Chapter 18.
“Above all that ye ask or think.” Yes, but not always just as we expect it. The blessing comes for which the Holy Spirit inspired prayer. But sometimes only through travail of soul little dreamed of when we prayed. “We went through fire and through water: but thou broughtest us out into a wealthy place.”
The conference was over. And the Hung-tung mission house, crowded only a few days before with glad multitudes, seemed silent and deserted. The Refuge patients were there, and Pastor and Mrs. Hsi, who, according to Mr. Stanley Smith’s proposal, were now fully in charge of the station. But the missionaries had left, and their places were sadly empty. Feeling the need of quiet for further study impossible in their own district, they had engaged a teacher at the capital, and were there for the summer months. So Hsi was left alone as he had not been for more than a year, since Mr. Stanley Smith first joined him.
Then it was the storm broke: a change so startling as to be almost incredible had one not known something of the disaffection that for months had been leading up to it. It came as a sudden outbreak, followed by years of trouble, in which it seemed at times as if Hsi and all his work must be engulfed. But in the end evil was overcome of good.
Far from anticipating anything of this sort, Hsi was enjoying a new experience that promised a little lessening of the toil and weariness of previous years. Instead of being away somewhere on the outskirts of his orbit, or even in his busy home at the Western Chang village, he was resting, comparatively, at the center of things, superintending all the work from Mr. Stanley Smith’s own quarters at Hung-tung. This was just what the missionaries had wished and planned. He could keep in touch with all the Refuges better so, and have more quiet time for thought and prayer, leaving to Elder Si many of his former duties.
But this very change, desirable though it was in many ways, precipitated the crisis, stirring into flame the jealousy and discontent that smouldered in some hearts. This was partly due to Hsi’s own attitude; partly to circumstances over which he had no control. As indicated already, the public recognition of his gifts and unusual service by the heads of the Mission had excited dissatisfaction among a few of his fellow workers. As long as he was on their own level, they were content to follow him; but the moment he was placed above them, though it was a change only in name, they were filled with envy and suspicion. The break must have come sooner or later. For some of these men, not content with Hsi’s more spiritual aims, were bent on moneymaking and personal advancement. But the opportunity he gave them at this time, by lack of tact and humility, no doubt made matters worse.
On Mr. Stanley Smith’s leaving the station, for example, when Hsi moved into his rooms and took charge of everything, he gave out in perfect good faith that this change was of the nature of compensation for much that had gone before — part of the hundredfold reward “in this present time.” He went so far as to preach one Sunday from the text, “Now is the Son of Man glorified,” expounding it primarily in its right connection, but showing also how the principle works out in human experience and instancing his own. Possibly there was a measure of truth in the conception; and Hsi’s idea, no doubt, was mainly spiritual, to magnify the grace and faithfulness of God. But the Chinese mind is ready to jump to conclusions, and soon slips out of metaphor into actual fact. It did not take Fan and the others long to materialize that sermon, and conclude that Hsi was glorying over them on account of his comfortable quarters rent free, the confidence of the missionaries, and the honor of his position. They judged him by themselves, and were furious accordingly.
Already they had drifted away from the Lord in heart. Fan especially had gone back in spiritual things. As an elder he had considerable influence in the church, and, supported by Elder Chang and one of the P’ing-yang deacons, had succeeded in drawing together a strong party composed of all the ambitious or discontented spirits in any way connected with Hsi’s work. Magnifying every real or fancied grievance, they were covertly opposing his influence throughout the district; poisoning the minds of many who, left to themselves, would never have had a thought against the man to whom they owed so much. Familiar with every detail of the Refuge work, they planned to break with Hsi, carrying with them as many of his trained men as possible, and open opposition establishments on their own account, in which religious matters should have a secondary place. By underselling Hsi with medicines made from his far famed prescriptions, they hoped to bring about a crash in his financial affairs and ultimately supplant him on his own ground.
It took some time to raise sufficient capital and foster enough bitterness of feeling to carry through the undertaking. But circumstances were not wanting that could be misrepresented to Hsi’s detriment. Their anger grew to hatred as they nursed it. And finally the absence of the missionaries and the unfortunate sermon supplied the occasion and stimulus required. By that time Fan and his associates seem to have determined not only to ruin Hsi’s work and reputation among outsiders, but to destroy, if possible, his influence with the missionaries as well, and drive him from his position in the church.
