Part 3--SOWING BEFORE THE STORM.

*Opening a New Station*

*Part I. THE MISSIONARY'S HOME.*

Wee Nell's eyes had closed at last, and the tired mother rising from the child's bedside crossed the cement floor to the adjoining room, where a boy of six was busily engaged drawing on a blackboard to the evident delight of his little sister.

"My boy," said his mother, "baby has just gone to sleep and must not be disturbed. These constant crowds of women keep her from proper rest, so run out with your little sister to the back compound and play."

As the children disappeared, the mother prepared to cut out some little garments, but scarcely had she taken scissors in hand when suddenly she laid them down again, and stood listening. In the distance could be heard the noisy shouts of a band of cotton gleaners. "Would they come in?" she asked herself. Then, as they could be heard sweeping through the front gateway, she pushed her work to one side exclaiming aloud, "Oh, dear, dear, how can I ever get the children's clothes made! If only a rainy day would come I might get something made."

"Patience, patience," her husband's voice came through the study door. "These crowds will not last indefinitely, so do your best to reach them while you may." Before he had finished speaking his wife's voice could be heard greeting the crowd in the courtyard.

"Please sit down here in the shade and rest, do sit down, see, here are benches and mats," she urged as they crowded about her, a wild unruly mob.

"We have come to see," cried a dozen voices at once.

"I know you have," she replied, trying to speak so as not to waken the baby and yet be heard above the din of voices. "I really cannot let you inside unless you first sit down and listen to what I have to say." Then as they still hesitated she continued, "If you will sit down and listen, I will promise to let you inside and show you everything." This promise had the desired effect--down they sat on mats, some on benches,--a few timid ones kept close to the gate so as to be ready to flee at the first approach of danger! As the mother tried to tell them why she had come--of a Saviour from sin--of a hope after death, some listened intently and seemed to get a gleam of light, but for the most part the crowd was restless and keen only to get inside the house about which they had heard so many strange stories. At last baby Nell wakened, and making the fact known by lusty cries, gave the women the opportunity they desired.

As the mother ran to her little one the crowd of forty or fifty women and children pressed in after her. With the baby in her arms the mother faithfully kept her promise. Nothing escaped their curious eyes--beds were turned back, drawers opened, sewing machine examined, and organ played before they appeared satisfied. Whereupon they rushed off as quickly as they had come, saying to one another, "The foreign devil woman does not seem as bad as people say she is." Others said, "But who knows, you can never judge by appearances!" Half an hour later the husband returned from the man's preaching to find his wife in tears.

"Why, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Oh, everything," his wife replied between her sobs. "I just can't bear it. You don't know how they despise me and what terrible things they are saying. Besides when I came back to my work I found they had carried off my last pair of scissors and part of the material I was making a dress of. That is not all. The cook has just been in to say that several teaspoons are missing."

"Tut, tut," replied her husband, man-like. "That's nothing. Why they are only _things_ anyway!"

A few days later came the missionary's turn to need sympathy. He came in from the front looking pale and apparently quite worn out.

"I tell you what, wife," he said, "I cannot stand this strain much longer without help! If I only had a good preacher to put in charge of the preaching hall, I could get along; but with lime to weigh, bricks to count, wood and timber to measure, and all the Mission accounts to keep, besides the oversight of all these workmen, and the preaching to these crowds of men that are coming daily, well--I just must get help."

He went into his study, but returned a moment later with an open Bible in his hand. Pointing to these words, "My God shall supply all your need," he said, "Wife, do we really believe this? If we do, then let us join in asking God to meet this pressing need of ours for an evangelist."

"But how is it possible," returned his wife. "We have not got even one convert yet, and have promised the other stations not to ask help of them as they are undermanned?"

"True, but God is able to fulfil His own promises."

As the husband prayed, the wife thought, "but, oh, how can help come. _It is as if we were praying for rain from a clear sky._"

Two days later the answer did come,--not, indeed, as they expected, but above all they could have thought. The story of this must be left for our next sketch.

*Part II. AS RAIN FROM A CLEAR SKY.*

"Call upon me in the day of trouble and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me."

A poor broken opium slave lay on a kang or brick bed with only a thin straw mat between his emaciated form and the cold bricks. His livid color, with the peculiar dark shade of the moderate opium user, his sunken cheeks and labored breathing, all betokened the man had reached the stage when only a miracle could save him. Beside him stood a missionary, who was saying earnestly as he laid his hand kindly on the man's shoulder:

"Wang Pu Lin, I tell you God _can_ save you."

