III. Love and Life

The Mfantsipim National University had, about the time that these studies open, been already doing good work in Fanti-land. It had its origin in the national movement which swept over the country in the stormy days of 1897, when the people, as if moved by a sudden impulse, rallied round the Aborigines Society and successfully established the principle of land tenure under which the country has since thriven.

It had been felt for a long time by men of light and leading in Fanti-land that the salvation of the people depended upon education ; that to educate the youths of the country properly depended upon trained teachers; and that it was the work of a university to provide such training ground.

The people did not wait for endowments from the rich and the philanthropic, or for moneymaking syndicates to start the work; but quickly collecting a few enthusiastic young men, these went about from province to province and from village to village trying to instil into the commonalty what the country lost by the neglect of education. The people began to understand and to talk about the matter in the wayside places. So that when Jubilee Day came round, and from province to province throughout all the states of Fanti-land the gong-gong of the Amanliin went round for contribution by the people to the National Educational Fund, great was the enthusiasm of high and low, and there was not a hamlet throughout the land which did not send its fair share of contribution. Even the children threw into the Kruba in the market places their threepenny-bits.

Among the enthusiastic band who canvassed the educational question was Kwamankra, and none more ardently than he. He was a man of remarkable intelligence, who, receiving the best education the schools of those days could afford, had, by hard work and natural taste for booklearning, so impressed the community with his ability that at the age of nineteen he had been entrusted with the editorship of the national newspaper, and had already come to be regarded as one of the coming leaders of the people.

Upon the opening of the National University, Ivwamankra gave up newspaper work and joined the University staff. He was foremost in bringing forward schemes to prevent the work of the University becoming a mere foreign imitation. He kept constantly before the Committee from the first the fact that no people could despise its own language, customs, and institutions and hope to avoid national death. For that reason the distinctive garb of students, male and female, was national with an adaptability suggestive of the advanced state of society. It was recognised that the best part of the teaching must be done in the people’s own language, and soon several textbooks of known authority had, with the kind permission of authors and publishers, been translated into Fanti, thereby making the progress of the student rapid and sound.

The scheme involved, as it has been shown, the turning out of efficient teachers, and as the University was affiliated to that of London and in working correspondence with some of the best teaching institutions in Japan, England, Germany, and America, the work done was thorough. A young man or woman obtaining a certificate as a trained teacher was sure of work in any part of the country at a recognised salary. Upon arriving in a province, all that the teacher would have to do would be to present his credentials to the Secretary for Education of the Omanhin, who, having a list of districts ready for a teacher, would at once introduce the new-comer. Generally he would find a suitable school house with all necessary appliances, but not the children; and he would be given to understand by the Committee that whether the school house remained empty or filled depended upon his own energy and the interest he brought into his work, and, what was more, his rise to the maximum stipend would be the result of the maximum success expected. As a rule, the teachers were men who had their heart in their work, and the filling of the schools was a matter of two or three months.

The thirst for knowledge spread so rapidly that men and women took to attending night schools where they quickly picked up reading and writing in their own language, and such was the general eagerness for learning that translation work had become a distinct feature of the work of the University. Hence at the time that we made the acquaintance of Kwamankra, he was engaged upon derivative work in London. His health having given way somewhat as the result of excessively hard work, he had been recommended to go away for a bit, and taking advantage of the opportunity , he had visited Japan, Germany, and America to study their methods, winding up, as he planned out in his own mind, with a visit to England.

