We have had frequent occasion gratefully to record the good will of the Siamese government, and of its commissioners and representatives, towards our mission. In all its history the only exception to this uniform friendliness was in the case of the Commissioner who, in 1889, succeeded Prayā Tēp Worachun. The Boys’ School was on an old deserted monastery-site given by the Prince to Dr. Peoples for a medical or a mission compound. An old ruined chēdi or pagoda was still standing on it. Such lots, deserted by the monks, were then regarded as abodes of the spirits, and on such the natives dared not live. In preparing for the school buildings, the débris about the foot of the chēdi had been dug away. One of the early acts of the new Commissioner was to send a written notice to the mission that it was improper to use old Buddhist shrines for purposes other than those for which they were originally built; and he gave us notice that we were to have three months in which to find other quarters. But as no other lot was offered in its place, we remained quiet, and that was the last we heard of it.

Another incident, occurring soon after, was more serious, and gave us a great deal of anxiety; for it came near costing the life of one of our best native assistants. A deputation from some twelve or fifteen families in Chieng Dāo came to us with a request that a native assistant be sent up to teach them. Krū Nān Tā went up, and they became believers, but required much further instruction. We selected Noi Siri, the most prudent of our elders, for the task. We charged him specially, inasmuch as it was in a province new to our work, to use great caution and give no just cause of offence to the rulers or to others. He remained there a month, and then was recalled by the illness of his wife. He stopped at the mission to report progress, giving a good account of the conduct and diligence of the new Christians.

Great was our surprise, then, in a few hours to learn that Noi Siri had been arrested, put in heavy irons, and thrown into prison on a charge of treason against the government. Mr. Collins, Mr. Dodd, and I called upon the Commissioner to enquire the cause of his arrest. The Commissioner replied, Yes; he had him arrested on the grave charge of disloyalty in teaching the converts that they were exempt from government work. Such teaching was treason; and if the charge were true, the penalty was death. It was not, therefore, a bailable offence. At the same time, he said, no specifications had been forwarded. He would summon the accusers, and the man should have a fair trial, and should have the privilege of producing any witnesses he pleased in his defence. That was, of course, all that we could ask, save to beg that the trial be hastened as far as possible—to which he consented. Krū Nān Tā was allowed to see the prisoner in his cell. From him he learned that so far was the accusation from being true, that he had taught the Christians that they were not exempt from government work; and that, furthermore, no call had been made on them for service while he was there. We sent immediately for all the Christian men to come down.

After some delay the prisoner was called into court and examined. According to Siamese custom, his examination was taken down in writing.

“Are you Noi Siri, who has been teaching in Chieng Dāo?”

“Yes.”

“When did you go there to teach?”

“On the fourth of the third waning moon.”

“Have you taught that Christians are exempt from public service?”

“No. On the contrary, I taught that, as Siamese subjects, Christians are to pay their taxes and perform all the duties of other subjects.”

The testimony of the governor of Chieng Dāo, his accuser, was then taken in his presence. Among the questions asked him were these:

“Can you state any particular time and place when the Christians were called to do government work and refused?”

“Yes. I called a man or two, and they did not obey.”

“When was that call made?”

“On the fourth day of the third waxing moon.”

This was the only specification which the governor gave. The date, it will be noted, was fifteen days earlier than that of Noi Siri’s arrival in Chieng Dāo. If the statement were true, it might have subjected the persons who were summoned to trial and punishment for disloyalty; but it absolutely cleared Noi Siri. An upright judge would have dismissed the case. The Christian witnesses were in attendance to testify as to the nature of the instruction they received; but were not given the opportunity to do so. The accused man was remanded to prison. We waited, but nothing was done. We called once more on the Commissioner; but were told that the case had been referred to Bangkok, and he must wait for a reply. We waited again. At last we made a written appeal on his behalf, and in answer were told that the case was one with their own subjects, and we had nothing to do with it. Meantime Noi Siri had become quite ill, and all that we could do was to get him transferred from his dungeon to the common prison.

