAIRO.
The year 1860 was one of sorrow and bereavement to Mary Whately. She lost first her youngest sister, then her mother. Under the strain of nursing and sorrow her own health was seriously affected, and she was ordered by the doctors to spend the winter in a warmer climate. Her thoughts recurred to Egypt and her former pleasant sojourn there; accordingly she selected Cairo as her residence, purposing in her heart to make an attempt to bring the Gospel within reach of the Moslem women and girls. Egypt was then very different from what it is now. Railways were but just beginning to make their appearance, the Suez Canal was not yet cut, European customs, now so prevalent, had scarcely begun to invade the age-long usages of the upper classes. English residents in Cairo and tourists up the river were alike few in number. Few outside influences had been brought to bear on the Mohammedan population to moderate their extreme bigotry and hatred of anything called Christian—a word which they invariably associated with the picture and image worship of the members of the Greek or Roman Church with whom they had come in contact, or with the irreligious pleasure-seeking of tourists, or travellers by the overland route to India. The Copts, or descendants of the early Egyptian Christians, were almost without exception buried in the profoundest ignorance of the Scriptures and of Christian truth, given over to superstitious beliefs and practices, and destitute of any real spiritual life. Education for boys was of the most primitive character; for girls it was never thought of, nor had any educational effort ever been made for them during the twelve centuries which had elapsed since the rise of Mohammedanism. Christian missionary operations were almost non-existent. The American Presbyterians had recently commenced missionary effort, but their work was mainly, as it still is, among the Copts, and they had not yet opened a station in Cairo. Since 1827 indeed the Church Missionary Society had maintained a missionary—sometimes two—in Cairo, but their work had not issued in the formation of a Protestant Christian Church.
"It was laid on my heart," says Mary Whately, "to try and do something for the girls and women of the land, especially those of the Moslem poorer classes, far the most numerous, of course. The only schools hitherto opened for the children of the land had no scholars except from the Copts or native Christians; others were considered quite out of reach, and many of my friends endeavoured to dissuade me from an attempt which was sure to end in failure, as they said. However, it seemed best to make an effort, at all events. But it was begun in prayer, and therefore difficulties and delays did not greatly discourage me." [l]
[Footnote 1: Life of Mary L. Whately, pp. 21, 25.]
Mary Whately, accompanied by a cousin, resided for a time with Mrs. Lieder, of the Church Missionary Society. But in order to open a school she had to engage a house for herself; and after great difficulties one was secured in a suitable position. It was but a comfortless abode, and only rude furniture and inefficient domestic help were obtainable. But Miss Whately held outward comforts in light regard. Even in later days, when she had built for herself a capacious and comfortable house, it was furnished in the simplest, even rudest fashion, and all her personal expenses were cut down to the lowest possible point, that she might have the more to spend the work to which she gave both her heart and her life. As as she was settled in her new house she endeavoured to make acquaintance of her neighbours.
Miss Whately was but just beginning to learn Arabic, and the only assistants she could get for starting her school were a Syrian matron—who could speak but a few words of English and read with difficulty the New Testament—and her daughter of thirteen. Accompanied by the Syrian matron, Miss Whately went out into the surrounding lanes and invited the women to send their little girls to her to be taught to read and sew. She met with many curt refusals and received many fallacious promises; but when at last, in February 1861, a start was made, nine little girls were present the first morning "No recruiting sergeant," she says, "was ever so pleased with a handful of future soldiers, for it was beating up for recruits for the Lord." [1] The numbers gradually increased, though from time to time they were seriously affected by the spreading of malicious reports and the opposition of bigoted relatives and the only way to keep up the attendance was to go round visiting to obtain recruits, and to cultivate an acquaintance with the parents of the old scholars. In three months the children had been reduced to some sort of order, taught the alphabet and the way to sew; they could repeat a few texts, and sing a few hymns with some approach to sweetness. But perhaps of more importance still, they had learned to love and obey their teacher. Before her return to England for the summer she took them for an early morning feast in the public gardens of Cairo: and when the simple repast was finished, while "the little ones danced and waved boughs in a perfect ecstacy of merriment," the elder girls, she says, "seemed to find no pleasure so great as following us about, pointing to the flowers, and frequently throwing their arms round us, exclaiming, 'I love thee! I love thee much!' with eyes really overflowing with affection. How often had it been said 'You can make nothing of Moslem girls!' but the key of love is wonderfully powerful, and equally so in every land in opening the doors of young hearts." [2]
[Footnote :1 Bagged Life in Egypt, new ed., p. 29.]
