The Lord will Provide (1852-1853)
Fog-horns were sounding on every hand when a coastingsteamer plying between Hull and London made her way slowly up the Thames. It was Saturday evening, September 25th, and Hudson Taylor amongst others was expecting to land that night. But the pall of mist only gathered more and more heavily over the great city, until there was nothing for it but to cast anchor and wait till morning. By noon it was possible to reach the Tower, and most of the passengers went ashore. A quiet Sunday followed for those who remained on board, for which Hudson Taylor was specially thankful in view of the new phase of life opening before him.
How new it was and how great his need of the strength that comes from God alone no one had any idea but himself. Not to his mother, nor even to the sister who spent the last days with him at Drainside, had he spoken of the decision taken before leaving Hull that now filled his mind as he paced the deck.
Of that decision the following is his own account:
I felt that I could not go to China without having still further developed and tested my power to rest upon His faithfulness; and a marked maearey for doing so was providentially afforded me.
My father had sliced to bear all the expense of my stay in London. I knew, however, that, owing to recent losses, it would mean a considerable sacrifice for, him to undertake this just when it seemed necessary for me to go forward. I had recently become acquainted with the Committee of the Chinese Evangelisation Society, in connection with which I ultimately left for China. Not knowing of my father’s proposition, the Committee also kindly offered to bear my expenses while in London. When these proposals were first made to me, I was not quite clear as to what I ought to do, and in writing to my father and the secretaries, told them that I would take a few days to pray about the matter before deciding any course of action. {| mentioned to my father that I had had this offer from the Society, and told the secretaries also of his proffered aid.
Subsequently, while waiting upon God in prayer for guidance, it became clear to my mind that I could without difficulty decline both offers. The secretaries of the Society would not know that I had cast myself wholly on God for supplies, and my father would conclude that I had accepted the other offer. I therefore wrote declining both, and felt that without anyone having either care or anxiety on my account I was simply in the hands of God, and that He who knew my heart, if He wished to encourage me to go to China, would bless my effort to depend upon Him alone at home.
It was with a brave heart, therefore, that he presented himself at Mr. Ruffles’s boarding-house near Soho Square, early on Monday morning. Here lived his uncle, Benjamin Hudson, and a cousin from Barton-on-Humber who was apprenticed to Mr. Ruffles, a builder and decorator by trade. The uncle, a bright, genial man, was not only a skilful portrait painter, he was something ofa poet also, and a clever raconteur with a remarkable memory for ‘good stories.” He was decidedly popular in the boarding-house and among a
large circle of acquaintances, including more than one medical man to whom he was willing to introduce his nephew with a view to an apprenticeship. The cousin too was friendly, offering to share his attic room with the newcomer and so lessen expenses, if he decided to remain in Soho. This arrangement Hudson gladly availed himself of, for it was a comfort to belong to someone, and Tom Hodson seemed almost like a breath of home.
What a drop in the ocean he felt amid the tides of city life now surging around him! He was in anything but a religious circle, surrounded by people who moved in a world of which he knew next to nothing. Business, politics and pleasure-seeking absorbed their attention, and his uncle and cousin did their best to draw him into the same sort of life. They had quite approved his coming to London to study medicine, and were ready in their own way to give him a helping hand. But his point of view annoyed them.
‘Talk about trusting God,’ his cousin would exclaim, ‘one must trust one’s own exertions too!’
Then his unwillingness to bind himself by an ordinary apprenticeship on account of a call to missionary work in China was something they could not understand, especially when it seemed that the Society to which he was looking was more than indifferent about the matter. And this to Hudson Taylor was the most painful surprise of all.
For when he went to the office of the Chinese Evangelisation Society he was told that nothing definite was arranged as yet. They were awaiting his arrival. Now that he was ready to begin work at the hospital the matter must be laid before the Committee. This would take time, of course. The best thing if there were any urgency would be to send in his application at once, so that it might not miss the next Committee meeting on October 7th, for they only gathered once a fortnight.
