Hidden Years (1858-1865)

It was over the chapel in Bridge Street, across the river from the Settlement, in the little rooms that were to form the cradle of the China Inland Mission, that the young missionaries began settled work. Downstairs everything remained as before, but a few rooms were fashioned above with inexpensive partitions. Missionary life was now no longer a one-sided bachelor affair for Hudson Taylor but rounded out and complete in all its relations. He began to feel in touch with the people in a new way and the days were very full. Preaching, teaching, prescribing and dispensing medicines, as well as entertaining visitors by the hour, Taylor had to manage single-handed, in addition to business affairs, correspondence, and evangelistic excursions with Jones.

It would have been possible, of course, to employ a heathen teacher in the school to which Maria gave six or seven hours daily; and they might also have taken on some of the enquirers with a view to training them for positions of usefulness. But either of these courses would have been a hindrance, they considered, rather than a help. To pay young converts, however sincere, for making known the Gospel must inevitably weaken their influence if not their Christian character. In their spiritual infancy they should be left to grow naturally in the circumstances in which God had placed them, strengthened by the very trials with which they found themselves surrounded.

Meanwhile, special faith and devotion were needed to enable the missionaries to do so much themselves, and in their insufficiency God worked. He brought them in contact with hearts ready to receive the Gospel, and gave them as their children in the faith men and women who became soul-winners.

One of the first of these after their marriage was the basket-maker, Fang Neng-kuei. Introduced at Bridge Street by his friend Nyi, there was a something about the Christians that greatly attracted him. Long had he been seeking peace of heart, but neither in the ceremonies of Buddhism nor the philosophy of Confucius had he found any help. He had even attended for a time the services of the Roman Catholics, but not until he joined the little circle at Bridge Street did he begin to understand the rest of faith. Then nothing would satisfy him but to be there every night as soon as his work permitted, following eagerly all that was said and done.

It was about this time that Hudson Taylor, finding his audiences diminishing, bethought him of a plan to arouse fresh interest. He had at hand a set of coloured pictures illustrating the Gospel stories, and put up a notice to the effect, that these would be on view at the evening services, when they would also be fully explained. The result was all he had hoped, and with’a crowded room before him and eager faces peering in from the street, the young missionary preached one night on the Prodigal Son with more than ordinary freedom. The thought of God as such a Father was strangely new to most of his hearers, and when at the close Taylor invited any who wished to hear more to stay behind for conversation, almost the whole audience remained. Among the most interested were Neng-kuei and two friends whom he had brought to the meeting. Others drifted out by degrees, but these three stayed on, and seemed much in earnest when they said they wished to become followers of Jesus.

Hudson Taylor had recently started a night school in which enquirers might learn to read the New Testament by means of Roman letters. This exactly suited Neng-kuei and his friends, and for some time they were regular in their attendance. Then it began to be rumoured abroad that the basket-makers were becoming Christians, and they had a good deal of persecution to put up with. This of course tested the reality of their faith, and to the sorrow of the missionaries first one and then another ceased to come. Would Neng-kuei too drift away? But in his case the work proved deep and real. Persecution only brought him out more boldly as a ‘good soldier of Jesus Christ,’ and ridicule taught him to defend his new-found faith in such a way that he became a most effective preacher of the Gospel.

Neng-kuei’s earnestness in making known the truth as it is in Jesus was due to something deeper than external opposition. He was a man called of God to a special service, and placed by Divine providence in a special school. In spite of more than one fall, like Peter, whom he closely resembled in character, Neng-kuei was to be widely used in winning souls to Christ. Wherever he went in later years, he was enabled to raise up little churches that continued to thrive and grow under the care of others.

Neng-kuei was not one who could long minister to them himself; but he realised this, and was always ready to pass on to new fields when his special work was done. And the zeal and devotion that characterised him must be attributed, under God, to the influences by which his Christian life was formed and nurtured.

Few though they were in number, Hudson Taylor gave himself to the young converts at this time, as if the evangelisation of China depended upon their future efforts. In addition to all his other work he devoted several hours daily to their instruction.

Sunday with its special meetings in the Jones’s home, morning, afternoon and evening, was made the very most of for the inner circle. It cost the Christians a great deal to leave their regular employments, sacrificing the practical possibilities of one day in seven. It was perhaps the hardest thing their Christian faith required of them. Neng-kuei, for example, found that it cost him a full third of his weekly wages to attend the meetings on Sunday. He was a skilled workman, and his master was quite willing that he should get through all there was to be done in six days, provided he went without pay on the seventh. If it gave him satisfaction to waste four days in every month he was at liberty to do so, only he must of course provide his food on those occasions and draw wages only for the time in which work was done. It was a clever arrangement _as far as the master was concerned, but one that told heavily on the poor basket-maker. Twopence a day and his food had been little enough before, but now out of only twelve pence a week (instead of’ fourteen) he had to spend two or three on provisions for Sunday, which meant a total lessening of his hard-earned income by a third. Nevertheless he was quite willing for this, if only he could have the Lord’s Day for worship.

