The Hundred (1886-1888)
The Mission was still very young. It had been founded little more than twenty years, and out of a total of 187 no fewer than 110 were junior missionaries. Nearly two years had passed since Taylor had come out in advance of the Cambridge Seven, but the way was not yet clear for his return to England. The chief object before him was the formation of a Council in China, and the year 1886 was drawing to a close when the Superintendents of the various. provinces gathered for the first meeting. J. W. Stevenson, in his new capacity as Deputy Director, had just returned from an inland journey, full of enthusiasm over what he had seen in the northern provinces. Coming freshly into responsibilities that Taylor had been bearing - for years, he brought with him an accession of hope and courage.
“We all saw visions at that time,’ he himself recalled. ‘Those were days of Heaven upon earth; nothing seemed difficult.’ It was this spirit of faith and expectancy which launched the Mission upon a new enterprise in which to prove again the faithfulness of God. Up in Shansi it had begun, when Stevenson had written from the capital:
We are greatly encouraged out here, and are asking and receiving definite blessings for this hungry and thirsty land. We are fully expecting at least 100 fresh labourers to arrive in China in 1887..
It was the first suggestion of the Hundred. Ardent and full of confidence in God, Stevenson kept the matter to the fore on his return to Shanghai and in the Council Meetings, but Taylor seems at first to have shared the general impression that this was going rather too fast. 100 new workers in one year, when the entire staff of the Mission was less than twice that number—why, even if the men and women were forthcoming, think of the additional expenditure involved!
‘Yes,’ urged the Deputy Director, ‘but with needs so great how can we ask for less?’
That was difficult to answer. For fifty central stations and many out-stations in which resident missionaries were needed, not to speak of China open from end to end, made 100 new workers even in one year seem but a small number.
Such was the atmosphere of faith and prayer that the thought could strike root. Before long Taylor was writing home quite naturally:
We are praying for 100 new missionaries in 1887. The Lord help in the selection and provide the means.
A little later he was working at accounts, etc. with a view to leaving for England as soon as possible, when an incident occurred that fanned expectancy to a flame. He was dictating to his secretary, walking up and down the room as was his wont; when he repeated in one of his letters what he had written above: “We are praying for and expecting 100 new missionaries to come out in 1887.’ Did he really mean it? Stevenson saw the secretary, a young man who was himself to be one of the Hundred, look up with an incredulous smile. ‘If the Lord should make windows in heaven,’ that look seemed to say, ‘then might this thing be.’ Hudson Taylor saw it too, and immediately caught fire!
“After that, he went beyond me altogether!’ recalled Stevenson. “Never shall I forget the conviction with which he said;
“If you showed me a photograph of the whole Hundred, taken in China, I could not be more sure than Iam now.”
‘Then I sent out a little slip throughout the Mission: “Will you put down your name to pray for the Hundred?” and cabled to London with Mr. Taylor’s permission: “Praying for a hundred new missionaries in 1887.”
Thus the step was taken, and the Mission committed to a programme that might well have startled even its nearest friends. Yet it was in no spirit of rashness or merely human energy. Far too deeply had Taylor learned the lessons of experience to embark upon such an enterprise without the assurance that he was being led of God. To an inner circle of friends he wrote in December:
Will you help us in prayer as often as you can? This movement will involve great responsibility and much toil, time, and expense. Much correspondence about the candidates will be needed; much prayer and thought about which of them to accept and which to decline. The labour of arranging for and attending farewell meetings, to secure the prayers
of at least six congregations for each party that comes out, will be great. Outfits and passages for 100 people will come to £5,500, and travelling expenses for many of them from distant parts of Great Britain and Ireland, as well as the cost of board in London, will materially add to this sum. The money, much of it, will come to our office at Pyrland Road in small gifts, each calling for a letter of thanks, which will involve additional help in correspondence, etc. So we shall have much need of Divine guidance, help, and strength, all of which He will supply, but for which He will be enquired of.