October 7th—and it was not yet the end of September. If his case could not be dealt with at the first meeting, he would have to wait another two weeks, and perhaps another. Meanwhile he could take no position; his store of savings was diminishing; and what would they say at the boarding-house where his indefiniteness was a source of amusement already?
Ifhe had known all this in Hull! And yet what difference did it really make? He had not come to London depending on his own resources or on the help of man. If the winds and waves were boisterous, was there not One beside him whose hand was as strong to uphold as His word to bring peace?
He knew the end from the beginning; and since He had been Alpha would surely be Omega, and everything between.
The application was sent in, and while awaiting the issue Hudson Taylor settled down to study as well as he could in the room shared with his cousin. The latter’s ~ occupation allowed him to be frequently at home, and his criticisms, however good-natured, were not a help to quietness of mind.
And the uncertainty was not over when the Committee met. All the action taken was the passing of a resolution requesting him to procure an elaborate set of testimonials to be laid before them at their next meeting. It was Hudson Taylor’s first experience of the working of a fully organised Society, and though he subsequently came to understand the need for a certain amount of ‘red tape’ in such affairs, it was an experience he never forgot in his own dealings with would-be missionaries.
‘Now this is a very serious delay,’ he wrote to his mother, ‘and I intend to see Mr. Pearse today, if possible, and talk with him about it. The required testimonials I do not quite understand, and if they are all considered necessary | shall thank the Committee for their kindness and trouble them no further, as I do not see them consistent with my views. Thank God, I am quite as willing to lose as to gain their assistance. If I have time after seeing Mr. Pearse I will add a few lines, if not I will write by a later post.
“Tet not your heart be troubled”, dear mother. He who has hitherto provided for, protected and guided me, still keeps my mind in perfect peace and will do all things well. How sweet it is to be enabled to trust in Him for all.’
He went over to Hackney in time to catch the busy Secretary before he left for the Stock Exchange, and as he explained his difficulties, Mr. Pearse seems to have understood. The result was that the testtmonials were seen to be superfluous and only a letter or two required from those who knew him best.
‘I am happy to say that things seem to be assuming a more settled appearance,’ he wrote on October 24th, ‘and I expect all being well to commence work at the hospital tomorrow.’
This was not the only answer to his prayers, however, that filled his heart with thanksgiving. Studying as well as he could in that little attic-chamber, he was unconscious that the one who shared it with him was being drawn in spite of himself to the only source of abiding joy and peace. Yet so it was. Tom Hodson, keenly watching his cousin’s experiences, found himself face to face with conclusions he could neither escape nor gainsay. Nothing else, perhaps, would ever have made him feel his own distance from God and need of something more real and satisfying than he had ever possessed. But this did. And before the close of the year Hudson had the joy of seeing him brought to ‘like precious faith’ in Christ, and openly taking his stand in the boarding-house as a Christian.
The hospital at last! It was now almost three years since that December day that had brought Hudson Taylor his definite call to China. Ever since that time he had had medical study in view as the best preparation he could make for future usefulness. With little help and in spite of many obstacles he had persevered, making considerable progress with the practical side of his work. But now the broad highway lay open before him—the lectures, the wards, and all the advantages of a city hospital.
But it is not so much with his outward experiences we are concerned, during this period in London, as with the development of his inward life—the growth of both faith and faithfulness.
Owing to heavy rains, the season was specially depressing. Much of the East End was flooded, with serious results for those who lived near the river or whose employment kept them in the damp, foggy streets. And Hudson Taylor, for a considerable part of every day, was among their number. Lodging at Soho for the sake of remaining with his cousin, he was fully four miles from the hospital in which most of his work was done. This meant a walk of.at least two hours daily, from Oxford Street to Whitechapel, and back across the City to Oxford Street again. The only public conveyance was the old-fashioned omnibus with its three-penny fare each way, a price that was quite prohibitive. So there was nothing for it but to walk; for the young medical student was economising very strictly, denying himself everything that could be done without, partly with a view to helping others.
