A skillful and loving hand has laid a wreath of immortelles on the unknown grave of Kamil; his biography will live. We can only briefly record our love and admiration for those other two of the Arabian Mission, who “loved not their lives unto the death,” but “hazarded their lives for the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Peter John Zwemer was born at South Holland, Illinois, near Chicago, on September 2d, 1868. His childhood was spent in a loving Christian home surrounded by gracious influences and the prayers of godly parents. In 1880 he entered the preparatory department of Hope College, Holland, Michigan, and was finally graduated from the college in 1888. He was the only one of his class to choose the foreign field, and for it he sought special preparation after graduation, by work as Bible colporteur in Western Pennsylvania and New York, and a year of teaching in Iowa. In 1892 he was graduated from the New Brunswick Theological Seminary, and on September 14th, of the same year, was ordained at Grand Rapids, Michigan, and sailed for Arabia on October 19th. From the day of his arrival on the field to the day of his death his first thought was gospel work for the Arabs. He was of a practical turn of mind, and had no visionary ideas nor desire for martyrdom, but a sturdy, steady purpose to make his life tell. He was eager to meet men, keen to grasp opportunities, a cosmopolitan in spirit always and everywhere. A student of character rather than of books, he preferred to make two difficult journeys rather than report one. He loved to teach and knew how to do it. Sympathy for the weak and suffering and a hatred for all shams were prominent traits. He endeared himself even to those from whom he differed in opinion or conduct by his whole-hearted sincerity and earnest advocacy of his views. Arabia was to him a school of faith; his Christian character ripened into full fruitage through much suffering. Mr. Cantine wrote of him:
“Our personal relations were perhaps more intimate than those usually known by the missionaries of our scattered stations. I was at Busrah to welcome him when in 1892 he responded to our first call for volunteers, and was also the one to say good-bye a few months ago as he left behind him the rocks and hills of Muscat and Oman, among which the precious cruse of his strength had been broken for the Master’s service. His course was more trying than that of the others of our company, as he came among us when the impulse and enthusiasm which attach to the opening of a new work were beginning to fail, and before our experience had enabled us to lessen some of the trials and discomforts of a pioneer effort. A thorough American, appreciating and treasuring the memory of the civilization left behind, he yet readily adapted himself to the conditions here found. Of a sensitive nature, he keenly felt any roughness from friend or foe, but I never knew him on that account to show any bitterness or to shirk the performance of any recognized duty.
“Of those qualities which make for success in our field he had not a few. His social instincts led him at once to make friends among the Arabs, and while his vocabulary was still very limited, he would spend hours in the coffee-shops and in the gathering-places of the town. His exceptional musical talents also attracted and made for him many acquaintances among those he was seeking to reach, besides proving a constant pleasure to his associates and a most important aid in all our public services. And many a difficulty was surmounted by his hopefulness and buoyancy of disposition, which even pain and sickness could not destroy.”
His short period of service in Arabia was longer than that of either Keith Falconer or Bishop French and although their lives have perhaps exerted a much wider influence, his has left larger fruitage on Arabian soil. Of his sickness and death the Rev. H. N. Cobb, D. D., Secretary of the mission wrote:
“When the station at Muscat was opened in 1893 it was assigned to him. From that time until May of the present year Muscat was his home. There he remained alone most of the time. Frequent attacks of fever prostrated him, unsanitary and unpleasant conditions surrounded him, the heat, constant and intense, often overwhelmed him; still he clung heroically to his post, uttering no word of complaint, and quitting it only when mission business made it necessary, or tours were to be undertaken along the coast or in the interior, or when prolonged attacks of fever and the preservation of life made a limited absence imperative. When one considers all that he endured, the wonder is not that he died, but that he lived as long as he did. No higher heroism fought, suffered and at last succumbed at Santiago. He had become so much reduced by repeated attacks of fever and rheumatism that it was thought wise last year that he should leave Arabia and come home. His desire was to remain until next year, 1899, but in the early part of this year it became evident that he must not remain. When in the latter part of May he left Arabia, his weakness was so great that he was carried on board the steamer. On the homeward way, though writing back cheerfully concerning his improvement to those whom he had left behind, he grew gradually worse, and when he arrived in this country on the evening of July 12, was taken immediately to the Presbyterian Hospital through the kind assistance of a student for orders in the Roman Catholic Church. Those who have visited him there, and they have been many, have been struck by his cheerfulness, his hopeful courage, his anxious desire to recover, that he might return to his field and work, and yet his willing submission to his Father’s will.”
He clung to life with a grip of steel and laughed at the idea the doctors had of his approaching death because he could not believe that his work was done. “I have done nothing yet and when I go back this time I will be ready to begin work,” were his words. Yet he had no fear of death. His eye never turned away from Arabia; he longed to plant the plough once more in the stony soil of Oman and to teach the most ignorant the way of life. From his dying bed he sent to the committee a report regarding changes necessary in the house at Muscat. His hand, almost too weak to hold a pen, wrote on October 7th: “Dear father—I am slowly but surely improving and may be home soon. Now the board has authorized me to complete the building-fund. I have just secured $100 for a Muscat touring boat. Dr. and Mrs. Thoms sailed this morning for Arabia, laus Deo! I felt sorry I could not divide myself and go with them ... patiently longing I wait His time.”