"No, no, Pastor," the man replied sadly, "It's no use. I've tried and failed too often. I believe all you preach, but what is the use of believing when this opium binds me as with iron chains? Even Pastor Hsi's Refuge failed to cure me. No no, don't waste your time on me. I'm beyond hope." And the man turned again to his opium.

But the missionary was not the kind to be so easily rebuffed. The next day found Wang Pu Lin and the missionary on the Mission court en route for the station of Chu Wang.

For ten awful days Wang Pu Lin's body, mind and soul hung in the balance. The missionaries united in doing all that was possible to relieve the man's agonies. It was on the tenth night the crisis came. Many times later Wang Pu Lin told how that night he went out when in bitter agony into the darkness. To his distorted brain there appeared to him a horrible being urging him to jump the wall and get relief once more in opium. As he stood wavering a voice seemed to call to him, "Wang Fu Lin, Wang Fu Lin, beware! Yield now and you are lost." As he heard this voice he made one desperate effort, crying aloud, "Oh, God, help me. I will die rather than yield." Staggering back to his brick bed he threw himself upon it and slept till morning. He wakened, as the future proved, a new and victorious man.

* * *

Three years passed. The missionary at the new station is facing the crisis described in our last sketch. Help must come in the shape of an evangelist, or he would break down. The spiritual wireless is set in motion. The cry for aid is heard. And help is sent truly _as rain from a clear sky_.

During the three years since his deliverance from the opium, Wang Fu Lin and his family had had a bitter struggle for existence. As a Christian he could no longer make a living by street story telling and the keeping of low opium dives, and every effort to get honest employment had failed. At last he determined to seek a position in the city of Changte, to reach which he must needs pass by the Mission where the missionary was then facing his crisis.

Wang Fu Lin called on the missionary as he was passing. But no one could have looked less like an answer to their prayers. Still fearfully emaciated, racked with a cough which ere long would end his life, dressed in almost beggar rags, the poor fellow presented a pitiable spectacle. But "the Lord seeth not as man seeth."

After consulting together the missionary and his wife determined to try him for a few days--for he could at least testify to the power of God to change and keep the lowest opium slave. Within an hour or two of his entering the Mission gate, apparently a beggar, Wang Fu Lin was cleansed and clothed in a Chinese outfit of the missionary's, and was seated in the men's chapel preaching to a crowded audience.

From that very first day of his ministry, there was no doubt of his being a messenger sent by God. He had in a wonderful degree the power and unction of the Holy Spirit. He had natural gifts as a speaker, and these had been developed during the many years of street story telling. Now all was consecrated to the one object--the winning of souls to Christ. He seemed to be conscious that his time was short, and always spoke as "a dying man to dying men." From the very first men were won to Christ; the first being a native doctor of some note, the second a wealthy land owner.

For three years during those early days of stress and strain, he was spared to help in laying the foundations of the Changte Church. Then God took him. Though more than twenty years have passed since his death, he is still remembered and spoken of as the Spirit-filled preacher.

*Part III. SOWING BEFORE THE STORM.*

The five years between 1895 and 1900 were years fraught with much danger and many difficulties to the missionaries at the new station at Changte. The anti-foreign, anti-missionary attitude of the people was hard to live down. It became quite a common thing for the missionary to be called hastily to the front to quiet a threatening crowd.

On one occasion the Mission premises were practically surrounded by an unruly mob and for many hours the missionaries were in imminent peril. One thing helped greatly in living this danger period down safely. The missionaries of whom I have already written had moved from the poor, unhealthy Chinese house with the cement floor into a semi-foreign house, the first of the kind to be built in that region. As this house was being built they feared it might prove a barrier between themselves and the Chinese, and perhaps hinder the progress of the work which had begun to be very encouraging, so they prayed that God would make their new home a blessing and a means of reaching the people still more, and like so many of our prayers they came to see the answer lay largely with themselves--so they determined to allow all who wished, to see through their home. Many thousands took advantage of this permission. The high water mark in numbers was reached when eighteen hundred and thirty-five _men_ passed through the missionary's home in one day. Many hundreds of women were received that same day by the wife and her colleague in the work. On ordinary occasions the missionary had his wife play the organ for the bands of men he led through, but on this particular occasion she was too much engaged with the women to do so. The missionary therefore was forced to be his own organist. Though he did not know one note from another, he could at least pull out all the stops, lay his hands on as many notes as possible, and pump the bellows vigorously. The result called forth from admiring crowds the gratifying remark, "Why he plays better than his wife!" The Gospel was faithfully proclaimed to all who came. The missionaries soon began to see good fruit from this plan of reaching the people.