Am I wrong then in asking your prayers for myself and for those who will be associated with me in this important work? As I look forward in faith and think of the ‘willing, skilful’ men and women who are coming—of the barren fields they will help to till, of the souls they will be the means of saving, and above all of the joy of our Redeemer in this movement and its widespread issues—iny heart is very glad, and I think yours will be too.
It was this vision, this spirit of joy that upheld him through all the wonderful and strenuous days of.1887. And what a year it was! It was preceded by two days of prayer—‘We need two days at least. We have much to praise for, but Satan will be busy, and we must be prepared by living near to God.’ With growing courage Taylor and those associated with him were led to pray for £10,000 of additional income, as necessary to meet the increased expenses; and that it might be given in large gifts, so that the home staff should not be overwhelmed with correspondence. The year ended with the last party of the Hundred on their way to China, all expenses met, not ten but eleven thousand pounds of extra income having been received, the whole coming in just eleven gifts!;
That, briefly, is what happened, but it did not all come about so simply. ‘We want workers, not loiterers,’ was one of the first things Taylor wrote after his return to England, and he certainly set an example by his own unparalleled labours throughout that year. With brief intervals for correspondence and Council meetings he was travelling and speaking all the time. The letters he wrote during the year averaged thirteen or fourteen for every day of the twelve months, Sundays excepted. And these were not business notes, or mainly to do with his programme of meetings. They were many of them long, thoughtful letters to Stevenson about the direction of affairs in China; answers to correspondence sent on to him from the field, which required careful consideration; and replies to people who consulted him about spiritual and other difficulties, having been helped through the meetings.
Three visits to Ireland and four to Scotland, an extensive campaign on the subject of World Evangelisation, and attendance at no fewer than twenty conventions for the deepening of spiritual life, in most of which Taylor spoke repeatedly, were but part of his outward activities. Besides these there were farewell meetings in churches of all denominations, as party after party went out, and frequent addresses in drawing-rooms or from the pulpit to the circles the young missionaries represented. Then the Council was so busy with those who came before them in London, that they had occasionally to meet twice and three times a week, to get through the work.
“We were in Glasgow last week,’ wrote Jennie Taylor in March, ‘holding one, two, or three meetings every day; and my husband had conversations with forty candidates.’
And in Edinburgh, at the very time she was writing, he was dealing with twenty more. At one meeting in the Scottish capital, so deep was the interest that 120 people definitely offered themselves for foreign missionary work, to go or stay as God might lead.
At Pyrland Road, meanwhile, Benjamin Broomhall was no less busy and encouraged. Invited to breakfast with a friend in London early in the year he found himself one of several guests who had at heart the interests of the kingdom of God. Conversation turning on the C.I.M., Broomhall took from his pocket a letter which had touched him deeply. It was from a poor widow in Scotland who, with only a few shillings a week to live upon, frequently sent gifts for the work in China. She could do without meat, she said, but the heathen could not do without the Gospel. Very real was the self-denial that lay behind the simple words, and very real the prayers with which the modest gifts were accompanied. This it was, doubtless, that led to results from that letter far beyond anything the writer can have asked or thought.
At the close of the meal, the host said that all he had ever given to the work of God (and he had given much) had never ‘cost him a mutton-chop. His interest had been chiefly in home missions, but he wanted now to forward the evangelisation of China. And to Broomhall’s surprise, he then and there promised £500 for the work of the C.I.M. A little further conversation round the table led to similar promises from three of the guests, while another who had been unable to come, upon hearing what had transpired made up the sum to £2,500. And on the twenty first anniversary of the sailing of the Lammermuir party, a letter from Mr. Berger came as a token for good, bringing a gift of £500—the second or third he had given—towards the outgoing Hundred.