‘After various experiments,’ he wrote, “I found that the most economical way was to live almost exclusively on brown bread and water. Thus I was able to make the means that God gave me last as long as possible. Some of my expenses I could not diminish, but my board was largely in my own control. A large two-penny loaf of brown bread, purchased daily on my long walk from the hospital, furnished me with supper and breakfast; and on this diet with a few apples for lunch I managed to walk eight or nine miles a day, besides being a good deal on foot attending the practice of the hospital.’
Did the baker guess, who sold that large two-penny loaf of bread, why his customer always waited to have it cut in half? Only half could be taken that night for supper; the remainder had to suffice for the morrow, and experience had proved how very hard it was to make such a division impartially. When at first he tried it for himself, supper had so much the advantage of breakfast that the lad often went hungry the following day.-The baker, however, was disinterested, and laid him under obligation by settling the question on the spot.
Brown bread, apples and water amid the stress and strain of London life proved a very inadequate diet. Hunger and weariness of body, however, were of little moment compared with the longing of his soul. It was the end in view that meant.so much—China in its unutterable need, and what he could do to meet it; God’s purpose, to be apprehended only by faith and prayer.
‘No,’ he wrote in reply to his mother’s enquiries, ‘my health does not suffer. On the contrary, everyone says how well I look, and some even that I am getting fat! Though this, I believe, can only be perceived by rather a brilliant imagination. The walks do not fatigue me as they did at first. But the profane conversation of some of the students is utterly sickening.’
The testing of this period was intensified by an unexpected drain on his already meagre income. Still in touch with his Drainside landlady, he was able to help her by going periodically to a shipping office near Cheapside to draw and forward to her the half-pay from her husband’s salary as chief officer of a ship that sailed from London. On one occasion he was too occupied in working for an examination to take the time to go and collect the money, so sent it to her from his own pocket, intending to visit the shipping office later. When he eventually went, however, he was told that no payment could be made, as the officer in question had run away from his ship and gone to the gold diggings.
_ Very soon after this, possibly the same evening, while sewing together some sheets of paper on which to take notes of lectures, I accidentally pricked the first finger of my right hand, and in a few moments forgot all about it. The next day at the hospital I continued dissecting as before. The body was that of a person who had died of fever, and was more than usually disagreeable and dangerous. I need scarcely say that those of us who were at work upon it dissected with special care, knowing that the slightest scratch might cost our lives. Before the morning was far advanced I began to feel weary, and while going through the surgical wards at noon was obliged to run out, being suddenly very sick—a most unusual circumstance with me, as I took but little food and nothing that could disagree with me. After feeling faint for some time, a draught of cold water revived me and I was able to rejoin the students. I became more and more unwell, however, and during the afternoon lecture on surgery found it impossible to hold the pencil and continue taking notes. By the time the next lecture was over my whole arm and right side were full of pain, and I was both looking and feeling very ill.
Finding that I could not resume work, I went into the dissecting-room to bind up the portion I was engaged upon and put away my apparatus, and said to the demonstrator, who was a skilful surgeon:
‘I cannot think what has come over me,’ describing the. symptoms.
“Why,’ said he, ‘what has happened is clear enough. You must have cut yourself in dissecting, and this is a case of malignant fever.’
All at once it occurred to me that I had pricked my finger the night before, and I asked him if it were possible that a prick from a needle at that time could Have been still unclosed. His opinion was that this was probably the cause of the trouble, and he advised me to get a hansom, drive home as fast as I could and arrange my affairs forthwith.
‘For,’ said he, “you are a dead man.’
My first thought was one of sorrow that I could not go to China; but very soon came the feeling, ‘Unless I am greatly mistaken, I have work to do in China and shall not die.’ I was glad, however, to take the opportunity of speaking to my medical friend, who was a confirmed sceptic, of the joy that the prospect of soon being with my Master gave me, telling him at the same time that I did not think I should die, as unless I were much mistaken I had work to do in China, and if so, however severe the struggle, I must be brought through.
“That is all very well,’ he answered, ‘but get a hansom and drive home as fast as you can. You have no time to lose, for you will soon be incapable of winding up your affairs.’
