From Far Formosa. The island, its people and missions ... Edited by J. A. Macdonald, etc

Front matter

FROM FAR FORMOSA Dr. MacKay, Mrs. MacKay and Family FROM FAR FORMOSA Ube flslanD, its people anD /HMsstons BY GEORGE LESLIE MACKAY, D.D. TWENTY-THREE YEARS A MISSIONARY IN FORMOSA EDITED BY THE REV. J. A. MACDONALD WITH PORTRAITS, ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS ♦ Edinburgh and London OL1PHANT ANDERSON & FERRIER Entered at Stationer's Hall. All Rights reserved. THE CAXTON PRESS NE# YOSX FORMOSA, at one time far off, has been brought near to the Western world. All eyes were turned upon it when it became the storm-center of the China-Japan War. But there were those who had been looking across the seas to the Beau tiful Isle for more than twenty years before the war-cloud darkened the sky. They were interested in its fortunes because of one who had given himself, with Pauline faith and self renunciation, that it might be redeemed from error and sin.

George Leslie MacKay has long been the missionary hero of the Presbyterian Church in Canada. During his second furlough, which closed when he sailed from Vancouver on October 1 6, 1895, Dr. MacKay was elected moderator of the General Assembly of his church, and visited many points throughout the Dominion, in the United States, and in Scotland, addressing congregations and conventions. Everywhere and on all occasions the impression made was that of a great man and a hero. The demand for a fuller record of his life and work became increasingly urgent. Friends who knew that his information about Formosa was more extensive and more reliable than that of any other living man, and who believed that an account of his experiences and work would stimulate the faith and zeal of the church, but who feared lest, amid the uncertainties and perils to which his life is constantly exposed, his career should be cut short before any record that might be given to the public had been prepared, impressed upon him the duty of meeting this reasonable demand.

To a man of his ardent temperament and active habits prolonged literary work is the most irksome drudgery. He would rather face a heathen mob than write a chapter for a book. But con vinced of its importance, he undertook the task, receiving valuable assistance from the Rev. W. S. McTavish, B.D. For weeks together he did little else than ransack note-books and journals, and explore the stores of his capacious memory. A few months ago Dr. MacKay put into my hands a mass of literary material — notes, observations, extracts from diaries and reports, studies in science, fragments of description, sketches of character — and laid upon me the responsibility of organizing this material into form and life. This responsibility was increased rather than diminished by the very full editorial powers allowed me.

Chapter I Early Years Of The Author

Point of view — Ancestors — Life in Zorra — William C Burns — Homemissionary service FAR Formosa is dear to my heart. On that island the best of my years have been spent. There the interest of my life has been centered. I love to look up to its lofty peaks, down into its yawning chasms, and away out on its surging sea. I love its dark-skinned people — Chinese, Pepohoan, and savage — among whom I have gone these twenty-three years, preaching the gospel of Jesus. To serve them in the gospel I would gladly, a thousand times over, give up my life. Be fore what I now write has been read I will have set my face once more westward toward the far East, and by God's good hand will have reached again my beloved Formosan home beyond the Pacific Sea. There I hope to spend what remains of my life, and when my day of service is over I should like to find a resting-place within sound of its surf and under the shade of its waving bamboo.

I love my island home, but not once in all these years have I forgotten the land of my childhood or ceased to be proud of it. Many a time in those first friendless days, when tongues were strange and hearts were hard and the mob howled loud est in the street ; many a time among cruel savages in the mountains, when their orgies rose wildest into the night; many a time alone in the awful silence of primeval forests, in solitudes never before disturbed by a white man's tread — many, many a time during these three and twenty years have I looked back from far Formosa, in fancy gazed on my Zorra home, and joined in the morning or evening psalm. Memo ries of Canada were sweet to me then ; and now, when I come to tell something of life in that far-off isle, the view-point I take is life in the land of my birth.