He proved to be one whom the Lord could use. Indeed, of the little group of converts who gathered about the Taylors this winter no less than six were to come to their help in later years as fellow-workers in the China Inland Mission. But it was reserved for Neng-kuei to win a soul destined to become especially useful in winning others. A man named Wang was living in Ningpo at the time, who was to be numbered among the Bridge Street Christians, and to exceed them all in the fruitfulness of his labours. But as yet he knew nothing of the Master he was to love and serve.

A busy workman, employed from morning till night in painting and decorating houses, how was he to come under the influence of the Gospel? He had no time to listen to preaching, though he seems to have been religiously inclined, and was no frequenter of tea-shops, his own home being at hand with the attractions of wife and infant child. So the Lord, who had chosen him for His service, sent across his pathway one whom He could trust to be faithful in little things, and who ‘in season and out of season’ would deliver His message.

It was a beautiful house young Wang was in that day, decorating one of the guest-halls. Presently a stir began—servants came hurrying from the inner apartments, a man with a load of baskets, was ushered in, and several ladies, richly dressed, came out to give their orders. Of all this the painter on his scaffolding took little notice, but when the ladies began to speak in tones of some annoyance he pricked up his ears to listen.

“What! Not make baskets for holding incense? Refuse an order for anything to be used in the service of the gods?’

‘Do not be angry, ladies,’ replied the simple basketmaker. ‘I am sorry not to comply with your wishes, but I cannot make or sell anything for the worship of idols.’

‘And pray, why not?’ was the astonished question. ‘I am a believer in the Lord Jesus,’ Neng-kuei answered respectfully; ‘a worshipper of the true and living God.’ And he went on to put before these ladies, who might never hear again, the way of pardon and peace through a dying, risen Saviour.

“What was that you were saying?’

The ladies had grown tired of listening, and had tottered away on their tiny feet, but Neng-kuei’s attention was arrested, as he was about to leave, by a man in working clothes, who went on earnestly:

“You did not see me. I am painting up there,’ indicating his ladder. ‘What was it you were saying? I heard, but tell me again.’

That conversation we are left to imagine. We only know that Wang Lae-djiin took the first step that day in a lifetime of devoted service to the Master.

Over in the home of the Taylors, in a darkened room, the husband knelt by the bedside of his dying wife. It was February 9th and only a few weeks had elapsed since the New Year dawned upon their perfect happiness, and now—was she to be taken from him, and his life shadowed with irreparable loss? Internal inflammation, the result apparently of chill, had brought her so low that life seemed ebbing fast away, and evéry remedy thé physicians could suggest had proved unavailing.

Elsewhere in the city the united prayer meeting was going on, and the knowledge that others were praying with him upheld the lonely watcher as nothing else could have done. Noting with anguish the hollow temples, sunken eyes and pinched features, all indicating the near approach of death, Taylor was indeed ‘shipwrecked upon God.’ Faith was the only spar he had to cling to; faith in the Will that even then was perfect wisdom, perfect love.

Kneeling there in the silence—how was it that new hope began to possess his heart? A remedy! They had not tried it. He must consult Dr. Parker as quickly as possible. But would she, could she hold out until he came back again?

It was nearly two miles to Dr. Parker’s, and every moment appeared long. On my way thither, while wrestling mightily with God in prayer, the precious words were brought with power to my soul, ‘Call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me.’ I was enabled at once to plead them in faith, and the result was deep, deep unspeakable peace and joy.

All consciousness of distance was gone. Dr. Parker approved the use of the means suggested; but upon arriving at home I saw at a glance that the desired change had taken place in the absence of this or any other remedy. The drawn aspect of the countenance had given place to the calmness of tranquil slumber, and not one unfavourable symptom remained to retard recovery.

The Great Physician had been there. His Presence had rebuked the approach of death. His touch had once again brought healing.

This experience of what the Lord could and would do for His people in answer to believing prayer was one of the most wonderful Taylor ever had, and strengthened him for many an emergency, including those of the summer near at hand. Never could he forget those days and hours in which it seemed as though the Lord were saying: ‘Son of man, behold, I take away from thee the desire of thine eyes with a stroke.’ When, therefore, on July 31st a little daughter was born to them, they could find for her no more appropriate name than Grace.

Spared thus the loss of his own loved one, Hudson Taylor felt the more deeply for Dr. Parker when the angel of death visited his home. With scarcely any warning, on August 26th, Mrs. Parker was stricken with dangerous illness, and passed away at midnight leaving four little ones motherless. The young missionaries at Bridge Street did what they could to come to the help of their friend, and others were ready with practical sympathy, but the shock proved too much for the bereaved husband. One of the children was seriously ill, and amid the difficulties of his changed position the doctor began to realise how much his own health was impaired by five years spent in China. He had neither heart nor strength for added burdens and decided before long to take his family home to the care of relatives in Scotland.

But what about the medical mission, outcome of so much prayer and labour? The hospital was full of patients, and the dispensary crowded day by day with a constant stream of people, all of whom needed help. No other doctor was free to take his place, and yet to stop the _ work seemed out of the question with the winter coming on. How would it be, in default of better arrangements, to ask his former colleague, Hudson Taylor, to continue the dispensary at any rate? He was quite’ competent for this, and with the hospital closed would not have much financial responsibility.

