Ceylon by G. K. OWEN

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Tacoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jul 18, 1907

Ceylon

By G. K. OWEN

G. K. OWEN

After having spent about twenty months in Ceylon, I find myself again in India, at the sanitarium, 50 Park St., Calcutta. Believing that many will be interested to hear something more from this new field that has been slightly touched by the message, I have intended to write, but have not been in good writing condition for several months. After spending some time at the general hospital in Colombo, it seemed to take all the strength I had to get back to Calcutta. Here I have been slowly recovering, and have gained twelve pounds in weight. I can not blame the climate of Ceylon for any of the unpleasant experiences that I had there, for I never visited a climate that seemed more nearly perfect. The refreshing sea breezes along the coast seem very favorable to a climate of perpetual summer. Should any weary of the warm weather and desire to cool off, a few hours’ ride on the train will take him to some of the hill stations, where he finds it cool enough.

Elder Armstrong had preceded me to Ceylon several months, and had held many cottage meetings. Those who attended were interested; but the enemy of truth had been early laying his plans to fill the minds of the people with prejudice, to close their minds against the truth, before they had ever caught a glimpse of it. Some First-day Adventists had started a work on the island, and for some reason their work and their printing-press were left in the hands of a man who soon became so involved in debt that his creditors seized the publishing works that he had under his control. We were told that before any real Seventh-day Adventists arrived in the island, this man had assumed their name, and so his creditors began to call on us very soon after our arrival, and to ask us if we could arrange for the settlement of the debts, expecting to hold the entire Seventh-day Adventist denomination responsible for the debts. So the leaven of prejudice had blinded the minds of the people before the first note of the message had reached their ears; and the effect was manifest as soon as invitations began to call the people to come to hear the message.

When the tent arrived, many attractive-looking places seemed to be beckoning to us to come and pitch our tent; but when we talked with the owners of the land, we found no encouragement for a second talk. Finally our first choice was obtained without cost, and the tent was pitched and neatly arranged. We had quite a fair attendance for several evenings. But when the rains began, we found that wherever there were cross-seams, the water came pouring through the roof of the tent; and where the cloth was double, a sack of water soon filled much of the space. Some of the people attended quite regularly, though they had to search carefully for a dry place to sit.

It rained quite steadily for about twenty-one days; and by that time it was decided that we could not expect many to attend under such circumstances, and the tent was taken down. Elder Armstrong’s health failed, and he went to one of the hill stations for a while, and then decided to take the advice of physicians, and return to England. The only way open for continuing the work was by cottage meetings and Bible readings. As several had been convinced of the truth for quite a while but had not decided to obey, I did not feel clear to leave the place without further effort to bring them to a deciding point. Seven finally determined to obey.

Perhaps it may be of interest to mention some other means by which a very friendly interest was secured in a more public way. I made the acquaintance of a leading man among the Buddhists, and he made an appointment for me to deliver a lecture on phonography, before the Shorthand Writers’ Association. The large and appreciative audience assembled in the Library Hall were so interested that they were ready for other lectures on educational subjects. I gave them two lectures on memory, and interested them three other evenings in vocal expression, at the same hall, which was open and free for my further use, had I remained longer in Colombo. In response to very urgent invitations, I gave lectures at the Royal College and at Ananda College. The latter is the principal Buddhist college on the island, and the principal told me that I was the first Christian who had ever been permitted to speak in their college. They were so favorably impressed that I was invited to address the Buddhist Association, and they engaged for the occasion a larger hall than the one they had been using. I gave the scriptures on “What Is Man?” in four discourses. The chairman stated, before the audience, that the Christian religion had been presented in a more consistent light than they had ever heard it before.

Their association seemed to consist largely of highly intelligent people, well educated in the English branches, as well as in the native languages. They manifested their interest by hearty votes of thanks for the lectures. There seemed to be an open door among them, and I had hopes of doing further work among them, if it had been my privilege to remain upon the island. I have not given up all hope of returning to Ceylon sometime with improved health. Prejudice

seemed to have disappeared to such an extent that I had gained the confidence of the educated classes, and formed friendly relations among students and teachers. Some of them seemed quite interested to engage with me in Bible studies. Beating against the waves of prejudice is not good policy. Doing something for the good of the public wins friends.