When we settled at Fìhaònana in 1871 there were probably not more than 150, old and young together, in the whole district able to read, and we left over 3,000; so that if the only result of our work was that 3,000 had been taught to read the Word of God, and had been put in possession of it, our ten years in Madagascar were well spent. That was, however, but a very small portion of the work done in connexion with fifty village churches and schools with 2,600 children in them.

From 1874 to 1879 Madagascar was in a state of transition. A move had been made which necessitated progress on a more advanced scale, and in a more decided manner. One step had been taken out of heathen darkness and degradation into partial light. The people could not remain where they then were; they had either to go forward to higher and purer views of God’s truth and duty, or sink back into a dead formality with only a name to live, or even into the darkness and degradation of their former conditions. There was great need as there still is, for the prayer, ‘O send out Thy light and Thy truth!’

I was often asked by friends at home to send them some interesting facts and cases. I sent many facts such as are contained in these pages. With regard to the ‘cases’—for, as I understood the request, it was cases of conversion that were meant—I am sorry to say that during our first term of service we were not cheered by seeing or knowing of very many. Yet, notwithstanding our inability to see all in the way of conversion that we longed for, we had a firm conviction that the Kingdom of God was making decided progress, even if it was only in the way of preparing the ‘soil of the soul’ for the ‘seed of the Kingdom’ by educating and enlightening the minds of the people, especially of the young and rising generation, for the reception and understanding of God’s truth.

Our good friends at home were very apt to forget the wise words of Dr. Livingstone already quoted, that most of the soil had to be prepared for the seed, and that—no matter how efficient the sower, or how good the seed—then it has to be sown, and, considering the paucity of the sowers, a great harvest could not be looked for: time also was needed for the growth of the seed. But there need be no fear for the harvest. It will come in due time. Still, as we all know, it is not always when the fresh green wood is crackling and roaring under the boiler, and volumes of black smoke are curling out of the chimney, that the greatest heat is being raised or the most steam generated. It is rather when the fire is at white heat, and all the black smoke and noisy gases are gone. It is not always when there is most excitement and noise, and numbers of cases being reported, that most real and lasting good is being done; but rather when the work is done in quiet. And, though a stage of excitement may precede, it is by no means necessary.

The rains which refresh the baked and thirsty earth in Madagascar and renew the face of nature generally descend amid the roar of thunder and the flash of lightning; but the latter do no good to the soil, or to the growth of things: it is the rain which comes along with them, and especially the gentle rain that falls during the quiet of the night, that makes things grow.

Compared with such fields as New Guinea and the Congo, Madagascar has in some respects been the ‘Paradise’ of modern missions; but even in Madagascar large demands are made on the patience and perseverance and on the hopefulness of Christian missionaries; they cannot afford to grow weary and fearful, or faint-hearted as to results. They must be content to use the means and leave the results with God.

It is a great thing if they are allowed to dig out the foundations for the temple of the Lord, or even merely to prepare the soil for the seed, or sow the seed from which others shall reap. There is a danger of almost all missions of our day leaning a little too much on the past, and forgetting the many discouragements which preceded the missionary achievements which are now recorded on the pages of history. A wilderness had to be crossed before the promised land was reached. The Madagascar Mission might be, and perhaps is, in more danger of drawing on its past history than most missions, and might be excused a little if it did; but, if the spirit of its past history lives, it will continue to inspire fresh effort on the part of its missionaries of to-day, and on the part of those who have sent them there. With such a past as Madagascar presents there ought to be little danger of a ‘rest and be thankful’ policy being followed. Conquest alone has made foreign missions what they are, and only conquest—i. e. conversions—can sustain them.

The Malagasy, even the Hovas, have been raised by the Gospel from the depths of depravity to live lives of purity and peace, and from darkness and superstition to the light of the knowledge of the glory of God made visible in the face of Jesus Christ. They can hardly be called a demonstrative people in matters of affection or of religion, and yet, or perhaps because of that, their feelings with regard to both are often far deeper and stronger than many, who looking at them on the surface, would give them credit for.

CHAPTER XI
PROGRESS ALL ALONG THE LINE

‘The earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.’—Isaiah xi. 9.