Part 16

While the T’aiping Rebellion was still in full swing, the London missionaries performed a courageous act. Having succeeded in purchasing a large tract of land at some distance from the foreign Settlement and the Chinese City, they at once effected the transfer of their work and took possession of the new property. When the British Consul learned of it he shook his head dubiously, affirming frankly that if the missionaries were rash enough to risk living in that exposed place, he could not undertake to furnish them protection. But unaffrighted they stayed on, and presently a hospital, a chapel, and a few dwelling houses arose amidst the rice fields. Events proved that the missionaries builded better than they knew, for the plot that at first seemed so far away and out of reach of the very people the work was intended to benefit is now in the heart of one of the most thickly populated Chinese districts of the International Settlement.

The mission chapel bears the marks of age and is shortly to be torn down and replaced by a more commodious one, but will the tablets back of the chancel, to the memory of the brave missionary veterans, ever seem quite so appropriate on any other walls? At the Christian Endeavour meeting held in the chapel every Wednesday afternoon may usually be seen a little white-haired lady of over ninety, the oldest Chinese Christian in Shanghai and some say in all China. Though exceedingly deaf, Mrs. Lai Sun’s memory is unimpaired and her mind as alert as a woman half her age. She delights to see her friends and entertain them with stories of her romantic life, how in her earlier years she visited America with her parents, dined at the White House as the guest of President and Mrs. Grant and was made much of at a time when Chinese women were a rarity in the Occident. But her favourite topic is her student days in Miss Aldersey’s school in Ningpo, Miss Aldersey being not only the first single woman to enter China as a missionary, in 1843, but the first one to open a school for Chinese girls. Mrs. Lai Sun is without question the only living pupil of that far-famed school.

The chapel built so long ago by Dr. Medhurst in the Chinese city is still standing, sandwiched in between a book shop on one side and a shop selling funeral supplies on the other. Its years exceed the allotted age of man, and if bricks could speak, many a tale this pile could relate of fires and floods, famines and pestilence, riots and rebellions. While destruction was rife and changes taking place all around, the little chapel, within whose walls was proclaimed daily the Evangel of Peace, remained intact as if it possessed a charmed existence.

It is rather singular that to-day there is not a single hospital foreign or Chinese, in the populous Chinese City. The small plant started so long ago by Dr. Medhurst was transferred, in 1861, with the other activities of the Mission, to the new site, now known as Shantung Road, where a great medical work is carried on. Accident cases are especially numerous in the roomy wards, where an empty bed is rarely seen, and hundreds attend the daily clinic.

In the centre of another crowded district is beautiful St. Elizabeth’s Hospital of the American Episcopal Mission. This hospital, which is for women only, receives patients from the Municipal Prison, and when one looks about the cheerful, sunny wards, it ceases to be a wonder that the poor creatures often make a feint of illness in order to be kept on a little longer where they are so happy and comfortable.

One other woman’s hospital is located near the western entrance to the Chinese City. Thirty-five years ago a large-hearted American, Margaret Williamson, had a vision of helpless sufferers in China, and in dying left money for a hospital which bears her name. While waiting for the building to be completed, the doctor and trained nurse just out from home opened a dispensary in a small rented house in the disease-infected Chinese city. They toiled on day after day through all the unaccustomed heat of July and August. “Some friend ought to have warned us of the danger of it,” one of them, years afterward, smilingly told a caller. “How did the Chinese feel about the hospital? Were the women afraid to go to it?” “Oh, not at all. We were always full. In fact it was necessary to keep enlarging our borders as fast as we could get the money.” The sweet face in its frame of snow-white hair broke into a reminiscent smile, and the listener knew something interesting was coming. “We used to have most amusing clinic experiences. Patients many times would persist in taking internally what was meant for external application. It was necessary to be careful and give nothing strong enough to do any great harm either way. Then, too, the women would get so excited and jealous over the medicines. If one patient received something and another did not, the latter felt unhappy. It did no good to explain to her that she wasn’t in need of that particular medicine. She wanted it just the same. I remember one time the doctor had ordered a large dose of castor oil for a patient. Her companion saw it and begged for some too. She was so persistent that I finally asked the doctor if I should give it to her. “Yes, do,” said she. “It can’t hurt her and the experience may do her good.” The clinics are very large. On a winter’s afternoon an unexpected visitor found one young doctor in sole charge, her colleague having been taken sick. She that day treated two hundred and forty-seven dispensary patients besides caring for the wards and performing three difficult operations. “I shall not stay a minute,” declared the caller when the last woman had departed, “you must rest.” “Oh, do sit down a little while. I need to get my mind off my work,” urged the doctor. Just then the friend, noticing the exhausted look on the wan face before her, remarked impulsively, “I wish I could take you home with me and put you to bed and give you a little mothering.” “Don’t speak to me like that,” cried the younger woman almost sharply, while a few hot tears forced themselves into her eyes. “I shall break down and cry if you do, and I mustn’t; I mustn’t!” This hospital belongs to that pioneer in the field of woman’s work for women, The Woman’s Union Missionary Society of America.