Eight months after this, when Mr. Dodd went down to Bangkok to be married to Miss Eakin, he made, through the United States Minister, an appeal to the Prince Minister of the North, who promised an immediate order for his release. As soon as we were assured of that, we went to the resident Prince in Chiengmai, H. R. H. Prince Sonapandit, who promised that the order should be issued at once. The next day we called on the Commissioner to remind him of the Prince’s promise; but he and the Judge had just gone out for a stroll in the city. It was then Saturday afternoon. Next day was our communion service, and I was determined to have Noi Siri present. To do this I had to follow those men up at once. I was a fast walker, and, when necessary, could run. My race after them was the ludicrous sequel of the case. Two high officials closing their office and escaping, in order to keep their victim in chains another night, pursued by swifter feet, and overtaken in the street! The Judge acknowledged that the Prince had given the order. He would attend to it to-morrow. Since to-morrow would be Sunday, I need not come. But I knew that we should not see Noi Siri in time for our worship unless I went for him. So on Sunday morning I called once more on the Judge, who again said that I need not wait; but I had to tell him that I would not return till I saw his release. So the prisoner was called, and I saw the fetters taken off from his ankles.

The second bell was ringing when I entered the church; but Noi Siri was with me. The congregation rose and sang the long metre doxology. There were not many dry eyes in the room. Mr. Dodd preached from the text, “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God.” Among the converts who then stood up to make a public profession of faith was Nāng Su, a daughter of Noi Siri—and this happy coincidence was no planning of ours.

Noi Siri’s faith had been tried by fire, and he had come forth from the furnace as pure gold. In addition to his own imprisonment and distress, his wife had been for months very low with sickness, and one of his grandchildren had died during the interval. But from his prison cell he had written to his family not to let their faith be shaken either by his trials or by their own. During the eight months and ten days of his imprisonment, one hundred and thirty-three persons—his daughter closing the list—were received into church-membership. A European in employ of the government, who had cognizance of the whole case, afterwards said to me, “It might be well to get the Commissioner to imprison a few more Christians!” A history of the case was afterwards published by our Board in a leaflet entitled, “The Laos Prisoner.”

Before the close of the year there was an event which for the time came near to overthrowing the government. A new tax, levied chiefly on areca trees, caused much exasperation throughout the country. As usual, the tax was farmed out to Chinese for collection. The local officers in various districts formed a coalition to resist to the uttermost the collection of the tax. Of course, this could not be allowed, since the collectors were the agents of the government. The resistance was centred chiefly in the districts to the eastward of the city, where Prayā Pāp, who had some reputation as a soldier, went so far as to gather a considerable force of the insurgents within a few miles of Chiengmai. A day even was set for their attack on the city. If they had made a dash then, they could easily have taken it, for the sympathy of the people was wholly with them, and the government was unprepared.

Our house was only two hundred yards away from the Chinese distillery, which was the objective of the insurgents. The residence of the Commissioner and that of the Siamese Prince Sonapandit were nearly opposite us on the other side of the river. Our position was further compromised by the fact that the wives and children of a number of influential Chinese had almost forcibly taken refuge in our compound. In any case, we should have been in a position of great danger from the guns on the other side of the river aimed at the distillery. We were strongly advised to take refuge in the British Consulate, whose shelter was kindly offered us. But the whole population in our neighbourhood was watching us. If we stirred, there would have been a general stampede.

Fortunately for themselves and for the country, the courage of the common people failed. One after another they deserted the leader, till at last he also fled. He was caught, however, and with seven other leaders was executed. This was the end of the matter in Chiengmai; but certain parties of the insurgents, escaping northwards, became roving bands of marauders that for some time disturbed the peace of the frontier towns. The rebellion never had any chance of ultimate success; but had the attack on the city been actually made, the immediate consequences would have been direful, and untold calamity would have been entailed on the whole country.

The arrival of Dr. McKean at the close of the year marked an era in our medical work. He was accompanied by our daughter, Miss Cornelia H. McGilvary, now Mrs. William Harris Jun. It was the pleasant duty of Mrs. McGilvary to escort the party up from Bangkok. The appointment of our daughter was no less a surprise than a delight to us. During her school days she always said that she would not become a missionary. When the question came up for final settlement, she fought it out in her own mind alone, and reached her own decision. The Lāo language, which, during her ten years’ absence, she seemed to have lost entirely, came back to her very soon and with little effort.

It has been Dr. McKean’s privilege to continue the work begun by able physicians, and to carry it to a higher degree of efficiency. He has combined, as most of our physicians have done, the two great objects of the medical missionary, the medical and the evangelistic, making the former a means to the latter. While the professional and the charitable features of the work have not been minimized, but rather magnified, no minister has more loved to preach the Gospel, or has been more successful in it. At the same time it may be that the great work now enlisting his sympathy and his strenuous efforts—the establishment of a leper colony and hospital, and the amelioration of the condition of that unfortunate class—may be the one with which his name will be most intimately associated.