I smiled a
little at the idea of driving home in a hansom, for by this time my means were too exhausted to allow of such a proceeding, and I set out to walk the distance if possible. Before long, however, my strength gave way, and I felt it was no use to attempt to reach home by walking. Availing myself of an omnibus from Whitechapel Church to Farringdon Street, and another from Farringdon Street onwards, I reached, in great suffering, the neighbourhood of Soho Square, behind which I lived. On going into the house I got some hot water from the servant, and charging her very earnestly—literally as a dying man to accept eternal life as the gift of God through Jesus Christ, I bathed my hand and lanced the finger, hoping to let out some of the poisoned blood. The pain was very severe. I fainted away, and was so long unconscious that when I came to myself I found I had been carried to bed.
My uncle sent for his own medical man, an assistant surgeon at the Westminster Hospital. When the surgeon came and learned all particulars, he said,
‘Well, if you have been living moderately you may pull through, but if you have been going in for beer and that sort of thing there is no manner of chance for you.’
I thought that if sober living was to do anything, few could have a better chance! I told him I had lived abstemiously and found that it helped me to study.
‘But now,’ he said, ‘you must keep up your strength, for it will be a pretty hard struggle.’ And he ordered me a bottle of port wine every day and as many chops as I could consume.
I smiled inwardly, having no means for the purchase of such luxuries. This difficulty, however, was met by my kind uncle, who sent me at once all that was needed.
I was much concerned, notwithstanding the agony I suffered, that my parents should not be made acquainted with my state. Thought and prayer had satisfied me that I was not going to die, but that there was indeed a work for me to do in China. If my dear parents should come up and find me in that condition, I must lose the opportunity of seeing how God was going to work for me now that my money was almost come to an end. So, after prayer for guidance, I obtained a promise from my uncle and cousin not to write to my parents, but to leave me to communicate with them myself. I felt it a very distinct answer to prayer when they gave me this promise, and I took care to defer all communication with Barnsley until the worst was over. At home they knew that I was working hard for an examination and did not wonder at my silence.
Days and nights of suffering passed slowly by; but at length, after several weeks, I was sufficiently restored to leave my room; and then I learned that two men, though not from the London Hospital, who had had dissection wounds at the same time as myself, had both succumbed, while I was spared in answer to prayer to work for God in China.
Now he was faced with the necessity of getting back to his home in Yorkshire for convalescence. Still determined to prove to himself that God would send help in response to his prayer, he told no one of his need for money for the fare. “What am I to do?’ he prayed, and waited for the answer. To his surprise, he found his mind directed to the shipping office, to enquire about the wages he had previously been unable to draw.
I reminded the Lord that I could not afford to take a conveyance, and asked whether this impulse were not a mere clutching at a straw, some mental process of my own rather than His guidance.
After prayer, however, and renewed waiting upon God, I was confirmed in my belief that He Himself was directing me to go to the office.
The office was at least two miles away, and he had needed help even in coming downstairs. But his weakness only provided another occasion to prove the efficacy of prayer.
1 asked in the name of Christ that the strength might immediately be given: and sending the servant up to my room for my hat and stick, I set out not to attempt but to walk to Cheapside.
Never had he taken so much interest in shop windows as on that occasion! He paused every few yards to regain strength, and when eventually he reached his destination, had to sit on the stairs for a while before ascending to the first floor where the office was situated.
I felt my position to be a little peculiar, sitting there on the steps so evidently spent, and the gentlemen who rushed up and downstairs looked at me with an enquiring gaze. After a little rest, however, and a further season of prayer, I succeeded in climbing the staircase, and to my comfort found in the office the clerk with whom I had hitherto dealt in the matter. Seeing me looking pale and exhausted he kindly enquired as to my health, and I told him that I had had a serious illness and was ordered to the country, but thought it well to call first and make further enquiry, lest there should have been any mistake about the mate having run off to the gold diggings.
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I am so glad you have come, for it turns out that it was an able seaman of the same name that ran away. The mate is still on board; the ship has just reached Gravesend and will be up very soon. I shall be glad to give you the half-pay up to date, for doubtless it will reach his wife more safely through you. We all know what temptations beset the men when they arrive at home after a voyage.’
