ELDER NĀN SUWAN
The governor was a warm friend of mine, and was urgent that we establish a mission and a church there before Buddhist temples could be built. The province was virgin soil. A great mortality usually attends the repeopling of deserted places and the clearing of the land. The governor was very anxious that we should send a physician. Had we gone then with five hundred ounces of quinine, we should have had command of the situation. As it was, Nān Suwan was furnished with some quinine, which gave him the name of doctor. Broad-minded, hospitable, kindly, and thoroughly upright, there could have been no better selection. He became the real father of the Chieng Sên church. His family was a light in the city. His youngest daughter, Kūi Kêo, one of Mrs. McGilvary’s first pupils, taught most of the early Christians there to read the Scriptures in Siamese. The elder himself became a great favourite with the governor, who used to say that the fact of his being governor, and, therefore, under authority, alone prevented him from uniting with the church. Another of the returning captives was Sên Yā Wichai, the first believer in Chiengmai. He settled on the western border of the Chieng Sên plain.
The Lāo as a race have been in bondage to the spirits. We have already had frequent occasion to refer to the slavish fear of them among all classes, from the highest to the lowest. No event in life, from birth to the last offices for the dead, could be undertaken without consulting or appeasing the presiding spirits of the clan, the household, or the country. Their anger is the fruitful cause of every disease and calamity that flesh is heir to.
In many ways this would seem a less elevating and ennobling cult than pure Buddhism. But really it has a much closer affinity with Christianity than has Buddhism, whether as scientifically held by the learned, or as embraced by the common people. Buddhism is too atheistic to bring it into comparison here with Christianity. It lacks the essential attribute of religion—a sense of dependence on some higher power. It belongs to a different order of thought. The spirit-cult, on the other hand, does recognize invisible powers whose goodwill or illwill brings prosperity or adversity. From this to one Great Spirit, who is sovereign over all, is but another step on the same line of ascent. So their spirit-offerings come nearer the idea of propitiation than do the offerings of Buddhism, which in some quite unaccountable manner are supposed to bring merit to the offerer.
A belief in witchcraft—that is, in the temporary or permanent residence of some evil spirit in men—has been confined to no one age or race. Its predominance among the northern Tai tribes is very remarkable in view of its inconsistency with Buddhism, which has long been the religion of the race. In the contest for supremacy, the spirit-cult, while it has not superseded Buddhism, has secured the stronger hold on the people. They worship Buddha and make offerings in his temples; but they fear and dread the power of the spirits to inflict present evil. It is safer to neglect Buddha than these. And the power of a malicious spirit is most dreaded when it has taken up its abode in a human habitation.
From the time of our first arrival in Chiengmai we were continually amazed to find what multitudes of people had been driven from their homes for supposed witchcraft. All the northern provinces and towns, as has already been mentioned, were largely peopled by that unfortunate class. Accusation of witchcraft had become one of the most dreaded means of oppression and persecution. It was a favourite way of getting rid of an envied rival or of a disagreeable neighbour. No family and no rank were safe from such attack. Princes, even, had fallen under its ban. When once the suspicion of witchcraft was well started, the individual or the family was doomed. Our sympathies had often been aroused in behalf of these unfortunates; but no favourable opportunity had occurred for interference in any other way than by our teaching.
Finally, in August, 1878, the opportunity came. I had a request from a prince of some wealth and standing, that I would take under our protection Pā Sêng Bun and her family, accused of witchcraft. The woman was first the under-wife of the Prince’s deceased father, who was a man of note in his day. She had two fine boys by a subsequent husband, and a niece nearly grown. This second husband was a widower, whose former wife was suspected of dealing in the occult art; and the theory was that the evil spirit came into her family through these sons. In that season of heavy rains and flooded streams, the whole family was to be driven off—some of them surely to die on the way. The patron said that he was helpless; that no one in the land, unless it were ourselves, could shield them from that fate. I told him that we were perfectly willing to risk the anger of the spirits, only we did not wish unnecessarily to offend the prejudices of the people. He was willing to assume all legal responsibility; for the rest, we might fight it out with the spirits as we pleased. After notifying the Siamese Commissioner of the situation, we brought the family to our place.
That very day their house was burned down; and not a tree or bush was left standing on the premises to furnish shelter to the spirits. But that did not stop the clamour. There was then in their village a great epidemic of fever. By common consent it was agreed that this had been caused by the evil spirit resident in the lads. With boyish curiosity they had twice or thrice gone back to visit the site of their old home, and, strange to say, after each visit a new case of sickness had occurred, which was, of course, attributed to their presence. It was vain to point out the utter ridiculousness of the idea, or to show that no sickness had occurred on our place since their arrival. That was easily explained. The spirit was afraid of our God, and did not dare to enter the premises. It took refuge in a large tree outside till the boys came out again, when it entered its former habitation and went with them.