CHAPTERXI.THE SCHOOLS OF SIAM.InSiam schools are made up of boys and girls, just as they are in other countries. But the boys and girls of Siam are not made of “sugar and spice and all that’s nice,” but of fish and fowl, of curry and rice, of onions and garlic, and everything nice. And they seem to be very good materials to make children of, too, for they are usually very bright and clever.They commit to memory more readily than the average American school-boy, but in studies requiring a process of reasoning or long-continued hard work they would probably fall behind. They usually begin a new study or work with great avidity, but often tire before it is half finished. The average Siamese boy of nine or ten years of age does not ask more than a day to learn all the large and small letters of the English alphabet, and a tiptop student will only want half a day. In a year afterward he will be able to read fluently inWilson’s Third Reader, and translate it all into his own language, and will also be able to write nicely and know something of arithmetic.A teacher of a Siamese school need have little trouble with its government if it were not so impossible ever to be sure of the truth. When a boy gets into mischief he always plans to lie about it; and he can do it with such an air of candor that he will make the teacher almost disbelieve his own senses. But this fault is doubtless largely owing to the early training in heathen homes and in the old-fashioned “wat-schools” of the country.The prevailing religion and the education of a country usually stand side by side, and aid each other. Their united influence is sometimes to spread sunshine and prosperity over the land, and sometimes to fasten the chains of superstition and blight the moral feelings of the entire nation.Siam is no exception to the general rule. For centuries the Buddhist temples have been the only “temples of learning,” and the men who shave their heads, dress in yellow robes and beg their food have performed the double office of pedagogue and priest. It would seem as if Siam ought to be a highly-educated country when these mendicant teachers form one-thirtieth part of the entire population, and when the custom of the country is such that parents usually require their sons to spend all the years of boyhood and youth under the care of these teachers in the temples. So universal is this custom that work for boys is something that has not yet been invented in this country.As soon as a little boy is out of his babyhood his parents at once begin to look around for a desirable teacher for him. A priest is selected: usually he is a friend or relative of the parents, and one whom they think they can trust to care for and educate their boy. The child is then taken to the temple, orwat, as it is called, and given to the priest. In doing this the parent gives up all claim, authority and oversight of the boy to the priest, often closing a long speech on the subject by begging the priest to “whip him a great deal; do not break his back or put out his eyes; anything less than that you can do: I won’t say a word.”While the child is in the wat the parent is expected to clothe him and also to contribute liberally to thelunch-basketthat this man of holy orders carries around daily to have filled by pious Buddhists. The child’s most important duty now is to wait on his teacher, follow him on his morning tramps, paddle his boat, serve his food and be ready at all times to obey his wishes.The priest, on his part, is expected to teach the boy to read and write; and if he is a very extraordinary “man of letters” he may possibly teach the first principles of arithmetic; this, however, is a rare accomplishment, gained only by the favored few.But whatever else these Buddhist schoolmasters fail in teaching, there is one lesson that they succeed in imparting better than most college professors of other countries, and that is a feeling of respect on the part of their pupils for their teachers, no matter how indifferently the work may have been done. No matter if ten years have been spent in doing what should have been done in as many months, still, any Siamese man would be branded as a wretched ingrate if he did not through all his life honor and respect the man who taught him to read. This is at least one good thing to be found in the old-fashioned wat education; but just how it is gained, and where the secret of success lies, are somewhat of a mystery.Doubtless, it is partly owing to the religious element. The yellow-robes themselves are objects of veneration, and Buddha, as it is claimed, was only a teacher, so that the office of teaching, as well as the dress of the teacher, is calculated to inspire fear and respect. And perhaps thebirchor ratan discipline, which is often terribly severe, may have something to do with it. A mistake in writing or spelling usually brings down the teacher’s lash, and this is calledson hi chum(teaching to remember); for a more heinous offence of disobedience or want of respect toward his teacher the pupil’s hands are tied around a post, and then he is whipped—not four or five strokes, but it is one, two or threedozen, as the case seems to require. A teacher is supposed to take an interest in his