But before giving me the sum of money, he insisted on my coming inside and sharing his lunch. I felt it was the Lord indeed who was providing for me, and accepted his offer with thankfulness. When I was refreshed and rested, he gave me a sheet of paper to write a few lines to the wife, telling her of the circumstances. On my way back I procured in Cheapside a money order for the balance due to her, and posted it; and returning home again felt myself now quite justified in taking an omnibus as far as it would serve me.
Very much better the next morning, I made my way to the surgery of the doctor who had attended me, feeling that although my uncle was prepared to pay the bill it was right for me now that I had money in hand to ask for the account myself. The kind surgeon refused to allow me as a medical student to pay anything for his attendance, but he had supplied me with quinine which he allowed me to pay for to the extent of eight shillings. When that was settled, I saw that the sum left was just sufficient to take home; and to my mind the whole thing seemed a wonderful interposition of God on my behalf.
I knew that the surgeon was sceptical, and told him that I should very much like to speak to him freely, if I might do so without offence; that I felt that under God I owed my life to his care, and wished very earnestly that he himself might become a partaker of the same precious faith that I possessed. So I told him my reason for being in London, and about my circumstances, and why I had declined the help of both my father and the officers of the Society in connection with which it was probable that I should go to China. I told him of the recent providential dealings of God with me, and how apparently hopeless my position had been the day before when he had ordered me to go to the country, unless I would reveal my need, which I had determined not to do. I described to him the mental exercises I had gone through; but when I added that I had actually got up from the sofa and walked to Cheapside, he looked at me incredulously and said,
‘Impossible! Why, I left you lying there more like a ghost than a man.’
And I had to assure him again and again that, strengthened by faith, the walk had really been taken. I told him also what money was left to me and what payments there had been to make, and showed him that just sufficient remained to take me home to Yorkshire, providing for needful refreshment on the way and the omnibus journey at the end.
My kind friend was completely broken down, and said with tears in his eyes, ‘I would give all the world for a faith like yours.’
Two days later he was back in his parents’ home, and so full of joy at the Lord’s help and provision that he could not keep it to himself. Before he returned to London his mother had discovered the way in which he had been living.
I need scarcely say that when I went up again to town I was not allowed to live, as indeed I was not fit to live, on the same economical lines as before my illness.
A change in his circumstances eased matters further, when after six months at Soho he obtained a position as assistant to a surgeon in the city.
Meanwhile, events were taking place in China that deepened his longing to go there. News was slowly filtering its way from the inland provinces that filled the Western world with astonishment. The Taiping Rebellion, first recognised in 1850, had attatned remarkable proportions. Arising in southern China, it had swept over the central provinces and was now in possession of the larger part of the Yangtze valley, including the famous city of Nanking. There, in the former capital of the Empire, the new ruler had established his seat of government, and with a conquered country behind him had rallied his forces for the march upon Peking. But it was not only the success attending this movement that made it a matter of such extraordinary interest in Christian lands. There was about it a character such as no analogous events in history had ever before possessed.
Arising among a heathen people, entirely apart from foreign influence, this mighty upheaval, as far as it had developed, appeared to be a crusade upon distinctively Christian lines. The Ten Commandments formed the moral code of the new kingdom. Idolatry in all its phases was abolished with unsparing hand, and the worship of the true and living God substituted, in purpose at any rate. The Christian Sabbath was recognised
as a day of rest and prayer, and all restrictions were removed from the preaching of the Gospel.
‘I have promulgated the Ten Commandments,’ wrote the Taiping leader to the only missionary of his acquaintance,’ ‘throughout the army and the rest of the population, and have taught them all to pray, morning and evening. Still those who understand the Gospel are not many. Therefore I deem it right to send the messenger in person to wish you peace, and to request you, Elder Brother, if you are not disposed to abandon me, to (come and) bring with you many teachers to help in making known the Truth and to administer the ordinance of baptism.
‘Hereafter, when my enterprise is successfully terminated, I will disseminate the Doctrine throughout the whole Empire, that all may return to the one Lord and worship the true God only. This is what my heart earnestly desires.’
