China at Last (1853-1854) (part 1 of 2)

Moored at her landing in a Liverpool dock lay the doublemasted sailing ship Dumfries, bound for China. A little vessel of barely 470 tons, she was carrying but one passenger, so there were few well-wishers to see her off. Repairs that had delayed her sailing had just been hurried to completion, and the crew were still busy getting the cargo on board. But in the stern cabin, amid the din and hubbub, Hudson Taylor knelt in prayer for the last time with his mother.

Hardly could they realise that it was indeed the last time for so long. Since the decision of the Committee there had been much to do and think of, and they had had little time to dwell upon the meaning of it all. After a visit to Barnsley, where he took leave of his sisters, and meetings at Tottenham and in London commending him to God, the outgoing missionary had come on to Liverpool, where he had been joined by his mother. His father, and Mr. Pearse representing the Chinese Evangelisation Society, had also come to see him off, but on account of delays in the sailing of the ship had been obliged to return. So the mother and son were much alone as the time drew near, and now the parting had come. Here is her account of it:

Dear Hudson comer in prayer. Only once was there a slight falter, while commending the objects of his love to the care of his heavenly Father—a momentary struggle, and all was calm again. Yet he did not forget that he was entering upon a course of trial, difficulty and danger; but looking forward to it all he exclaimed, ‘None of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry, which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God.’ It was a time ever to be remembered.

Then came my moment of trial—the farewell blessing, the parting embrace. A kind hand was extended from the shore. I stepped off the vessel, scarce knowing what I did, and was seated on a piece of timber lying close at hand. A chill came over me and I trembled from head to foot.

As the vessel was receding we lost sight of him for a minute. He had run to his cabin, and hastily writing in pencil on the blank leaf of a pocket Bible, ‘The love of God which passeth knowledge—J.H.T.,’ came back and threw it to me on the pier.

Another ‘Farewell, God bless you,’ and the deep waters of the Mersey became a separating gulf between us. While we still waved our handkerchiefs, watching the departing ship, he took his stand at-its head and afterwards climbed into the rigging, waving his hat. Then his figure became less and less distinct, and in a few minutes passenger and ship were lost to sight.

His own recollections of that parting, recorded long after, show how deeply the son too shared its cost.

My beloved mother had come over to Liverpool to see me off. Never shall I forget that day, nor how she went with me into the cabin that was to be my home for nearly six long months. With a mother’s loving hand she smoothed the little bed. She sat by my side and joined in the last hymn we should sing together before parting. We knelt down and she prayed—the last mother’s prayer I was to hear before leaving for China. Then notice was given that we must separate, and we had to say goodbye, never expecting to meet on earth again.

For my sake she restrained her feelings as much as possible. We parted, and she went ashore giving me her blessing. I stood alone on deck, and she followed the ship as we moved toward the dock-gates. As we passed through the gates and the separation really commenced, never shall I forget the cry of anguish wrung from that mother’s heart. It went through me like a knife. I never knew so fully, until then, what ‘God so loved the world’ meant.

And I am quite sure my precious mother learned more of the love of God for the perishing in that one hour than in all her life before.

Oh, how it must grieve the heart of God when He sees His children indifferent to the needs of that wide world for which His beloved, His only Son suffered and died.

The voyage thus begun was long and tedious in some ways to the solitary passenger on board the Dumfries. Five and a half months passed during which they touched nowhere, and heard no tidings of the rest of the world. But it was a health-giving, enjoyable experience on the whole, after the first terrible days were over.

For never surely did vessel weather worse perils than this little sailing ship before she could reach the open sea. It almost seemed as though the great enemy, “the prince of the power of the air,’ knowing something of the possibilities enfolded in one young life on board, was doing his utmost to send her to the bottom. For twelve long days they beat about the Channel, alternately sighting Ireland and the dangerous Welsh coast. During the first week they were almost continuously in the teeth of an equinoctial gale, until driven into Caernarvon Bay they were within two boats’ length of being dashed to pieces on the rocks. That midnight scene, amid the foaming breakers, and the way in which they were delivered when all hope seemed gone, made a profound impression upon Hudson Taylor. He wrote describing it:

It was a fearful time. The wind was blowing terrifically, and we were tearing along at a frightful rate—one moment high in the air and the next plunging head foremost into the trough of the sea as if about to go to the bottom. The windward side of the ship was fearfully elevated, the lee side being as much depressed; indeed the sea at times poured over her lee bulwarks.

Thus the sun set, and I watched it ardently.

“Tomorrow thou wilt rise as usual,’ I thought, “but unless the Lord works miraculously on our behalf a few broken timbers will be all that is left of us and our ship.’

The night was cold, the wind biting, and the seas we shipped continually, with foam and spray, wet us through and through.

