If It Were Not . . .

It is easy to be misleading in writing briefly about places and people that are much on one’s heart, and to convey an impression that is incomplete. It may be that the reader who has travelled with us thus far scarcely realises how poor and unattractive our Kansu is in some respects. In winter, where it is not covered with snow, the country is one monotonous brown — bare brown hills of loess soil, which yield poor crops compared with the rich plains of other provinces. The mud-built walls and houses are brown, and so are the mud-made roads and mud-coloured people, as to their clothing at any rate. They are so poor in the villages that many of the children only possess one short upper garment, and have to huddle together on the brick-beds heated with flues to keep themselves from freezing. At noon when the sun is hot they come out for an hour or two, and one sees them by the roadside, quite naked but for a ragged jacket, standing about

1 The fuel used to heat these k’angs is often nothing but withered leaves, straw and sun-dried manure, and chimneys are commonly dispensed with, so that one may be literally smoked out while the k’ang is being warmed, and there is always more or less smell and grime.

barefoot in the snow with a shade temperature below zero. It is a comfort to know that, as a rule, they have enough to eat, potatoes, wheat and oats being raised in sufficient quantities to support the population, save in districts where such crops are replaced by opium.

We have already touched upon the lack of out¬ ward polish characteristic of many Kansu people. It accompanies a somewhat dour and independent disposition which is not always easy to deal with. The climate also is stimulating, too much so for many people’s nerves. The cities lie at an altitude of five, six and seven thousand feet, and the wonderful air has a disconcerting effect, at times, on one’s temper. People get sleepless, nervous, irritable, and the difficulties incident to the work are increased.

Then the long journeys are a great strain physically. The roughness of the frozen roads in winter, the clouds of dust mile after mile in summer, and the mud-holes in which the cart may stick for hours in rainy weather, are apt to become monotonous. Without braving the highest passes, there are mountains everywhere to be crossed, and that by the poorest of roads. Kansu is one stormy sea of mountains; and as to the inns at night, it is not always one can endorse the tribute of the Chinese traveller who wrote over the brick-bed, in a filthy room with no window, “Shen wo fuh ti” — “The body reposes in a delightful place!”

But these are small matters compared with the trials that come in the work itself — friction between fellow - workers, coldness and backsliding in the (

church, opposition from outsiders or a stony indifference to the Gospel. To those best acquainted with the province, Kansu seems very specially a region “where Satan’s seat is.” It is a stronghold of Mohammedanism as we have seen — bitter, bigoted Mohammedanism in places; and the remainder of its population is given up to idolatry. There are districts in which most of the men as well as the women belong to religious societies pledged to worship in the temples frequently, at stated intervals. The influence of lamaism is felt throughout large sections of the province, that most oppressive and degrading of all forms of Buddhism and the most actively opposed to the Gospel. And amid all this there is the isolation, if not loneliness and discouragement, incidental to missionary life in so inaccessible and lonely a region. Not without reason did a veteran missionary say, after many years’ work in the province, “If it were not that Christ has a hold upon us, some of us would have run away from this work long ago.” But then, Christ has a hold upon us — that means everything.

One encouraging feature of the work as a whole is the spirit of unity that exists between the two or three societies occupying the field. For many years the China Inland Mission was alone in the province, and it was a good day for all concerned when it was joined by the Christian and Mission¬ ary Alliance from America, one of whose pioneers, Mr. W. Christie, is now the beloved Superintendent

1 His “calling... purpose and grace” need never be separated (2 Timothy i. 8-12).

of the C. and M.A. district. A glance at the map accompanying this volume will show the division of the field between these societies, an important section to the east being worked by the Scandinavian Alliance, in affiliation with the C.I.M.

It is to the more populous part of the province, east of the capital, that we would in closing direct attention, with its fifty governing cities, representing as many/ counties. Forty of these cities are still without a missionary — fourteen in the Scandinavian Alliance district, eighteen to the west and south of it, and eight to the north, on the plains near the Yellow River.

