While occasional irregularities appeared in different places, there were not half so many as I expected. As a whole the churches were in a marvellous condition, considering the scanty opportunities they had enjoyed of being instructed in the things that pertain to the Kingdom of God. If they made mistakes, which of course sometimes happened, it was almost always solely from want of knowledge. If they knew what ought to be done, they generally did it. I fancy this is more than can be said of some church members at home. I may also add that grave mistakes were few—so few, indeed, that one was reminded of the words: ‘They shall be all taught of God.’
If anything of a really difficult nature cropped up they usually sent on to Fìhàonana to ask my advice; and before our settlement there they sought guidance from the capital. Repeatedly I had to crush the idea that I was the head of the churches, and that what I said must be regarded as law. I always tried to impress upon them that I was in no sense a supreme authority, but only one of their teachers, and that the assembled pastors of the district should settle the questions which arose, e.g. whether a church was needed or not, and what was the best site on which to build. For they knew the district and people and their needs better than I could, and were quite capable of deciding such matters. Then again, I thought it wise to leave everything the Malagasy could do for themselves in their own hands, that they might learn self-reliance.
Missionaries for the most part should merely stand behind the scenes and prompt their people in the right direction, and then, as far as possible, allow them to act for themselves. It is essential to the best interests of Christianity that the assembled pastors of the churches in any district should decide how many churches should be formed in that district; otherwise every tiny village might set up a church, although it had only six huts, and whenever one petty chief fell out with another each would cause his people to build a church in his own village, of which he would probably be appointed pastor, even if there were but twenty people, and half of these twenty children. This sort of thing was done repeatedly in certain districts.
I must content myself with sketching the broadest outlines of my work, giving glimpses of certain parts merely, the general facts connected with the whole; for there were many matters that occupied my time and attention during those earlier years which cannot be embodied in a short account like this.
The people were most grateful for all I could do for them medically, although they entertained most absurd notions, and had absolute faith in my power to cure all little ills that flesh is heir to. I was often at my wits’ end, and did not know what means to use—a state of mind which generally ended in making an experiment upon them, and giving what I hoped would do them good. When they returned to tell me that they were cured, and thank me for it, I often wondered whether it was the medicine, or their faith, or old dame Nature herself that had cured them—and if she would not have done it, even if they had taken no medicine at all.
I was perplexed for some time, by their always asking me, when medicine was given, if they ought to fast, until I discovered that the old idol priests and sorcerers were doctors, of a kind, and that their general prescription (and I am inclined to think their best) was fasting, especially from pork. The Malagasy often made themselves ill by overeating. It seemed as if the people reasoned somewhat in this way: If the old idol-keepers, priests, and sorcerers could cure some diseases, the teachers of the true religion must be able to cure all. Be that as it may, a small service to the body gave great influence over the minds of these people.
The vast majority suffer from the effects of poisoned blood, due to hereditary taint or vicious habits. As a consequence, hundreds of innocent infants perish; precious lives ebb away before their time; disease is fostered; and deterioration—physical, mental, and moral—is spread throughout the entire community.
Bookselling took up much time also, until a colporteur was found. I sold about £30 worth of books during our first year at Fìhàonana; but to the Malagasy that really represented what £150 does to us.
THE PALACE CHURCH, ANTANANARIVO.