As the sun went down a sense of loneliness and desolation began to come over him, so that for a time he was ‘much tried and very anxious.’ He thought of the sorrow involved to his loved ones should the Dumfries be lost; of the expense to the Society, his passage and outfit having cost little short of £100; of the unprepared state of the crew, as well as of ‘the coldness of the water and the struggle of death.’ About his eternal happiness he had not a moment’s doubt. Death itself was not dreaded. But death in such circumstances! The journal continues:

I went below, read a hymn or two, some Psalms and John 13-15, and was comforted; so much so that I fell asleep and slept for an hour. We then looked at the barometer and found it rising, and I asked the Captain whether we could clear Holyhead or not.

‘If we make no leeway,’ he replied, ‘we may just do it. But if we drift, God help us!’ d

And we did drift. Our position was now truly awful. The night was very light, the moon being unclouded, and we could just see land ahead. I went below. The barometer was improving, but the wind in no way abated. I took out my pocket-book and wrote in it my name and home address, in case my body should be found. I also tied a few things in a hamper which | thought would float and perhaps help me or someone else to land. Then commending my soul to God my Father, and my friends and all to His care, with one prayer that if it were possible this cup might pass from us, I went on deck.

I asked the Captain whether boats could live in such a sea. He answered, ‘No.’ Could we not lash the loose spars together and make some sort of raft? He said we should probably not have time.

The water was now becoming white. Land was just ahead. “We must try to turn her and tack,’ said the Captain, ‘or all is over. The sea may sweep the deck in turning and wash everything overboard but we must try.’

This was a moment to make the stoutest heart tremble. He gave the word and we tried to turn outwardly, but in vain. This would have saved us room. He then tried the other way, and with God’s blessing succeeded, clearing the rocks by not more than two ships’ length. Just as we did so, the wind most providentially veered two points in our favour, and we were able to beat out of the Bay.

Had not the Lord thus helped us, all our ‘efforts must have been in vain. Truly His mercy is unfailing. ‘Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness and for his wonderful works to the children of men.’

Safe for the present, it was with unspeakable thankfulness they saw the sun rise on Monday morning and the storm gradually pass away..

Many years later, writing of this experience, Hudson Taylor lifted the veil on another aspect of it not recorded in his letters home.

One thing was a great trouble to me that night. I was a very young believer, and had not sufficient faith in God to see Him in and through the use of means. I had felt it a duty to comply with the earnest wish of my mother, and for her sake to procure a swimming-belt. But in my own soul I felt as if I could not simply trust in God while I had it, and my heart had no rest until on that night, after all hope of being saved was gone, I had given it away. Then I had perfect peace, and strange to say put several light things together, likely to float at the time we struck, without any thought of inconsistency!

After the storm was over, the question was settled for me through the prayerful study of the Scriptures. God gave me then to see my mistake; probably to deliver me from a great deal of trouble on similar questions. It is a mistake that is very common in these days, when erroneous teaching on faith healing does much harm, misleading some as to the purposes of God, shaking the faith of others and distressing the minds of many. When in medical or surgical charge of any case, I have never thought of neglecting to ask God’s guidance and blessing in the use of appropriate means, nor yet of omitting to give thanks for answered prayer and restored health. It would now appear to me as presumptuous and wrong to neglect the use of those measures which He Himself has put within our reach, as to neglect to take daily food, and suppose that life and health might be maintained by prayer alone.

In the Bay of Biscay Hudson Taylor discovered that there was one more earnest Christian on board, the Swedish carpenter, and assured of his help, asked the Captain’s permission to commence regular services among the crew.;

Sixty times during the remainder of the voyage meetings were held, Hudson Taylor giving unwearied prayer and preparation to this ministry. It was a great help to him personally and did much to save him from the spiritual declension that so often accompanies life at sea, his only sorrow being that so little permanent change was found in the lives of the men. They were interested, and would come to him at times for private talk and prayer, but though some were very near the Kingdom, none of them came out fully on the side of Christ. This was a keen disappointment but no doubt in some ways the experience was useful, preparing him ‘to sow beside all waters,’ even when for a long time no fruit appeared.

There were times in his solitude when home seemed far away and the longing for those he loved became intense.

How widely we are separated, who last year were so near. Praised be God, He is unchangeable; His mercy never fails.

Found in a book lent me by Captain Morris, The Hebrew Mother, and was much affected by it. Never shall I forget the last time I heard it. Mother was present: my dearest—played it; and when we came to the lines:

_ I give thee to thy God,

The God that gave thee—

Mother broke down, and clasping me in her arms wept aloud at the thought of parting. May the Lord bless her and comfort her heart day by day.

Jesus is precious. His service is perfect freedom. His yoke is easy and His burden light. Joy and peace His people have indeed. Absent from home, friends, and country even, Jesus is with me. He is all, and more than all. Much as my heart yearns ‘to see them, the love of Christ is stronger, more constraining.

This love of Christ in him was deepening, face to face with facts that had been only hearsay before. The lonely inhabitants of many an island, for example, between Java and the Philippines drew forth his compassion. They had already sighted land some weeks before, in rounding the Cape of Good Hope, but not until the nearest point to Australia was reached did they begin to enter the archipelago lying between the Indian and Pacific Oceans. For almost a month they were hardly ever out of sight of beautiful, fertile, populous islands, of which he wrote.

