Chapter 13.
It was the summer of 1885, just before wheat harvest, when news reached the Western Chang village that made Hsi’s heart rejoice. For months the mission house in the city had been forsaken, and the Christians of Southern Shan-si deprived of foreign supervision. Hsi, Song, and the others had done their best; but it was hard work, and they had sadly missed the encouragement of more experienced leaders. And now reinforcements were on the way. Four young men, accompanied by one of the older members of the mission, were expected shortly, to take up residence at P’ing-yang.
It means much to a native church, and especially to its leaders, when new missionaries are put in charge of a district, even more than the appointment of a new minister to a congregation at home. In the latter case, if he is not specially helpful, there are other preachers and services, but in the former there is no resource. It is almost like giving parents to a family of children. For the prosperity and happiness of the native church, humanly speaking, depend upon the character of the man who is over them in the Lord. They can have no one else, at any rate in inland stations, and what he does not bring of wise and loving helpfulness they have to do without. Hsi had known David Hill, his ideals were high, and it was with thankful expectancy he looked forward to welcoming the strangers.
They also were specially interested in the prospect of meeting him. Drawn from English universities and the ranks of popular professions, the young missionaries had left wide opportunities for usefulness at home. The work to which they had devoted their lives was toilsome and often discouraging, and especially at first there was a good deal that was uncongenial in the new surroundings. Dressed in the loosely fitting garments of the country, hampered by long gown and flowing queue, unfamiliar with the strangely sounding language, restricted by formal customs and conservative ideas, and burdened above all with a new realization of the sin and suffering of heathenism, the young men were beginning to understand something of the cost of the enterprise for which they had forsaken all the world holds dear. But to help in saving men like Hsi, and for the love of Jesus, that He might see of the travail of His soul and be satisfied, they counted it all joy. Tidings of the work in Southern Shansi and of its native leader had reached them, welcome proofs of the power of the Gospel they had come to bring. And now, Western civilization left far behind, they were traversing the central uplands of that very province on their way to the scene of his unwearied labors.
It was a beautiful journey from the capital through that summer land. Amid the gold of ripening harvests, rich fields of opium poppy were in flower. Surrounded by trees and greenery, countless villages dotted the plain, while here and there a city of importance reared its ancient wall. Still traveling southward, the populous plain was left behind, until a double range of mountains closed in upon the road and river, and rock hewn passes had to be surmounted, where the torrent raged in foamy whiteness far below.
The evening of the sixth day’s journey brought the travelers to Hoh-chau, where the Refuge made possible by Mrs. Hsi’s gift had recently been opened. Resting there over Sunday, they had good opportunities for preaching, as also at Chao-ch’eng the next evening, in spite of the crowding and intense curiosity of the people. The day following saw them at Hung-tung, five miles only from Fan’s village, in the midst of a district that was to become familiar to some of them ere long.
Already good progress had been made by the new arrivals. They were fairly proficient in the use of chopsticks, and were learning, among other things, that time and patience are commodities of which one must possess a full supply. If in a mud hole, for example, or on some especially bad bit of road, the heavy, springless carts were overturned, the drivers would sit down and smoke a pipe or two before attempting to get things straight again and continue their day’s journey. Or in a narrow gully, when they chanced to meet a northbound caravan, the respective carters, after a friendly smoke, would probably proceed to clean the clogged wheels of their vehicles before coming to the important question as to which should back out and concede the right of way.
South of Hung-tung indications were not lacking of the activity of Hsi and his fellow workers. There, on the last morning of their journey, Mr. Stanley Smith, walking on ahead of the party, was met by a Chinaman who grasped his hand in Western fashion, greeting him most cordially.
The young missionary at once concluded that this must be a Christian, and mustering the little Chinese at his command, said inquiringly, “Je-su-tzh men-eu?” A disciple of Jesus?
To which his new friend with the shining face replied, “Je-su-tih men-t’u,” in a tone that meant volumes.