During the second year at Changte hundreds of students had come to the city for the tri-annual government examinations. Many of these visited and showed plainly their anti-foreign attitude--sometimes causing quite serious trouble.

Before the next examinations came round, three years later, the missionary was well prepared for them. At first they came as before full of self-satisfied convictions that they were quite superior representatives of the most superior race. Curiosity alone led them to the foreigner's home. But no sooner would they catch sight of the large astronomical charts on the missionary's study wall than their attitude invariably changed. The missionary knew well the importance of reserving his ammunition till the right moment! The proudest of those scholars in face of those charts became like children.

As the man of God led them (at their own request) step by step on into the wonders of creation of which they knew nothing--often would come the cry, "Teacher stop, have pity on us--you make us feel like the man in the well who thought he saw the whole heavens!"

The change that came over hundreds of these students was truly remarkable. Just one instance of the fruit of this work. The missionary was touring far west of Changte and stayed with his party at a certain inn. The inn-keeper when asked for his bill as the party was leaving replied--"Honorable teacher, I could not accept anything from you. My son was at the recent examinations at Changte and has told me of his visit to your home and what you are doing for our people!"

One day early in 19-- three of the missionary's children were gathered in front of a curious looking chart tacked on the wall of the study. It was a rough map of the Changte field, and over parts of the chart were red dots. The eldest child was counting those red spots and had reached to forty-nine when his father entered.

"Oh, father," cried the boy, "just look, there are almost fifty red places."

"Yes," said his father, "And do you know dear children that every red mark means a place where one or more Christians are, and where the light of the Gospel that can save men has entered?"

"Oh, won't it be lovely, father, when the whole map is red?" said a sweet fair-haired little girl as she threw her arras about her father's neck.

Oh kind Heavenly Father, who withheld from Thy children's human sight what Thou knewest was so soon to come upon them!

A few short weeks after the above scene the spirit of the little fair-haired child had returned to the God who gave it, the missionaries even fleeing before their would-be murderers--the Chinese Christians scattered. Many throughout China, both missionaries and Chinese Christians were witnessing a good confession even to cruel death for Christ's sake.

So the blood of the martyrs became in China, as in the early times, the seed of the Christian Church in China.

*SKETCH V*

*Testing God*

_A True Incident._

*Testing God*

*A TRUE INCIDENT.*

"_Faith steps out on the seeming void and finds the Rock beneath._"

Few in the home-land have any just conception of what it means for a missionary's wife with little children to engage in aggressive evangelistic effort for the reaching of her heathen sisters. The following sketch which is true in every detail may serve to illustrate what a missionary mother must face when engaging in such work.

* * *

"I simply cannot, dare not, go," the wife was saying as her husband stood before her with a Chinese letter in his hand. "The letter states plainly that an epidemic of smallpox has broken out in the very place we planned to go to. If it were not for baby I would gladly go; but supposing he should later take the smallpox and die?" and her voice ended with a sudden break. "But," replied her husband, "I am perfectly sure that if we definitely trust Him for the child God will not let him come to harm. The Christians are all expecting us, and would it be right to show the white feather at the first appearance of danger? How can we tell the Chinese to trust God if we do not?"

For an hour or more the mother went through a bitter struggle between her fears for her child and an impelling sense of duty towards her heathen sisters. At last she determined to go, but with fear and trembling lest the child should get the smallpox.

The following evening after bumping (the only word to express the movement) for eight hours in a springless cart over hills and stony roads, the missionaries reached the village of Hopei. Some distance outside the village a few Christians were awaiting their arrival and escorted them through the darkness to the Inn--each one anxious to help in getting their guests settled. One carried the roll of bedding--two others the food box, still another sought to get possession of the baby, but the mother feared to part with him. Everything was piled in a promiscuous heap on the large brick platform which took up about half of the room which they were told was to be their living-room and women's preaching place as well. The room was certainly not inviting; the roof was broken in (ceiling there was none), the walls were black with the soot and dirt of generations, and hard uneven lumpy earth did for floors. Furniture, there was none--not even a table or chair.