The suggestion sent the Taylors to their knees in earnest prayer. All they wanted was to know the Lord’s will in the matter, and as they waited upon Him guidance was clearly given, in a direction they little anticipated.

I felt constrained to undertake not only the dispensary but the hospital as well, relying solely on the faithfulness of a prayerhearing God to furnish means for its support.

At times there were no fewer than fifty in-patients, besides a large number who daily attended the dispensary. Thirty beds were ordinarily allotted to free patients and their attendants, and about as many more to opium-smokers who paid for their board while being cured of the habit. As all the wants of the sick in the wards were supplied gratuitously, as well as the medical appliances needed for the out-patient department, the daily expenses were considerable. A number of Chinese attendants also were required, involving their support.

The funds for the maintenance of all this had hitherto been supplied by the proceeds of the doctor’s foreign practice, and with his departure this source of income ceased. But had not God said that whatever we ask in the name of the Lord Jesus shall be done? And are we not told to seek first the kingdom of God—not means to advance it—and that ‘all these things’ shall be added to us? Such promises were surely sufficient.

Had he been depending upon man for help, he would have waited until the need could be made known before assuming such heavy responsibilities. But it had come about so suddenly that no one at any distance was aware of the position or could be more prepared than he himself.

‘Eight days before entering upon the care of the Ningpo hospital,’ wrote Taylor, ‘I had not the remotest idea of ever doing so; still less could friends at home have foreseen the need.’

The Lord had anticipated it, though, and already His provision was on the way.

The first step taken by the young missionary upon assuming independent charge of the hospital was to call together the assistants and explain the real state of affairs. Dr. Parker, as he told them, had left funds in hand for the expenses of the current month, but little more. After this provision was used up they must look to the Lord directly for supplies; and it would not be possible to guarantee stated salaries, because whatever happened he could not go into debt. In these circumstances, any who wished to do so were at liberty to seek other employment, though he would be glad of their continued service if they were prepared to trust the simple promises of God.

This condition of things, as Taylor had expected, led all who were not decided Christians to withdraw and opened the way for other workers. It was a change Dr. Parker had long desired to make, only he had not known how to obtain helpers of a different sort. Taylor, however, did; and with a greatly lightened heart he turned to the little circle that at this critical juncture did not fail him. To the Bridge Street Christians it seemed quite as natural to trust the Lord for temporal as for spiritual blessings. Was He not, as their ‘Teachers’ so often reminded them, a real Father, who never could forget His children’s needs?

To the hospital, therefore, they came; some worked in one way and some in, another; some giving freely what time they could spare, and others giving their whole time without promise of wages, though receiving their support. And all took the hospital and its concerns upon their hearts in prayer.

As for Maria, she was one of the most important elements in his success at this time. Thoroughly competent to undertake the direction of their enlarged establishment, she relieved him of account-keeping, correspondence, and all household cares, managing the servants and to a certain extent the staff, so that his strength was conserved for the medical and spiritual part of the work. She even found time to do a good deal among the women patients, both in the wards and in the dispensary.

‘She was accustomed to take real comfort from a heartfelt belief in the overruling providence of God in small as well as great matters. She was accustomed, too, to seek His counsel in all things, and would not write a note, pay a call, or make a purchase without raising her heart to God.’

No wonder anew atmosphere began to permeate dispensary and wards. Account for it the patients could not—at any rate at first—but they enjoyed none the less the happy, homelike feeling and the zest with which everything was carried on. The days were full of a new interest. For these attendants—Wang the grass-cutter and Wang the painter, Nyi, Neng-kuei and-others seemed to possess the secret of perpetual happiness, and had so much to impart. Not only were they kind and considerate in the work of the wards, but all their spare time was given to telling of One who had transformed life for them, and who they said was ready to receive all who came to Him for rest. Then there were books, pictures and singing. Everything indeed seemed set to song!

There are few secrets in China, and the financial basis upon which the hospital was now run was not one of them. Soon the patients knew all about it, and were watching eagerly for the outcome. This too was something to think and talk about; and as the money left by Dr. Parker was used up and Hudson Taylor’s own supplies ran low, many were the conjectures as to what would happen next. Needless to say, alone and with his little band of helpers Taylor was much in prayer at this time. It was perhaps a more open and, in that sense, crucial test than any that had come to him, and he realised that the faith of not a few was at stake as well as the continuance of the hospital work. But day after day went by without bringing the expected answer.

At length one morning Kuei-hua the cook appeared with serious news for his master. The very last bag of rice had been opened, and was disappearing rapidly.

‘Then,’ replied Hudson Taylor, ‘the Lord’s time for helping us must be close at hand.’

So it proved to be. Before that bag of rice was finished a letter reached the young missionary that was among the most remarkable he ever received.

It was from Mr. Berger and contained a cheque for £50, like others that had come before. Only in this case the letter went on to say that a heavy burden had come upon the writer, the burden of wealth to use for God. Mr. Berger’s father had recently passed away, leaving him a considerable increase of fortune. The son did not wish to enlarge his personal expenditure. He had had enough before, and was now praying to be guided as to the Lord’s purpose in what ‘had taken place. Could his friends in China help him? The remittance enclosed was for immediate needs, and would they write fully, after praying over the matter, if there were ways in which they could profitably use more?