Scarcely less surprising was their attitude towards Western nations. Opium-smoking was utterly prohibited, and the Taiping leader made no secret of his purpose to stop the importation from abroad. But for foreigners as such, their Christian ‘brothers’ from across the seas, they expressed a deep cordiality of feeling.
‘The great God,’ they said, ‘is the universal Father of all under Heaven. China is under His government and care. Foreign nations are equally so. There are many men under Heaven, but all are brethren. Many women are under Heaven, but all are sisters. Why should we continue the selfish practice of regarding a boundary here or a limit there? Why indulge the wish to devour and consume one another?’
No wonder Hudson Taylor with many others saw in all this the moving of God’s providence. What kings and governments could never have accomplished, was not He in His own wonderful way rapidly bringing to pass? But how immense the responsibility thus imposed upon the Church, and how little prepared was she to meet it!
In view of all these happenings, though he was studying medicine Hudson Taylor felt no inclination to tie himself down to distinctively medical’ work. His desire was to use his knowledge rather as an aid to evangelisation in districts that had never yet been reached. This was the work to which the Lord had called him; deep down in his own soul he knew it beyond a doubt. But whether the Chinese Evangelisation Society would approve was quite another question.
To judge from their rules and regulations they would expect, at any rate, to maintain absolute control over the movements of their representatives. These were spoken of as Agents, and were expected to subscribe to by-laws that perplexed him with their detailed requirements; and over against all this was his growing conviction about the work to which he personally was called. The hand of God was upon him. So far as he was concerned, this was the great fact, the chief consideration. And if the rightful authority of the Committee in London had to be considered as well, how would the two fit in?
Eventually he wrote to the Society stating what appeared to him to be obstacles in his entering the College of Surgeons at their expense.
‘Their rules are no doubt reasonable and essential for such an organisation,’ he explained to his mother. ‘But to me, to be educated at their expense and of course subject to these regulations would be like removing myself from the direct and personal leading of God, because I should become the servant of the Society. Having no money I could not release myself honourably, and in any case, for nine months at least (the period required as notice) I should be unable to act. It is possible to pay too dearly even for great advantages, and this is more than my conscience allows me to do.’
But all this preoccupation with important matters was not allowed to interfere with daily duties, and he did not attempt to evade or to defer the supreme duty of leading men to Christ. The unsaved at home were just as much a burden on his heart as the unsaved in China. Always and everywhere he was a soul-winner.
One of his employer’s patients had been a hard drinker, and now in middle life was suffering from senile gangrene. His condition was serious, and his hatred of everything to do with religion so intense that it seemed hopeless to try to influence him. Hudson Taylor wrote:
The disease commenced as usual insidiously, and the patient had little idea that he was a doomed man and probably had not long to live. I was not the first to attend him, but when the case was transferred to me I became very anxious about his soul. The family with whom he lived were Christians, and from them I learned that he was an avowed atheist and very antagonistic to anything religious. They had without asking his consent invited a Scripture Reader to visit him, but in great passion he had ordered him from the room. The vicar of the district had also called, hoping to help him, but he had spat in his face and refused to allow him to speak. His temper was described to me as very violent, and altogether the case seemed as hopeless as could well be imagined.
Upon first commencing to attend him I prayed much about it, but for two or three days said nothing of a religious nature. By special care in dressing his diseased limb I was able considerably to lessen his sufferings, and he soon began to manifest appreciation of my services. One day with a trembling heart I took advantage of his grateful acknowledgments to tell him what was the spring of my action, and to speak of his solemn position and need of God’s mercy through Christ. It was evidently only a powerful effort of self-restraint that kept his lips closed. He turned over in bed with his back to me, and uttered no word.
I could not get the poor man out of my mind, and very often through each day I pleaded with God, by His Spirit, to save him ere He took him hence. After dressing the wound and relieving the pain, I never failed to say a few words to him which I hoped the Lord would bless. He always turned his back looking annoyed, but never made any reply.’
After continuing this for some time my heart sank. It seemed to me that I was not only doing no good but perhaps really hardening him and increasing his guilt. One day after dressing his limb and washing my hands, instead of returning to the bedside I went to the door and stood hesitating a moment with the thought in my mind, ‘Ephraim is joined to his idols, let him alone.’ Looking at my patient I saw his surprise, as it was the first time since opening the subject that I had attempted to leave without saying a few words for my Master.