Then shaking hands all round, he led the travelers to a little rice shop by the wayside, and insisted on providing bread and millet gruel, the only refreshment obtainable. After this he carried them off to his home for their midday meal, saying that they were expected, for he had been watching for their coming and knew they must be near.
“How could you know that?” inquired Mr. Bailer. “Our journey has only recently been planned.”
“Oh, we were sure of it,” was the smiling reply, “because we have been asking the Lord so earnestly to send us missionaries without delay.”
“All the people in this valley,” he continued, as they neared his village, “are giving up their idols. There is a great deal of work for you to do.”
While dinner was preparing, friendly neighbors dropped in, and an impromptu service was held which greatly encouraged the new arrivals. It was their first meeting with Christian brethren in South Shan-si; and though they understood but little of what was said, they were fully able to appreciate the loving spirit and heartiness of it all.
But it was not until they reached P’ing-yang that Hsi himself was met with. Then, hardly had they settled in, before, leaving the claims of home and harvest season, he hastened across the plain to bid them welcome. It was a meeting to do one’s heart good; the beginning of lifelong friendships.
To Hsi it was a new experience, for he had never met young missionaries before who could not speak the language, nor an older worker quite so familiar with its use as Mr. Bailer. Already they were the objects of no little curiosity in the city, and their visitors were numbered by the hundred. It almost amounted to a levee, those summer evenings, when scholars, merchants, and farmers, young men and old, thronged the courtyards to watch the new arrivals and listen to Mr. Baller’s eloquent Chinese.
“When it grows dark,” they exclaimed with astonishment, “not one in a hundred would suppose that he is a foreigner.”
It was an excellent opportunity for preaching, and Hsi was delighted with the spirit in which the young missionaries put themselves at the disposal of the people. He was a good judge of character, and quick to prize indications of this sort. And yet, with such limitations, how little he could really understand and appreciate his new friends. Still less could they see in him all that was to draw out their love and admiration in years to come.
For Hsi was not impressive at first sight. To the young missionaries he was just a quiet, scholarly man of medium height and slender figure, dressed in a simple blue cotton or white muslin gown. The only thing that might have attracted attention was the power of his glance; for his eyes were keen and commanding, in spite of a slight cast that disfigured one of them.
A little later they met again, this time in Hsi’s own home, where he was seen to better advantage. It was no small matter, even for him, to entertain so large a party of foreigners, and the excitement in the Western Chang village was intense. Men, women, and children thronged the narrow streets and ran on ahead of the strangers; so that when they rounded the last corner, and came in sight of Hsi’s gateway in a high blank wall, the crowd had announced their coming, and they received a royal welcome.
But the interest their visit occasioned was hardly greater than that of the young men themselves in this first experience of life in a Chinese home. The patriarchal household; the love and joy that seemed to overflow all hearts; the past from which these men had come, and their present occupations and prospects; the genial hospitality of their host, and his quiet but unquestionable authority, all combined in making an impression not easily forgotten.
But best of all was the evening hour of worship under the shining stars; the songs, the prayers, the earnestness with which Hsi led the meeting, and the Unseen Presence so consciously in their midst.
Next day was Sunday, and very early the visitors were awakened by pleasant commotion, as from all the neighborhood inquirers and Christians began to gather for the services. Dressed in clean summer garments, carrying hymnbooks and Testaments wrapped in gay colored handkerchiefs, group after group came in. And then, what eager interest in the new arrivals, and what delight in Mr. Bailer’s preaching, and all the tidings he brought from other parts of China!
Meeting succeeded meeting, until the young men could appreciate as never before the intelligence and capacity of a Chinese audience. But the climax was reached in Hsi’s address during the afternoon, delivered with animation and graphic power that made the scenes he spoke of live before his hearers. Thanks to notes taken at the time, the divisions of the sermon can still be recalled, giving some idea of the character of his discourses.