pupil, and the pupil to be improving, just in proportion to the amount of corporal punishment administered.One day a man brought his boy to put him into the “King’s School.” After the arrangements were all made and he was about to say “Good-bye” to his boy, he turned to the principal of the school and said, “Please whip him a great deal; I want him to learn fast. If at any time you think he deserves one dozen, please give him two dozen, and if you think he deserves two dozen, please give him four dozen. Don’t let him be a dunce.” And with this loving injunction he took his leave. Another little boy has dropped out of the same school entirely, the probable reason being that his grandmother’s repeated request tote hi mak mak(whip him a great deal) was entirely disregarded. These wat-schools—if schools they may be called—are free from all the trammels of school laws and school committees, each teacher being left free to follow his own will in everything. Neither are there any school-houses or school-furniture. The teacher seats himself, tailor-fashion, on the floor of his own filthy, cheerless room, and his pupils sit in the same way around him.There is only one school-book (which is a kind of combined primer and reader), and after that is mastered the learner must practice reading on whatever he can find; it may be a fabulous tale, a drama or a ghost-story, but certainly it will not be a good and truthful book that will elevate and improve the reader, for the literature of Siam has nothing of that kind. Occasionally the books that have been prepared by the missionaries are found in the hands of these wat-boys, but that is the exception and not the rule.These schools have no regular school-term, and of course no vacations; no regular hours for study, and of course none for play; no classes, and of course no emulation and no chance for a dull boy to be helped over the hard places by his near neighbor. The whole work is controlled by the whim of the teacher at the time, without principle and without rule.If a boy recites once or twice a week, all is well, and if he recites only once or twice a month, still it is all right; and if in the course of eight or ten years he has learned very little, there is no one to complain. He has at least been kept out of the way at home, and now he is of such an age that he can become anainand spend a few more years in obtaining a smattering of the Pali or sacred language, and after this he can become a full-fledged priest, which is the summit of the fondest parent’s wishes.While a boy is at a wat he is not usually called a scholar or pupil, but awat-boy—a name which generally implies everything that is naughty. His companions are idle, vicious fellows, fond of cockfighting, swearing and gambling, and he grows up among them bad just in proportion as he is clever and gifted.The conservative men of Siam are bewailing these latter days, and among other things they aver that wat education is not what it was in the good old times long ago—that then the priests were more strict with their boys, and made them work and study more than they do now. This may be so. But if the men who were educated in the temples years ago, and who should now be the pillars and producers of the country, are to be taken as exponents of what that system of education can do for manhood, then we may safely infer that temple-life was at that time just what it is now—a school of idleness and vice, and those who leave its haunts are fitted only for a lazy, aimless existence. This the natives themselves freely admit, and the time has evidently come when something better is demanded.While Siam has been doing, perhaps, the best she knew for her sons, her daughters in some respects have been much better off. They are not supposed to need any education, and are therefore trained from childhood to help their mothers with all kinds of heavy as well as light work. Thus it comes to pass that the girls grow up to be the “hewers of wood and drawers of water,” the planters and the traders of Siam, while the influence of their brothers is to a great extent a dead weight on the prosperity of the country.And now what have missionaries done to show Siam a better way? Christianity implies knowledge, and missionaries believe in schools. “The Oriental mind is quick in childhood, but early stops its growth;” then to civilize and Christianize such a people the most hopeful plan is to begin with the children. So, wherever a Presbyterian mission has been established in Siam the church and the school have grown up together.The mission-school for boys in Bangkok was opened in the early days of the work there, and through all these years it has been doing a grand work in educating the children of the Church as well as those brought to it from heathen families, who have often carried the blessed truths of the Bible with them to their heathen homes. In this, which was the first mission-school in Siam, many plans have been tried and much valuable experience gained.In Siam, as in other Eastern countries, the native mind is becoming roused to seek for knowledge, and there is a growing desire to learn the English language. This wish draws many into the boys’ school who would not otherwise be found there. Trade