£50! There it lay on the table; and his far-off friend, knowing nothing about that last bag of rice or the many needs of the hospital, actually asked if he might send them more. No wonder Hudson Taylor was overwhelmed with thankfulness and awe. Suppose he had held back from taking charge of the hospital on account of lack of means, or lack of faith rather? Lack of faith—with such promises and such a God.

There was no Salvation Army in those days, but the praise-meeting held in the chapel fairly anticipated it in its songs and shouts of joy, and as the patients in the wards listened, ‘Where is the idol that can do anything like that?’ was the question upon many lips and hearts. ‘Have they ever delivered us in our troubles, or answered prayer after this sort?’

Nothing is more contagious than spiritual joy, when it is the real thing, and of this there was abundance in the Ningpo hospital that winter. Answers to prayer were many. There were critical cases of illness in which life was given back when every hope seemed gone; there were operations successfully performed under unfavourable conditions, and patients restored from long and hopeless suffering: best of all there were dead souls brought to life in Christ Jesus, so that within nine months sixteen patients had been baptised and more than thirty others were enrolled as candidates for admission to one or other of the Ningpo churches.

It all told, however. ‘Nothing without the cross’ is true above all in spiritual things, and for Hudson Taylor the price that had to be paid was that of health. Six years in China had left their mark; and now, he was conscious only of two things—great and growing opportunities on the one hand, and rapidly failing health on the other; so that while longing to multiply himself into 100 missionaries, he was increasingly unequal to the work of one.

It is, deeply interesting to notice, at this juncture, the means the Lord was using to bring about purposes of His own in connection with this little Ningpo Mission of which those most interested in it never dreamed. Poor, uninfluential and without what would ordinarily be regarded as training or talent for leadership, how unlikely that Hudson Taylor should ever become the founder and director of a worldwide organisation embracing missionaries from all evangelical denominations!

Yet a beginning was to be made even now along the lines of that future development. All unconscious of what lay beyond the step to which he felt himself led, but constrained by the need for fellow-workers, Hudson Taylor wrote home early in the New Year:

Do you know any earnest, devoted young men desirous of serving God in China, who not wishing for more than their actual support would be willing to come out and labour here? Oh, for four or five such helpers! They would probably begin to preach in Chinese in six months’ time; and in answer to prayer the necessary means would be found for their support.

Had he gone on living quietly at Bridge Street it might have been long before the young missionary would have been driven to such a step. There he and Jones were able to _ overtake the work, but removed suddenly from that position and entrusted with larger, more fruitful labours, Hudson Taylor was impressed as never before by the need.

So the appeal went home, and often was the matter remembered in prayer in the old home on the Market Place in Barnsley. It was.over a good old-fashioned Yorkshire tea that a Class Leader learned one day that spiritual qualifications were needed rather than high educational attainments. This turned. his thoughts to the young mechanic who was his right-hand helper in open air meetings and wherever a soul was to be won.

‘James,’ he said one day, ‘I have a job for you. Will you undertake it?’

“What is it, sir?’

‘Go to China,’ was the unexpected reply. Then the Class Leader proceeded to tell James Meadows all he knew of the opening, ending up with the words,

‘Will you go?’

‘I will,’ replied Meadows, ‘if God, is calling me. But I must have time to pray over it.’

The purposes of God were ripening slowly but imperceptibly. It was a time of wonderful blessing in the homelands, and the rising tide of revival was sweeping many into the kingdom of God. Prayer and sympathy were steadily on the increase for missionary work.

‘Surely this is a day calling for no ordinary activity,’ wrote Mrs. Berger, and in the envelope was £50. ‘People are beginning to wake up. You doubtless see The Revival and other papers. Stirring meetings have been held all over London and in many parts of England to plead for the mighty working of the Holy Spirit in the Church and in the world.’ While Mr. Pearse, in a letter written about the same time, reported,

“A kind friend has been raised up who sends £100 each to Brother Jones and yourself. You will be glad to hear that the revival has reached London and hundreds are being converted.’

In Ningpo, however, month after month went by without any prospect of helpers being forthcoming, and Hudson Taylor’s strength was failing. A letter written to his parents on March 25th made mention that he had reason to suppose his lungs were affected with tuberculosis trouble. In May he wrote:

What I desire to know is how I may best serve China. If I am too ill to labour here and by returning home might re-establish health, if only for a time, or if I might rouse others to take up the work I can no longer continue, I think I ought to try.

Into the prepared soil at home a little seed was to fall that would take root and grow all the more surely because the time was so opportune. Hudson Taylor’s life, past, present and to come, was needed in the providence of God to foster that little seed. He must be taken home, and that before long. So the trial of failing health continued until it was evident that a voyage to England was the only hope of saving his life.

Closing the hospital with great reluctance the Taylors set out for England towards the end of June. And they did not go alone. The young painter Wang Lae-djiin, who saw that the missionaries were unfit to travel alone, offered to go with them. Immense as was the distance between China and England in those days, Lae-djiin was willing to leave his wife and child in his father’s home and go to the ends of the earth with those to whom he owed so much.