The plan was well worked up, and culminated in an open attack on the Hung-tung Refuge. It was a tempestuous scene. Led on by Fan, Chang, and the deacon, an angry crowd took possession of the premises, hoping to intimidate Hsi, whom they knew to be practically alone, and get him into their power. Abuse and calumnies fell thick and fast.
Fan, armed with a sword, was the most frenzied. He had always been a man of violent passions, and now was beyond control. Above all the noise and confusion his bitter accusations could be heard: “You were thick enough with us in the old days, all to attain your own ends. You used me as a ladder to rise upon. You kept us all away from the foreigners while working yourself into favor. Now they come along and make you a great man. You lord it over us! You are better than we are I You grow rich on their favor, and want to dish us all out of our places. Very well then! Settle up accounts. Pay us off for all our services in the past. Stand alone if you can. But we will make it hot for you.”
Quietly Hsi faced the storm, knowing well that his life was in danger. He could not escape. He could not make himself heard. But for the restraint of more sober men, Fan would have attacked him on the spot with his formidable weapon. He was practically their prisoner.
At last, seeing there was nothing more to gain at Hung-tung in the absence of the missionaries, the whole crowd fell upon him and drove him out of the Refuge, crying: “Down to P’ing-yang. Down to P’ing-yang. We will see what the Foreign Superintendent has to say. The case shall be put into his hands.”
Off they hurried to the southern city; and some hours later rushed into the mission house, hot and dusty from the journey, and even more excited than at the beginning. Mr. Bagnall, taken by surprise, could not think what had happened until he found himself surrounded by a mob of Hsi’s accusers almost ready to take the life of their hapless prisoner. Try as he might he could not quiet them, and for a long time could not even arrive at their demands. In the midst of it all, the fact that chiefly impressed him was Hsi’s perfect calmness and self-control.
“The grace he showed was wonderful,” Mr. Bagnall wrote afterward. “But while those men were raving round us, I felt as if in hell.”
At length, with courage and patience, the missionary succeeded in quieting the uproar, and demanded of Fan and his company an explanation. This called forth all their accusations, which were carefully gone into. The discussion went on for hours, until Mr. Bagnall thought a temporary settlement had been reached. He was anxious to get Hsi out of their hands, and had a horse waiting to carry him to a place of safety. But no sooner was a move made to terminate the proceedings than Fan, with his sword drawn, rushed at Hsi, and the turmoil began all over again.
Seeing then that it was no use talking any longer, Mr. Bagnall beckoned Hsi to escape, and himself seized Fan, who, with his sword drawn, would have pursued him. It was a dangerous moment. But the attention of the crowd was held by the missionary’s courageous action, until the horse had time to gallop away.
Thus commenced the sad breach that divided the Hung-tung church. There was no further attempt at personal violence, for Fan and his party soon saw that nothing could be gained by such tactics. But they continued the fiercest opposition; accusing Hsi of every evil for which they could find the slightest pretext; openly defying his authority in his own Refuges; and seeking to make trouble for him on every hand.
With money borrowed for the purpose, they rented houses as near as possible to Hsi’s Refuges in more than twenty places, and opened opposition establishments on lines they knew he disapproved. They used his medicines and his methods, underselling his prices even at the risk of their own financial position. And, worst of all, they employed men of disreputable character, anybody and everybody who would come to them, dragging the fair reputation of the Refuge work in the mire. These agents they sent out far and wide to sell Hsi’s well known medicines everywhere. This they knew would touch him in a tender spot, for, regardless of profit, he had always refused to supply the medicine to those who were not willing to come into the Refuges, and so place themselves under Christian influence.