O what work for the missionary! Island after island, many almost unknown, some densely peopled, but'no light, no Jesus, no hope full of bliss! My heart yearns over them. Can it be that Christian men and women will stay comfortably at home and leave these souls to perish?

But with all its interests the voyage seemed tedious towards the close, especially in the frequent calms of this Eastern Archipelago. Only for a single day during that month among the islands had they a steady wind, and more than once their log did not exceed seven miles in the twenty-four hours. Such experiences were not only tedious, they were accompanied with serious danger.

‘Never,’ as Hudson Taylor put it, ‘is one more helpless than in a sailing ship with a total absence of wind and the presence of a strong current setting towards a dangerous coast. In a storm the ship is to some extent manageable, but becalmed one can do nothing; the Lord must do all.’

One definite answer to prayer in such circumstances was a great encouragement to his faith. They had just come through the Dampier Strait but were not yet out of sight of the islands. Usually a breeze would spring up after sunset and last until dawn. The utmost use was made of it, but during the day they lay still with flapping sails, often drifting back and losing a good deal of the advantage gained at night.

This happened notably on one occasion when we were in dangerous proximity to the north of New Guinea. Saturday night had brought us to a point some thirty miles off the land, and during the Sunday morning service which was held on deck I could not fail to see that the Captain looked troubled and frequently went over to the side of the ship. When the service was ended I learnt from him the cause: a four-knot current was carrying us toward some sunken reefs, and we were already so near that it seemed improbable that we should get through the afternoon in safety. After dinner the long-boat was put out and all bands endeavoured, without success, to turn the ship’s head from the shore.

After standing together on the deck for some time in silence, the Captain said to me:

“Well, we have done everything that can be done. We can only await the result.’

A thought occurred to me, and I replied: ‘No, there is one thing we have not done yet.’ ‘What is that?’ he queried.

‘Four of us on board are Christians. Let us each retire to his own cabin, and in agreed prayer ask the Lord:to give us immediately a breeze. He can as easily send it now as at sunset.’

The Captain complied with this proposal. I went and spoke to the other two men, and after prayer with the carpenter we 94. BIOGRAPHY OF JAMES HUDSON TAYLOR

all four retired to wait upon God. I had a good but very brief season in prayer, arid then felt so satisfied that our request was granted that I could not continue asking, and very soon went up again on deck. The first officer, a godless man, was in charge. I went over and asked him to let down the clews or corners of the mainsail, which had been drawn up in order to lessen the useless flapping of the sail against the rigging.

“What would be the good of that?’ he answered roughly. I told him we had been asking a wind from God; that it was coming immediately; and we were so near the reef by this time that there was not a minute to lose.

With an oath and a look of contempt, he said he would rather see a wind than hear of it. But while he was speaking I watched his eye, following it up to the royal, and there sure enough the corner of the topmost sail was beginning to tremble in the breeze.

‘Don’t you see the wind is coming? Look at the royal!’ I exclaimed.

“No, it is only a cat’s paw,’ he rejoined (a mere puff of wind). ‘Cat’s paw or not,’ I cried, ‘pray let down the mainsail and give us the benefit.’

This he was not slow to do. In another minute the heavy tread of the-men on deck brought up the Captain from his cabin to see what was the matter. The breeze had indeed come! In a few minutes we were ploughing our way at six or seven knots through the water, and though the wind was sometimes unsteady we did not altogether lose it until after passing the Pelew Islands.

Thus God encouraged me ere landing on China’s shores to bring every variety of need to Him in prayer, and to expect that He would honour the name of the Lord Jesus and give the help each emergency required.

It was on a foggy Sunday at the end of February that the last stage of the long journey was reached, and the yellow, turbid water surging around the Dumfries told that they were already in the estuary of a great river. Muffled in his heaviest wraps Hudson Taylor paced the deck, doing his best to keep warm and be patient. It was a strange Sunday, this last at sea. For days he had been packed and ready to leave the ship, and hindered by storm and cold from other occupations had given the more time to thought and prayer.

‘What peculiar feelings,’ he wrote, ‘arise at the prospect of soon landing in an unknown country, in the midst of strangers—,a country now to be my home and sphere of labour, “Lo, I am with you alway.” “I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.” Sweet promises! I have nothing to fear, with Jesus on my side.

‘Great changes probably have taken place since last we heard from China. And what news shall I receive from England? Where shall I go, and how shall I live at first? These and a thousand other questions engage the mind. But the most important question of all is, “Am I now living as near to God as possible?”

As afternoon wore on, what were those boats in the distance—looming towards them through the mist? One beat its way up before long, eagerly watched from the Dumfries. Yes, there was no mistaking that picturesque sail and curiously painted hull, nor the faces of the men as they came into sight. There they were, twelve or fourteen of them, blue-garbed, dark-eyed, vociferating in an unknown tongue—the first Chinese Hudson Taylor had ever seen. And how his heart went out to them! Behind the strange exterior he saw the treasure he had come so far to seek—the souls for which Christ died.