The mother's first question was "where can I keep the baby?" For answer she was led to an opening in the wall beyond which was a mud hole just large enough to spread their bedding, but at the further end were several great rat holes! A sudden desperate fear for her child took possession of the mother, but pride kept her from letting her husband know her fears.

Early the following morning the women and children from the surrounding country began crowding in. By nine o'clock the room was packed to suffocation with a great crowd outside trying to get in. All were clamoring to see and feel the foreign woman and her child. These women knew absolutely nothing of the Gospel, and as the missionary mother looked into their rough, ignorant, sensual faces and thought how she had even risked the life of her precious child to come to them, a great yearning came into her heart to be used of God to bring light to their dark minds. For many hours a day she and her faithful Bible woman preached to the ever changing crowd. Sometimes they were both in despair at the crush and confusion. Constantly could be seen children marked with smallpox carried in their mother's arms. At times the atmosphere was so over-powering the mother could only cry to God to keep her from fainting.

Though early in May the weather was very warm, and the husband continually had the easier time for he had both light and air preaching as he did in the open court.

All through the week the baby had stood the confinement and conditions wonderfully. When not asleep he would delight and win the women by his happy ways. But Saturday morning found him ill and feverish, lying listless in his mother's arms. The mother was for at once rushing home with him, but her husband gently rebuked her lack of faith, and reminded her of their promise to hold a communion service at a distant village on the morrow.

Before day-break the next morning, Sunday, all the missionary's party was astir, and as the dawn was breaking they filed out of the yard through the quiet deserted streets into the country, following a winding mountain path. When at last the summit of quite a high hill was reached, the missionary sent the rest of the party on ahead, while he and his wife sat down with their sleeping child. For a long time neither could break the silence, their hearts were too full. Never will either forget the peace and beauty of that hour. It was all intensified by the contrast with what they had left behind. The mother could only think with horror of the darkness and dirt, sin and suffering, turmoil and unspeakable degradation in which they had lived for those six days. But now it seemed as if they were in heaven itself. Oh, the beauty of that scene! To the east the sun was just appearing in all its height of glory. To the north, south, and west, rose mountains and hills still in shadow, except for the tipping of the coming sun whose herald of glory lit up the eastern sky and plain which stretched out before them as far as the eye could reach.

It seemed there on that hill-top alone with God so easy to trust for the little one who was still feverish and ill. But all too soon, as it seemed, they had to leave that quiet spot and go down into the valley--to the noise and confusion of the village where their Sabbath ministry lay. The following morning early they once more turned their faces homeward, and as the mother saw the bright, happy smile on her child's face, the fever gone, she pressed him to her with joy and thankfulness, and there arose in her heart a cry for forgiveness that she had been so faithless and unbelieving.

This cruel self, oh how it strives And works within my breast, How many subtle forms it takes * * * * As if it were not _safe_ to rest And venture _all_ on Thee."

As years passed the mother's faith did grow, but it was on _God's faithfulness_ until she learnt it _was safe_ to venture _all_ on Him.

Dear fellow-mother in the homeland, as you realize from these lines something of what it costs a mother in China to step out from her home to save her Chinese sisters, ask yourself "Could _I_ do it?" Oh, my sisters, criticize less and pray more for the missionary mothers of China.

*SKETCH VI*

*A Christian General*

_Hope for China's Soldiers._

*A Christian General*

*HOPE FOR CHINA'S SOLDIERS.*

(The following letter was written on board river steamer immediately at the close of the visit to General Feng's camp.)

On Board Yangtze Steamer, September 2, 1919.

Dear Home Friends:

About the beginning of July, a very urgent message reached Doctor Goforth from General Feng of Chang-teh, Hunan, asking for a "mission" among his troops. The only possible time he had to give was the last week of August, and the meetings were arranged for this time. Later the General telegraphed for me to come for meetings among the 70 or 80 officers' wives.

When the time drew near that we should have to leave Chi Kung Shan for Chang-teh, word came that cholera was raging at places along the railway. Then the heat became so intense I was tempted to listen to some who urged me not to go. But as I hesitated, I was led to Ecclesiastes 11:4--"He that observeth the wind shall not sow, and he that regardeth the clouds shall not reap." How could I refuse to go, in face of such a text? If I had not gone, what I would have missed!

The journey of one day by train and three by steamer was extremely hot. It was as if we were in a Turkish bath day and night. We slept at night on the deck of the steamer. On Sunday afternoon, Aug. 24th, we reached the house of Mr. Caswell of the Holiness Mission. It was amusing to read the General's letter written in English by his Chinese English Teacher, in which he said to Mr. Caswell, "I beg you to prepare the treatment for their coming."