The glory of the Presbyterian Mission is its Press. In 1843, that year of momentous happenings in the Far East, it was first set up in Macao, a Portuguese settlement near Canton and of chief interest to Protestants because on its tropical shores Robert Morrison, the first Protestant missionary to China, was laid to rest. Soon afterward the Press was brought north to Ningpo, and in 1860 was moved to Shanghai. With it came Mr. Gamble, whose name was William and not John, but if ever a man was “sent of God” to do an all-important work, he was one. A native of Ireland, from an old Protestant family that had the honour of giving many ministers to the Presbyterian Church, he migrated to America in his youth and got his training as a printer in a publishing house in Philadelphia and later in the Bible House, New York. Mr. Gamble spent only eleven years in China and nine of them in Shanghai, but in that brief period he accomplished a monumental work. With a prophet’s eye he foresaw the future development of the city when few believed in it and urged the removal of the Press to this metropolitan centre, influenced “by his desire to plant the Gospel in the heart of China with the minimum of effort and the maximum of results.” His energy, industry, and inventive genius gave a great impulse to printing throughout the country, not only in connection with the mission press but the secular press as well. This was so universally recognized that when he died years later in America every one realized the truth of the eulogy pronounced at his funeral: “For a century to come not a Bible, Christian or scientific book in China or Japan but will bear the impress of Mr. Gamble’s hand.”

The Presbyterian Press justly claims to be the oldest in China, although the London Mission Press, established by Robert Morrison in Malacca in 1818, was removed to Hongkong, at very nearly the same time. The Presbyterian Press was the first to introduce movable Chinese type in China, and for a long time remained the sole source of supply. During the fifty-seven years since the plant was set up in Shanghai it has changed homes several times and is now housed in new, completely equipped quarters which would have delighted the aspiring soul of William Gamble. A dozen power presses are kept busy from Monday morning till Saturday night turning out vast quantities of Christian literature, veritable “Leaves of Healing,” which find their way the year through to the remotest corners of this needy, sin-cursed land and whose uplifting influence far outreaches all human reckoning.

Among the Chinese publications which are working a quiet transformation in the lives of the people are two popular monthly magazines, “The Woman’s Messenger” and “Happy Childhood.” The very artistic cover of a recent Christmas number of “Happy Childhood” was designed by one of the pupils in a Girls’ Baptist Mission Boarding School.

The spiritual interests of the large force of Press employees are not forgotten. In two chapels Sunday and week-day services are held. There are day schools and a kindergarten for the children of the men, the wife of one of the Presbyterian missionaries devoting much of her time to evangelistic work among the women. Every morning prayers are conducted by the missionary in charge, attended by most of the employees, at least half of whom are Christians. Many give touching and convincing proof of the sincerity of their profession. The case of Elder Loo is an illustration and refutes the oft-repeated assertion that no Chinese can handle money without some of it clinging to his palm. For twenty years all the Press’s money excepting checks passed through Mr. Loo’s hands. He died one night very suddenly. It was with considerable anxiety that the foreign manager the next morning opened the accountant’s safe and examined his books, but they balanced exactly. In a corner of the safe were found stowed away several bad dollars that had been palmed off on Mr. Loo, but which he had quietly made good out of his own meagre funds.

“Where did you receive your education?” The question was asked of a bright young Chinese matron into whose pretty home a foreign friend had just been introduced. “In McTyeire School,” came the smiling answer. This reply, in response to similar inquiries, is given so often in Shanghai that a newcomer, unfamiliar with local mission work, is sure soon to ask another question: “What and where, pray, is this famous institution?” Every resident knows, or nearly every one. Those who do not are half ashamed to confess it, for to be uninformed about McTyeire Girls’ School is to be ignorant indeed. Its capacious buildings are kept full, too full, even though the younger pupils have just been transferred to rented Chinese houses across the road, the Assembly Hall converted into dormitories and every available foot of space utilized to the best advantage.[2] Pleasant recitation rooms open from either side of the school corridors and a peep inside shows well organized classes hard at work, in algebra, drawing, physics, sewing, domestic science. What an immaculate place is the domestic science kitchen, with snowy tables, muslin window curtains, shining stove, and artistically arranged enamel pots and pans! No wonder the cooking class covers itself with laurels. The missionary in charge modestly disclaims the credit, but adds, “I do mean that my girls shall learn two important lessons, to keep themselves tidy and to clean up when their work is done,” items that it would do no harm to emphasize in other countries than China. The music rooms are upstairs. An invitation to a musicale is something to rejoice over. Last year one of the graduates in music gave a recital, all her own, and acquitted herself most creditably. Two years ago Commencement week opened with Baccalaureate Sunday, a distinct innovation in the history of Girls’ Schools in China, but a custom other mission schools are beginning to follow.