He rarely took a text, preferring as on this occasion a whole passage from which to draw his lessons. The subject was Paul’s shipwreck, and the points he made were as follows:–
1. The indifference of the unsaved: They pay no heed to the message of God through His servants; just as the centurion and the captain of that ship turned a deaf ear to the warnings of Paul.
2. The prosperous beginning of a course of sin: The south wind blowing softly.
3. The short-lived character of the sinner’s happiness: The wind and tempest soon arose.
4. The sinner’s futile efforts to save himself: Undergirding the ship and casting away the tackling.
5. The despair of the soul: Neither moon nor stars for many days appearing; all hope of rescue gone.
6. The need of perseverance on the part of God’s servants: Paul’s advice at length prevailed.
7. The final salvation of all who obey God, and trust His promises: The whole ship’s company brought safely to land.
It was tantalizing for the new arrivals that they could understand so little, and especially that they could not converse with their host between the meetings. But Hsi thought of a plan. Seeing them occupied in the evening over their Bibles, he quickly brought his own, and turned to passages expressing something of what was in his heart to say, to which the young men responded through the English rendering — so holding quite a conversation.
When springtide came again great progress had been made, and the new missionaries fully justified the surprise sometimes expressed by intelligent Chinamen, that a few months in their country should so wonderfully develop the silent foreigner. They had learned to talk and to walk, as well as to dress and feed themselves properly and already displayed a savoir-faire surprising even to their most cordial well-wishers.
All through the winter steady work at the language had made a wonderful difference; and by constantly living among the people they had become familiar with their usages.
Mr. Bailer, finding the whole district friendly and open to missionary work, had rented premises in three of the neighboring cities, and wisely scattered the young men, visiting them from time to time. Native Christians of experience were left with them, so that the crowds that came to see the foreigner might not go away without hearing the Gospel. Thus three new mission stations had been opened; one south of the Fu city, and two beyond the river, among the Western mountains. Blessing followed the winter’s work in each place, and in the opening months of 1886 new converts were ready to come up with their beloved missionaries to the great gathering in the mother station at P’ing-yang.
It was a glad reunion; and every heart beat high with thankfulness and hope. Scattered over a region as large as Wales, four mission stations, ten or a dozen refuges, and many village gatherings sent up their representatives. Hsi and his wife were there, and all the leaders of the older work; while full of joyous enthusiasm came the young men from the new stations, eager to introduce to the assembled Christians their brethren in the faith.
To Hsi it was intensely interesting to meet the new missionaries again, and see such fruit of their labors. Mr. Stanley Smith seemed specially to impress him. Something about his sunny temper, and the way he had of cheering and helping people, greatly attracted Hsi, and made him long for his co-operation in the refuge work. They were all men after his own heart, and the appreciation was mutual.
“Hsi is a man raised up of God,” wrote Mr. Hoste, “to shepherd the flock in this district. The Lord has given him authority in the sight of the people.”
With the missionary in charge, he and other elders of the church made all arrangements for the conference, and baptized over seventy inquirers from the outlying stations. There was unusual power in the meetings, which had to be held out of doors in spite of heavy rain, because no room was large enough for the assembly. After a seven months’ drought, the rain was sorely needed, and the Christians did not like to pray that it might cease. Sunday was drawing near, and threatening’s of a heavier downpour suggested that the company might have to be divided and the services held indoors.
“Let us not be concerned about that matter,” said Hsi quietly. “I have been asking the Lord to take away the rain for two days, while the conference continues. I feel sure we shall have a fine Sunday.”
And so it proved. The day was perfect. The meetings were held in the open courtyard as usual. And one hundred and twenty believers gathered around the table of the Lord.
New ideas and impressions were crowding fast upon the minds of the young missionaries, to whom all this was an inspiration.
“The conference was grand,” wrote one of their number. “To be permitted to see, so soon after one’s arrival in China, that which many holy and devoted men of God have toiled and prayed for all their lives but never witnessed — a living church in the heart of this poor, dark land — is a great responsibility as well as privilege.”