and commerce are calling for clerks and assistants who have a knowledge of English, and a boy with only a smattering of the coveted foreign tongue is in demand at high wages, and is thus often induced to leave school long before he is fit for a business-life. This at present is a great detriment to all the schools, but as the demand becomes supplied a higher standard will be necessary and a more thorough education sought.In the boys’ mission-school it has been found necessary to have all who enter make a written promise to remain a specified number of years, so as to ensure a reasonable knowledge of English and a better knowledge of that more important lesson, that “God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son.” There is hardly a business-house in Bangkok that does not have one or more than one young man in its employ who has been educated in the mission-school, and some of them are consistent Christian men, a credit to their teachers and an honor to the school.A SCHOOL IN SIAM.A SCHOOL IN SIAM.Buddhism is planned only for men, and so girls are not taught in the wat-schools; but as the religion of Jesus takes in the whole family, misson-work would be lame indeed without its schools for girls. In the East knowledge is thought to be not only unnecessary, but positively injurious, to women; so when the missionary ladies first tried to gather up pupils for a girls’ school they met with all kinds of objections from the parents. In the first place, they could not understand the motives. How could any one be so unselfish as to spend time in teaching a lot of girls without any compensation? They did not believe it. So at once evil-minded persons spread infamous tales, and explained the thing by affirming that it was only a trick to secure the children, and by and by they would be sent to America and sold as slaves.Another objection was that for girls to go to school was altogetheragainst the custom, and that, of itself, was enough in Siam. Again, suppose they went to school and learned to read, then they would know more than their mothers, and how could they honor and respect their parents, as they were in duty bound to do?But the greatest objection of all was that the girls were the workers in the family, and if they were to spend the day in school who wouldha kin(seek a living) for the family? And this seemed to be a real difficulty.The question of bread and meat, or rather rice and fish, the missionary could neither ignore nor argue away. These heathen mothers in this respect were just like other human beings: they would not willingly give up their daughters’ help at home, which was of real value to the whole family, for an education which they believed would be injurious in every way. They hated the new religion and despised the offered education.As far as could be seen then, there was but one way out of the difficulty; and so the question was asked, “How much can your girl earn per day?” and the old mother answered, “When she finds work she makes afuangper day” (seven and a half cents). Then said the missionary, “Send her to me, and I will let her spend half the day in learning to read and the other half in working, andfor her workI will pay her a fuang.” At this the mother began to waver, and at last said, “I am very poor, and sometimes it is hard to find work, so I will let her try it.” The next morning the industrial school for girls at Petchaburee was opened with one scholar, and she was seated on the floor of the veranda of the mission-house, and for nearly a month there were no additions. But there are times when it is safe to wait. A very simple white jacket was cut, and Perm was taught to make it for herself. After many days, and with pushing the needle from her instead of drawing it toward her, and with holding the seam between her little bare toes instead of pinning it to her knee, the jacket was pronounced finished and ready to wear—the first the child had ever owned in her life. Then she was allowed to take some soap and give herself a bath, and then to don her new jacket and a new waist-cloth. That evening, when she went home, she was the happiest child in the village, and served as a good advertisement of the new-fashioned school. Before very long the veranda and the missionary’s hands were both full.That was seventeen years ago, and from that time to this the school has been carried on, and done a grand good work in many respects—one of the most important of which is that it has furnished teachers for five branch schools that have been established in different localities around it. Many of its pupils are now industrious and pious wives and mothers at the head of Christian families, while a few have gone, as there is good reason to believe, to finish their education in heaven.Some object strongly to the plan of giving money to the pupils of mission-schools, and perhaps elsewhere:giving boardinginstead of money, or some other plan, might be better; but after so many years of experience those in charge are fully convinced that for Petchaburee this is the only feasible plan.If a respectable, self-reliant Church is ever built up in Siam, it will be by cultivating the graces of industry, cleanliness and godliness together; and the best place