No wonder Hudson Taylor began his address at the Anniversary Meetings by recalling the quaint saying of a well-known coloured evangelist: ‘When God does anything, He does it handsome!’ That very morning another cable had been received from China, announcing a donation of £1,000 towards the expenses of the Hundred—fifty-four of whom were already either sent out or accepted. Up to that time all who were ready among the accepted candidates had gone forward, and Taylor could with confidence say:
God is, in this matter of funds, giving us signs that He is working with us; that this work is pleasing to Him, and that therefore He is prospering it. He will give the whole Hundred, and He will provide for them.
It was about the beginning of November, when Taylor had the joy of announcing to the friends of the Mission that their prayers were fully answered—all the Hundred had been given and the funds supplied for their passages to China.
‘Six times that number offered,’ wrote Dr. Eugene Stock in the History of the Church Missionary Society, ‘but the Council, faithful to its principles, declined to lower the standard, and rejected five-sixths of the applicants; yet the exact number of one hundred—not ninety-nine nor a hundred and one, but 100 actually sailed within the year. Still more significant of God’s blessing is the fact that, seven years later, seventy-eight of the Hundred were still on the C.I.M. staff; and of the remainder, five had died, and most of the others were‘still labouring in China, though in other connections. Does the whole history of Missions afford quite a parallel to this?’
At the end of December Taylor returned to London, and wrote his last letter of the year to Stevenson.
I have assured the friends that there will be a big Hallelujah when they, the crowning party of the Hundred, reach Shanghai! It is not more than we expécted God to do for us, but it is very blessed; and to see that God does answer, in great things as well as small, the prayers of those who put their trust in Him, will strengthen the faith of multitudes.
Among many visitors to Pyrland Road toward the close of the year of the Hundred came Henry W. Frost, one who in a special way was to be identified with the enlargement of Taylor’s influence and the sphere of the Mission. Finding Taylor still away in Scotland, he took a room nearby, and quietly gave himself to studying the work of which he had heard enough to bring him across the Atlantic. In spite of the pressure of those days, the Broomhalls welcomed the young stranger, giving him every opportunity to become acquainted with the inner life of the Mission, and all he saw only deepened the desire with which he had come. Of this he was writing to Taylor in the middle of December:
About five months ago I began- correspondence with Mr. Broomhall from America, my home, concerning going to China. As the result of that correspondence I am now at Pyrland Road, and have been here long enough to satisfy myself concerning the spiritual standing of the China Inland Mission, and to confirm my own desire of connecting myself with it. But I came to London with a larger purpose in view. It has been laid on my heart for many months past to talk with you and Mr. Broomhall about the establishment of an American Council that might work as a feeder of men and money for China, on the same principles of faith that have made the China Inland Mission so favourably known. Meeting Mr. Forman in Glasgow I found that he, too, had been praying for something of the same kind for a long time, and that Mr. Wilder, his companion, had also had the matter laid on his heart.
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From his meetings in Scotland, bringing to a successful issue the work of that memorable year, Taylor returned just as simple, quiet, natural as ever, to banish in a moment any apprehension his visitor had left as to the interview. A little note from Glasgow, ‘fragrant with the love of Christ,’ had prepared the way for what proved an important conversation.
‘Fear did indeed vanish on that occasion,’ wrote Henry Frost, ‘for I found him at leisure from himself, and most gentle and kind. From that hour my heart was knit to this beloved servant of God in unalterable devotion.’
But though their intercourse resulted in an abiding friendship, it seemed to the one who was building much upon it to have failed in its object. His interest in the Mission was warmly appreciated and his desire to work with it welcomed, but Taylor could not see his way to the establishment of an American branch. It would be, he suggested, far better for Frost to start a fresh organisation on the lines of the C.I.M. if he pleased, but something that would be native in its inception and development; for a transplanted mission, like a transplanted tree, would have difficulty in striking root in the new soil. Needless to say _ this was a great disappointment.