And for a time Hsi’s enemies flourished. Fan and Chang especially were men of weight, and had local knowledge. Their Refuges succeeded, and their medicines went like wildfire. Outsiders who had been wanting to get hold of Hsi’s prescription for years, now made the most of the opportunity. It seemed as though the work of the original Refuges was hopelessly undermined throughout the district. Among the church members, too, they worked hardly less havoc. The evident success of their enterprise was a great perplexity to many. Those who remained true to Hsi had expected immediate judgment to fall on the offenders. And when, on the contrary, they grew bolder and more prosperous, their plausible reasonings seemed to gain in weight.
Slowly that painful summer wore away. Poor Hsi suffered more than words can tell. Most of his helpers stood by him bravely, and it was no little compensation to discover the love and loyalty of many a true man. But they and he together had to go through the furnace. And at times it seemed as though the protecting hand of God were withdrawn, and the devil permitted to do his utmost to wreck the work.
For in the midst of the Fan troubles terrible complications arose in other directions also, and from the strangest variety of causes. Disasters occurred in all the leading Refuges, any one of which would have been serious alone. While his enemies prospered, he was compassed with distresses, “weighed down exceedingly,” with a succession of trials such as he had never known before. But as the sufferings abounded, so also the consolation. In those dark days Hsi was brought to an end of himself and all human resources, and learned the deeper meaning of that “sentence of death in ourselves” that drives us to trust “not in ourselves, but in God which raiseth the dead.”
“Who delivered us from so great a death,” he was enabled to say, “and doth deliver: in whom we trust that he will yet deliver us.”
It was really wonderful how, in answer to prayer, he was sustained through all that difficult time. Over and over again the adversary seemed permitted to do his worst; and then, at the critical moment, the Lord interfered to succor His servant.
The Chinese have a proverb full of significance, that indicates one way in which Hsi suffered at this time:
Living, a blade of grass:
Dying, a mine of wealth.
An ominous saying, indicating the frequency with which it happens that a man who during his lifetime was insignificant as a blade of grass, by his death becomes a source of enrichment to unscrupulous relatives.
There being no registration of deaths in China, and no post mortem examinations, the people have a rough-and-ready method of their own for checking foul play, especially in the treatment of disease by so called physicians. All over the country there is an unwritten law, strengthened by avarice and suspicion, that those persons are responsible for a death, on whose premises or in whose neighborhood it occurs, and they have to meet all expenses accordingly. This affords an opportunity for levying blackmail to almost any extent; the rapacity of the relatives being only limited by the resources of the family or individual at their mercy. Hsi, through the very character of his work, was always liable to troubles of this kind. But so remarkably was he prospered, that only seven or eight deaths occurred in his Refuges during all the years he was responsible for them. Each marked a crisis of a serious nature. And strange to say, several happened at this particular time.
One of the most painful took place at the Hung-tung Refuge, in the case of an old gentleman, patriarch of a large and influential clan. His cure, up to that point, had been making satisfactory progress, watched with no little interest by relatives who visited him from time to time. As the accustomed supply of opium was diminished, an old malady began to reassert itself, causing the patient a good deal of discomfort. No serious consequences, however, were anticipated, or would have supervened.
But one day a young fellow of some wealth and position in the neighborhood, strolled into the Refuge and found his way unnoticed to the old gentleman’s room. The young man was a backslider, and had no friendly feeling for Hsi or his work. In course of conversation he found that the patient was not particularly comfortable, and began to recommend some medicine of his own, warranted to cure just such disorders as his.
Unsuspectingly the old man took the pills, which apparently were poisonous, for in a short time he was writhing in agony. The Refuge keeper was sent for, and only after much anxiety was the sufferer gradually relieved.
In the course of the evening, however, the young man slipped in again and, unaccountable as it may seem, persuaded his victim to take another dose.
“You can see,” he said, “how strong and effectual this remedy must be. A small quantity has set up radical action at the seat of trouble. How much more would be accomplished by a larger supply!” This reasoning seemed unanswerable. The old gentleman actually took a double portion of the pills. And before morning, in great suffering, he died.