to do this is in well-appointed industrial schools. Would that such could be established all over the country for both boys and girls, and then we might reasonably hope that some time the number of idle loungers might grow “beautifully less”!A few years ago the king showed his appreciation of what this school was doing for his people when he gave a donation of two thousand dollars to help furnish the new school-building.Some years after the girls’ school at Petchaburee was started a school was established for girls in Bangkok, but on a different plan in some respects, the former being a day-school and for the working classes, while the latter is a boarding-school and for a higher class of pupils. In this school instruction is given in both the native and English languages, and the industries are principally ornamental. Some specimens of the work done in this school were put into the Centennial Exhibition in 1882, and His Majesty paid a pleasant compliment to the school when he purchased the entire lot for use in the royal palace.A knowledge of what the mission-schools are doing for those under their care no doubt at first suggested to His Majesty’s mind the idea of inaugurating something in the way of government schools that would be after the American model and entirely different from the wat-schools. As a first step, the “King’s School” was planned, and at the king’s request was placed in charge of one of the American missionaries.As yet, this school is only an infant in years, and no prophet has been found wise enough to foretell what its future may be. It has passed through all the diseases incident to childhood and youth, and some of them have been of a most malignant nature. But, what was worst of all, its doctors could never agree as to where the trouble was or what remedies should be used. At length, however, it began to improve, and now, at four years of age, it begins to breathe freely and develop in strength and manly beauty. May Heaven’s richest blessing rest upon it, and may God grant that the strength of its manhood may be consecrated to his service!Difficulties are to be expected in the prosecution of every new enterprise, and the most hopeful friends of the King’s School have not been much disappointed with its various trials. The committee to whose care His Majesty committed this school were entirely unused to educational affairs, and for want of experience many and serious blunders were made. But experience has taught useful lessons for future use, and the time seems to be near when steps will be taken to provide something better to take the place of the wat-school.The native mind is being directed to this subject as never before. A striking proof of this fact is, that the queen, who is a most zealous Buddhist, is now having a large and beautiful school-building put up as a monument to her royal sister, who was drowned two years ago. This building is not yet finished, and it is not known just how it is to be managed; but it certainly seems to mark a new era, as heretofore Buddhist temples were the only memorial buildings in the country.One great question for the near future seems to be, What kind of influences will mould and shape this new educational work? Will it be the English moralist, the French Jesuit, the German infidel or the American Christian? The king plainly intimated his wishes when he asked a missionary to take charge of the school under his own patronage. And while at that time there were hardly missionaries enough in Siam to hold on to the direct mission-work, still the hope of securing the vantage-ground for Christianity was such that the request could not be refused. And although, as yet, direct religious instruction cannot be a part of the daily routine of the school-room, there is no need to be in haste. Much must first be done to disarm prejudice and to conciliate the minds of conservative Buddhists, and prove to them that the missionaries aretruefriends, who labor for the highest welfare of the country. When that shall be made evident, more liberty will be accorded to Christian instructors.Some of the members of the royal family are afraid to trust the heir-apparent and his royal brothers to the influence of Christianity; so a Calcutta Brahman has been employed and a school started in the palace. A friend went to visit this school one day, and the teacher handed some writing-books to the visitor to let him see how well the little princes could write. Almost the first page he looked at had this as a copy: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” This shows what unexpected means God sometimes takes to teach the truths of his own word, and how foolish it is for any one to suppose that the English language can be learned without learning the religion of Jesus at the same time. May this not be the great good that God in his providence means to bring out of this universal desire for a knowledge of the English language? It is so full of Christianity that to know the one is to know the other.May we not hope that our mother-tongue may some day become the language of all nations, and that Christianity may be the religion of the world?CHILDREN OF THE LATE FIRST KING OF SIAMA FEW OF THE CHILDREN OF THE LATE FIRST KING OF SIAM.