‘I did long,’ ie wisi, ‘to be able to tell them the Glad Tidings.”

A little later the English pilot came on board and received a hearty welcome. There was no hope of reaching Woosung that day, still less Shanghai, fifteen miles farther up the tidal river; but there was much he could tell them, while waiting for the fog to clear, of the long winter’s doings since they had left England.

From him they learned, for example, of the troubles between Russia and Turkey that within a few weeks were to lead to the Crimean War. The allied fleets of England and France had already reached the scene of conflict and nothing, it was feared, could avert the serious issue. But startling though it was to hear of war-clouds hanging over Europe, it was scarcely as great a shock as the news from China itself, and especially from the port at which they were about to land. Not only was the Taiping Rebellion still devastating province after province in its progress towards Peking; Shanghai itself, both the native city and the foreign Settlement, was plunged in all the horrors of war. A local band of rebels known as the ‘Red Turbans’ had obtained possession of the city, around which was now encamped an Imperial army of forty to fifty thousand men, the latter proving a more serious menace to the European community than even the rebels themselves.

For the rest, bad as their passage had been they had arrived ahead of vessels that set out before them, but just too late for the February mail. They must be prepared, moreover, to find everything at famine prices, for the dollar had risen from four shillings, its ordinary value, to six or seven, and would soon be higher: a discouraging outlook for one with a small income in English money!

All this and more the pilot told them, and they had time to think over his communications. Monday was still so foggy that they could not proceed, and though they weighed anchor on Tuesday morning it was only to beat up against the wind a few miles nearer to Woosung. But that night the fog lifted, and the young missionary pacing the deck caught sight of a low-lying shore, running far to north and south, that was no island. How it arrested him!

is prayers were answered; the dream of years come true. He was looking on China at last, under the evening sky.

Not until 5 p.m. next day however (Wednesday, March Ist) was he able to land in Shanghai; and then it was quite alone, the Dumfries being still detained by adverse winds.

‘My feelings on stepping ashore,’ he wrote, ‘I cannot attempt to describe. My heart felt as though it had not room and must burst its bonds, while tears of gratitude and thankfulness fell from my eyes.’

Then a deep sense of the loneliness of his position began to come over him; not a friend or acquaintance anywhere; no single hand held out to welcome him, or anyone who even knew his name.

Mingled with thankfulness for deliverance from many dangers and joy at finding myself at !ast on Chinese soil came a vivid realisation of the great distance between me and those I loved, and that I was a stranger in a strange land.

I had three letters of introduction, however, and counted on advice and help from one especially, to whom I had been commended by mutual friends, whom I knew well and highly valued. Of course I enquired for him at once, only to learn that he had been buried:a month or two previously, having died of fever while we were at sea.

Saddened by these tidings I asked the whereabouts of a missionary to whom another of my introductions was addressed, but only to meet with further disappointment. He had recently left for America. The third letter remained; but it had been given me by a comparative stranger, and I expected less from it than from the others. It proved, however, to be God’s channel of help.

This letter then in hand, he left the British Consulate near the river to find the compound of the London Missionary Society at some distance across the Settlement. On every side strange sights, sounds and smells now greeted him, especially when the large houses of the wealthy gave place to smaller shops and squalid buildings. Here nothing but Chinese was to be heard, and few if any but Chinese were to be seen. The streets grew narrower and more crowded, and overhanging balconies above rows of swinging signboards almost hid the sky. How he found his way for a mile or more does not appear; but at length a mission chapel came in sight, and with an upward look for guidance Hudson Taylor turned in at the ever open gateway of Ma-ka-k’tien.®

Several buildings stood before him, including a hospital and dwelling-houses, at the first of which he enquired for Dr. Medhurst to whom his letter was addressed. Sensitive and reserved by nature, it was no small ordeal to Hudson Taylor to have to introduce himself to so important a person, the pioneer as well as founder (with Dr. Lockhart) of Protestant missionary effort in this part of China, and it was almost with relief he heard that Dr. Medhurst was no longer living on the compound. He too, it seemed, had gone away.

More than this Hudson Taylor was unable to make out, as the Chinese servants could not speak English, nor could he understand a word of their dialect. It was a perplexing situation until a European came in sight. His name was Edkins and he was one of the junior missionaries, he explained, as he welcomed the new arrival. Dr. and Mrs. Medhurst had moved to the British Consulate, he said, but Dr. Lockhart remained; and he went to find him.

It was quite an event in those days for an Englishman and especially a missionary to appear in Shanghai unannounced. Most people came by the regular mailsteamers once a month, whose arrival caused general excitement. None was expected then, and even the Dumfries was not yet in port; so that when another of the L.M.S. people came in, during the absence of Edkins, Hudson Taylor had to explain all over again who and what he was. But Alexander Wylie soon set him at ease, and entertained him until Edkins returned with Dr. Lockhart.

It did not take long for these new friends to understand the situation, and then there was nothing for it but to receive the young missionary into one of their own houses. They could not leave him without a home, and the Settlement was so crowded that lodgings were not to be had at any price. Dr. Lockhart was living alone, his wife having been obliged to return to England, and with genuine kindness he welcomed Hudson Taylor as his guest, permitting him to pay a moderate sum to cover board’expenses.