My father, George MacKay, a Scottish Highlander, with his wife, Helen Sutherland, emigrated from Sutherlandshire to Canada in 1830. There had been dark days in Scotland — the dark and gloomy days of the " Sutherlandshire Clear ances," when hundreds of tenant-farmers, whose fathers were born on the estate and shed their blood for its duke, were with their wives and families evicted, the wild notes of their pibroch among the hills and the solemn strains of their Gaelic psalms in the glens giving place to the bleating of the sheep and the hallo of the huntsman. Ruined cottages, deserted churches, and desecrated graves were the " gloomy memories " they carried with them from Scotland, and they crossed the sea in time to face the dark and stormy days of the Canadian rebellion. They made their home in what was then the wilds of Upper Canada, and on their farm in the township of Zorra reared their family of six children, of whom I was the young est ; and in the burying-ground beside the " old log church " their weary bodies rest.

Peace to the honored dust of those brave pioneers! They were cast in nature's sternest mold, but were men of heroic soul. Little of this world's goods did they possess. All day long their axes rang in the forests, and at night the smoke of EARLY YEARS OF THE AUTHOR 15 burning log-heaps hung over their humble homes. But they overcame. The wilderness and the solitary place have indeed been made glad. And more. They did more than hew down forests, construct roads, erect homes, and transform sluggish swamps into fields of brown and gold. They worshiped and served the eternal God, taught their children to read the Bible and believe it, listen to conscience and obey it, observe the Sabbath and love it, and to honor and reverence the office of the gospel ministry. Their theology may have been narrow, but it was deep and high.

They left a heritage of truth, and their memory is still an inspiration. Their children have risen up to bless them in the gates. From the homes of the con gregation that worshiped in the " old log church " at least thirty-eight young men have gone forth to be heralds of the cross in the ministry of the Presbyterian Church. In such a home and amid such surroundings I was born on the 2 ist of March, 1844. That was the year of the disruption in Canada, and the Zorra congregation, with the Rev. Donald McKenzie, its minister, joined the Free Church. The type of religious life was distinctly Highland. Men believed and felt, but seldom spoke about their own deeper personal spiritual experiences. There were no Sabbath-schools or Christian Endeavor Societies in Zorra fifty years ago. Children were taught the Bible and the Shorter Catechism in the home, and on the Sabbath in the church the great doctrines of grace were preached with faithfulness and power.

Men may talk slightingly to-day about that "stern old Calvinism." They would do well to pause and ask about its fruits. What other creed has so swept the whole field of life with the dread artil lery of truth, and made men unflinchingly loyal to conscience and tremorless save in the presence of God? The iron of Calvinism is needed to-day in the blood of the church. It may be we heard much about sin and law in those olden days, but love and grace were not obscured. It may be the FROM FAR FORMOSA children were reticent and backward in the church, but they knew what secret sorrow for sin meant, and they found comfort at the cross. Before I reached the age of ten the ever-blessed Name was sweet and sacred in my ear. The paraphrase beginning with the words " While humble shepherds watched their flocks In Bethlehem's plains by night," repeated at my mother's knee in the quiet of the Sabbath evening, early made a deep impression on my soul.

It was then that the thought of being a missionary first came. "Wil liam C. Burns had visited Woodstock and Zorra on his tours through Canada, and poured a new stream into the current of religious life. His name was cherished in the home, and something of his spirit touched my boyish heart. My grand father fought at Waterloo ; his martial soul went into my blood ; and when once I owned the Saviour King, the com mand, " Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature," made me a soldier of the cross. To be a missionary became the passion of my life. That was the dominant idea through all the years during which I served as school-teacher at Maplewood and Maitlandville, as scholar at Woodstock and Omemee grammar-schools, as student of arts in Toronto, and as student-missionary during the summer va cations at Blue Mountain, Port Burwell and Vienna, Lucan and Biddulph, Forest and MacKay.