“On reaching my lodgings,’ the visitor recalled, ‘I had one of the most sorrowful experiences of my life. At’the threshold of my room, Satan seemed to meet me and envelop me in darkness. I had come over 3,000 miles only to receive to my request the answer, No. But this was not the worst of it. I had had positive assurance that the Lord had Himself guided me in my prayer, and had led me to take the long journey and make the request that had been made; but now I felt I could never again be sure whether my prayers were or were not of God, or whether I was or was not being guided of‘Him.’
Only those who have passed through similar experiences can know what such a test of faith meant, and how real was the victory when eventually he was enabled to trust where he could not understand. This restored “something of soul-rest,’ and Frost went back to America leaving the issues with the Lord.
The matter did not end there, however. Frost had learned that Taylor was returning to China before long, and that if invited to do so he might travel by way of America. This he made known to the Conveners of the Bible Study Conference at Niagara-on-the-Lake and to D. L. Moody, with the result that invitations began to reach Taylor to visit the great new world.
Meanwhile, in England, the latter was unremitting in his labours. The widespread interest aroused by the outgoing of the Hundred brought more openings for meetings than he could possibly accept, and very stimulating to faith were the facts he had to tell.
‘What a wonderful year it has been, both for you and me!’ he wrote to Stevenson early in 1888. ‘Satan will surely leave no stone unturned to hinder, and we must not be surprised at troublesome difficulties coming up; but greater is He who is for us than all who can be against us.’
The certainty of opposition, definite and determined, from the powers of darkness seems to have been much before him, and the question of funds for the largely increased work was one that could not be ignored. He had written a few weeks previously.
You must continue very earnestly in prayer and secure the prayers of our friends generally, that God will magnify His Name and adequately sustain the work with funds. Nothing is clearer to me than that in obtaining a hundred for this year we have obtained at least a second hundred. To send them out and sustain them will require another £10,000 of additional income; and in times like these it is a tremendous rise from a little over twenty to forty thousand pounds annually. One is so glad that God has Himself asked the question, ‘Is anything too hard for the Lord?’ But we must not forget that He will “be enquired of by the house of Israel, to do it for them.’ If we get less prayerful about funds, we shall soon get sorely tried about funds. Thank God, there is no need to be less prayerful. We can well afford to be more prayerful, and to God be the glory.
At the Annual Meeting in May 1888, he said, ‘Suppose He should not work in the way He has done, by sending in tens of thousands of pounds? Well, then, we can do without it. We cannot do without Him, but we can do without any “it” in the world. If only we have the Lord, that is sufficient.’
It was a summer day towards the end of June when the S.S. Etruria put out to sea. Taylor was finding, almost with surprise, that parting from those he loved best did not become any easier. A long while might elapse before he could return, and the very uncertainty was painful.
“As I walked the deck last night,’ he wrote to Jennie, ‘I found myself singing softly, “Jesus, I am resting, resting in the joy of what Thou art’”—such a comfort when feeling desolate, and feeling your desolation! No one comforts like He does.’
‘Few know what is betwixt Christ and me,’ wrote the saintly Rutherford; and little can his fellow-passengers on that Atlantic voyage have realised what lay behind the quiet exterior of the missionary on his way for the seventh time to China. Yet the sweetness was felt, and the power; and by no one more than the young American who was on the New York landing stage to meet him. There was about Henry Frost’s spiritual nature a quality that responded in an unusual way to much of which he could be, as yet, but dimly conscious in the life of Hudson Taylor. It was with joy at any rate that he received the party, including Mr. and Mrs. Reginald Radcliffe, and escorted them to his father’s home in Madison Avenue.
Of the three months that followed it is difficult to write, not for lack of information but because of the very fullness of the records and the importance of events that took place. Who could have foreseen that, arriving in America in July, little known and with no thought but to take part in a few conferences on his way to China, Taylor would leave again in October, widely loved and trusted, laden with gifts, followed by prayer, and taking with him a band of young workers chosen out of more than forty who had offered their lives for service in the Mission? If the going out of the Hundred in the preceding year had been a striking evidence of the hand of God working with him, what shall be said of this unexpected movement, deeply affecting Christian life in the Eastern States and Canada?