This arrangement made, Edkins took him to see Mr. and Mrs. Muirhead, who completed the L.M.S. staff in Shanghai, and introduced him also to Mr. and Mrs. Burdon, of the Church Missionary Society, who had rented an unoccupied house on the same compound. The Burdons invited him to dinner that evening. They were young and newly married, having been only a year or two in China, and from the first were drawn to Hudson Taylor in a sympathy he warmly reciprocated.

‘The fireside looked so homelike, their company was so pleasant and all the news they had to tell,’ he wrote, ‘so full of interest that it was most refreshing.’

Here then was an answer to many prayers, the solution of many ponderings.’ For the moment he was provided for in favourable circumstances, and though he could not trespass upon the doctor’s hospitality for long, it would afford him at any rate a little while in which to look about. and make permanent arrangements. Thankfully he lay down to sleep for the first time in China.

He awoke next morning to the song of birds, a welcome change from the lapping of water on the side of the Dumfries, and looked with enjoyment at the budding plants out in the garden. It was good to sniff the perfumed air after so long at sea.

Breakfast over, he went to the Consulate, and though disappointed to find only one letter (on which he had to pay no less than two shillings postage), it was a letter from home, containing enclosures from both mother and sisters.

‘Never did I pay two shillings more willingly in my life,’ he assured them, ‘than for that letter.’

Soon the Dumfries was reported, and with a Chinese helper he managed to get his things brought up to Dr. Lockhart’s. It was a peculiar sensation to be marching at the head of a procession of coolies through the crowded streets, all his belongings swinging from bamboo poles across their shoulders, while at every step they, sang or shouted ‘Ou-ah Ou-ay’ in varying tones. They were not really in pain or distress, he realised, although it sounded like it; and by the time some of the copper cash he had received in exchange for a Mexican dollar had been distributed amongst them, he had had his first lesson in business dealings in the Orient.

Then came the daily service in the hospital, conducted on this occasion by Dr. Medhurst, and Hudson Taylor listened for the first time to Gospel preaching in the tongue with which he was to become so familiar. In conversation afterwards, Dr. Medhurst advised him to commence his studies with the Mandarin dialect, the most widely spoken in China, and undertook to procure a teacher. Evening brought the weekly prayer meeting, when Hudson Taylor was introduced to others of the missionary community, thus ending with united waiting upon God his first whole day in China.

Before the week closed he began to see another side of Shanghai life, however. The journal tells of guns firing all night, and the city wall not half a mile away covered with sentry lights; of sharp fighting seen from his windows, in which men were killed and wounded under his very eyes; of a patient search for rooms in the Chinese part of the Settlement, only emphasising the fact that there were none to be had; of his first contact with heathenism; and of scenes of suffering in the native city which made an indelible impression of horror upon his mind.

Of some of these experiences he wrote to his sister ten days after his arrival:

On Saturday (March 4th) I took a walk through the Market, and such a muddy, dirty place as Shanghai I never did see! The ground is all mud; dry in dry weather, but one hour’s rain makes it like walking through a clay-field. It scarcely is walking, but wading! I found that there was no probability of getting a house or even apartments, and felt cast down in spirit.

The following day, Sunday, I attended two services at the L.M.S., and in the afternoon went into the city with Mr. Wylie. You have never seen a city in a state of siege, or been at the seat of war. God grant you never may! We walked some distance round the wall, and sad it was to see the wreck of rows upon rows of houses near the city. Burnt down, blown down, battered to pieces—in all stages of ruin they were! And the misery of those who once inhabited them, driven from house, home and everything, is terrible to think of.

At length we came upon a ladder let down from the wall, by which provisions were being conveyed into the city. We entered also. The soldiers on guard offered no opposition, and for a long time we wandered through the city, Mr. Wylie talking with people here and there, and giving them tracts. We went into some of the temples and the priests also received tracts from us. Everywhere we seemed welcome.

As we passed the West Gate, we saw hundreds of the Rebel soldiery assembled there, and we met many more going in that direction. They were about to make a sally upon the Imperialists, who would not be expecting it from that quarter.

We then proceeded to the L.M.S. chapel, and found it crammed with people. Dr. Medhurst was preaching, after which six bags of rice were distributed among the poor creatures, many of whom must perish but for this assistance, rendered daily, as they can do nothing now to earn a living. Windows smashed in the chapel, and lamps broken by passing bullets tell of the deadly work that is going on. /

By the time we came to the North Gate they were fighting fiercely outside the city. One man was brought in dead, another shot through the chest, and a third whose arm I examined seemed in dreadful agony. A ball had gone clean through the arm, breaking the bone in passing.

A little farther on we met some men bringing in a small cannon they had captured, and following them were others dragging along by their tails (queues)* five wretched prisoners. The poor fellows cried piteously to us to save them, as they were hurried by, but alas, we could do nothing. They would probably be at once decapitated. It makes one’s blood run cold to think of such a thing.