A quarter of a century has passed since I served the church in those struggling home mission fields. The greater part of that time I have been far hence among the heathen, and am called a foreign missionary. But not now — not once in all these years — have I thought the foreign claims superior to the home, or honored the foreign missionary above his equally heroic and equally faithful brother who toils in the obscurity of a broken-down village, in the darkness of ultramontane EARLY YEARS OF THE AUTHOR 17 Quebec, or amid the pioneer hardships of the newer settlements in Canada. It is not for me — it is not for any foreign missionary — to look loftily on the ministry at home, or think of them as less loyal, unselfish, and true. We are all missionaries, the sent ones of the King, and not our fields, but our faithfulness, matters. Many of the church's first may be last when the Master comes.

Chapter II At Princeton And Edinburgh

At Princeton Seminary — Offer for foreign service— Under Dr. Duff in Edinburgh — In the Scottish Highlands — Accepted by the General Assembly — Visiting the churches HAVING completed my preparatory studies in Toronto, I went to Princeton early in September, 1867, and was enrolled as a student in the Theological Seminary there. The three years spent in that historic institution were full of interest and inspiration. All the professors were able, zealous, and devoted men. Dr. Green, the Hebraist, was vigorous and penetrating. Dr. James McCosh, of the college, lectured every Lord's day on the life of Christ, with characteristic energy and power. But it was Dr. Charles Hodge who most deeply impressed himself on my heart and life. Princeton men all loved him. No others knew his real worth. Not in his monumental work on systematic theology can Charles Hodge be best seen ; but in the class-room, or in the oratory at the Sabbath afternoon conference.

There you saw the real man and felt his power. Can any Princeton man forget those sacred hours? How that charming face would brighten and those large luminous eyes grow soft and tender with the light of love ! How awed we sometimes were when that trembling hand came down on the desk and those lips quivered with a strange and holy speech ! To look in on a Princeton class in those days would be to see what a well-founded reverence meant. On Tuesday, April 26, 1870, I was graduated, having com pleted the full curriculum of the seminary. It was a memorable day. According to the old Princeton custom, the pro fessors and the graduating class met on the campus. The graduates threw their prized diplomas on the ground, and with the professors formed a ring, joining crossed hands. We sang " From Greenland's icy mountains " and " Blest be the tie that binds."

Dr. Charles Hodge stepped into the circle. There was a tremor in his voice as he prayed for us all and lifted his hands in benediction. What a benediction! His eyes were moist as he said good-by. We parted in tears. The class of '70 was soon scattered. That night I was on my way to Canada. The summer of 1870 I spent within the Presbytery of Toronto, laboring in the mission stations of Newmarket and Mount Albert. The Rev. Professor MacLaren, D.D., at that time minister in Ottawa, was convener of the Foreign Mission Committee. To him I stated my desire to go abroad as a missionary. He encouraged me, and invited me to meet the committee early in October. I have never forgotten that meeting. It was not very hopeful or enthusiastic. It was a new experience for the committee. They scarcely knew what to do with a candidate for foreign work.

When I formally offered my services to the Presbyterian Church, and asked to be sent as a missionary to the heathen, one member looked me in the face and said, " Mr. MacKay, you had better wait a few years." Another argued for delay : " As he is going to Scotland, let him go, and on his return we can think over the matter for a year or two." A third suggested Madagascar as a field for future consideration. The convener pleaded for immediate acceptance and appointment. I was told, however, that the subject would be considered and the decision made known to me in due time. A fortnight later I found myself on board the steamship "Austrian," of the Allan line, en route from Quebec to Liver pool. Money was scarce, and I was content with steerage passage. It was dismal enough at best, but I was a novice and unprovided for.