Only two summers before had the Student Volunteer Movement been called into being, but already it had attained remarkable proportions. Over 2,000 undergraduates had signed the declaration: ‘I am willing and desirous, God permitting, to become a foreign missionary.’ All this, it seemed, had a direct connection with the China Inland Mission. “The story of the Cambridge band, particularly the account of the visits of a deputation of these students to other British universities, with their missionary message, made a profound impression on us,’ wrote Charles Ober, one of the early leaders. ‘Here really was the germ thought of the Student Volunteer Movement.’ If he had been aware of this, however, Hudson Taylor had no thought of anything growing out of his visit to America in regard to the China Inland Mission.
‘I was glad to come when my way was providentially opened,’ he recalled, ‘I wanted to see Mr. Moody, and had heard of over 2,000 students wishful to consecrate their lives to God’s service abroad. The American societies, I thought, are not quite in a position to take up these 2,000, and perhaps if we tell them about God’s faithfulness they will find it written in their Bibles not “be sent” but “go”. I believe in verbal inspiration, and that God could have said “be sent” if He had wished it, instead of oo) “go”. I hoped I might be able to encourage some to “go”.
As to bringing forward the work of the Mission with a view to developing an American branch, nothing was further from his thoughts. Had he not told Frost only a few months earlier that he had no guidance in that direction, sending him back from England perplexed and disappointed? And if it was not in Taylor’s purpose, still _ less was it anticipated by those to whom his personality and message came as so new a force that summer at Northfield. The Student Conference was in full swing when he and his companions arrived and, met by D. L. Moody himself, were driven out to his beautiful home. 400 men from ninety different colleges filled the Seminary buildings, and overflowed in tents on the far-reaching campus backed by hills and woods.
The afternoon was kept entirely free for recreation.
‘Delegates should come fully equipped for bathing, tennis, baseball, football, hill-climbing and all other outdoor exercises,’ ran the official invitation.‘‘They should also bring their own reference Bibles and a good supply of notebooks.’
Morning and evening the spacious auditorium was filled for devotional meetings and Bible study. It was an inspiring assembly, including many pastors, professors, Y.M.C.A. secretaries, and leading philanthropists. The corps of speakers was able and representative, and Moody, who presided, was at his best. But it was in the young men themselves the inspiration lay—such power, such possibilities! Hudson Taylor could not but be moved by such an audience, and to him the students seem to have been attracted in a special way.
“With the exception of my own father,’ said Robert Wilder many years later, “Mr. Taylor was the man who was the greatest spiritual help to me. When he came to Northfield and appealed on behalf of China, the hearts of the delegates burned within them. And he not only made the needs of the mission field very real; he showed us the possibilities of the Christian life. The students loved to hear him expound the Word of God. He was a master of his Bible, and his sympathy and naturalness attracted men to him. His addresses were so much appreciated that Mr. Moody had to announce extra meetings to be held by him in the afternoons—so many of the students were anxious to hear more from the veteran missionary. Eternity alone can reveal the results of that life, and the effect of his words upon our Student Movement. What impressed us undergraduates was not merely the spirituality of Mr. Taylor, it was his common sense. One asked him the question: “Are you always conscious of abiding in Christ?”
“While sleeping last night,” he replied, “did I cease to abide in your house because I was unconscious of the fact? We should never be conscious of not abiding in Christ.”
“When asked, “How is it that you can address so many meetings?” he said to us: “Every morning I feed upon the Word of God, then I pass on through the day messages that have first helped me in my own soul.”
“You can work without praying, but it is a bad plan” was another of his sayings, “but you cannot pray in earnest without working.” And “Do not be so busy with work for Christ that you have no strength left for praying. True prayer requires strength.”
