Thirty years in Madagascar

by Thomas T. Matthews

The work has always suffered from its very success—suffered in depth from its vast extension, for it is hardly possible to have both depth and extension at the same time. It has also suffered somewhat, as was to be expected, from the imperfections of the native agents who had to be employed as pastors, local preachers, and evangelists. For while the majority of these did marvellously well, all things considered, and many of them were really gifted speakers, yet very few had had training of any kind or even much instruction. Most extravagant expectations were entertained of them and the work they could do, mainly because of their number and it seemed to have been quite forgotten how very recently they had emerged from heathenism.

Great mistakes have sometimes been made with regard to the Madagascar Mission. Many supposed that the burning of the idols in Imèrina meant that all the Malagasy had been converted, and some have still the idea that the whole of Madagascar—an island four times the size of England and Wales—has been Christianized. Yet, as a matter of fact, only about one million—out of five—of those in the central provinces have been reached. The burning of the idols, which was greatly overruled for the glory of God and the cause of Christianity in Madagascar, was indeed an event for which we have all the greatest reason to feel most profoundly thankful; but it by no means meant the conversion of all the Malagasy. And, notwithstanding all the good work done, two-thirds of the island is still in heathen darkness.

By burning the idols the Malagasy government simply assumed a new attitude towards Christianity and Christian civilization. The vast majority of the people in the central province of Imèrina and the adjacent districts and provinces followed the example set them by the queen and government; but they did so mainly from loyalty or fear, and not from any real heart-love for the Christian religion. Doubtless there were hundreds—I should like to believe there were thousands—who were actuated by higher and nobler motives, some by the very highest and holiest, and who rejoiced and sincerely thanked God for the change of policy which He, in His providence, had led the rulers of the land to initiate.

Still the fact remains that the movement was mainly a political one on the part of the majority of Her Majesty’s advisers, and could in no sense be truly and honestly called ‘the conversion of the Malagasy as a nation to God’ by any one who understood the real state of the case. The Malagasy as a people were not converted at the burning of the idols. They and their rulers took up a new position with regard to Christianity, and made it no longer a crime to worship God. As a result of this, there was a large influx into the existing churches of semi-heathenism, while some six hundred new ones were formed in the province of Imèrina alone within twelve months.

The news of the burning of the idols reached the Directors of the London Missionary Society in London about the middle of January, 1870, and they decided to reinforce the Madagascar Mission by four new missionaries. On January 17 I was asked if I would be one of the four, who were to sail the following month. I consented, and was told to go and prepare at once, as the vessel by which we were to sail was posted for February 26. I immediately set to work to get ready, and within a month was ordained and married, and had bought, packed, and sent off our outfit and stores, and said farewell to my friend James Gilmour and other friends. On the way to London, however, I had the misfortune to be struck down with typhoid fever, which detained us some six weeks longer in the country, so that it was not until April 6 that we sailed from Gravesend in the ‘Sea Breeze’ for Mauritius. I was in a very weak state when we left England, and did not derive much benefit from the voyage; consequently was not much stronger when we reached Mauritius.

We reached Mauritius on Sabbath evening, July 3, having been eighty-four days on the voyage from England; and we left Mauritius again for Madagascar on Saturday, July 9, reaching Tàmatàve on Thursday, July 14, and Antanànarìvo on Saturday, July 30, fully five months from the time we left home. As might be expected in the circumstances, my journey from the coast to the capital was far from comfortable. For there are pleasanter experiences than being jolted on the shoulders of four bearers for over 200 miles, in a very poor apology for even a Malagasy palanquin, while suffering from an acute attack of sciatica.

A RIVER SCENE AND A FOREST SCENE IN MADAGASCAR.

We spent our first Sabbath in Madagascar, on our way from the coast to the capital, at one of the mission stations of the Church Missionary Society, where we had a very quiet, comfortable day, although unfortunately the missionary was from home. We had met him on his way to Tàmatàve, when he expressed his regret at being unable to entertain us in person at his station, and most kindly gave us liberty to occupy his house, and to make use of all we wanted. We attended most interesting native services in the mission chapel. Our journey up country, through the great forest with its thousands of orchids and tree-ferns, over the thickly wooded mountains, up the great river, and across the plains and plateaus, had all the pleasures of novelty, while the songs of our men, as they paddled us up the rivers, added to our enjoyment.

The climbing over the mountain ranges was very fatiguing. It was the cold season, when the south-east winds prevail, which render the nights on the plateau of Imèrina most piercingly cold, and we found them growing much colder as we penetrated further into the interior. As we could not speak to our men, we had to leave them to proceed in their own fashion, and carry us when and where they pleased. They were all fond of long journeys; but unfortunately all did not travel at the same rate. The palanquin-bearers kept rushing on, so as to get up to the capital as soon as possible; while the porters with the bedding, boxes, and provisions followed more slowly. On two occasions we did not reach the village where we were to spend the night until long after dark. One night the porters with our beds and provisions did not overtake us at all, and in consequence we had to go supperless to such beds as we could make for ourselves under the circumstances, had a very wretched night, and had to start next morning—a very cold, drizzly one—without our usual cup of coffee. This, and the night of torment we had suffered from mosquitoes and the other insects for which Malagasy villages are notorious, did not tend to put us in a very happy frame of mind.