InSiam schools are made up of boys and girls, just as they are in other countries. But the boys and girls of Siam are not made of “sugar and spice and all that’s nice,” but of fish and fowl, of curry and rice, of onions and garlic, and everything nice. And they seem to be very good materials to make children of, too, for they are usually very bright and clever.
They commit to memory more readily than the average American school-boy, but in studies requiring a process of reasoning or long-continued hard work they would probably fall behind. They usually begin a new study or work with great avidity, but often tire before it is half finished. The average Siamese boy of nine or ten years of age does not ask more than a day to learn all the large and small letters of the English alphabet, and a tiptop student will only want half a day. In a year afterward he will be able to read fluently inWilson’s Third Reader, and translate it all into his own language, and will also be able to write nicely and know something of arithmetic.
A teacher of a Siamese school need have little trouble with its government if it were not so impossible ever to be sure of the truth. When a boy gets into mischief he always plans to lie about it; and he can do it with such an air of candor that he will make the teacher almost disbelieve his own senses. But this fault is doubtless largely owing to the early training in heathen homes and in the old-fashioned “wat-schools” of the country.
The prevailing religion and the education of a country usually stand side by side, and aid each other. Their united influence is sometimes to spread sunshine and prosperity over the land, and sometimes to fasten the chains of superstition and blight the moral feelings of the entire nation.
Siam is no exception to the general rule. For centuries the Buddhist temples have been the only “temples of learning,” and the men who shave their heads, dress in yellow robes and beg their food have performed the double office of pedagogue and priest. It would seem as if Siam ought to be a highly-educated country when these mendicant teachers form one-thirtieth part of the entire population, and when the custom of the country is such that parents usually require their sons to spend all the years of boyhood and youth under the care of these teachers in the temples. So universal is this custom that work for boys is something that has not yet been invented in this country.
As soon as a little boy is out of his babyhood his parents at once begin to look around for a desirable teacher for him. A priest is selected: usually he is a friend or relative of the parents, and one whom they think they can trust to care for and educate their boy. The child is then taken to the temple, orwat, as it is called, and given to the priest. In doing this the parent gives up all claim, authority and oversight of the boy to the priest, often closing a long speech on the subject by begging the priest to “whip him a great deal; do not break his back or put out his eyes; anything less than that you can do: I won’t say a word.”
While the child is in the wat the parent is expected to clothe him and also to contribute liberally to thelunch-basketthat this man of holy orders carries around daily to have filled by pious Buddhists. The child’s most important duty now is to wait on his teacher, follow him on his morning tramps, paddle his boat, serve his food and be ready at all times to obey his wishes.
The priest, on his part, is expected to teach the boy to read and write; and if he is a very extraordinary “man of letters” he may possibly teach the first principles of arithmetic; this, however, is a rare accomplishment, gained only by the favored few.
But whatever else these Buddhist schoolmasters fail in teaching, there is one lesson that they succeed in imparting better than most college professors of other countries, and that is a feeling of respect on the part of their pupils for their teachers, no matter how indifferently the work may have been done. No matter if ten years have been spent in doing what should have been done in as many months, still, any Siamese man would be branded as a wretched ingrate if he did not through all his life honor and respect the man who taught him to read. This is at least one good thing to be found in the old-fashioned wat education; but just how it is gained, and where the secret of success lies, are somewhat of a mystery.
Doubtless, it is partly owing to the religious element. The yellow-robes themselves are objects of veneration, and Buddha, as it is claimed, was only a teacher, so that the office of teaching, as well as the dress of the teacher, is calculated to inspire fear and respect. And perhaps thebirchor ratan discipline, which is often terribly severe, may have something to do with it. A mistake in writing or spelling usually brings down the teacher’s lash, and this is calledson hi chum(teaching to remember); for a more heinous offence of disobedience or want of respect toward his teacher the pupil’s hands are tied around a post, and then he is whipped—not four or five strokes, but it is one, two or threedozen, as the case seems to require. A teacher is supposed to take an interest in his pupil, and the pupil to be improving, just in proportion to the amount of corporal punishment administered.