The dreariness of the voyage was somewhat relieved by a burly Englishman who entertained his fellows in the steerage and found expression for his loyal soul in a song about King George, which he sang regularly every night, and danced his own accompaniment. From Liverpool to Glasgow was a sickening run, on a coaster called " Penguin," with a drunken crew and carousing passengers. In Glasgow I spent a delightful hour with the great Dr. Patrick Fairbairn. Two days later, November 4th, I arrived in Edin burgh. That was my destination, and to meet one man there I had crossed the Atlantic. That man was the venerable missionary hero, Dr. Alexander Duff. The story of his life had already fired my soul, and when I met him I was not disappointed. I was a young man, unknown and poor ; but when he learned the purpose of my life, and that I had crossed the sea to sit at his feet, his welcome was that of a warm-hearted, godly Highlander.

While in Edinburgh I took a postgraduate course, hearing lectures from Professor John Stuart Blackie in the university, and from Drs. Smeaton, Blaikie, Rainy, and Duff, in New College. Dr. Duff was professor of evangelistic theology, and under his supervision I studied Brahmanism and Buddhism, and learned Hindustani with Mr. Johnston of the Edinburgh Institution, having in view the India mission field. Dr. Duff's lectures were rich in matter and glowing with holy fire. At times he grew animated, threw off his gown, and gave his Celtic nature vent. He was specially kind to me. I spent many hours with him in his private room and at his home. I well remember the evening he showed me the Bible recovered after his shipwreck off the coast of Africa. It was doubly holy in my eyes. I saw him for the last time on March 13, 1 87 1.

He had gone to Aberdeen to deliver a course of lectures to the students in the Free Church College. Early in March I followed, and the first day occupied a seat in his class near the door. His unfailing kindness again was shown, and his cordial words of introduction to the students secured for me a hearty welcome : " Gentlemen, here is my friend from Canada, bound for a heathen land. Show him that there are loving hearts in the ' Granite City.' " A few days afterward, at the close of his lecture, he walked down Union Street with me. When near the Queen's Monument he stood still, looked me in the face, grasped my hand tightly in both of his, spoke words too kind and sacred to be repeated, wheeled about, and was gone. Heroic Duff! Let Scotland and India and the churches of Christendom bear testimony to the loftiness of thy spirit, the consuming energy of thy zeal, the noble heroism of thy service.

There were great preachers in Edinburgh, under whom it was a delight to sit. Who could forget Candlish or Guthrie? Arnot was there then, and Lindsay Alexander, Cairns, Mac- Gregor, and Alexander Whyte. With Candlish and Guthrie I became personally acquainted — both truly great men, but how very different! At Candlish's home I sat with him for well-nigh two hours, until the bell rang for dinner. He paced the floor all the while. Sometimes he would turn sharply and ask about something in Canada. Then, running his left hand through his long, unkempt hair, he would take a few more rapid rounds. It was not altogether reassuring to a backward young man. Guthrie, again, was the soul of geniality. His family was with him in the room, and at his side his favorite little dog. He sat in an easy-chair with his long legs stretched out, bubbling over with humor.

That winter in Edinburgh gave me experience in city mission work, and with other students I labored among the submerged outcasts in the Cowgate and Grassmarket. Like every man who claims to have Scottish blood, I came to love the famous old city, with its castle, cathedral, and palace, its historic scenes and thousand cherished memories. I was proud then of being in Edinburgh, and although I have since twice circled the globe, not in Orient or Occident have I seen a city to compare with " Scotia's darling seat." After the close of the colleges in March, I went north to Sutherlandshire, the land of my forefathers, spending the time chiefly at Dornoch, Tain, Golspie, and Rogart. The question of my life-work now became pressing. No word had come from Canada, and I began to despair of service in connection with the Canadian church.

But on Friday evening, April 14th, while I was considering seriously the advisability of offering my services to one of the Scottish or American churches, a letter came from Dr. MacLaren stating that the Foreign Mission Committee had decided to recommend the General Assembly that I be accepted as their first missionary to the heathen world. It sent a thrill of joy to my heart. Accepted, and by my own beloved church! The next day I left the heathery hills, and three days later was on board the " Caledonia," bound from Glasgow to New York. I was again a steerage passenger, but for my com panions had over seven hundred Irish Roman Catholic emigrants. I have seen something of the under-side of life since then, I have looked upon human beings in all stages of degra dation and in all conditions of filth ; but nothing has been able to blot out of my memory the impression made by the sights and sounds of that homeward voyage.