It was a serious catastrophe, and almost overwhelmed poor Hsi, who was then in the mission house. What was to be done? The news would be all over the town in no time. And who would credit facts so strange, against the plausible story his enemies could easily trump up? Word must be sent at once to the relatives. Transported with grief and rage, the whole clan would probably come down upon the Refuge — and there was no telling what might be the result. Public opinion would only justify them if they beat the Refuge keeper within an inch of his life, and exacted an enormous sum of money, in lieu of destroying the premises. And how about the other patients? What attitude would they take in the matter? And meanwhile, as to practical arrangements, what was to be done? The Refuge was full. He did not dare to move, or even touch the body of the dead man until the relatives appeared. It would be necessary to find other accommodation; unless, indeed, all the patients went off in a body.
The complications could hardly have been more threatening. Crying to God for help and deliverance, Hsi sent off a messenger to the family of the deceased, and went over to the Refuge to see what could be done. To his surprise, no outburst of indignation greeted him. On the contrary, the patients seemed friendly and unperturbed. And on Hsi’s suggesting their removal to other quarters, they said there was no need to trouble, they did not mind particularly, and would just stay where they were.
This was most encouraging; and with renewed faith, Hsi gave himself to prayer and fasting. All that day and all the next he waited upon God for the help that He alone could give. Meanwhile no word came from the relatives, which was exceedingly ominous. It looked as if they must be gathering together in force to make an attack upon the Refuge. Never had Hsi experienced quite such anxious suspense as when a third day followed and still there was no sign. And all the while the dead man was lying there uncoffined and alone.
At length the long anxiety culminated in the arrival of some of the sons. Hsi went out to meet them; and was almost taken aback to find them quiet and reasonable. Gradually it appeared that they had been detained by consultation with various members of the clan, and had now come in a conciliatory spirit to dispose of the matter quietly. This was a wonderful answer to prayer, and astonished the Christians almost as much as onlookers. The young fellow who had caused all the trouble was still in the Refuge, not having been allowed to escape. He undertook to pay half the funeral expenses, Hsi bearing the other half, and was delighted to get off so easily. Hsi sent for a suitable coffin, and arrangements were made for removing the remains at once.
It all happened so quietly that, but for the local policeman, the neighbors would hardly have noticed that anything was going on. This official, however, was furious. He had been expecting a big affair that would bring him several strings of cash. Greatly put out at this unlooked for termination, he went to work at once and paraded the streets of the city, crying at the top of his voice that iniquitous proceedings were on foot; he would be no party to foul play in the district; the funeral must be stopped at once.
But shout as he might, no one paid much attention. It was harvest time, and people were busy with their own affairs. The coffin was brought, and the body removed. No crowd collected. And the cart passed safely out of the city. It just seemed as though the Lord Himself shut the lions’ mouths. How often He has done it: praise be to His name.
It was just such evidences as these that he was not forsaken, that helped Hsi on through all that difficult time. Circumstances around him were often black as night. But he grasped a strong Hand in the darkness, and learned to trust the voice that said, “Look not around thee: for I am thy God.”
Another experience of a similar nature took place in the Hoh-chau Refuge about this time.
From a village in the neighborhood, a poor opium smoker had been brought, whose sad, dark life seemed drawing to a close. He was very ill, and in no condition to undergo the treatment. But his relatives, more concerned about making a little money, if possible, than about his wishes in the matter, insisted on taking him to the Refuge. If the Christians could cure him, so much the better; and if not, he would die on their hands and the expenses of a funeral would be spared.
So the poor fellow was carried to the city, too ill to care what became of him. Hsi was not in Hoh-chau at the time, and the refuge keepers, over persuaded, took him in. It seemed such a pitiful case. The journey had been made with great difficulty; and the friends were so anxious to have him under Christian influence.
For some days they did their best, but the patient did not improve, and they soon saw that the end was drawing near. Filled with distress and consternation, they were about to send for Hsi when he unexpectedly arrived at the Refuge. The news was a heavy blow, coming at a time when he was sore pressed with other trouble. But the patient was still living; and without stopping to take food, Hsi went at once to the room to fight out the battle upon his knees. He was deeply moved with pity for the sufferer, as well as with anxiety on account of the difficulties his death might involve. But still more he was burdened by this fresh evidence of the long continued and terrible opposition of Satan, whose power lay behind it all.
Hour after hour he prayed on, doing what he could medically as well. By degrees, to his unspeakable relief, a change became evident, and hope revived in the hearts of those who were watching.