One day a man brought his boy to put him into the “King’s School.” After the arrangements were all made and he was about to say “Good-bye” to his boy, he turned to the principal of the school and said, “Please whip him a great deal; I want him to learn fast. If at any time you think he deserves one dozen, please give him two dozen, and if you think he deserves two dozen, please give him four dozen. Don’t let him be a dunce.” And with this loving injunction he took his leave. Another little boy has dropped out of the same school entirely, the probable reason being that his grandmother’s repeated request tote hi mak mak(whip him a great deal) was entirely disregarded. These wat-schools—if schools they may be called—are free from all the trammels of school laws and school committees, each teacher being left free to follow his own will in everything. Neither are there any school-houses or school-furniture. The teacher seats himself, tailor-fashion, on the floor of his own filthy, cheerless room, and his pupils sit in the same way around him.
There is only one school-book (which is a kind of combined primer and reader), and after that is mastered the learner must practice reading on whatever he can find; it may be a fabulous tale, a drama or a ghost-story, but certainly it will not be a good and truthful book that will elevate and improve the reader, for the literature of Siam has nothing of that kind. Occasionally the books that have been prepared by the missionaries are found in the hands of these wat-boys, but that is the exception and not the rule.
These schools have no regular school-term, and of course no vacations; no regular hours for study, and of course none for play; no classes, and of course no emulation and no chance for a dull boy to be helped over the hard places by his near neighbor. The whole work is controlled by the whim of the teacher at the time, without principle and without rule.
If a boy recites once or twice a week, all is well, and if he recites only once or twice a month, still it is all right; and if in the course of eight or ten years he has learned very little, there is no one to complain. He has at least been kept out of the way at home, and now he is of such an age that he can become anainand spend a few more years in obtaining a smattering of the Pali or sacred language, and after this he can become a full-fledged priest, which is the summit of the fondest parent’s wishes.
While a boy is at a wat he is not usually called a scholar or pupil, but awat-boy—a name which generally implies everything that is naughty. His companions are idle, vicious fellows, fond of cockfighting, swearing and gambling, and he grows up among them bad just in proportion as he is clever and gifted.
The conservative men of Siam are bewailing these latter days, and among other things they aver that wat education is not what it was in the good old times long ago—that then the priests were more strict with their boys, and made them work and study more than they do now. This may be so. But if the men who were educated in the temples years ago, and who should now be the pillars and producers of the country, are to be taken as exponents of what that system of education can do for manhood, then we may safely infer that temple-life was at that time just what it is now—a school of idleness and vice, and those who leave its haunts are fitted only for a lazy, aimless existence. This the natives themselves freely admit, and the time has evidently come when something better is demanded.
While Siam has been doing, perhaps, the best she knew for her sons, her daughters in some respects have been much better off. They are not supposed to need any education, and are therefore trained from childhood to help their mothers with all kinds of heavy as well as light work. Thus it comes to pass that the girls grow up to be the “hewers of wood and drawers of water,” the planters and the traders of Siam, while the influence of their brothers is to a great extent a dead weight on the prosperity of the country.
And now what have missionaries done to show Siam a better way? Christianity implies knowledge, and missionaries believe in schools. “The Oriental mind is quick in childhood, but early stops its growth;” then to civilize and Christianize such a people the most hopeful plan is to begin with the children. So, wherever a Presbyterian mission has been established in Siam the church and the school have grown up together.
The mission-school for boys in Bangkok was opened in the early days of the work there, and through all these years it has been doing a grand work in educating the children of the Church as well as those brought to it from heathen families, who have often carried the blessed truths of the Bible with them to their heathen homes. In this, which was the first mission-school in Siam, many plans have been tried and much valuable experience gained.