By this time the outlook of Kwamankra upon life was broadening; and the young man was beginning to cast in his mind the most useful avenue by which his life’s work could be best accomplished. While he thought upon these things, that Divinity which shapes our ends, whether we understand or no, was shaping matters in a way for Kwamankra that he could hardly anticipate. By a resolution of the University authorities, while in London, an offer came to him to continue his stay for a period of three years certain, for the purpose of superintending the publications of several standard works in the vernacular that the University had arranged to bring out. When the offer came, he at once closed with it, seeing therein a way to the fixing of his future career. And so the die was cast. Having private means of his own, he joined the University of Cambridge, read jurisprudence for a year, and having then joined the Inner Temple, had, at the time that we met him along Tottenham Court Road in the company of Whitely, settled down in London to read law in grim earnest. In the far-away home in Africa, where Kwamankra was born and bred, he had known a little orphan girl who attracted attention wherever she went by her simple, unaffected ways. She must have been under the ministration of some guardian angel, for if ever a person grew in favour with the gods and men, it was she. Daily she was to be seen in the temples of Nanamu, and no one was more attentive, or worried the old priest afterwards with such knotty questions. She was born well, and, having passed through a course in the University, was now visiting Europe for the first time to put the finishing touches to her education.

When Whitely parted with Kwamankra, the latter made his way to Holborn and wandered aimlessly down Oxford Street, his mind full of varied thoughts. He had always been a thinker, and this morning in his conversation with Whitely fresh avenues of thought had opened up in his mind which he wished to pursue undisturbed. As he watched the mighty procession of men, women, and children jostling one another, he was overwhelmed with a sense of the weariness which European civilisation had evolved for itself. But it was of the teaching of the Christian philosophy and its paradoxes that his mind was full. Was it not the Nazarene who said : “ Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest ” ? Had he given this people, who professed to be his followers, rest in their constant attempt to overreach one another, in the way they trampled upon one another unto fame and fortune? Again, he had called all his followers brethren, and was not his the injunction to go forth and teach all nations that all might be brethren? And, even now, the words of Silas tWhitely, Divinity scholar of Queen’s : “ What a strange question ! Our Lord born of an Ethiopian woman!” — again rang in his ears. What if bishops, prelates, in the direct line of Him, Who made Himself of no reputation, felt the same, and yet dared to propagate his gospel among the Ethiopian Gentiles ? Were there to be paradoxes all the way through? A religion which taught one thing, and practised another, was it worth following? And in his inmost heart he found himself thanking the gods that he was a poor benighted pagan according to the formula of the Church.

In the frame of mind in which Kwamankra was, he was in no temper to be disturbed; but as luck would have it, he had not gone far when he saw coming towards him a dark man, known among his fellows as the Professor. He professed all things, and knew nothing in particular. He was in reality Kwow Ayensu, a student of several years’ standing at the Charing Cross Hospital, to whom, as far as one could judge, the question of a medical or a surgical diploma was of a secondary consideration. Kwamankra dodged the Professor, and made for the opposite pavement. The Professor as promptly crossed over, and familiarly tapping him on the shoulder, said in a gruff voice, “ Hallo ! old fellow, how are you ? I have not seen you for quite an age ; and what is the meaning of cutting an old chum like this, eh? ”

Evidently there was no getting away from the Professor, and so Kwamankra resigned himself to his fate.

“ The fact is,” said Kwamankra, “ if you want me to be frank with you, I wanted to be alone. I was so enjoying myself before you interrupted me. I love to observe without being observed.”

“ Do you include in your observations that of humanity in general ?” dryly put in the Professor.

“ Yes,” replied Kwamankra. “ To me it is the most interesting study, and the best theatre I find to be these very pavements, the performers being the moving throng of men and women. To study humanity in this guise is to me the acme of intellectual pastime, and much as I would like a chat with you another time, I am really sorry you disturbed me.”

“ Your case,” said the Professor, “ is a simple one of cerebral contraction of the sympathies. Come with me, old boy, to the Argyle Rooms tonight, and I warrant you the finest study of humanity anywhere in London. You may notice without being noticed, and if you should feel inclined to thaw, by Jove ! you will have your work cut out. Some of the latest arrivals are rare bits, and they are the rage of all the young hounds, misnamed men. Do come with me.”

‘ ‘ I thank you for the kind invitation, but I am afraid I cannot come to the Argyle Rooms with you to-night, as I must catch the night train to Cambridge with a friend.”