I could bear it no longer. Bursting into tears, I crossed the room and said: ‘My friend, whether you will hear or whether you will forbear, I must deliver my soul,’ and went on to speak very earnestly, telling him how much I wished that he would let me pray with him. To my unspeakable joy he did not turn away, but replied:
‘If it will be a relief to you, do.’
I need scarcely say that falling upon my knees I poured out my soul to God on his behalf. Then and there, I believe, the Lord wrought a change in his soul. He was never afterwards unwilling to be spoken to and prayed with, and within a few days he definitely accepted Christ as his Saviour.
The now happy sufferer lived for some time after this change, and was never tired of bearing testimony to the grace of God. Though his condition was most distressing, the alteration in his character and behaviour made the previously painful duty of attending him one of real pleasure. I have often thought since in connection with this case and the work of God generally of the words, ‘He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.’ Perhaps if there were more of that intense distress for souls that leads to tears, we should more frequently see the results we desire. Sometimes it may be that while we are complaining of the hardness of the hearts of those we are seeking to benefit, the hardness of our own hearts and our own feeble apprehension of the solemn reality of eternal things may be the true cause of our want of success.
Very shortly after this the way cleared suddenly for Hudson Taylor. All had seemed uncertain before him, and especially since his letter to the Chinese Evangelisation Society about discontinuing his studies he had scarcely been able to see a step ahead. Very earnestly had he been praying for guidance, longing with all his heart to know and do the will of God. And now the light shone suddenly, and in the way he had least expected: because the time had come, and there is behind events, as the old prophet tells us, ‘a God... which worketh for him that waiteth for him’ (Isa. 64.4 Rv).
Events had succeeded one another in China with startling rapidity. Since their conquest of Nanking in March, the Taipings had carried all before them, sweeping over the central and northern provinces until Peking itself was almost within their grasp.* This could mean but one thing: if Peking surrendered, China would forthwith be thrown open to the Gospel. The very possibility, imminent as it was, proved a powerful stimulus to missionary effort. Christian hearts everywhere were aflame. Something must be done, and done at once to meet so great a crisis. And for a time, money poured into the treasuries.
In the light of these new developments the Committee of the C.E.S. had been reconsidering their position. The only representative they had in China was the German - missionary Lobscheid, labouring near Canton. They had long wished to supply him with a fellow-worker, and now decided to send two men to Shanghai also, to be ready for pending developments. Money was not the difficulty, their income having considerably increased within the last few months, but suitable men would not be easy to find.
Thus it was that early in June a letter was written to Hudson Taylor.:
17 Red Lion Square
June 4th, 1853 My Dear Sir—As you have fully made up your mind to go to China, and also not to qualify as a surgeon, I would affectionately suggest that you lose no time in preparing to start. At this time we want really devoted men, and I believe your heart is right before God and your motives pure, so that you need not hesitate in offering.
I think you will find a difficulty in carrying out your plan (of self-support), as even Mr. Lobscheid could not get a free passage. It is a very difficult thing to obtain. The expense for a single man is about £60. Might not the time you want to spend in acquiring a knowledge of Ophthalmics be spent more profitably in China?
If you think it right to offer yourself, I shall be most happy to lay your application before the Board. It is an important step, and much earnest prayer is needed. But guidance will be given. Do all with thy might, and speedily.
—TI am, my dear sir, very truly yours,
Charles Bird
After that things moved rapidly. Only a few weeks later the following paragraph appeared in The Gleaner:
On Friday, the 9th of September, a meeting was held at the rooms of the Chinese Evangelisation Society at 7 o'clock in the evening, for the purpose of commending to the protection and blessing of God, Mr. James Hudson Taylor, on going out as a missionary to China. Mr. J. H. Taylor embarked on the Dumfries, Captain A. Morris, for Shanghai. The vessel left Liverpool on the 19th of September.
Thus was Hudson Taylor launched on his life-work.