“He is better. He is certainly recovering,” they whispered. “All will be well.”
Just then, as Hsi was beginning to feel reassured, a messenger arrived in haste, begging that he would go at once to the other side of the city to save a woman who had become suddenly possessed by evil spirits.
“She is dying! No one can do anything to relieve her. For pity’s sake, implore the teacher Hsi to come quickly.”
Hsi’s first impulse was to start immediately. Then his thoughts reverted to the sick man. How could he leave that bedside? He looked up for guidance. And as he prayed a strong sense came over him that trouble was near.
“Is it just a device of the devil,” he questioned, “to get me away from this room? As long as I am praying here, in the name of Jesus, he can do nothing. And yet, if I do not go, that woman may die, and the Lord’s name may be dishonored.”
It was a sharp struggle. But it ended in his committing his patient to the care of God; and for the honor of his Master’s name responding to the call of what seemed a greater need.
The woman was raving wildly as he drew near the house. A crowd had collected, and the excitement seemed greater than usual. The people knew that Hsi had been sent for, and were eager to see what would happen. As he entered the room, a strange thing took place. The woman’s cries and struggles ceased. She straightened herself, and sat up, saying hurriedly “I know I have to go. It is all right. I know who you are, and will not make trouble.” Then, as he came nearer, “I am going. I am going. Only grant me one request.”
“What do you desire?” said Hsi, surprised.
“Oh, nothing,” she answered quickly, “as long as you do not mind my following you.”
Taken off his guard, Hsi made no objection. In the excitement of the moment, he hardly even realized what had been said. Thankful only that matters seemed to promise well, he cried to God to have mercy on the woman; and in the Name that is above every name, commanded the devil to leave her.
With a long deep shudder the woman came to herself; and looked about her, wondering. When Hsi saw that normal consciousness had returned, he earnestly besought her to turn from sin and become a believer in Jesus. Then hastened on his homeward way.
Not until he had gone some distance was he conscious of what had happened. Then a terrible oppression crept over him, and he became aware of a closely attending presence that filled him with horror. Never before had he known such an experience. He dreaded to arrive at the Refuge, and yet was most anxious to return to his patient. At the door they told him that the sick man was doing well. This encouraged him to enter. Hardly had he done so, however, before the patient became uneasy, and took a decided turn for the worse. He continued to sink rapidly, and in a few hours died.
Sorely distressed, Hsi cast himself on God, while a messenger went out to the village. Gradually a strange calmness filled his heart; and though he still continued fasting, he was able to praise as well as pray for deliverance. At nightfall the friends of the young man appeared, and word was brought that his father was with them. The wailing and commotion in the Refuge were not reassuring. But hoping for the best, Hsi went out.
What was his surprise, on entering the front courtyard, when the old father tottered feebly up to him, and falling on his knees began to protest that he knew nothing of the affair, and was no party to the wrong doing of his family.
“They are all bad sons,” he cried, “every one of them. They will surely kill me with trouble. I was away from home, sir, when they brought their brother to your honorable Refuge. I pray you pity an old man, and be not too hard upon their offenses.”
With astonishment Hsi raised him from the ground, and listened to their story. Then, finding they were really poor, he offered to help with the funeral expenses. The old man was more than grateful; and the sons, who seemed thoroughly frightened, undertook to have the remains removed before morning. This was done. In the early twilight Hsi saw them depart, and returned to give thanks with the Refuge keepers, and to trust more implicitly than ever “the God that worketh for him that waiteth for Him.”
And all the while that same strong Hand was working deliverance in the greater troubles. The Lord had not forgotten his tried servant, and before autumn gave place to winter the way began to clear.
The first real lightening of the burden was when Mr. Hoste came back to Hung-tung. Up at the capital the absent missionaries had heard of the attack made by Fan and his party and something of the trials that followed. But Mr. Stanley Smith was kept away by unavoidable circumstances; and not until some months had passed, could Mr. Hoste return to the station.