“ Well, then, come with me to the York Hotel instead. It may be I shall be able to interest you, and, if you please, you may stand me a treat after. I hear some of you ’varsity chaps are very good that way. Your average rusty London student does not understand champagne suppers and that kind of thing.”

If it comes to that, Professor, we needn’t go all the way to the York Hotel. We can just drop in at Slater’s round the corner, and I will warrant you as good a lunch as you ever tasted. Come along now. I will take no refusal.”

It did not take much to persuade the Professor, and together they were soon seated at a wellappointed table in a comfortable corner. After 24: lunch the Professor said to Kwamankra, “ One good turn deserves another. I thought I would give you a bit of a surprise, but since the mountain would not come to Mahomet, I suppose he must go to it. The fact is, Mansa is in London, and is staying at the York Hotel with her father.” When Kwamankra called at the hotel the next day to pay his respects he was surprised to learn that, an hour or so previously, Mansa and her father had taken the train for Harwich on their way to the Continent. The girl had always expressed a desire to see the principal countries of Europe, and as her father had a little business in the south of Germany, she had coaxed him, on the plea that it yet wanted a fortnight before she would be due to enter college, to take her with him. So pleased she was with her German surroundings, that when her father was returning to London, she was loth to come with him ; and as she had always shown a decided inclination for music, it had been decided she should remain at school there for a year or two to pursue her studies.

Time passed and Kwamankra had no news of Mansa. All the Professor could tell him was that her father had returned to Africa, and the young lady was pursuing her studies on the Continent. In the meanwhile, Kwamankra was quietlyreading in the Temple. They were eventful years — those three short years in the heart of the metropolis. The science of jurisprudence had always attracted him. It opened to him vistas of justice and fair play between man and man, which strongly appealed to him. The influence of the stoical writings over the Roman jurists, producing a Law of Nations, showed him a way by which the nations of the earth, yielding to higher impulses, might mete out justice to the weak races of mankind. Moreover, the opportunity which it gave him of comparing the institutions and customs of his own country with other systems was an endless source of delight to him. Now was his opportunity to fit himself for the battle of life. He read, not for examinations, but for information. He drank freely from the vital springs of knowledge and found his soul satisfied. He could not help feeling that he had a call to duty, and that in the service of his race.

At the time of Kwamankra being called to the Bar he had invited to London for a day his friend .Whitely. After the ceremony they repaired to the Haymarket to hear Mr. Beerbohm Tree in the part of Hamlet. As the curtain did not rise till 8.30, and the evening was particularly fine, they walked down to the theatre from the Temple, and

c the conversation naturally turned upon Shakespeare’s masterpiece.

“ You know, Kwamankra, I have never forgotten the conversation you and I had three winters ago along Tottenham Court Road, and I have been going deeply into the matter. I have been comparing the worship of Osiris by the Egyptians of your own race, the Akkadian philosophy, the religions of Zoroaster, of Buddha, and of Confucius, the teachings of the Greek mysteries, and of the stoic writings, and the farther I have gone into the matter the more puzzled I have become as to the right of the people calling themselves Christians to a monopoly of divine light. And as to the term c heathen,’ I think it arrogant for any devotee of any one sect to apply it to another. There is as much sense in it as the ancient Greeks dubbing all others barbarians. Here we are to-night, for instance, going to hear a play written by one William Shakespeare, a Christian gentleman, who flourished in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. I dare say if I stood in the pit of the Haymarket to-night, and made an open statement that William Shakespeare was a gentleman, but I had my doubts as to whether he was a Christian, I would be hooted down and hissed out of the theatre. Yet a superficial reading of some of his works will convince you that his sentiments, if he wrote from his inmost self, which he must have done, great poet as he was, were far from those of a Christian. See how Hamlet nurses in his bosom a feeling of revenge so poignant as to find satisfaction in killing the wicked king only at a moment when he will fall with all his sins upon his head. It reads like the work of a heathen, and yet I dare not suggest that William Shakespeare was a heathen at heart.5’

Kwamankra burst into a hearty laugh.