‘It was not, however, the words only of Mr. Taylor that helped us, it was the life of the man. He bore about with him the fragrance of Jesus Christ.’
It was not until Taylor had been nearly a month in America that it began to dawn upon him that there was a larger purpose concerning this visit than any he had in view. His increasingly full programme had brought him, a few days previously, to a conference at Niagara-on-the- Lake, a special feature of which was the large number of ministers present, Canadians as well as American, of various denominations. Taylor was only able to speak twice, having to pass on to Chicago for other meetings, but the impression made was profound. Personal love to the Lord Jesus as typified in the Song of Solomon, and faith in God (or the faithfulness of God rather, upon which faith is to lay hold), were his subjects, and he scarcely made any reference to China or the Mission. Frost wrote later,
One of the leading evangelists present confessed that the addresses had come to him almost as a revelation, and many others shared this feeling. Hearts and lives were brought into an altogether new relationship to God and Christ, and not a few, in the joyfulness of full surrender, quietly but finally offered themselves to the Lord for His service anywhere and everywhere.
Of this and subsequent happenings Taylor knew nothing.
His visit to Chicago ended, he had come east again to Attica, a lovely village in the state of New York, where Mr. Frost senior and his son had their summer homes. The son was expected on the midnight train from Niagara, and Taylor was at the station to meet him, but little thinking of the news he had to bring.
Unexpected developments had taken place at the Niagara meetings after Taylor’s departure. Disappointed at not hearing more from him on the subject of foreign missions, the Conference all the more welcomed the addresses of Reginald Radcliffe and Robert Wilder, for which the way had been well prepared. Burning words were spoken by the veteran evangelist and the young volunteer on the responsibility of each succeeding generation of believers to obey the great command, ‘Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.’ He had learned, Wilder told them, the secret of how to work for the Lord twenty-four hours a day, and to keep on doing so all the year round. It was a lady who had made the discovery. When asked how it was possible—
‘I work twelve hours here,’ she replied, ‘and when I have to rest, my representative in India begins her day, and works the other twelve.’
“We want many from the Niagara Conference to work twenty-four hours a day like this,’ he urged. ‘Christian friends, you who cannot go, why not have your own representative on the foreign field?’
This was a new idea, but seemed so reasonable that Radcliffe was kept busy answering questions as to how much it would\take to support a worker in the China Inland Mission. $250 a year (£50) he’ thought would suffice,” and a meeting was appointed to see what was to be the practical outcome. Dr. W. J. Erdman was in the chair, but the occasion was not one for much direction or control.
“After singing and prayer,’ he wrote, ‘the Secretary, who had in mind the general guidance of the meeting, suddenly found himself entirely emptied of every idea and preference, and the Spirit of the Lord came upon the believers present. The rest of the hour was filled with voluntary praises, prayers and consecration of young men and women to service in the foreign field. It was a meeting never to be forgotten, and money for the China Inland Mission came in without advertisement or urging on the part of any.’
But even this experience was surpassed next day when the Conference reassembled.
‘As I reached the Pavilion,’ wrote Henry Frost, to whom gifts and pledges of money sufficient for the support of two missionaries had been given the previous evening, ‘I found that ' people had become intoxicated with the joy of giving, and that they were seeking another opportunity for making free-will offerings for the Lord’s work in China. A number were standing up, pledging themselves to give a certain amount toward the support of a missionary, and some were saying that they wanted to work twenty-four hours a day by having a missionary all to themselves. Again promises and money came flowing in until, this time, I had scarcely a place to put them. There I stood in the midst of the assembly—without ever wishing it or thinking such a thing could be—suddenly transformed into an impromptu Treasurer of the China Inland Mission. And afterwards, upon counting what had been given, I found enough to support not two missionaries but actually eight, for a whole year, in inland China.’ MS
Returning to his room that summer morning Frost could not but remember the sorrowful experience through which he had passed in London, when he had wondered whether he could ever know that prayer was really answered, or be assured of the guidance of God again. The faith that had sustained him then was being exchanged for sight, and as he poured out his heart in wondering thankfulness he realised how safe and good it is ‘not only to wait upon God, but also to wait for Him’.