In Siam, as in other Eastern countries, the native mind is becoming roused to seek for knowledge, and there is a growing desire to learn the English language. This wish draws many into the boys’ school who would not otherwise be found there. Trade and commerce are calling for clerks and assistants who have a knowledge of English, and a boy with only a smattering of the coveted foreign tongue is in demand at high wages, and is thus often induced to leave school long before he is fit for a business-life. This at present is a great detriment to all the schools, but as the demand becomes supplied a higher standard will be necessary and a more thorough education sought.
In the boys’ mission-school it has been found necessary to have all who enter make a written promise to remain a specified number of years, so as to ensure a reasonable knowledge of English and a better knowledge of that more important lesson, that “God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son.” There is hardly a business-house in Bangkok that does not have one or more than one young man in its employ who has been educated in the mission-school, and some of them are consistent Christian men, a credit to their teachers and an honor to the school.
A SCHOOL IN SIAM.A SCHOOL IN SIAM.
A SCHOOL IN SIAM.
Buddhism is planned only for men, and so girls are not taught in the wat-schools; but as the religion of Jesus takes in the whole family, misson-work would be lame indeed without its schools for girls. In the East knowledge is thought to be not only unnecessary, but positively injurious, to women; so when the missionary ladies first tried to gather up pupils for a girls’ school they met with all kinds of objections from the parents. In the first place, they could not understand the motives. How could any one be so unselfish as to spend time in teaching a lot of girls without any compensation? They did not believe it. So at once evil-minded persons spread infamous tales, and explained the thing by affirming that it was only a trick to secure the children, and by and by they would be sent to America and sold as slaves.
Another objection was that for girls to go to school was altogetheragainst the custom, and that, of itself, was enough in Siam. Again, suppose they went to school and learned to read, then they would know more than their mothers, and how could they honor and respect their parents, as they were in duty bound to do?
But the greatest objection of all was that the girls were the workers in the family, and if they were to spend the day in school who wouldha kin(seek a living) for the family? And this seemed to be a real difficulty.
The question of bread and meat, or rather rice and fish, the missionary could neither ignore nor argue away. These heathen mothers in this respect were just like other human beings: they would not willingly give up their daughters’ help at home, which was of real value to the whole family, for an education which they believed would be injurious in every way. They hated the new religion and despised the offered education.
As far as could be seen then, there was but one way out of the difficulty; and so the question was asked, “How much can your girl earn per day?” and the old mother answered, “When she finds work she makes afuangper day” (seven and a half cents). Then said the missionary, “Send her to me, and I will let her spend half the day in learning to read and the other half in working, andfor her workI will pay her a fuang.” At this the mother began to waver, and at last said, “I am very poor, and sometimes it is hard to find work, so I will let her try it.” The next morning the industrial school for girls at Petchaburee was opened with one scholar, and she was seated on the floor of the veranda of the mission-house, and for nearly a month there were no additions. But there are times when it is safe to wait. A very simple white jacket was cut, and Perm was taught to make it for herself. After many days, and with pushing the needle from her instead of drawing it toward her, and with holding the seam between her little bare toes instead of pinning it to her knee, the jacket was pronounced finished and ready to wear—the first the child had ever owned in her life. Then she was allowed to take some soap and give herself a bath, and then to don her new jacket and a new waist-cloth. That evening, when she went home, she was the happiest child in the village, and served as a good advertisement of the new-fashioned school. Before very long the veranda and the missionary’s hands were both full.
That was seventeen years ago, and from that time to this the school has been carried on, and done a grand good work in many respects—one of the most important of which is that it has furnished teachers for five branch schools that have been established in different localities around it. Many of its pupils are now industrious and pious wives and mothers at the head of Christian families, while a few have gone, as there is good reason to believe, to finish their education in heaven.
Some object strongly to the plan of giving money to the pupils of mission-schools, and perhaps elsewhere:giving boardinginstead of money, or some other plan, might be better; but after so many years of experience those in charge are fully convinced that for Petchaburee this is the only feasible plan.