“ Unless you have read Jevon to little purpose, you must admit that that argument is faulty. Yet I cannot help agreeing with you that the word * heathen 5 is a relative term, and perhaps your average Englishman has no right to call the average Ethiopian heathen. Ours was the cradle of civilisation, and that it had not the permanence that the Christian civilisation is likely to have does not make it any the less a civilisation ; and I, for one, feel nothing but pity for the kind of ignorance which scoffs at what it does not understand.” The speaker stopped somewhat abruptly, and eyed the listener curiously. After a second, he continued :

“ You know perfectly well, my good friend, that I am not a Christian. If not, what am I ? Perhaps delicacy may forbid you saying what you think. But, believe me, I am not ashamed to bo

c 2 called pagan, or heathen, or by any other such pet word. With all due respect to St. Paul, we worship that we do know. The fact of the case is, that from the days of the great teachers of Christianity you Christians have not taken the trouble to understand any other system but your own.”

“You know, Kwamankra, turning off the subject, I have taken my degree, and I am soon due for ordination,” said Whitely. “ But all these years the reason and the faith within me have been in such deadly conflict as to leave my senses reeling. Yet the die is cast ; I have given my name in to the Bishop ; I cannot look back for fear of breaking my mother’s heart.”

“ I am sorry for you, my dear friend,” said Kwamankra, “ but, perhaps, you don’t look at the matter from the broad point of view that an outsider can look at it. I know, of course, something of the religions of the past. I have studied our own Eastern systems and compared them with the system you Westerns have adopted, and find that one broad divinity as well as humanity runs through them all. You will grant, I think, that there was something that lifted man to God in all the systems you have named, and in others of which, as yet, you know nothing, and that some of the founders of these systems, such as Epictetus, Cleanthes, Buddha Gautama, were men whose *

ideals of self-suppression and communion with1 God were of no mean order. I am free to say that there is a marked difference between them all and the Christ, as much as there is a difference between the stoical writings and the Gospel of St.; John. Jesus Christ was a living, breathing, Godin-man personality, linking human son-ship with divine fatherhood. Buddha Gautama, for example, never truly realised his own son-ship with God as to reveal that relationship to man. He strove to pierce the secret of the universe, but never quite succeeded. Then as to reason and faith and the load of doubt — well, if you ask me whether the birth of Jesus Christ was a natural birth or a supernatural one, as an outsider, all I can say is, I don’t know, nor does it matter one jot whether it was the one or the other. Similarly, if you ask me whether He did ascend into Heaven with His bodily form, defying the law of gravitation, I say I don’t know, nor does it matter. But this I do know, that His life and work and His interpretation of the ways of God with man may so draw one to Him as brother, friend, master, and, through Him, to God as Father, Almighty Sovereign, Benefactor and Guide, and that should be enough for the average man whose object is not arrogantly to question high Heaven, but to make his way thither humbly and piously,’^ When they arrived at the theatre the curtain was just up, and, for a moment, they were engrossed in the simple setting of the play for which Mr. Beerbohm Tree is so remarkable in his Shakespearean representations. In Scene III., where Polonius utters the precept : “ Beware of entrance to a quarrel; but, being in, bear’t that the opposed may beware of thee,” Kwamankra, poking his friend in the rib, whispered, “ That is Christian sentiment with a vengeance.”

When the curtain next went up, Whitely drew the attention of Kwamankra to a bevy of dark girls with an elderly man, who seemed to be playing the part of chaperon, and who were soon joined by a couple of young men. Kwamankra followed the direction indicated by Whitely, and nearly jumped out of his seat with excitement.

“ What is it, Kwamankra? ” asked Whitely. “ You generally are so cool.”

“ Pardon me, but the fact is, I must introduce you at once. Those are my friends the Abans, and I am very much mistaken if the young lady at the corner is not Miss Mansa. Come along ! ” And he literally dragged Whitely after him.