General Feng called within an hour of our arrival. He is over six feet tall, and every inch a General, yet without a trace of the bombast so often seen in the higher-class Chinese. His manner is a curious and striking mixture of humility, dignity, and quiet power; he has a handsome, good face. He at once impresses one as true and sincere, a man to be trusted. He has been a Christian for six years.

THE STORY OF HIS CONVERSION.

The story of his conversion is most interesting, but it is too long to give in detail. In brief, it is as follows:--When a young fellow of sixteen, he joined the army. Shortly after, the Boxer Uprising broke out. He was among those sent to put down the Boxers at Pao-ting-fu, but his commanding officer was really in league with them. One day he stood in a mission courtyard when the Boxers came in. A single lady missionary came out to meet them, and pleaded for her own life and the lives of the others with her, and with great power recounted what she and others had been doing for their people. What she said touched the young soldier. She and the others were spared then, but he heard that they were all beheaded later.

Soon after, he was taken ill and treated at the mission hospital in Peking. On leaving, he wanted to give money; but the doctor said. "If you are truly grateful for what we have done for you, then all I ask of you is to remember that there is our God in heaven Who loves you." Later, he was again obliged to go to hospital for treatment at a place far distant from the first one. Here the doctor, on his leaving, said almost exactly the same words--"Remember there is a God in heaven Who loves you."

Some time after this, the future General was in Peking when Dr. Mott was holding meetings. He heard Dr. Mott, was much impressed, signed one of the cards, and joined a Bible Study Class. He was thus definitely started on the right road; and, though other circumstances combined to lead him to take an out-and-out stand, he dated the beginning of his Christian life from Dr. Mott's visit.

THE GENERAL'S WORK.

Before coming here to Chang-teh, we had heard a great deal of what marvels the General had accomplished in the year he has been here; but what we have seen surpasses what we heard. General Feng has the welfare of his soldiers, both body and soul, at heart. This is seen by the fact that he has put down vice of all kinds. All bad resorts and their inmates are removed far from the camp. No smoking, drinking, gambling, or opium is allowed. The officers, including himself, dress in the plainest gray cotton. Even the officers' wives are not allowed to wear silks, but just plain cotton. No foot-binding is allowed.

The General has arranged all sorts of athletic sports for officers and men. There is a fine reading room; the illiterate are taught to read. There is a school for officers' wives taught by a Christian lady, the wife of one of the officers and a graduate of the Peking Girls' School. There is an industrial school for women; also an industrial school for men who are nearing the age limit of the army, to teach them ways of earning a livelihood.

Christian worship is taught and encouraged in every way. One morning Dr. Goforth and I had occasion to pass through several courtyards of the men's quarters just at breakfast time. As we passed along, we saw the men in groups standing before the food singing their morning hymn of thanksgiving. And we were told by the missionaries living near the camp that every evening they can hear the soldiers singing their evening hymn. Sometimes it is, "Oh, come to my heart Lord Jesus; there is room in my heart for Thee"--or "Pass me not, O gentle Saviour." As the soldiers march along the street, they sing Christian hymns, one of the favorites for marching being "Onward, Christian Soldiers."

The General has a band, and also a choir; but I hardly know what to say about the quality of the singing and music generally. I can only give my impression of it as I heard them in the Assembly Hall at one of the meetings. The band, organ and men all start at once on the third stroke of the baton, no leading note being given. Every instrument in the band seemed to my ears to be tuned to a different key, and every man seemed to sing without the least regard for the key of his neighbor. All kept the tune, as far as I could hear, and all played or sang as loudly as they could bang, toot, or shout. The general effect was deafening, and to me almost appalling, for there were about 1,000 men and some twenty instruments engaged. When the General later called upon the choir of twenty men to sing by themselves with just the baby organ accompaniment, it was really delightful to listen to them. They sang very well indeed.

THE MISSION AND ITS RESULT.

And now as to the "Mission" we have just held. From the first, God has been very manifestly working. Twice every day Dr. Goforth has had an attentive and keenly interested audience of about 1,000 men, chiefly officers. At three of these meetings the wives were permitted to be present; but all the rest of the women's meetings were separate, when God gave me much help in speaking to them. At our last meeting, practically all the officers' wives present said they wished to follow the Lord Jesus.