[2] Since writing the above a splendid piece of property covering about fifteen acres, with a three-story brick mansion on it built by a wealthy deceased Chinese, has been purchased, and the congestion is relieved now that the High School pupils have removed to the new quarters.

It is doubtful whether any department of work in McTyeire School is yielding more abundant fruit than the “Annex,” a school for married women and girls too old or backward to enter the regular classes. Last term among the many interested pupils was the wife of the socialist leader of Shanghai, the mother of five young children. The patriarchal system of family life common in China makes it possible for a mother to leave her children for lengthy periods, as there are usually plenty of women relatives ready to assume the care of them in her absence. Any pupil in the Annex ambitious to pursue a complete course of study is admitted to the regular school classes as soon as she can be prepared for them.

Above the mantel in the parlour of the Missionary Home, adjoining the main building, hangs the portrait of a noble-faced woman. It is Laura Haygood, the first principal, who “being dead yet speaketh.” She was sent to China in 1884 by the Woman’s Board of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, and for eight memorable years prayed and toiled, much of the time weighed down by great physical weakness. Then came the glad realization of her cherished hopes in the opening of this girls’ school named for a bishop of the denomination.

The highest grade of scholarship is the goal, but the building up of Christian character and training for service have always had first place. “I want to save my people,” sobbed a girl in a burst of confidence to her foreign teacher. “As soon as I finish here I mean to go as a missionary to my native place and teach and try to save that place.” This is the spirit that prevails among the Christians. Every week Bible students and teachers go out to hold services for the street children in the neighbourhood. Last winter evangelistic meetings were held in the school chapel. “I wish you could see how our Christian girls work for their unconverted friends,” said one of the missionaries. “They have their sweetest and holiest times in their own little prayer-meetings, led by themselves. The passionate earnestness of their prayers and testimonies would move any heart.”

It was the beautiful month of May and invitations were out for a great celebration at St. John’s University of the Protestant Episcopal Mission. Early in the afternoon guests began to arrive, for the first number on the programme was the military drill, set for two o’clock, something no one wanted to miss. Promptly at the hour the students in trim uniforms assembled on the parade-ground and lined up for inspection. The tactics over, and enthusiastically applauded, every one hurried to the Assembly Hall to listen to speeches in English and Chinese, and witness the crowning event of the day, which was the presentation to the President, Dr. F. L. Hawks Pott, for the University, of a generous gift of money from the alumni in commemoration of this twenty-fifth anniversary of Dr. Pott’s incumbency. An alumni supper followed, and then, as evening shadows fell, the spacious grounds were transformed into a sort of fairyland by the soft light from countless Chinese lanterns, hung in graceful festoons from tree to tree and building to building. Fireworks brought to a close a notable anniversary that will not soon be forgotten by the people of Shanghai.

St. John’s University and campus, covering forty-nine acres, is undeniably the most charmingly picturesque spot in the city. It lies five miles out from the centre of the town in the suburb of Jessfield. A more ideal location could not have been found, and the wonder is that when the larger part of the property was bought as early as 1878, the bishop who made the purchase had the foresight to choose so well.

Like most great enterprises, the University had a small beginning and developed gradually, through successive stages. The work really started back in 1845 with some little day schools for boys, for it must be remembered that while the London Mission pioneers were the vanguard of the missionaries to enter Shanghai, they were soon reinforced from America by the Protestant Episcopalians, the Presbyterians and the Southern Baptists. The day schools grew into successful boarding schools, chief among them one for older boys,--seventy youths so poor that tuition, board, and clothing were furnished them free of charge. Soon a call came for an English department and it was added. By and by a few ambitious students begged for college work, and finally, in 1906, by an act of Congress at Washington, D. C., St. John’s was formally incorporated as a University and empowered to grant degrees. Her alumni are now privileged to enter institutions in Europe and America for post-graduate work without examination, and she has the honour of sending more students abroad than any other mission college in China. Including all departments the student body numbers over five hundred, whose fees make the work in large measure practically self-supporting.