Hudson Taylor’s one consolation in leaving the converts in Ningpo was that he could serve them in England. A hymn-book and other simple works in their local dialect were greatly needed, and above all a more correct translation of the New Testament with marginal references. Immediately on landing from the four months’ voyage, the young missionary threw himself into the task of getting the Bible Society and the Religious Tract Society to undertake these publications. So engrossed was he with meetings, interviews and correspondence that almost three weeks elapsed before he could even visit his parents in Barnsley.

Then came the question as to where to settle. He had decided to complete his medical studies in addition to the Ningpo Testament, and as the doors of his old Alma Mater, the London Hospital, were open to him, it was to a rented house in a side street in Whitechapel that he took his family. Here, among the toilers of London’s East End, he made his home, that no time might be lost in going to and fro to attend lectures, etc. Thus began the discipline that was to lengthen out for four years, until he was ready for the wider vision that was yet to dawn upon him.

Well was it that the young missionaries could not foresee all that lay before them. At twenty-nine and twenty-four, long patience is not easy. They were in correspondence with candidates for the Ningpo Mission, and as health improved their hope brightened that a couple of years might set them free to return to China—medical degrees obtained and Romanized publications in hand.

A glimpse into the daily life of that little home in Beaumont Street, so different from the sordid scenes about it, is afforded by the recollections of James Meadows, the Barnsley candidate who came up during the first year the Taylors were in London.

It was with immense interest that the young north countryman made his way to the address given. He was scarcely surprised to find himself in a poor neighbourhood.

Hudson Taylor, he knew, was studying medicine at the London Hospital, and it was natural he should live near at hand. But the poverty of the little house itself did somewhat take him aback, when he got over the surprise of being welcomed by a Chinese in native gown and queue. The cottage he had left in Barnsley possessed more of comfort, as he soon discovered, than the scantily furnished rooms which contented the missionaries. They and their Chinese helper seemed to have little time for housekeeping, so keen were they on the chief work in hand, the revision of the New Testament. In a study devoid of all but actual necessities, he found Taylor engrossed with Mr. Gough" over a knotty point of translation, and it was some time before they could do more than give him a cordial welcome. So interested was he, however, in all that was going on that he forgot the bareness of the room, the low fire in the grate, though the day was bitterly cold, and the well-worn dress of the man whose spirit seemed in such contrast with his surroundings.

At table it was the same. Lae-djiin was both cook and laundryman, and the table linen no less than the provisions told of the secondary place given to such details. But the conversation made him oblivious of the cooking, and he was surprised to find himself unruffled by things that would have upset his peace of mind at home. The ‘gentle, earnest piety’ of the missionaries deeply impressed him, as did their absorbing devotion to the work they had left, which was never far from their thoughts. The appalling fact of a million precious souls, month by month, perishing in China for lack of the Gospel was real to them, and found some adequate, corresponding reality in their daily life. Poor as they were and it was not long before he discovered that they had no means in hand, or even in prospect, with which to send him to China—he was glad to accept such leadership, and to go out simply as a ‘Scripture-reader’ when before long funds were provided.””

And Hudson Taylor’s care of his one missionary was not unworthy of this confidence. He had known what it was to be alone, in need, and apparently forgotten during his first years in China, and nothing that could be done by correspondence and attention to business details should be omitted to further the efficiency and well-being of his fellow-workers. Careful though he was of every penny, he invested in a good account book and a file for letters, and the clear entries in his own handwriting testify to the faithfulness with which he discharged these responsibilities. Mr. Meadows’s only complaint, indeed, in his early correspondence illustrates the regularity with which he was cared for.:

‘James. Meadows speaks of being well and regularly supplied with money, Taylor wrote to his mother a year after the young couple had gone out. ‘His only dissatisfaction is that his friends, knowing him to be looking to God only, would be anxious, while he is receiving remittances as regularly as though he had a salary. He seems distressed, in fact, at their being so regular and sufficient, as though such a state of things were incompatible with leaning upon God alone. I have explained in my reply that this is not the case, and that as neither he nor J have any promise of another farthing from anyone, we need to look to the Lord constantly to supply us as He sees fit.’

By this time Taylor’s medical studies were completed and his diplomas taken. Of these hidden years of work and waiting, little would have been known in detail but for the preservation of a number of brief journals. Beginning soon after Taylor’s medical degrees were taken, they cover a period of three years. Daily entries in his small clear writing fill the pages, which breathe a spirit words are poor to express.

Scarcely a day is recorded in which he did not have correspondence, visitors, meetings, medical visits to pay to friends or suffering neighbours, attendance at committees, or other public or private engagements in addition to the revision of the Ningpo Testament. That the latter was his chief occupation, and one to which he devoted himself with characteristic thoroughness, is evident from the journals. Every day he noted the number of hours spent in this work alone, and one frequently comes across such entries as the following:

April 26th, Sunday: Morning: heard Rev. T. Kennedy on ‘Do thyself no harm.’ (Appropriate surely!) Afternoon, lay down, having headache and neuralgia. Evening, with Lae-djiin'* on Heb. 11, first part. Mr. Gough promised to begin tomorrow not later than 10.30. May God prosper us in our work this week, and in all other matters be our help and guide.