At one of the last meetings for the men, General Feng broke down as he tried to pray. What seemed to affect him was the thought of his country. As soon as he could recover from his sobs, he stood up and, facing his officers, pleaded for his country--pleaded with them to join him in putting aside all mean motives, and think and work and pray for their country. One of his staff officers followed, praying earnestly, then one after the other of the officers, with sobs and tears cried to God on behalf of themselves and their country.

An old missionary who was present, and who described the scene to me, said he did not think there had ever been such a scene before when a general wept before his own officers, with all that followed. But the discipline was not broken by it; for when the General rose to leave, the audience rose as one man.

Dr. Goforth and General Feng went yesterday to a camp 23 miles away, where there are about 4,000 troops. Five hundred of these have already been baptized, and hundreds more are enquiring. A Christian Chinese gentleman, who has won a fine name, is to come to act as the General's chaplain and organize the work among the troops.

THE COMING MAN OF CHINA.

Many feel that General Feng is the coming man of China. His troops belong rightly to the north, but were sent down here to fight the Southern Army. General Feng, however, has made it clear to the Peking Government that he is willing and eager to fight the enemies of his country; but, unless forced to do so, he will not fight his own countrymen of the south. When the war was on, he telegraphed more than once to be sent to France; and when the situation looked very serious in Shantung a few months ago, General Feng was spoken of as the man to cope with the Japanese.

Surely it is a cause for most earnest praise to God that such a man is being raised up. The very fact that such wonderful possibilities lie before him, and that after all he is but human, should call forth definite prayer for him. China needs--oh, so terribly!--just such men. May God grant that General Feng be kept and used to save his country at this time of crisis.

July 24th, 1919.--Almost a year has passed since the above letter was written. Several thousands of General Feng's soldiers are now baptized and the splendid work continues. But as I write, civil war, which has been simmering for years, has now broken out in dead earnest, General Feng and his men are in the midst of the conflict and all are looking to him and his friend Wu-pei-fu to save the situation in this crisis.

*SKETCH VII*

*A Chinese Nobleman*

*A Chinese Nobleman*

As I review the life of the man of whom I am to write, two incidents of over thirty years ago come to mind. On our way to China one of our fellow-passengers was a man who had been in business twenty odd years in China. He declared there were no real Christians in China, that they were all "rice" Christians--followers of the foreigner for what they could get and so on. Practically all the passengers, except the missionaries heartily agreed with these statements. Later we heard the same thing repeated on the coast steamer. Shortly after reaching our destination a well-known resident of China, who had occupied for twenty-five years a responsible position in the "Customs" made such positive statements along the same line that the writer began to wonder if these things could be true. Six weeks later this accuser, and as I know now to be, cruel slanderer of the Christians had gone to meet his Judge--dying suddenly in his chair as the result of a vicious debauch!

It is now the writer's privilege to give testimonies after thirty years standing, to the genuineness of the Chinese Christian--here is one of them.

Twenty miles northeast of the Mission Station of Changteho lived a well-to-do banker and landowner named Chen-Lao-Jung. He was a man of most masterful personality. His old mother, to whom he was greatly devoted, had long been afflicted by attacks of what the Chinese called demon possession--which from all accounts exactly resembled those recorded in the Bible. Every heathen means had been used for her relief. Witch doctors, necromancers, Buddhist priests, and others had used their arts upon her (some of these being very cruel), but the poor woman was "nothing better, but rather grew worse."

One day a Christian called when the woman was in a serious and violent condition. Mr. Chen asked Mr. Hsu, the Christian, to pray to his God for his mother, but the Christian replied, "I would gladly do so, but it is useless for me to pray to my God, who is the only true God, when you recognize so many other gods that are false. These household gods must first be destroyed: then I can pray." (Oh, that our home Christians would realize this too, _then_ would _they_ know the power of prayer).

After some demur Mr. Chen decided that he had tried these gods and they had failed him, now he would burn them rather than lose this opportunity of having his mother healed by the Christian God!

In face of the bitterest opposition from his family and neighbors he publicly burnt all the household gods. Then he and Mr. Hsu followed by all the family and a crowd of curious neighbors went into the mother's room where she lay foaming on the bed. Mr. Hsu first sang the hymn "Jesus loves me"--then prayed, then sang again.

Gradually the woman quieted down and before long was completely restored. Thus the Lord as of old answered prayer and delivered the woman from the terrible power which had had such a hold upon her. Her deliverance was so wonderful that all the family and some neighbors immediately accepted the Gospel.