Even later than this, when he could no longer write, he dictated letters regarding the work at home and in the field. On the evening of Tuesday, October 18th, 1898, six weeks after his thirtieth birthday he quietly fell asleep. “His time” had come. After a brief service, the body was taken by loving hands to Holland, Michigan, and laid to rest in the sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection. But his heart rests in Arabia and his memory will remain longest where he suffered most and where his fellowship was so blessed.
George E. Stone.
On the twenty-sixth of June, 1899, George E. Stone died of heat apoplexy at the coast town of Birka a few miles east of Muscat. On Thursday the twenty-second of that month, in company with a colporteur, he left Muscat, for a few days change. He was in fairly good health, although suffering from boils. Monday morning he had a little fever; in the afternoon it came again and in a few hours he had departed. His body was taken to Muscat by the colporteur and there buried near the grave of Bishop French.
Rev. George E. Stone was born on September 1st, 1873, at Mexico, Oswego County, New York. He was graduated from Hamilton College in 1895, and from the Auburn Theological Seminary in 1898. Toward the close of his studies his thoughts were drawn to the foreign field and he became a “student volunteer.” The reason for his decision was characteristic of the man. As he himself expressed it in his inimitable five-minute speech at the General Synod: “I tried in every possible way to avoid going to the foreign field but I had no peace. I go from a sense of obedience.” He first heard of the special needs of Arabia through a former classmate who represented Union Seminary at the New Brunswick Inter-Seminary Conference in November, 1897. Shortly after he wrote for information about the field, and without further hesitancy he applied and was accepted. Ordained by the Presbytery of Cayuga at Syracuse, he sailed with the mission party in August, 1898.
George Stone was a man of much promise; altogether a character of one piece without seam or rent. Sturdy, manly, straightforward, humble and honest to the core. He was entirely unconventional and did not know what it was to try to make a good impression. He was simply natural. With native tact and Yankee wit was joined a keen sense of duty and a willingness to plod. Confessing that he was never intended for a linguist he yet, by sheer application, made remarkably rapid progress in Arabic. He made friends readily and was faithful to sow beside all waters. No one could travel with him and not know that he was a fisher of men; yet he was never obtrusive in his method. He had a splendid constitution, and looked forward to a long life in Arabia, but God willed otherwise.
He was at Bahrein from October 9th until February 14th, when he left for Muscat to take the place of Rev. F. J. Barny, who had been ill with typhoid and was going on sick-leave to India. He was the only person available at the time, although it was not a pleasant task for a novice to be suddenly called to take care of a station of which he knew little more than the name. Without a word of demur he left Bahrein at three hours’ notice and sailed for Muscat. There he remained alone, but faithful unto death, until June, when Rev. James Cantine arrived to take charge of the work. His letters were always cheerful; he seemed to grasp the situation, and with all its difficulties to see light above the clouds. The following sentences from a few of his letters show what sort of man he was. They were written in ordinary correspondence and with no idea that the words would ever be treasured:
“I was pretty certain that I should be sent to Muscat later on, but had no idea of going so soon. However, it is all right. Anything that has been prayed over as much as your decisions at Busrah, must have been directed of God, and I have been under His orders for some time.... I have had two or three fevers, but they are small affairs, sick one day and well the next. No further news. I can only add my thankfulness to God for the way He has led me through the last two months and for giving me a share from the beginning in actual mission-work.... Many thanks for the report. I can learn a great deal from it to help out my ignorance. I do feel like a baby before this great work but, as the darkies used to sing the Lord is ‘inching me along.’ ...
“Pray for me that I may have wisdom and grace to carry this business through. I want it settled right.”
To his Auburn friends he wrote this in a characteristic letter:
“You ask what I think of it now that I am on the spot. First: that the need has not been exaggerated, and that Mohammedanism is as bad as it is painted. Second: that we have a splendid fighting chance here in Arabia, and the land is open enough so that we can enter if we will. If a man never got beyond the Bahrein Islands he would have a parish of 50,000 souls. Third: that on account of the ignorance of the people they must be taught by word of mouth and therefore if we are to reach them all, we must have many helpers. Fourth: that I am glad I came to Arabia, and that to me has been given a part in this struggle. I do firmly believe that the strength of Islam has been overestimated, and that if ever the Church can be induced to throw her full weight against it, it will be found an easier conquest than we imagine—not but what it will cost lives, it has always been so, but I do believe that Islam is doomed.”
Little did he think, perhaps, whose life it would first cost. Will his call be heeded and will the Church, will you, help to throw the whole weight of your prayers against Islam? “Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die it abideth alone, but if it die it bringeth forth much fruit.”