April 27th: Revision seven hours (evening at Exeter Hall).

Be Oe en nine and a half hours.

eS eleven hours.

7 SOUS 7" five and a half hours (B.MS.

meetings).

May Ist: = eight and a half hours: (visitors till 10 p.m.).

Be nde? thirteen hours.

” 3rd, Sunday, at Bante:

: In the morning heard Mr.

Lewis, from J ohn 3. 33; took the Communion there in the afternoon. Evening, stayed at home and engaged in prayer about our Chinese work.

May 4th: Revision four hours (correspondence and visitors).

pete is ee eleven and a half hours.

” 6th: ze seven hours (important interviews). emery: = nine and a half hours.

EOL: es ten and a half hours.

? = Oth: e thirteen hours.

ete 2 Sunday: Morning, with Lae-djiin on Heb. 11, first part—a happy session. Wrote to James Meadows. Afternoon, prayer with Maria about leaving this house, about Meadows, Truelove, revision, etc. Evening, heard Mr. Kennedy on Matt. 27. 42: ‘He saved others, himself he cannot save.’ Oh, to be more like the meek, forbearing, loving Jesus. Lord, make me more like Thee.

But it was not work only, it was faith and endurance in searching trial that made these years so fruitful in their after-results. The testing permitted was chiefly along two lines, those of the Ningpo Testament and the supply of personal needs. Taylor never at any time received financial help from the funds of the Ningpo Mission. Even in these early days he felt it important to be entirely independent, in this sense, of the work. He had long been looking to the Lord in temporal matters as in spiritual, proving in many wonderful ways the truth of the promise ‘No good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly.’ These years, however, in East London were marked by very special exercise of mind in this connection, and some periods of extremity never afterwards repeated. Such, for example, were the autumn days in 1863, of which we read as follows:

October 5th, Monday: Our money nearly spent. Paid in faith, however, what was owing to tradesmen and servants. Found a very sweet promise for us in our revision work, I Chron. 28. 20. Revision seven hours.

October 9th: Our money all but gone. O Lord, our hope is in Thee! Revision six and a half hours. Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Lord, May Jones and Baby came from Bristol. (So they were responsible for quite a party.)

October 10th: Revision nine and half hours. Went with Mrs. Jones to see Mr. Jonathan Hutchinson, who kindly refused to take any fee. Only 2s. 54d. left, with the greatest management.

I must have all things and abound, While God is God to me.

October 11th, Sunday: Morning, with Lae-djiin. Afternoon, engaged in prayer. Evening, went to hear Mr. Kennedy. We gave 2s today to the collections, in faith and as due to the Lord.

It is not surprising to find, as the week wore on, special evidences of the Lord’s watchful care. He was permitting their faith to be tested for sufficient reasons, but He was not unmindful of them, in the trial. Early in the week Mrs. Jones’s sister came up from the country, bringing ‘a goose, a duck, and a fowl,’ with other good things, for the household; and a day or two later a relative called with more than £30 for their personal use.

Once, and once only, was there a liability that could not be met, for they sedulously obeyed the injunction, ‘Owe no man anything, save to love one another.’ It was the summer of 1864, the close sultry season so trying in East London. Ever since the beginning of August supplies had been running low, and on the 12th a brief entry closed with the words: |

The tax-gatherer called, and I was obliged to defer him. Help us, O Lord, for Thy Name’s sake.

Next day was Saturday, and there was little or nothing in hand. Seven and a half hours were given to revision just as usual, though the children’s nurse had to be told the situation in case she might wish to leave.

Sought to realise that it is in weakness and need the strength of Jesus is perfected is the entry that shows how deeply their hearts were exercised.

That night, though late, a friend who had left the house returned, and putting £7 into Taylor’s hand begged him to accept it. £5 reached him by post on Monday, and £35 during the course of the week. Thus he was confirmed in the confidence that, for them at any rate, to give all their time and strength to the Lord’s work and quietly wait His supplies was the right way..

Meanwhile, what of the bright hopes with which Taylor had entered upon the work entrusted to him by the Bible Society? To obtain a correct version of the New Testament—not in Chinese character but in Roman letters, representing the sounds of the local dialect, and thus comparatively easy both to read and understand—was an object worthy of considerable sacrifice. With the help of Mr. Gough, Wang Lae-djiin and Maria (who was as much at home in the Ningpo dialect as in English), he hoped to accomplish it in reasonable time. Progress was not hindered by lack of diligence, but the task itself proved far more laborious than they had anticipated, extended as it was to include the preparation of marginal references.

Moreover it met with the strongest opposition from

HIDDEN YEARS 257.

some at the Bible House, whose position gave weight to their criticisms. Once and again, it seemed as if it must be abandoned, and this not at the beginning, but after months and years of toil. For two or three months the situation was painful in the extreme.

‘Humanly speaking there is little hope of the continued aid of either the C.M.S. or the Bible Society,’ Taylor wrote to his mother on October 7th. ‘For this I care but little, as the Lord can easily provide the funds we need. But the help of Mr. Gough in the remainder of the work is very desirable, and under these circumstances it is improbable that we should have it. I would ask special prayer then.’