Mr. Chen left his home and business for several weeks and came to the out-station where the writer and her husband were. Here he took the place of a little child. His humility, earnestness, and sincerity impressed us all. When he felt he had grasped the main truths of the Gospel he returned home realizing as few Christians seem to do, that he had been saved to save others. He at once started family worship, and prepared a building as a chapel and preaching hall--here he gathered and taught all who wished to learn. His whole family became out and out for Christ and soon neighbors were won. The first of these was a notable opium slave. The story in detail of the growth of Christianity in Mr. Chen's region would fill a volume, but space permits only the brief record of open outstanding facts.

About two years after Mr. Chen became a Christian the locusts came over the country in great numbers, eating all before them. Mr. Chen told his family that since they would all be busy fighting the locusts, family worship would for the time be given up. A few days later a fine boy in the family, about seven years of age, became paralyzed in one side and was unable to get off the kang (or brick bed). The following is Mr. Chen's own account of what followed.

"One day I was out in the fields fighting the locusts when I suddenly seemed to waken out of sleep. "Hsing Wu kuo lai" I cried aloud--'Why! _the connection is cut! The connection is cut!_' I hastened home and called all the family together. I told them to get down on their knees and confess with me our sin of _putting God aside_, that by doing so we had cut the connection with God, for God had said, 'Your iniquities have separated between you and your God and your sins have hid His face from you. Oh, Lord now that the connection is mended, won't you heal the little boy?' And as we prayed we heard the child get off the kang, and before we rose from our knees he was running around quite well."

Mr. Chen became a tower of strength to the missionary, who when obliged to be absent sometimes from that part of his field would commit the affairs of the Church into his hands. Did he get money for this, you ask. No--all his service was for love of his Lord.

Not many months ago this man stood bravely, grandly, one of the severest tests any Christian could be put to.

He had a very dear little daughter, a pretty, gentle, timid child of about nine years of age. This child was away from home when she was attacked by a young woman of violent temper, the daughter of another Christian. The child was struck several times with a heavy stick, and as she fled terrified was followed and struck again, it is believed, on the head, a few days later the child returned home, but could say little else than, "I'm afraid" over and over again. She sank rapidly and died; but before her death she told her father of the attack upon her. A few days later the writer received a most touching letter from Mr. Chen in which he reviewed the past--what he had been saved from--what Christ had been to him--then wrote as follows--

"Shepherd Mother--My heart is crushed, my little daughter is dead. I do not want the one who killed her to be punished. I only ask that you warn her so that other children shall not suffer as mine has done."

Those of us who know how exceedingly _revengeful_ the Chinese are by nature will agree that one could scarcely find a more beautiful example of the power and fruit of the Gospel of Jesus Christ than this.

*SKETCH VIII*

*Mr. Doong*

*Mr. Doong*

My husband and I with our children had settled down for a few weeks' stay at one of our out stations, when I noticed one morning at breakfast a strange man sweeping the yard. He looked such a queer bundle of incongruous clothes I could not make out if he were a teacher, a poor farmer, or a coolie. The man's face was so wrinkled and his shoulders so stooped he looked a much older man than his years, which could not have been more than fifty.

"Who is that queer old man?" I asked my husband.

"His name is Doong Lin Huo," he replied, "he has come to study the Gospel and is so grateful for what he is getting he has begged me let him do something to shew his gratitude."

Some days later one of the Evangelists came to me for some medicine for Mr. Doong, saying he was very ill with that foe of native and foreigner alike--dysentery. I had only one small bottle of expensive medicine which I kept for ourselves in case of emergency. It was unopened and when once opened I knew it would lose its strength. So I said:

"I have only medicine for ourselves."

"I fear if something is not done for Mr. Doong he will die," the Evangelist said as he turned away disappointed. This decided me and I hastily gave him out several doses. Later he came for more and a few days passed when Mr. Doong himself appeared dressed up in fine _borrowed_ garments, and his face shining with the extra rubbing he had given it. Before we could prevent him he had prostrated himself before me knocking his head several times on the floor, saying, "Oh, lady, you have saved my life!"

The story of this man's conversion is of interest in that it is typical of thousands in China. His people were farming mountain villagers. Some years ago when visiting his village I was impressed with the picturesqueness of the situation, built as it is on the side of a steep mountain cliff above a rapidly running stream. As we went through this village street we walked up steps as if going up stairs.