The old gentleman saw the twain coming in their direction, and beamed all over with delight. He was a good-hearted soul, and loved to see the sons of Ethiopia acquit themselves honourably in LOVE AND LFIE. a strange land, and he had heard nothing but what was good of Kwamankra. The enthusiasm with which Kwamankra was greeted by his friends struck Whitely forcibly, and he did not at all notice the few seconds that passed before he was introduced.

During the interval, Mansa, who hated all crushes, preferred to remain where she was, so Kwamankra fetched her some refreshment, and stayed to talk to her.

“ So you deserted us for the Continent without a moment’s notice. It was really bad of you, and I hope you have made up your mind now to make full amends.”

“ Yes, I didn’t like the life here,” said Mansa. “ Somehow it didn’t suit me. Besides, I had no friends here, and as my father was going away, I felt I could not stay.”

“ You must have found Stuttgart congenial, to judge from the length of time you have been away. Your father has been telling me a little about it, and I hoped to hear more from you.’’

“ Oh ! that must be another time. See, the curtain is about to rise, and here come trooping in the Abans. You know we arrived only this afternoon by the Dover train, and met the Abans at the hotel ; and as they were coming to see Hamlet, my father thought it would be nice for us to come with them.” “ Now, that reminds me, by a stroke of ill-luck, I arrived at your hotel the day you left for the Continent half an hour too late, to find the bird had flown.”

Mansa felt a little confused; and just then the curtain rose.

The rest of the play interested Kwamankra little, and he was not at all sorry when cheer after cheer called Mr. Tree over and over again before the footlights to receive such an ovation as few artists have received before or since.

“ Mind you call before I leave for Africa,” said the old gentleman, as Kwamankra and Whitely said good-night.

The friends talked little on their way back to the Temple, and Whitely, divining what was passing in his friend’s mind, respected his silence. Before separating for the night, however, Whitely said, “ Allow me, Kwamankra, to thank you for giving me such an agreeable evening in such a cultured company. Your friends, by Jove, are a credit to Africa, and it makes me feel inclined to lead a crusade against narrowness and prejudice.”

“ Thank you so much. I am glad you think so well of my friends. I hope you will sleep well after all the day’s dissipation.” This, as Kwamankra showed his friend to his room. For the next few weeks, Mansa and Kwamankra saw a good deal of one another. From the first, there was a congeniality between the two which went to make all intercourse natural, pleasant, and spontaneous. It was as if they had known one another all their lives; and it seemed the most natural thing that henceforth their joint lives should run in the same tenor. One day, as the twain sat chatting over an afternoon cup of tea, Mansa fetched a letter from a writing-table and, carelessly spreading it out, said :

“ I forgot to tell you, when last you were here, that I have been offered the post of head-mistress of the junior classes of our home university. I am sure you will be delighted with the idea, for I am going to accept it, and my father agrees with me.” ‘ ‘ How can you think of such a thing ? ’ ’ burst out Kwamankra almost indignantly.

His manner was so sudden that Mansa could not possibly control herself.

“ Now, what have I done to call for such sharp treatment? ” she demanded firmly, yet playfully.

“ Forgive me, Mansa, if I have spoken with unwonted heat, only I was thinking — well, I was thinking you might teach me instead.”

‘ ‘ What an absurd idea ! How can I teach such a big, strapping fellow like you? ” said Mansa. “ Besides, you are so clever. Surely, you mock me.”

“ Believe me, my dear child,” and there was a slight tremor in the manly voice, “ I was never more in earnest in my life.”

Mansa seemed puzzled. After a little hesitation, she said :

“You call me ‘ child,’ and yet you would have me believe that I can teach you. Can you be serious? ”

“ Yes, I am quite serious. * And a little child shall lead them,’ ” he quoted. “ I was hoping,” pursued Kwamankra, “ that yours would be the task to teach me the way of duty, and that, when found, you would help me to tread it.”