Barely two weeks later, the Bible Society reached a decision which came as a definite answer to prayer:

‘There is no intention of taking it out of your hands,’ wrote his friend Mr. Pearse, forestalling the letter of the Committee. ‘They are evidently satisfied with what you are doing, and the way you are doing it.’ _

It meant that he was pledged more than ever to his part of the work—and the years were passing on. With returning strength the longing grew upon him to be back in China, especially when the death of Jones left the Bridge Street converts almost without pastoral care. Meadows, who had been bereaved of wife and child, was in sore need of companionship, and the local Christians of spiritual help. Everything pointed, humanly speaking, to Taylor’s return, and increased his longing to be in direct missionary work once more. Important as the revision was, he was young and craved activity and the joy of winning souls to Christ.

Yet did not the very answers to prayer that had been so marked bind him to continue the work that was detaining him, and carry it to completion?

But all the while another longing was taking possession of his soul, looming large and ever larger with strange persistence. Do what he would, he could not escape the call of inland China, the appeal of those Christless millions for whom no man seemed to care. On his study wall hung the map of the whole vast empire; on the table before him lay the ever-open Bible; and between the two how close and heart-searching the connection! Feeding, feasting, upon the Word of God, his eye would fall upon the map—and oh, the thought of those for whom nothing was prepared!

While on the field, the pressure of claims immediately around me was so great that I could not think much of the still greater need farther inland, and could do nothing to meet it. But detained for some years in England, daily viewing the whole country on the large map in my study, I was as near the vast regions of the interior as the smaller districts in which I had personally laboured—and prayer was the only resource by which the burdened heart could obtain any relief.

Laying aside their work, for Mr. Gough in measure shared this experience, they would call Maria and Lae-djiin, and unitedly pour out their hearts in prayer that God would send the Gospel to every part of China. And they did more than pray. Alone, or together, ‘they visited the representatives of the larger missionary societies, pleading the cause of those unevangelised millions. Everywhere they were met with sympathy, for the facts were their own argument; but everywhere also it was evident that nothing could or rather would be done. The objections raised were twofold: in the first place, financially, any aggressive effort was impossible. Neither the men nor the means were forthcoming. And were it otherwise, those remote provinces were practically inaccessible to foreigners. True, the treaty of 1860 provided for journeys and even residence inland, but that was merely on paper, and everywhere the conclusion was the same: ‘We must wait until God’s providence opens the door; at present we can do nothing.’

These objections, however, did not lessen the need or bring any lightening of the burden. Returning to the East End and his quiet study, Hudson Taylor found himself still challenged by the open Bible, the ever-accusing map. The Master had said nothing about politics or finance in His great commission. ‘Go ye... Lo, I am with you.’ ‘All the world... all the days’—so read command and promise. Was He not worthy of trust and utmost allegiance?

And there were others who thought as he did, friends who gathered weekly for prayer at Beaumont Street. Ever since the outgoing of the Meadows this meeting had been held on Saturday afternoons. None among those who attended was more interested in the Ningpo Mission than Mr. and Mrs. Berger, who came up from their beautiful home, a mansion near East Grinstead, to attend the meetings. As time went on and Hudson Taylor became increasingly burdened about the need and claims of China, Mr. Berger shared with him much of the exercise of heart involved, while in his gentle wife Maria found almost a mother’s sympathy. How little any of them can have anticipated the developments for which provision through this friendship was thus being made. It was in the growing sense of responsibility that the chief bond of union lay. Accompanying Taylor to a farewell meeting for a young worker about to go out to China, Mr. Berger was surprised to find a small poor church, without a single influential member, undertaking the whole of his support. The joy with which they were making sacrifices brought to Mr. Berger a new sense of the privilege of giving and suffering for Jesus’ sake, and the earnestness of Hudson Taylor’s address moved him to a definite resolve. Rising at the close of the meeting he said that what he had seen and heard overwhelmed him with shame because he had done so little, comparatively, for the cause of Christ. It filled him with joy also; and he had determined that night to do ten times more, yes, by the help of God, a hundred times more than he had hitherto attempted. It is interesting that this experience took place on March 13th, 1865, little more than three months before Taylor himself met the crisis of his life on the sands at Brighton.

Meanwhile Taylor had been drawn into a new undertaking, which was absorbing time and thought. Early in the year the pastor of the church to which he belonged (who was editor also of the Baptist Magazine) had asked for a series of articles on China with a view to awakening interest in the Ningpo Mission. -These Taylor had begun to prepare, and one had even been published, when the editor returned the ‘manuscript of the next. The articles, he felt, were weighty, and should have a wider circulation than his paper could afford.

“Add to them,’ he said earnestly, ‘let them cover the whole field and be published as an appeal for inland China.’