His coming, early in the fall, was the signal for a fresh outbreak, for the opposition was still at its height. Gathering his followers in strong force, Fan repaired to the Hung-tung Refuge, and when Mr. Hoste arrived he found them in possession, intent upon gaining his countenance and sympathy for themselves and their work. To go in amongst them all was like venturing among a pack of wolves. And yet they could not but be listened to, reasoned with, and if possible won back from their misguided course. But it was anxious work; and by that time many of them had gone too far to be reclaimed. Nothing could be done with Fan, or with the deacon, who had been guilty of serious dishonesty which had already come to light. And with them went a number of others. But happily, in time, the remainder were reclaimed.
One of the questions that came up on Mr. Hoste’s return was as to whether drastic action should be taken or not, with a view to purifying and safeguarding the church. In the trials of that summer the spiritual condition of professed believers all over the district had been severely tested, and not a few had gone back. Most of these followed Fan. And among the large number who were really Christians, the danger was still grave. But after prayer and consideration both Mr. Hoste and Pastor Hsi came to feel that any attempt summarily to dispose of the difficulty would be a mistake. It could only draw out sympathy for Fan and his followers, and justify those who already accused the leaders of the church of an arbitrary spirit. God alone could make it manifest who were in the right; and He would surely do so as time went on.
The event proved the wisdom of this decision. Fan, as was to be expected, gradually alienated his followers by misconduct and incapacity; while Hsi’s patient and prayerful spirit effectually established him in the confidence of all right minded men.
As months passed on signs of dissolution became apparent in the opposing party, and Hsi, after one of his customary seasons of prayer and fasting, was impressed with the conviction that the final collapse of their enterprise was near at hand. His thoughts were specially directed to John 15:66If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered; and men gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned. (John 15:6): “If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered.” The inevitableness of this solemn judgment came to him as a message straight from God. And in all the leading centers he called the attention of the Christians to what he believed was about to happen.
“Rest quietly and wait,” he said. “We do not need to fight in this battle. Within three months you will see the last of these spurious Refuges brought to an end.”
It was a bold statement; but his words were not allowed to fall to the ground. It soon became evident that Fan was involved in hopeless complications. One by one his Refuges failed, and the whole movement sank into disrepute. Sincere men who had become involved in it, saw their mistake and withdrew. Chang, already half repentant, broke all connection with Fan, and started a work of his own on wiser lines, in another district. Deserted thus by his followers, Fan gave up the whole thing; and as a matter of fact, before three months were over, the last of his Refuges disappeared.
Years after the trouble of 1887, both he and Chang so far confessed their wrong doing as to go to Pastor Hsi’s home at the festival of the New Year and publicly pay their respects. This courtesy was cordially welcomed, and amounted to a reconciliation from the Chinese point of view. But Fan has never come back to the Lord, or responded to any efforts to draw him again into Christian fellowship. Dear reader, will you not pray earnestly for his restoration?)
This was a solemn warning; and did more than any church action could have done to recall backsliders, strengthen the Christians, and safeguard Hsi’s position in days to come.
Thus blessing grew out of the trouble. The church needed cleansing: and the Lord used this means for drawing off the worst elements, and deepening the mutual love and confidence of those who stood the test. Much pruning and training were required, especially in Hsi’s own case, that lives the Holy Spirit was using might be more fruitful in days to come. There were dangers to be avoided and graces to develop. And it was all in wise and tender hands: “My Father is the husbandman.”
One beautiful result of the long strain and pressure was the way in which Pastor Hsi was drawn to Mr. Hoste, and learned to value at its true worth the help of the foreign missionary. Independent as he was by nature, it had been irksome to him at times to bear with the restraints of even such co-operation. As his undertakings grew and prospered, he might easily have been tempted to swing off from the Mission altogether, and establish a purely native organization that would have lacked important elements of permanence and strength. This the Fan outbreak finally prevented. At a critical time in his experience it threw him back upon the Mission for support, and discovered rich treasures of sympathy and friendship he might otherwise have continued to ignore. And of all fellow laborers, Mr. Hoste was surely the most fitted to win his confidence in such a crisis. With the deepest appreciation of Hsi’s character and work, he was not blind to his faults. Yet he stood by him as few others could have done: always at hand when needed, but letting him bear his own burdens; wise in counsel; steadfast in purpose and in prayer. This association was long continued, and resulted in a friendship the depth and sacredness of which are rarely known. Until the end they lived and worked together, in fellowship that had not a little to do with the deepening and mellowing of Hsi’s character, that so markedly began in the dark days of 1887.