Mr. Doong's family was large even for this land, it consisted of several of the old passing generation, also his five sons and their wives and children and some of their sons' wives and their children. All lived within one enclosure. The family owned some land but as the mouths increased it was not sufficient for their needs and some sought employment, especially during the winter months. Mr. Doong himself was among these, he joined a low travelling theatrical company, as cook and lived as low a life while with them as any human being could well live. When the missionary first came across him he was using his animals during the slack winter months to escort travellers over the mountains west of his home.

One day the missionary arrived in the village with his party of preachers on their way to a famous goddess' temple situated two hundred Chinese miles further west among the mountains. Mr. Doong and his animals were hired for the journey. Day by day as the party stopped at noon and for the night preaching was carried on in the open. During those days Mr. Doong caught little else of the preaching than that they were speaking against the gods. He became alarmed and so sure was he that the great goddess would cause some terrible calamity to overtake them on their arrival at their destination he determined to leave the party as speedily as possible, and it was with a sense of real relief that he saw, as he thought, the last of them.

Some weeks later he had occasion to go to the distant city of Lin-Hsien far off among the mountains. Here he found the same missionary with his preachers still preaching as before--and no calamity had befallen them! He began to have doubts as to whether they might not be right after all. Every opportunity was taken advantage of to hear what they had to say with the result that when the time came for him to leave, he turned his face towards home a changed man.

His first step was to destroy the household gods, much to the horror and anger of his family and neighbors, who all believed him to have become bewitched by the foreigner and waited to see some dread judgment fall upon him. Surely facing such odds as bravely as this man did and with quiet steady calmness raises him to the place of a real hero.

His next step was to give up his opium. This he did without the aid of other drugs. He simply sought God's help and got it. His is one of the rare cases we have known of, where the terrible opium habit has been broken without human aid.

Then came his visit to our out-station to learn to read and understand the Bible. It was no easy task for either pupil or teacher at his age, but so earnest was he and diligent that in a few weeks he could read the Chinese New Testament sufficiently well to get the meaning and in a few months had practically mastered its "characters."

Three years passed during which time Mr. Doong had won the highest opinions from missionaries and his fellow Christians. His name was suggested as a probationary evangelist, and although his lack of education was against him, his beautiful spirit, so gentle, and so full of love to all with whom he came in contact, seemed to more than make up for this lack and he was unanimously called to the preaching of the Gospel. As time passed, results from Mr. Doong's ministry amply justified this step, for wherever Mr. Doong was placed the work flourished and converts were added.

On one occasion the writer visited one of these places with her husband. It was a busy pottery centre, known far and wide for its unspeakable immorality. Yet even in this most difficult field Mr. Doong had gathered out a little company of believers.

I shall not soon forget the welcome we received on our arrival after a long trying dusty journey, at the door of the humble place where he lived and where we were to stay. He was so hearty and kind and yet had a certain dignity and courtesy which made me say inwardly, "Can this be the same man who was cook in a low theatrical company?" Yes he was the same, yet not the same, for his whole life, his looks, his wonderful power of holding heathen audiences for over an hour at a time all testified to the power of Christ to save and transform men.

At the close of our visit I told my cook to settle as was the custom with Mr. Doong for the coal we had used during the ten days we had been there. The cook returned to say Mr. Doong refused to take anything for it. I called the dear old man and protested that this would not do. He looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "Mother, Shepherd, will you not allow me the privilege and pleasure of doing even this much for you, when you and your husband have done so much for me? What would I have been had you not come with this blessed Gospel?" With full heart and dim eyes I could only put my hands together and bow low my thanks.

When home on furlough I sent to a missionary for a photo of Mr. Doong for a lantern slide. In due course the photo arrived with a note from Mr. Doong himself, which ran as follows: "Dear Shepherd Mother, I thank you for the compliment you have paid me in asking for my photo. I would reciprocate and ask for yours but there is no need _for your countenance is engraved on my heart!_"

After an absence from our old field for some five years it was a great joy to both my husband and myself to have Mr. Doong once more our co-worker, but it was only for a brief period. Our hard pressed doctor needed the best man we could give him as Hospital Evangelist and Mr. Doong was chosen for this position. There he remained till advancing years with its increasing physical weakness forced his retirement and he returned home, but not to the home of the early years for now almost all had been won to Christianity, as well as many of his neighbors.

"For behold .... how that not many wise after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are called. But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world that he might put to shame them that are wise."

*SKETCH IX*

*Heathenism As I Have Known It*