This seemed incompatible with Taylor’s many engagements. The revision of the Ningpo Testament was still the main task, and in addition there was preparation to be made for returning at last to China, accompanied by several new missionaries. Just as all seemed ready for advance, however, the current of events changed. Free passages for a couple of missionaries were unexpectedly offered ona ship shortly to sail, and two accepted candidates took advantage of them, while the fiancée of one followed a fortnight later. Of the remainder, one decided he wanted more time for preparation, a second was unable to free himself from home claims, and a third had not fully made up his mind about going. His own departure thus delayed, Hudson Taylor saw the opportunity afforded by the publication of an appeal for China. Even before his party had been broken up, the study necessary for these papers was bringing to a crisis the exercise of mind through which he had been passing. Compiling facts as to the size and population of every province in China, and making diagrams to show their neglected condition, stirred him to a desperate sense of the sin and shame of allowing such a state of things to continue. Yet what was to be done? The number of Protestant missionaries, as he had discovered, was diminishing rather than increasing. Despite the fact that half the heathen population of the world was to be found in China, the missionaries engaged in its evangelisation had actually been reduced, during the previous winter, from 115 to only ninety-one. This had come to light through his study of the latest statistics and, naturally, added fuel to the fire that was consuming him. But he had done all that was possible. No one would move in the matter. He must leave it now, until the Lord... But somehow that was not the final word.

Leave it, when he knew that he, smail, weak, and nothing as he was, might pray in faith for labourers and they would be given? Leave it, when there stood plainly in his Bible that solemn word, ‘When I say unto the wicked, Thou shalt surely die; and thou givest him not warning, nor speakest to warn the wicked from his wicked way, to save his life; the same wicked man shall die in his iniquity, but his blood will I require at thy hand’! Of this critical time he said,

I knew God was speaking. I knew that in answer to prayer evangelists would be given and their support secured, because the Name of Jesus is worthy. But there unbelief came in.

Suppose the workers are given and go to China; trials will come; their faith may fail; would they not reproach you for bringing them into such a plight? Have you ability to cope with so painful a situation?

And the answer was, of course, a decided negative. It was just a bringing in of se/f, through unbelief; the devil getting one to feel that while prayer and faith would bring one into the fix, one would have to get out of it as best one might. And I did not see that the Power that would give the men and the means would be sufficient to keep them also, even in the far interior of China.:

Meanwhile, a million a month were dying in that land, dying without God. This was burned into my very soul. For two or three months the conflict was intense. I scarcely slept night or day more than an hour at a time, and feared I should lose my reason. Yet I did not give in. To no one could I speak freely, not even to my wife. She saw, doubtless, that something was going on; but I felt I must refrain as long as possible from laying upon her a burden so crushing—these souls, and what eternity must mean for every one of them, and what the Gospel might do, would do, for all who believed, if we would take it to them.

The break in the journal at this point is surely significant. Faithfully the record had gone on for two and a quarter years; but now—silence. For seven weeks from the middle of April, lovely weeks of spring, there was no entry. First and only blank in those revealing pages, how much the very silence has to tell us! Yes, he was face to face with the purpose of God at last. Accept it, he dare not; escape it, he could not. And so, as long ago, ‘there wrestled a man with him until the breaking of the day’.

It was Sunday, June 25th, a quiet summer morning by the sea. Worn out and really ill, Hudson Taylor had gone to friends at Brighton and, unable to bear the sight of rejoicing multitudes in the house of God, had wandered out alone upon the sands left by the receding tide. It was a peaceful scene about him, but inwardly he was in agony of spirit. A decision had to be made and he knew it, for the conflict could no longer be endured.

‘Well,’ the thought came at last, ‘if God gives us a band of men for inland China, and they go, and all die of starvation even, they will only be taken straight to Heaven; and if one heathen soul is saved, would it not be well worth while?’

It was a strange way round to faith—that if the worst came to the worst it would still be worth while. But something in the service of that morning seems to have come to mind. God-consciousness began to take the place of unbelief, and a new thought possessed him as dawn displaces night:

Why, if we are obeying the Lord, the responsibility rests with Him, not with us!

This, brought home to his heart in the power of the Spirit, wrought the change once and for all.

‘Thou, Lord,’ he cried with relief that was unutterable, ‘Thou shalt have all the burden! At Thy bidding, as Thy servant I go forward, leaving results with Thee.’

For some time the conviction had been growing that he ought to ask for at any rate two evangelists for each of the eleven unoccupied provinces, and two for Chinese Tartary and Tibet. Pencil in hand he now opened his Bible, and with the boundless ocean breaking at his feet wrote the simple memorable words: ‘Prayed for twenty-four willing skilful labourers at Brighton, June 25th, 1865.’

‘How restfully I turned away from the sands,’ he said, recalling the deliverance of that hour. ‘The conflict ended, all was joy and peace. I felt as if I could fly up the hill to Mr. Pearse’s house. And how I did sleep that night! My wife thought Brighton had done wonders for me, and so it had.’

New life, evidently, had come to Hudson Taylor with the decision taken that June Sunday on the sands at Brighton, for he was up with the lark next morning and off to London at 6.30 a.m. No record remains of that day, save that Maria was cheered to see him better, and that he went to have special prayer with one who was wishing to join the Ningpo Mission, whose way was beset with difficulties; but on the day following we read:

June 27th: Went with Mr. Pearse to the London & County Bank, and opened an account for the China Inland Mission. Paid in £10.

It was the first appearance of the name that was to become so familiar—China Inland Mission.