All this Hudson Taylor doubtless felt the more in that it was so unexpected. Trial and hardship he had looked for, of the kind usually associated with a missionary’s lot, but everything was turning out differently from his anticipations. External hardships there were none, save the cold from which he suffered greatly; but distress of mind and heart seemed daily to increase. He could hardly look out of his window, much less take exercise in any direction, without witnessing misery such as he had never dreamed of before. The tortures inflicted by the soldiery of both armies upon unhappy prisoners from whom they hoped to extort money, and the ravages perpetrated as they pillaged the country for supplies, harrowed him unspeakably. Meanwhile his eagerness ‘to get a hold on the language made him devote every moment to study, even to the neglect of prayer and daily feeding upon the Scriptures. This reacted on his own spiritual life. The channels of outflow to others were sealed, and it was a little while before he realised that they must be kept all the more clear and open towards God. The great enemy took advantage of all this, as may be seen from early letters.

To Mr. Pearse he wrote:

I felt very much disappointed on finding no letter from you, but I hope to receive one by the next mail. Shanghai is in a very unsettled state, the Rebels and Imperialists fighting continually. This morning a cannon fired near us awoke me before daybreak, shaking the house and making the windows rattle violently.

There is not a house to be obtained here, or even part of one; those not occupied by Europeans are filled with Chinese merchants who have left the city. The pilot told me they will give for only three rooms as much as thirty dollars a month, and in some instances more. The missionaries who were living in the city have had to leave, and are residing with others here in the Settlement at present; so that had it not been for the kindness of Dr. Lockhart I should have been quite nonplussed. As it is I scarcely know what to do. How long the present state of things may last it isampossible to say. If I am to stay here, Dr. Lockhart says that the only plan will be to buy land and build a house. The land would probably cost from 100 to 150 dollars, and the house three or four hundred more. If peace was restored, Dr. Lockhart thinks I could rent a house in the city at from two to three hundred dollars per annum. So that in any case the expense of living here must be great. I do not know whether it would be less at Hong Kong or any other port?

Please excuse this hasty, disconnected letter with all its faults. It is so cold just now that I can scarcely feel pen or paper. Everything is very dear, and fuel costs at times an almost fabulous price. Coal is now at thirty dollars (nearly £10) a ton. Once more I must beg you to excuse this letter, and please reply with all possible expedition that I may know what to do.

May the Lord bless and prosper you. Continue to pray much for me, and may we all; sure of Jesus’ love when everything else fails, seek to be more like Him. Soon we shall meet where sorrow and trial shall be no more. Till then may we be willing to bear the cross, and not only to do but to suffer His will.

‘The cold was so great and other things so trying,’ he continued to his parents a week later, ‘that I scarcely knew what I was doing or saying at first. What it means to be so far from home, at the seat of war, and not able to understand or be understood by the people was fully realised. Their utter wretchedness and misery, and my inability to help them or even point them to Jesus, powerfully affected me.’

In another letter he wrote,

I would give anything for a friend with whom to consult freely. My position is so perplexing that if I had not definite promises of Divine guidance to count upon, I do not know what I should do. There is, I fear, no probability of my being able to keep within my salary under present circumstances. If J had quarters of my own I could live on rice (not bread, that would be too expensive) and drink tea without milk or sugar, which is cheap enough here. But that I cannot do now. Things are increasing in expense all the while and dollars are getting dearer. They were at 6s. 1d. when last I heard, and if we are involved in further hostilities may rise to double that price—and yet have no more purchasing value. Well, He will provide.

It may seem exaggerated, at first sight, to dwell much upon the trials of Hudson Taylor’s position. True, he was at the seat of war, but as far as circumstances permitted he was living in safety and even comfort. He was so well off, apparently, that one wonders at the undertone of suffering in his letters, until a little consideration reveals another side of his experiences. The welcome assistance received from Dr. Medhurst‘and other L.M.S. missionaries yet gave rise to an embarrassing situation. If he had belonged to their Society and had been preparing to work with and for them, nothing could have been better. But as it was, he felt almost like an unfledged cuckoo—an intruder in another bird’s nest. That his companionship at every meal in solitary téte-d-téte was somewhat wearisome to his generous host, he could not but feel. He received nothing but kindness from Dr. Lockhart and his associates, but he was not as they were, highly educated and connected with a great denomination and important work. The preparation providentially ordered for him had been along different lines, and his religious views made him singular, while his position as a missionary was isolated and open to criticism.

He had been sent out, hurried out almost, by his Society, before his medical course was finished, in the hope of reaching the Rebels at Nanking. Misled by optimistic reports about the Taiping Movement, the Secretaries of the C.E.S. had taken a position that to practical men on the field seemed wholly absurd. It was not long before Hudson Taylor discovered that the Chinese Evangelisation Society, with its aims and methods, was the butt of no little ridicule in Shanghai. It was humiliating as The Gleaner came out month by month to hear it pulled to pieces in this spirit, although he could not but acknowledge that many of the strictures were deserved.