[Footnote :2 Ibid., p. 110.]
Meanwhile the beginnings of other Christian work had been made by Miss Whately. In the early mornings she would drive or ride a few miles out of the city, and seating herself near to some hamlet would enter into conversation with the women and girls, and seek to instil into their dark minds some drops of divine truth. Much of her time also was spent in visiting the poorer women of the city.
When, at the end of May, both the heat of the climate and family claims necessitated her return home, she placed her little school under the care of a teacher whom the Society for Promoting Female Education in the East provided.
The following winter was passed with some friends at Pau. After a trip to the north of Spain she spent another summer at home. In the autumn of 1862 she again arrived in Cairo, to re-open her school, which had for some time been suspended through the departure of the teacher. Many of her former scholars, hearing of her return, came to give her a very hearty greeting, and were willing to come back to school, bringing their younger sisters with them. They had, however, forgotten nearly all they had learned, and were at first very unruly. No assistance beyond that of an ignorant woman to help keep order and teach a little sewing was obtainable, while Miss Whately's still imperfect acquaintance with Arabic increased the difficulties which are everywhere experienced in the conduct of a ragged school. The younger children were especially difficult to deal with. The parents of the Mohammedan children objected to the use of pictures, being accustomed to see them the objects of reverence on the part of the Copts and other Eastern Christians, while the Coptic children were inclined to worship them. Amusing songs in Arabic, suitable for young children, there were none; and when a little marching about was attempted for the sake of variety, the mothers said, "We send our children to learn, and you teach them to play! If that is what they go to school for, they may as well be at home." [1] After a time a young woman was found who could do a little teaching. Miss Whately had to continue to give all the religious instruction herself. Yet, despite the many difficulties, the school was firmly established and continued to make slow but steady progress.
[Footnote 1: Among the Huts, p. 269.]
When her scholars were about to start for the "school-treat" to which reference has been made, a little boy, looking on with envious eyes, had exclaimed in a piteous voice, "I wish I were a girl." [1] "It was indeed a triumph," says Miss Whately, "to the little school that it caused an Egyptian boy even for a moment to wish himself a girl." Other boys had expressed their desire to come to school; so, as the 'girls' school did not meet on Sundays, Miss Whately started a Sunday class for boys. This was all it was possible for her to do by herself. But just at that time she became acquainted with one who, with other members of his family, was henceforth to be closely associated With all her work in Egypt. This was Mansoor Shakoor, a young Christian Syrian of good family and education, who, after working for some years as teacher and evangelist in Syria, had become agent in Cairo for the Moslem Mission Society, recently established in England. First of all Yousif Shakoor, brother of Mansoor, came to help her in work.[2] Later Mansoor also entered her employ, and she maintained both the brothers from her private resources. Thus she was provided with devoted and efficient helpers. Under their superintendence a regular school for boys was established, and when in 1863 she again returned to England she left the charge of all her work in their hands. On the 8th of October in that year Archbishop Whately died, and Mary Whately's Irish home being broken up, she determined henceforth to fix her permanent abode in Cairo. She now hired another house near to her own residence for the accommodation of the increasing schools.
[Footnote 1: Ragged Life in Egypt, new ed., p. 167.] [Footnote 2: Life of Mansoor Shakoor, pp. 58, 59.]
Very few English people can stand the intense heat of the Egyptian summer, and Mary Whately being disinclined in 1864 to come so far as to England, spent a short time instead in Syria. When she returned to Cairo she took with her to educate and train Fereedy Naseef, the young cousin and betrothed of Mansoor Shakoor. For this young girl there sprang up in Mary Whately's heart a deep and warm affection; she called her and treated her as her daughter, and both before and after her marriage in the summer of 1868 she resided under Miss Whately's roof. When in 1872 her husband died, she still remained, and Miss Whately shared with her the care and training of her young son and daughter, while she in return gave great assistance in the conduct and work of the mission.