“ But how do I know what your duty is ? tWho can tell better than yourself ? Moreover, the gods of our fathers can teach you it, if you need guidance. Don’t you know that, Kwamankra? ” “Yes, I know that. But this also I do know, that the gods are wont to make use of human instruments in approaching men. The Infinite finds expression in the finite, and the ideal is realised in the actual. And it has often occurred to me that the child-like hand that shall guide me through life’s labyrinthine ways is the self-same one that I now hold tenderly in my own.” She began to understand. She made an effort as if she would withdraw her hand. She hesitated, and the next moment she surrendered the other also.

“You will be my teacher, then?” asked Kwamankra, half-persuasively, half-triumphantly.

“ Yes,” she simply answered. “ So may the gods of our race help me ! 5 ’

As the days passed, the twain grew in that mutual understanding, the true basis of all happy unions. Now and again he would tell her of his prospects, which he laughingly said were nil, having inherited little else beyond a clear head and a willing heart for work, with which he hoped they would be able to forge their way in life together; to which Mansa would sweetly say that she wished she had a fortune to make things easy, but since she had it not, she would bring him the next best, a loyal heart and true, at which Kwamankra would chide her, and say that was the best of all.

Little by little, Mansa told Kwamankra all that had happened in her little life since the days he knew her as a child of ten.

“ You know,” she said, talking to him one day, “ I often invoked Nanamu that I might be permitted to travel to see a little bit of the world, and it seemed they heard me ; for soon after, my father took it into his head to visit Europe with me after 1 had successfully passed my examinations at our university. When we arrived here, the life of the people seemed to me artificial. Perhaps I could not have expressed my feeling then in those words, but, anyhow, I felt as if I was not in my proper element. Chance took me to Germany. I found things very different there — there, in the Black Forest, I got into direct touch with Nature; the song of the birds, the bleating of the lambs, the fragrance of the fields, all seemed so natural, and I said to myself : Here is my proper place; here the atmosphere wherein my nature may expand. iThe rest you know. And now, what think you of the result ? 5 ’

For answer, Kwamankra caressingly drew her nearer to his side.

Summer was waning into autumn, and the chrysanthemum and the sweet mignonette were in bloom, when the lovers decided upon marriage before returning to Africa, where Kwamankra was to start a practice. It was to be a simple affair, at which there were to be no bride’ s-maids or groom’s-men, and only the nearest friends were to be asked. Mansa appeared in church on the wedding-day in a simple African costume of her own design, tastefully got up, and when someone asked her the reason for her choice, she said she knew it would please her husband, and, besides, it answered best to her own conception of what was proper. And, “ so, these were wed,” to employ iTennyson’s words.

Kwamankra was not long in taking up the duties of life in grim earnest with his dear little wife to cheer and to comfort him. From the first success smiled upon them, either as the result of honest, strenuous effort, coupled with natural ability, or as a mark of the favour of the gods, or both. Gradually they built up a big practice, and by the time their little boy was able to toddle from room to room, and call “Fadder ! Mudder ! ” they had a sweet little home of their own, with plenty of flowers, and sunshine, and love, and God’s blessing. Five short, very short, happy years of mutual love and association, and then there came a cloud which, for the moment, seemed to Kwamankra’s breaking heart and tearful eyes without the silver lining; for, with the advent of their second born, a sweet baby girl, Mansa, poor wife and mother, paid with her life for that of her child, who, as though she could not stand the gloom she had brought to this once bright home, soon joined her mother, and made the former gloom twice gloomier, and father and son were alone with a twice two-fold bond of love between their souls and the souls of those that had gone before. And when his little boy of three asked Kwamankra : “ Where is ‘ Mndder? 5 ” or “ Where is Sissie? ” he would say : “ ‘ Mudder ’ is gone to God, or Sissie is gone to God,” as the case might be, and would turn aside his face, lest his little one might know the full extent of their woe.