He realised the weakness of the C.E.S., or was coming to, no less clearly than others did; but he knew and respected many members of the Committee, and to some (including the Secretaries) he was attached with grateful love. This put matters in a very different light. Fellowship with them in spiritual things, at Tottenham and elsewhere, could never be forgotten, and even when feeling their mistakes most keenly he longed for their atmosphere of prayer, their love of the Word of God and earnest zeal for souls.

The influence of the world was tremendously strong in Shanghai, even in missionary circles. It was the heyday of the Settlement, as regards financial and commercial opportunities. Many a fortune was to be made in Shanghai in those days, and lavish expenditure on luxury, with its attendant evils, was to be found on every hand.

Such a state of things was not without its effect on the missionary community. The great expense of living necessitated increased salaries; and it was unavoidable that there should be a good deal of intercourse with government officials, to whom the missionaries were useful as interpreters, and with officers from the gunboats stationed at Shanghai for the protection of the Settlement. A general spirit of sociability fell far short of Hudson Taylor’s ideal _ of missionary life.

He himself, on the other hand, certainly did not fit in with the current conception of what a missionary should be. That he was good and earnest could easily be seen; but he was connected with no particular denomination, nor was he sent out by any special Church. He expected to do medical work, but he was not a doctor. He was accustomed, evidently, to preaching and pastoral care of others, and yet was not ordained. And strangest perhaps of all, though he belonged to a Society that seemed well supplied with funds, his salary was insufficient and his appearance shabby compared with those by whom he was surrounded.

That Hudson Taylor felt all this, and felt it increasingly as time went on, is not to be wondered at. He had come out with such different expectations! His one longing was to go inland and live among the people. He wanted to keep down expenses and continue the simple, self-denying life he had lived at home. To learn the language that he might win souls was his one ambition. He cared nothing at all about worldly estimates and social pleasures, though he did long for fellowship in the things of God. With a salary of £80 a year, he found himself unable to manage upon twice that sum. So he was really poor and in serious difficulty before long; and there was no-one to impress the fact upon the Committee at home or make them understand the situation.

Then, too, he was unavoidably lonely. The missionaries with whom he lived were all a good deal older than himself, with the exception of the Burdons who were fully occupied with their work. He could not trespass on their kindness too frequently, and having no colleague of his own found it impossible to speak of many matters connected with the Society and future developments that were on his heart. Soon he learned to mention such affairs as little as possible.

Much as he felt his position, however, it was well for the young missionary that he could not hive off just then or attempt to live on rice and tea minus milk or sugar. He would have done it had he been his own master. He would have done anything along lines of self-sacrifice to make the money given for missionary purposes go as far as possible. But it would have been a dangerous experiment during the hot season in an unaccustomed climate. And more than this—were there not higher purposes in view in the providential limitations imposed upon him at this time? He longed to be free and independent, and the Lord saw fit to keep him in the very opposite position, letting him learn from experience what it is to be poor and weak and indebted to others even for the necessities of life. For His own, His well-beloved Son, there was no better way; and there are lessons still that can be learned only in this school.

But for such circumstances early in his missionary career, Hudson Taylor would never have been able to feel for others as it was necessary he should. By nature he was resourceful and independent to a fault, desiring freedom to follow the guidance of the Lord as it came to him personally, untrammelled by obligations even to the Society with which he was connected. And now at the very opening of his new life in China, he found himself cast upon the generosity of strangers.

As spring advanced, his journal gave evidence of more depression of spirits than could be attributed to the climate. His eyes, never strong, became inflamed through the sunshine and excessive dust, and he suffered also a great deal from headache. In spite of this he worked at Chinese on an average five hours’ évery day, besides giving time to necessary correspondence. To Mr. Pearse he wrote as fully as possible, trying to supply information that would interest readers of The Gleaner, as well as detailed statements of the condition of things around him with a view to the future conduct of the work.

From these letters one sees how much he was beginning to feel the monotony of a young missionary’s life, occupied mainly with study. There was little of interest to write about, and it is clear that he was passing through a stage of weariness and disillusionment in which it is so easy to lose spiritual usefulness and power.

Thanks to good judgment and sensible home-training, Hudson Taylor was in less danger than many young missionaries during those months of language study. From early childhood he had been encouraged to take an interest in ‘nature study,’ his butterflies and insects being always housed with consideration though at some cost to his parents in their limited surroundings. This stood him in good stead, for now he not only knew the value of such recreation, but also how to take it up. The journal for April records,

April 25th: Ordered a cabinet for insects, and worked at Chinese and photography.

April 28th: Very warm again. Worked at Chinese five hours. Had a bad headache all day. Caught a few insects as a commencement of my collection.

April 29th: At Chinese six hours. After dinner took a walk in search of nocturnal insects. Had some difficulty in getting into the Settlement again, the gates being closed.

‘Today,’ he wrote to his mother in May, ‘1 caught sight of a large black butterfly with swallow-tail wings, the largest living butterfly I have ever seen. At first I thought it must be a small bird, although it seemed to fly so strangely. But when it settled on a tree and I saw the splendid creature, it nearly took my breath away, it was so fine!

