Chapter 5.
Perhaps no better evidence can be given of the genuineness of Hsi’s Christian life in those early days than the changed attitude of the community in which he lived. Neighbors know pretty well how a man lives, especially in China.
Only a year or two had elapsed since the whole circle of his acquaintance had turned against him, predicting all sorts of calamities as the result of his change of faith. But the logic of facts was beginning to convince them that his mistake had not been so serious after all. At any rate, as they could see, the man himself was brighter and better than he had been for years, his family relationships were happy, and his property well cared for. And more than this, there was a strange power about him, for all his new gentleness and quiet ways, an undefinable sort of influence, that all were conscious of but no one could explain. Not a little discussion was given to the subject on summer days and winter evenings, and the result was a growing respect for the Christian scholar, if not for the religion he professed.
The time was drawing near for the local election, to fill the coveted post of village elder, or chairman of the Parish Council. Matters of considerable importance were involved, for the headman was responsible for the gathering of taxes, the maintenance of law and order, the defense of local rights, the care of temples and public buildings, and of the festivals proper to each season of the year. Energy and experience were required, and moral rectitude according to Chinese standards. In fact, the more they considered the question, the more it was evident — yet surely that was preposterous! But there was no getting out of it. And little by little, opinion became unanimous that no one was more suited to fill the post than the scholar Hsi, now that he was no longer an opium smoker.
It was a strange conclusion to come to, but the Chinese are sensible people, and the practical value of Christian principles had not been unobserved. So the chief men of the village arranged an interview with Hsi, and laid before him the surprising request that, for the well-being of the neighborhood, he would sacrifice himself so far as to assume the headship of the community.
“But, revered elders,” exclaimed the scholar, “have you forgotten that I am now a Christian, and disqualified to serve you, much as I should value the privilege?”
“That is a private affair of the conscience,” replied his Neighbors, embarrassed, “and need not enter into the present question.”
“You must also have noticed, honored sires, that your younger brother is continually busy about the affairs of the Church of Jesus Christ. Day and night I have no leisure for ordinary business, nor does there remain with me any desire to enter into worldly affairs, however dignified the position.”
But refusals were all unavailing. With one consent the election was made, and Hsi was informed that it was now an accomplished fact.
“If you really desire me to accept this office, Honorable fathers,” he replied, “there are two stipulations upon which I must insist.”
“Only impose commands,” they protested. “Whatever you say shall be law.”
“Gentlemen, you are too courteous. My first stipulation is, that under no circumstances can I have anything to do with sacrifices in worship of the idols, or with the festivities of the temple and seasons. I will at all times pray to the living God for the prosperity of the village, and for abundant harvests. But I can do nothing that would compromise the honor of His name.”
To Hsi’s surprise, this condition was readily agreed with; for among themselves the village authorities had already prepared for such a contingency. They had not failed to observe that Hsi’s prayers in the name of Jesus were remarkably effective, and they were quite willing that he should seek on their behalf the favor of his God.
But his second stipulation was most unexpected. “Honorable fathers,” he continued, “listen to my final word. Should I accept this office, not only will I refrain, myself, from all sacrifices to idols, but I must require that the entire village take the same position. If you will close the temple completely, and promise that no public worship of the gods be held throughout the year, then, and then only, can I consent to serve you.”
Perturbed and excited, the assembly broke up, crying, “Alas, this condition is impossible! It is indeed out of the question. We cannot agree.”
“Then, gentlemen,” replied Hsi gravely, “neither can I agree to your proposals.”
For a time the result was uncertain, but when Hsi was again called to meet his Neighbors, he found them prepared to accept and enforce his proposal.
It was a strange anomaly; but all went well. Hsi did his best, and was very prayerful. At the close of the year it was found that the affairs of the village had never been more prosperous, and the headman was re-elected on his own terms.
Again he undertook the work as to the Lord, with the result that harvests were good, money matters successfully dealt with, and peace and contentment prevailed. Naturally the election went in his favor a third time with acclamation. Nothing was said about any change of basis, and again Hsi consented to serve them. For three whole years the temple was closed, and no public festivals were held in worship of the gods. And yet the village prospered.
At the close of the third year Hsi was once more unanimously chosen. But by this time his evangelistic and other labors had so increased, that he could no longer properly attend to the needs of the community. Courteously but with decision he refused the office, and when congratulated upon the service he had rendered, smilingly replied that perhaps the village had been saved some needless expense, adding: “By this time the idols must be quite starved to death. Spare yourselves now any effort to revive them!”
It was a practical lesson, not easily forgotten.