But it was long before the painful results of this opposition passed away. More or less for years Hsi was involved in difficulties of which it was the fruitful source. Sad to say, the disaffection spread to Chao-ch’eng, and it was in the Refuge opened there by Elder Si that one of the most distressing experiences took place.
At the height of the Fan troubles, quite a number of the Chao-ch’eng Christians sided with the opposing party. Some were already backsliders, and others were carried away with the prospect of financial gain. They followed Fan’s example, and opened a Refuge, hoping to supersede the original work to their own enrichment. The Chao-ch’eng Refuge had always paid well, and was at this time more than self-supporting. But its enemies did not flourish. For a while they reaped a harvest, just as Fan had done, by the indiscriminate sale of Hsi’s medicine. But this was only temporary. And the final failure of the enterprise left them in considerable embarrassment.
A dear old man named Song was at this time in charge of Hsi’s Refuge, and pastor of the church. Unfailing sympathy and devotion endeared him to the Christians, and went far to explain the success of his work. But full of unreasoning jealousy, the little clique that had broken off determined to wreck his undertakings. Guided by Fan’s example, they planned an attack upon the Refuge, with the purpose of driving out its occupants and obtaining possession of the premises. They of course expected that, this being done, Hsi would come up to look after his property; in which case they would hold him to ransom, or force him to buy them off with a considerable sum.
One Sunday morning, therefore, a group of these men well known as former Christians, though they had gone back to opium smoking, turned up at the Refuge. They were cordially welcomed, for Song had the kindest heart and bore malice toward none. It was Communion Sunday, and at the close of the first service Song invited all the members of the church to remain, suggesting that other friends might retire to the guest hall. Suddenly the little gang who had been waiting this opportunity, sprang to their feet, crying: “No, we will not withdraw. There shall be no Communion. If we cannot join, you shall not have it at all.”
Confusion and panic ensued. Outsiders became alarmed, for the assailants were violently abusive, and the Christians, taken unawares, hardly knew what to do. Some exclaimed: “Put them out. It is unseemly. We must continue the service.”
Others were for calling the local policeman and having the disturbers punished.
“No,” said old Pastor Song, when he could make his voice heard. “It is the Lord’s table, not ours. We are only guests at His Supper. These men are defying Him, not us. The Lord must deal with them. We have no complaint.”
This greatly surprised the aggressors, who had expected a very different result. They were prepared for resistance, and hoped to work up a genuine quarrel. But Song, understanding this, hurriedly explained to the Christians: “If we turn these men out today, next Sunday we shall have four times as many more. Let them alone. The Lord will undertake for us.”
The attacking party, seeing the Christians weaken, as they supposed, carried things with a high hand. They cleared the chapel, and took complete possession of the premises. They were so violent that the patients under treatment thought it best to escape while they could. And soon the Refuge was deserted.
Song, of course, and his faithful helper Chu, stayed on, and sent word to Pastor Hsi, asking him to come up as soon as possible. But Hsi, on considering the matter, wrote advising them to retire from the conflict, and leave the men in possession of the premises. He saw that what they wanted was money, and an opportunity for making further trouble, and that the only thing to do was to leave them entirely alone.
“The Refuge is closed anyhow, for the present,” he said. “Just take what things you can, and go elsewhere. The Lord will not let them follow you. We shall be constantly in prayer.”
This advice commended itself to Song and Chu. And gathering together a few belongings, before the men in possession of the Refuge realized what was happening, they disappeared.
But it was not easy to find other premises. They had to put up with miserable accommodation for a long time, while hunting for a landlord willing to take them in. Plenty of houses could have been bought outright; but their trouble had been noised abroad, and no one was willing to risk a repetition of such scenes on a rented property.
“See,” said their critics, “what a mistake you have made. You should not allow yourselves to be imposed upon. You are simply advertising for all the riffraff of the countryside. Respectable people despise such weakness, and feel a contempt for your religion accordingly. Even your God does not seem able to protect you!”