‘I intend also to collect botanical specimens. There are some trees here that have a strange look to our eyes, being covered with blossoms before a single leaf appears. Among the wild plants I see many old friends—the violet, forget-me-not, buttercup, clover, chickweed, dandelion, hemlock, and several common herbs. There are also wild flowers that are new to me and very pretty.’

In addition to working hard at Chinese this summer he was diligently keeping up other studies, medicine and chemistry especially, that he might not lose the benefit of his hospital course. The classics he gave as much time to as possible, and he seems always to have had some useful book on hand dealing with history, biography, or natural science. The following is a typical entry in a journal-letter to his sister:

Before breakfast read Medicine, then Chinese nearly seven hours. After dinner, Greek and Latin exercises, each an hour. After poring over these things till one can scarcely see, it is a comfort to have a fine, clear, large-type Bible, such as Aunt Hardey gave me. It is quite a luxury. Well, all these studies are necessary. Some of them, the classical languages of Europe, ought to have been mastered long ago; so it is now or never with me. But the sweetest duties of the day are those that lead to Jesus—prayer, reading and meditation upon His precious Word.

All through this trying season Hudson Taylor kept up his studies, never falling below his average’‘of five hours at Chinese every day. Once or twice he went into the country with his friend Burdon, and felt well rewarded by the welcome met with from the village people, who were only too glad to see them out again.

‘I think I may say I have one friend now,’ he added, telling of a happy evening with the, Burdons after one such excursion. ‘But I do not want to go over there too often, as I am only one of his circle and he has a wife for company. I feel the want of a companion very much. The day is spent with my teacher, but my evenings generally alone in writing or study.’

Much time was given during his first year in China to correspondence, and he looked eagerly for letters from home. When none arrived the disappointment was intense.

“When last mail came in,’ he wrote to his mother in the middle of June, ‘after walking a mile and a half to the Consulate on a broiling hot day and waiting nearly two hours, which lost me my “tiffin” or midday meal, I had the pleasure of bringing up letters and papers for everyone at the Mission except myself. When I found there really was nothing for me, I felt quite sick and faint and could scarcely manage to walk home, for it was reported that we should have no other mail for six or eight weeks.’

Another trial of those summer months, and one he felt still more keenly, was his financial position, overlooked apparently by the Society. The first quarter since his arrival in China was now at an end, and his balance in hand was so small that it would be necessary to draw again very soon, and he had already spent more than 130 dollars. At that rate his salary would be exhausted before half the year was over, and what would the Committee say and think?

With anxious care he explained to Mr. Pearse every item in these accounts, the first he ever sent home from China, revealing touching details as to needs he had not supplied because of his desire to save expense as far as possible.

‘I feel quite oppressed when I think of what a cost I am to the Society,’ he wrote, ‘and yet how little good I am able to accomplish.’

And just then, to add to his perplexity, news reached him in a roundabout way that seemed a climax to his troubles.

The Society was sending another missionary to Shanghai, and not a bachelor like himself, but a married man with a family. Dr. Parker, a Scot who had applied to the C.E.S. before Hudson Taylor left England, was already on his way to join him and might be expected in a few months. Glad as the young missionary would have been of such tidings in other circumstances, what arrangements could he make for a married couple with three children, when he himself was dependent on the generosity of others? He hardly dared mention it to those with whom he was living, and yet the news would soon be the talk of the Settlement whether he kept silence or not.

Anxiously he awaited letters from the Committee explaining the situation. Surely they would send him notice, in view of all he had written, of such an addition to their staff, and instruct him fully how to act. But mail after mail came in with no reference to Dr. Parker’s coming. Repeated requests for directions as to’how to arrange for himself had as yet received no answer, and before summer was over Hudson Taylor saw that he must act on his own initiative.

Meanwhile comments and questions were not wanting that made the position more trying. ‘Is it true that a medical man is about to join you, with a wife and family? When did you hear it? Why did you not tell us? Have you bought land? Why do you not begin to build? And so forth! To all of which no satisfactory replies were forthcoming.

The more he thought over the situation, the more he felt that there was nothing for it but to seek a native house in the Chinese part of the Settlement, in which to receive the travellers who were drawing nearer every day. So in spite of overpowering heat and his lack of a sedan-chair, he set about the weary search once more. It was four or five months now since he had hunted for quarters on his first arrival without finding even a room available, and if anything the conditions seemed worse than before. Hudson Taylor would have been almost in despair, had he not been learning precious lessons of his own helplessness—and of Almighty strength.

“As you know,’ he wrote in July, ‘I have been much tried since coming here, “pressed beyond measure” almost at times. But the goodness of God is never-failing; and the last few days I have enjoyed such a sweet sense of His love, and such a personal application of some of the promises as though they were written or spoken directly to me, that the oil of joy has indeed been given me for mourning. I feel sure that dear friends in England have been specially remembering me in prayer, and I am truly grateful.’