This then was the story he had to tell, when upon reaching Attica at midnight he found aa on the platform to meet him.
‘I kept my secret, however,’ he continued, ‘until we reached my father’s house and Mr. Taylor’s bedroom. Then I described to him how after his departure from Niagara the Spirit had swept over the Conference; how the offerings had been given and put into my hands to pass on to him; and how they had been found to amount to a sum sufficient to support eight missionaries for a year in China.
‘Quietly he listened, and with such a serious look that I confess, for once in my life, I was disappointed in Mr. Taylor. Instead of being glad, he seemed burdened. If I remember rightly, he did just say “Praise the Lord”, or “Thank God”, but beyond this there was nothing to indicate that he accepted the news as good news, as I had anticipated. For a few minutes he stood apparently lost in thought, and then said:
““T think we had better pray.”
‘Upon this we knelt beside the bed, and he began to ask what the Lord meant by all that had taken place. It was only as he went on pleading for light that I commenced to understand what was in Mr. Taylor’s mind. He had realised at once that this was a very marked providence, and that God had probably brought him to America for other purposes than simply to give a few addresses on his way to China. He had enquired from me how the money was to be used, and I had replied that it was designated, by preference, for the support of North American workers. From this he saw that the obligation was laid upon him of appealing for missionaries from North America—a heavy responsibility, in view of all that it involved. It was becoming clear to him, as to me, that my visit to London and appeal for a branch of the Mission to be established on this continent had been more providential than was at first recognised.’
Unexpectedly a crisis had arisen, fraught, as Taylor could not but see, with far-reaching results. The problem that faced him, after little more than three weeks in America, was no simple one, and as yet the man at his side, young and retiring as he was, had not been recognised as the providential solution.
‘I think we must have an American branch of the Mission,’ Taylor wrote to Stevenson. ‘Do not be surprised if I should bring reinforcements with me.’
The conclusion to which Taylor was thus being led was, strongly confirmed on his return to Northfield. D. L. Moody _ advised his appealing at once for workers, and introduced him to some of his own students who were feeling called to China. But even then it was with fear. and trembling that he went forward. The Mission had always been interdenominational, but twenty-one years of experience had made its leader cautious. ‘I never felt more timid,’ he said a year later, ‘about anything in my life.’ But once his mind was made up, the appeal was a strong one.
‘To have missionaries,and no money would be no trouble to me,’ was the way he put it; ‘for the Lord is bound to take care of His own: He does not want me to assume His responsibility. But to have money and no missionaries is very serious indeed. And I do not think it will be kind of you dear friends in America to put this burden upon us, and not to send some from among yourselves to use the money. We have the dollars, but where are the people?’
One by one prepared men and women responded to the call. When the first three were accepted, Taylor began to be relieved about the funds in hand. Their passages had been promised independently, but their support for the first year would use a considerable part of the money contributed at Niagara ‘if things went smoothly.’ But from this point of view, things did not go at all smoothly. Parents, friends, or the churches to which they belonged claimed the privilege of sustaining these workers. When as many as eight had been accepted, the original fund was still untouched, and the further they went the less chance there seemed of getting to an end of it. Consecrated money, Taylor remarked, was something like the consecrated loaves and fishes, there was no using it up!