Right glad I was, after nearly three long weeks, to breathe once more the pure air of heaven, and refresh my eyes with scenes that were wholesome and clean. The General Assembly of the Canada Presbyterian Church was called to meet in the city of Quebec on the second Wednesday of June. I was invited by the Foreign Mission Committee to be present at that Assembly. That venerable court was opened by the retiring moderator, the late Principal Michael Willis. The Rev. John Scott, D.D., then minister of St. Andrew's Church, London, was elected moderator. There were " burning questions " before that Assembly. The " Or gan " was beginning to make itself heard in the church, and the question of union with the " Old Kirk " in Canada was quite to the front. But to me all interest centered around the report of the Foreign Mission Committee.

Would the Assem bly adopt the committee's recommendation? If so, to what field would I be sent? The committee's report was presented on Wednesday, June 14th. It urged the Assembly "to favor mission work among the heathen." It stated: "A man has offered, and the church seems prepared to meet the liability. Mr. MacKay, a student of the church, having passed the winter under Dr. Duff, is now in this city, ready to undertake the work which the church may appoint." Three fields were suggested — India, the New Hebrides, and China. The report preferred China. The Assembly decided : " That the offer of Mr. George L. MacKay's services as a missionary to the heathen be cordially welcomed, and that he be, as he is hereby, called by this Assembly to go forth as a missionary of the Canada Presbyterian Church to the foreign field; " That China be chosen as the field to which Mr. MacKay shall be sent ; "That the Presbytery of Toronto be authorized to ordain Mr. MacKay to the holy ministry, and to make arrangements, in accordance with the Foreign Mission Committee, for his designation to the work whereunto he has been called."

That evening I was introduced to the General Assembly as "the first foreign missionary of the Canada Presbyterian Church," and was invited to address the court. The " fathers and brethren" were kind to me that night; some of them thought me an " enthusiast," and pitied me. Dr. John Hall of New York was on the platform, as deputy from the Presby terian Church of the United States ; and when I had finished speaking he led the Assembly in prayer, commending "the young missionary " to the care of the eternal God, praying for "journeying mercies" and the sure guidance of the Jehovah of Israel. In those days the church in Canada was divided and weak. The union of 1875, that consolidated Presbyterianism in British North America into one harmonious, strong, and ag gressive church, and that has made the Presbyterian Church in Canada not the least in the great family of the churches of the Reformation, had not yet been consummated.

The missionary effort of the church was directed almost entirely to work at home. Now that a new move had been made, it was necessary that funds be provided to meet the expense. To assist in awakening an interest in the cause of foreign missions I was appointed to visit various congregations in Quebec and throughout Ontario during the summer of 187 1. I visited a good many churches between Quebec and Goderich, carrying out Paul's injunction to Timothy ; but when I discussed the " Master's great commission," and undertook to " reprove, rebuke, exhort," some of the congregations did not take kindly to the exercise. Some very uncomplimentary things were said, and I was called " an excited young man." There was a great deal of apathy, and the church was very cold. It seems to me that was the "ice age."

But there were some noble exceptions. Several good meetings were held in Mon treal, and I was greatly cheered by the kind and encourag ing words of Principal Mac Vicar and the great geologist, Sir William Dawson. A union meeting was held in Ottawa. Rev. Dr. MacLaren was minister of Knox Church, and Dr. Moore of Bank Street. Their noble words of commendation and appeal stirred more hearts than mine. At Ayr I had the good fortune to meet the pastor of one of the churches, the late Rev. Walter Inglis. He was himself a veteran missionary who had spent a quarter of a century in the Dark Continent. He felt the coldness and apathy of the church, but his royal nature touched it all with warmth and sunshine : " Never worry, young man. People will lecture you and advise you and talk about the cost. Put it in your pocket and go your way.