A five-story brick building was opened last year in one of the busiest sections of the down-town district, not in itself a singular occurrence, but in this case of unusual purport, for it is the headquarters of the Chinese Boys’ Branch of the Young Men’s Christian Association. This is the only building of its kind in the Far East, and it is certain that nowhere in the world is the kind of work it stands for more needed than in Shanghai, where the boy problem is one of the gravest. Figures are often dry reading, but in this connection a few will tell in a nut-shell a story of remarkable progress. The Boys’ Branch was started less than three years ago, and now what does the first report record? Seven hundred members, five hundred in the schools, three hundred voluntary members of Bible classes, one hundred regular boarders, two hundred at meals each day, and forty scouts, the scoutmaster being one of the Chinese secretaries. In the city are altogether no less than five hundred Chinese scouts. The organization among the Chinese is quite new but it may be called a “howling success,” the boys taking to it like ducks to water, and it is doing much for them in numberless ways. The Y.M.C.A. boy scout, who is taught reverence toward God, kindness to women, children, the aged, and animals, truth, honesty, courage, faithfulness without pay, loyalty and obedience to all in authority, and who stands for clean thought, clean speech, and clean habits, is bound to grow up into the kind of man that China has dire need of to-day. The new Boys’ Building is finely equipped from top to bottom and connects with the local headquarters of the Y.M.C.A., which fronts on Szechuan Road.

The National offices are likewise in Shanghai but in rented quarters. An eligible building site has been secured, and as soon as money is a little less scarce the work of construction will begin. The local headquarters is a centre of ceaseless activity, with day and evening schools offering all kinds of practical courses, gymnasium and swimming classes, athletic and reading clubs, “movies,” lectures, socials, Bible classes, and evangelistic meetings. A busier hive can not be imagined. It was the Y.M.C.A. that led in the Mott and Eddy Evangelistic Campaigns, it has inaugurated a health movement in the interest of sanitation and the prevention of disease, it has attacked the problem of social service which it is stressing by every available means, and it brought to China the Olympic Games with their rejuvenating, health-giving influences. Through its remarkable scientific lecture department it is reaching men that could not be approached in any other way. In short, the Association is a “live wire” and a tremendous force for good.

The Sunday Service League was organized by the Y.M.C.A. for the benefit of the large body of students from abroad who so easily slip their moorings and go adrift on their return to China. There is a well-attended five o’clock service in English for them on Sunday afternoons which is often addressed by notable speakers passing through Shanghai. Excellent music is furnished by the Chinese Glee Club, composed of both men and women. The Returned Students Club was a spontaneous outgrowth of the Sunday Service League. It holds occasional socials during the winter in the parlours of one of the foreign hotels, where music, conversation, a few simple games, and light refreshments make a most enjoyable evening. The gentlemen, all of whom wear foreign clothes, represent almost every profession and calling. With scarcely an exception the women appear in Chinese dress; wherein they show their good taste and good sense, for nothing becomes them half so well. Most of them are happy young wives and mothers, but there is sure to be a generous sprinkling of unmarried teachers, specializing it may be in English, music, elocution, physical training, or kindergarten work, with perhaps a doctor or two, a charming company in short, such as only Shanghai can bring together.

The Young Women’s Christian Association is a younger organization in China than the Young Men’s Christian Association, but it is doing on a somewhat smaller scale the same efficient work. The first secretary was sent to China in 1903 expressly to labour among the mill hands. It was later felt, however, that this plan of campaign was too slow, and that to win the upper and middle classes, make Christian leaders of them, and then send them out to evangelize the multitudes, would yield larger and more lasting fruitage. So this is the course being followed now, and the outcome abundantly proves its wisdom. The consummation of a long-cherished hope has been realized in the opening of a National Normal School in Shanghai for Physical Training. The school is under the direction of a foreign secretary of large experience, assisted by a Chinese secretary, a graduate of Wellesley College who received her professional training in Boston. One result of the interest aroused by the work of the Normal School is the recent organization of a Young Woman’s Athletic Association, with a charter membership of twenty-six. Wonderful indeed!

The school classes are always popular, especially with young married women who have been deprived of early school advantages. Besides teaching from books there are classes in embroidery, plain sewing, stenography, and cooking. Chinese girls are delighted to understand a little about foreign cooking, especially if they are the wives of young men who have been educated abroad, and it is a proud moment for them when they are able to serve their husbands with some of the dishes the latter have learned to relish during their residence in the Occident. The first class in Scientific Chinese Cooking has just been started, with a most gratifying show of interest.