If a respectable, self-reliant Church is ever built up in Siam, it will be by cultivating the graces of industry, cleanliness and godliness together; and the best place to do this is in well-appointed industrial schools. Would that such could be established all over the country for both boys and girls, and then we might reasonably hope that some time the number of idle loungers might grow “beautifully less”!
A few years ago the king showed his appreciation of what this school was doing for his people when he gave a donation of two thousand dollars to help furnish the new school-building.
Some years after the girls’ school at Petchaburee was started a school was established for girls in Bangkok, but on a different plan in some respects, the former being a day-school and for the working classes, while the latter is a boarding-school and for a higher class of pupils. In this school instruction is given in both the native and English languages, and the industries are principally ornamental. Some specimens of the work done in this school were put into the Centennial Exhibition in 1882, and His Majesty paid a pleasant compliment to the school when he purchased the entire lot for use in the royal palace.
A knowledge of what the mission-schools are doing for those under their care no doubt at first suggested to His Majesty’s mind the idea of inaugurating something in the way of government schools that would be after the American model and entirely different from the wat-schools. As a first step, the “King’s School” was planned, and at the king’s request was placed in charge of one of the American missionaries.
As yet, this school is only an infant in years, and no prophet has been found wise enough to foretell what its future may be. It has passed through all the diseases incident to childhood and youth, and some of them have been of a most malignant nature. But, what was worst of all, its doctors could never agree as to where the trouble was or what remedies should be used. At length, however, it began to improve, and now, at four years of age, it begins to breathe freely and develop in strength and manly beauty. May Heaven’s richest blessing rest upon it, and may God grant that the strength of its manhood may be consecrated to his service!
Difficulties are to be expected in the prosecution of every new enterprise, and the most hopeful friends of the King’s School have not been much disappointed with its various trials. The committee to whose care His Majesty committed this school were entirely unused to educational affairs, and for want of experience many and serious blunders were made. But experience has taught useful lessons for future use, and the time seems to be near when steps will be taken to provide something better to take the place of the wat-school.
The native mind is being directed to this subject as never before. A striking proof of this fact is, that the queen, who is a most zealous Buddhist, is now having a large and beautiful school-building put up as a monument to her royal sister, who was drowned two years ago. This building is not yet finished, and it is not known just how it is to be managed; but it certainly seems to mark a new era, as heretofore Buddhist temples were the only memorial buildings in the country.
One great question for the near future seems to be, What kind of influences will mould and shape this new educational work? Will it be the English moralist, the French Jesuit, the German infidel or the American Christian? The king plainly intimated his wishes when he asked a missionary to take charge of the school under his own patronage. And while at that time there were hardly missionaries enough in Siam to hold on to the direct mission-work, still the hope of securing the vantage-ground for Christianity was such that the request could not be refused. And although, as yet, direct religious instruction cannot be a part of the daily routine of the school-room, there is no need to be in haste. Much must first be done to disarm prejudice and to conciliate the minds of conservative Buddhists, and prove to them that the missionaries aretruefriends, who labor for the highest welfare of the country. When that shall be made evident, more liberty will be accorded to Christian instructors.
Some of the members of the royal family are afraid to trust the heir-apparent and his royal brothers to the influence of Christianity; so a Calcutta Brahman has been employed and a school started in the palace. A friend went to visit this school one day, and the teacher handed some writing-books to the visitor to let him see how well the little princes could write. Almost the first page he looked at had this as a copy: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” This shows what unexpected means God sometimes takes to teach the truths of his own word, and how foolish it is for any one to suppose that the English language can be learned without learning the religion of Jesus at the same time. May this not be the great good that God in his providence means to bring out of this universal desire for a knowledge of the English language? It is so full of Christianity that to know the one is to know the other.
May we not hope that our mother-tongue may some day become the language of all nations, and that Christianity may be the religion of the world?
CHILDREN OF THE LATE FIRST KING OF SIAMA FEW OF THE CHILDREN OF THE LATE FIRST KING OF SIAM.
A FEW OF THE CHILDREN OF THE LATE FIRST KING OF SIAM.