But all the while, out of sight, there was a quiet force of prayer at work that went far to account for the wonderful things that were happening. Taylor and his party were so carried forward on a tide of interest and enthusiasm that it was all they could do to keep up with their programme, and prolonged seasons of prayer—save for his early morning hour—were impossible. But in the retirement, of that country home at Attica a man was on his knees, prevailing with God. A serious illness that threatened the life of his father kept Henry Frost from travelling, and when not required in the sick room he had more leisure than usual for thought and prayer. He saw, with the clearness of a listening soul, the way in which things were tending. Money continued to come to him for the support of missionaries in China, and in the middle of August he sent out a circular letter to the contributors asking ‘many and fervent prayers’ that the right persons might be chosen, and that some might be ready to sail without delay, that the opportunity of Hudson Taylor’s escort might not be lost. To the latter he wrote also:
Please very specially remember the C.I.M.’s relation to America. I dare not seek to influence you, yet I ask most earnestly that you will consider the question, Will it not be well to establish a branch here?
Meanwhile Taylor, as he moved about, was increasingly impressed with the spirit and enterprise of American Christians, and with the interest in China awakened among them. By the middle of September the number of applicants to join the mission had risen to over forty. In Hamilton he found a band of young people who seemed prepared in a special way for his message. From the Secretary of the Y.M.C.A. he learned that they were united in earnest prayer that seven of their number might be privileged to go as missionaries to China, and among the party that sailed with him a few weeks later were four young women and three men from the Hamilton Christian Associations, the Secretary himself following by way of Europe.
The culminating experience of the American visit was the farewell meeting in Toronto.
‘Sunday night, September 23rd, 1888, saw the greatest and most enthusiastic gathering ever held in Toronto up to that time,’ wrote one who was present. ‘The place was the Y.M.C.A., the hour 8.30 p.m., just after the evening services in the churches. One might say that the cream of Toronto’s religious life was gathered there, to hear the Rev. J. Hudson Taylor and the men and women accepted by him for work in China. The power of God was manifest in a wonderful way, and as a result a great and abiding impetus was given to foreign missions.’
Writing after the meeting, Mrs. Reginald Radcliffe reported,
The Y.M.C.A. Hall was so full that an overflow meeting had to be held, and hundreds went away unable to get in. On Monday Mr. Taylor had to leave for Montreal, but it was arranged for the missionary party and their friends to meet at nine the following evening, to take the Lord’s Supper together, going from the church to the station. It was said that from 500 to 1,000 people were at the station, singing and cheering. Finally my husband led in prayer, the great concourse ‘repeating the words aloud after him... and slowly the train moved away.
Surely not the least remarkable of the converging providences by which Taylor was led to go forward was the generous, devoted co-operation of Henry Frost. He was ready to assume whatever responsibility Taylor gave him, and an incident happened in Toronto which confirmed Taylor’s assurance that he was being guided by God. They had come prayerfully to the conclusion that a temporary Council should be formed until, after consultation with friends in London and Shanghai, more permanent arrangements could be made. Mr. Sandham of the Christian Institute undertook the responsibility of Hon. Secretary in Canada, with Frost occupying a similar position in the United States. But the time was short in which to arrange for a Council.
In an upper room at the Institute Taylor was in conference with the two men. It was the day after the farewell meetings which had moved Toronto so profoundly, and that very day he was to leave for Montreal. The names of some who were felt suitable to join a provisional Council were before him, but he had not time to arrange interviews with them. He was about to ask the others to act for him when a knock was heard at the door. Great was the surprise of those within when the visitor proved to be one of the men in question. Hardly had Taylor explained to him the circumstances and received his assurance of willing co-operation, however, before another knock came, and a second of those whose names had been mentioned appeared. He, too, was glad to serve on the Council, and they were all feeling impressed with the hand of God in the matter, when yet another visitor came seeking Sandham. It seemed almost too wonderful to be true when the third of the friends entered whom Taylor had desired to meet before leaving—especially when it transpired that two of the three had not been in the building for months, and had no idea that he was there. ‘They were indeed sent by the Lord,’ was Henry Frost’s comment, ‘and we were never disappointed in the choice He had made.” |