Things will change, and you'll see a brighter day." I look back on the experiences of that first tour of the churches, and I contrast them with things to-day. Surely the predicted change has come. Rip Van AVinkle saw no greater in his day. Ministers now are all as " excited " as I was twenty-three years ago, and they are much better informed. Congregations are all organized for mission purposes. Mis sions is the most popular of all topics. People crowd to hear the story of missionary work abroad. There are " mission " evenings at every General Assembly. Missionaries are desig nated and sent out every year. The " brighter day " has come. Thank God, I have lived to see it. The past is forgotten in the joy of the present, and the future is pregnant with still greater things. To-morrow will be as to-day, and much more abundant.

Chapter III Toronto To Tamsui

Ordination — Departure — On the way — Credentials — Alone — Japan — With English Presbyterian Missionaries — In South Formosa — At Tamsui — " This is the land 1" THE Presbytery of Toronto, in accordance with the instructions of the General Assembly, made arrangements for my ordination and designation on Tuesday, September 19th. I appeared before the Presbytery in the afternoon and deliv ered my " trials." In the evening the ordination service was held in Gould Street Church. The pastor, the Rev. John M. King, D.D., now principal of Manitoba College, Winnipeg, preached on the text, " His name shall endure forever." At my side that evening was another candidate for the holy office, George Bryce, who was under appointment to missionary and educational work in Manitoba. Dr. Bryce has served the church with honor and success, and has risen to distinction among Canadian educationists and authors.

That evening we stood together before the Rev. J. Pringle, the moderator, knelt together, and by "laying on of the hands of the Presbytery" were together set apart to the work of the gospel ministry and designated to our respective fields, he to go to the newer West and I to go to the older East. The convener of the Foreign Mission Committee came up from Ottawa and delivered the " charge " to the foreign missionary. My companion was similarly addressed in the name of the Home Mission Com- TORONTO TO TAMSUI 27 mittee by the Rev. Dr. Laing, now minister in Dundas. The speakers recognized the importance of the occasion as mark ing a forward movement in both the home and foreign work, and as suggesting a union of aims and interests that must never be sundered. The church's work is one, and conflict will be fatal.

One month after ordination, October 19, 1871, 1 bade fare well to my old home in Zorra, to meet again an unbroken family circle only when life's sea is no more. What was said or what was felt need not now be told. God only knows what some hearts feel. They break, perchance, but they give no sign. It was nearly noon when the west-bound train pulled out of the station at Woodstock. Our first run was to Detroit. Chicago was next reached — a dreadful sight — dust and ashes and smoke. The " great fire " had just swept over the city, and was still smoking and smoldering. The third run was to Omaha, where I spent the first Sabbath day, and had the privilege of preaching the blessed gospel to a crowd assembled in the open air on the outskirts of the city. Traveling was not the simple affair it is to-day.

There were no through tickets from Toronto to Hong Kong. The missionary traveled over several roads and had to deal with various companies. There was no recognized " missionary rate." But the railway authorities were generous, and granted me a reduction over their roads. At Omaha the agent looked doubtful when I told him I was a missionary bound for a heathen land and asked for the favor granted by the three roads over which I had already traveled. " I do not know you," he replied. " Where are your credentials? " I had no credentials, nor any formal document by which I might be certified. I was at a loss what to do. No one knew me. Then like a flash the thought of my Bible came to me. It was the parting gift of the Foreign Mission Committee. I FROM FAR FORMOSA produced it from my satchel and asked the agent to read the inscription on the fly-leaf : presented to Rev. G. L. MACKAY, First Missionary of the Canada Presbyterian Church to China, by the Foreign Mission Committee, as a parting token of their esteem, when about to leave his native land for the sphere of his future labors among the heathen.