It was a difficult situation, and many of the Christians were puzzled. When week after week went by, and no judgment from Heaven overtook their enemies, they too began to advise going to law for the recovery of the Refuge property. Hsi felt the trouble keenly; and poor Song and his helper had hard work to hold on. But they did their best with a few patients in great discomfort, and gave themselves to prayer and fasting.
Meanwhile the men with the Refuge on their hands rather felt the wind taken out of their sails. They did not know what to do. They had no real grievance, nor would the Christians give them an opportunity for making any. They had ostensibly gained their point and come off victors. What more could be desired? And yet they could do nothing with the premises, and were finding themselves in an awkward predicament.
And then the Lord began to work on behalf of His servants. It all came about so naturally that it scarcely seemed like the judgment of God. But all the ringleaders who had seized the Refuge became involved in serious trouble. Family affairs went wrong. Some were reduced to poverty. Others fell sick. One or two died. Gradually the opposition which had been so formidable melted away, and in the course of a few months it entirely disappeared. Onlookers were surprised; for, as everyone could see, not a man among the Christians had lifted a finger against their enemies.
Meanwhile the Lord provided a place in which the Refuge and church meetings could be carried on. The very house Song most desired was given them in answer to prayer. The landlord at first would not hear of renting it. He was willing to sell, or to lease. But this the Refuge could not afford, and Song had almost given up hope.
Just then Pastor and Mrs. Hsi arrived in the city under peculiar circumstances. They were traveling homeward from Hoh-chau, and had to pass Chao-ch’eng on the way. They had not intended staying there, but strangely enough found themselves without provision for the journey, having left their cash bag behind. It was too late to go back and fetch it. So they pressed on to Chah’eng, knowing there were friends there who would gladly supply their need.
Upon reaching the city, Hsi remembered a visit he wished to pay to a former patient, and the cart was driven straight to his door. Delighted at their arrival, this gentleman received them with all hospitality; and before they could leave again another visitor was announced, who proved to be the landlord of the very house Song was so anxious to obtain. He was far from well, and finding Hsi in the guest hall, entered into friendly conversation, and finally asked him to prescribe for his complaint.
This was Hsi’s opportunity. Listening to the medical details put before him, his heart went up in prayer to God both for the patient and the Refuge. The result was that the gentleman went away with a valuable prescription, after he had cordially expressed his willingness to let Song have the house at a nominal rental.
It was a satisfaction not to require the new premises long. At the end of about six months all opposition had vanished. The original premises were vacant, and the landlord was eager for Song to return.
“I so well remember,” writes Mr. Hoste, “when we went back to the old Refuge. Oh, the power of God that was in that place! One felt it overwhelmingly at times. It was so easy, in the meetings there, to talk of Him. One did not need to warm things up, or labor to make an impression. The working of the Holy Spirit was manifest.”
During the next four and a half years nearly five hundred men were cured of opium smoking in those premises, many scores of whom, under the loving influence of Pastor Song, were led to Christ.
Thus the Lord undertook for His own, turning all the troubles of those difficult years to fuller blessing. “Thou hast caused men to ride over our heads: we went through fire and through water; but thou broughtest us out into a wealthy place.”
Looking back upon it all, long after, Hsi wrote: At that time the Heavenly Father allowed Satan to buffet me, and tried me with fire, in a manner quite different from anything I had before experienced. There were three false brethren connected with the Refuge work, who endeavored to kill me. But trusting in the Lord, I escaped out of their hands. In four of the leading Refuges there were deaths among those who were breaking off opium, and in all the others we had great and special troubles. And for nearly two years this testing continued.
Each time I met with heavy trials — all of which I received from the hands of my Heavenly Father — I used to fast for three, four, or five days: and the tears that I shed were beyond knowledge. But the Lord opened a way of escape for me. And although I endured much loss of means, weariness, and alarm — still, in the end, it was peace. For, in the midst of it all, the Lord comforted and strengthened me, and kept me from growing coldhearted and going back.
Now, thanks be to God’s grace, all the Refuges are in peace.