Far from the Great Road, this north-eastern corner of the province has been peculiarly isolated and difficult to reach. There is little traffic on the Yellow River, except when great rafts go down composed of lumber from the Tibetan border, and passengers can engage one of the log cabins or huts which form a little street down the middle of the raft, supplementing for themselves such food as the captain provides. But the rafts do not come up-stream. The lumber is sold when they reach the busy mart of Pao-tow-chen, to which point the railway is being extended from Pekin. Hitherto the missionaries at Ningsia have been thirteen days’ journey from the nearest foreigners by the overland route to Lanchow, and it has been one of the most isolated stations of the mission. But before long, if the project of continuing the railway into Kansu is realised, Ningsia will be brought within a couple of days of Pekin, and will be the most accessible city in the province. Great changes will necessarily follow, and Mr. and Mrs. Fiddler and Mrs. Nystrom (C.I.M.), who have held the fort alone so long, will have many visitors.

Meanwhile they have the privilege of being the only witnesses for Christ in the city of Ningsia, whose wall, seven to eight miles in circumference, bears witness to its former greatness. The work has always been difficult, partly on account of the terrible past, which cannot but have left its mark on the character of the people. For in the Great Mohammedan Rebellion (1863-76) Ningsia was the scene of the worst excesses. It was taken first by the Moslems with terrible slaughter, then retaken after a long siege by the Imperial troops, who put the entire Moslem population to the sword. None escaped; and in that section, once largely occupied by Moslems, there are only small communities of some scores of families to-day, and these are new arrivals. The city was left in ruins, and the consequent commercial as well as social and moral reaction is slow to pass away.

The well-irrigated, fertile plains along the Yellow River present a more hopeful field for evangelistic work. Though not able ourselves to visit the district, we learned not a little of its possibilities from Mr. Mark Botham, who had taken advantage of a journey to Ningsia to do a good deal of evangelistic work by the way. For three days south of Ningsia and four days north of it, it was delightful to see the prosperity of the plain. East of the Yellow River the mountains are so distant as to be out of sight, and scarcely a stone was to be found on the rich, well-watered land. The whole was populous; over large areas he was never out of sight of farm¬ houses, and this seems characteristic of the country wherever irrigation is possible from the Yellow River.

And the people of this district are peculiarly accessible on account of their habit of repairing to the large market-towns, one after the other in regular rotation, at intervals of three days. The markets are held on the third, sixth, ninth, etc., of the month, and the farmers follow them round to buy and sell. The missionary, who with his books and tracts could do the same, would meet most of the people of the district without going beyond these market-towns. It forms a splendid field for working in this way, and Mr. Botham found crowds willing to listen. He had with him large coloured pictures of Scripture subjects, the Good Shepherd, the Prodigal Son, etc., and used them with great effect. The speaking, of course, was all in the open air, hour after hour, from morning till night. The people forgot that they” could not understand the foreigner’s words,” and became intensely interested, and many of them very friendly. Some of these markets are larger than the cities of the district, and all are open, waiting — as they have waited so long — for messengers of the Glad Tidings.

“Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature” — does it not apply to these plains? Mohammedans have not been slow to push the claims of their prophet. Up in the Ningsia district Mr. Botham found copies of the Koran (Arabic) nicely bound in red cloth with a flap to tuck in — foreign style — which had been brought by colporteurs all the way from India. Printed by one of the Mohammedan Forward Movements in that country, they had been sent right across Central Asia, down the Great Road and the Yellow River — painfully carried over deserts and mountains for thousands of miles — and sold on these plains by Indian missionaries who could speak but little Chinese. One of them died alone up here by the Yellow River. And we who know the Living Christ, who are His in deepest allegiance, have we no way of reinforcing the only man who is seeking to reach out from Ningsia to the perishing multitudes on these plains, and finds it beyond his power? He has more than one man’s work in and around the city, and is doing it faithfully with help from Mrs. Fiddler and Mrs. Nystrom. A preaching hall they have recently opened in one large town is filled with willing hearers. But such work might be multiplied in¬ definitely were there more prayer-power behind it and more preachers.

The same is true of the Scandinavian Alliance district immediately to the south, where the population is largely Mohammedan. In that region, it will be remembered, the earthquake was at its worst, leaving death and destruction behind it over a large area. From the city of Kuyuan twenty-four cart-loads of desperately wounded people were sent down to Mr. Torn vail at Pingliang — the central station of the Alliance in this province, where there is an admirable hospital waiting for a doctor. Mr. Tornvall, the senior missionary in the district, has a great reputation as a physician and surgeon. So large is his practice that he has gradually added ward after ward to his hospital premises, until now they are almost as perfect as the beautiful church recently erected on the same property. But it is difficult for one man, however gifted, to carry on both church and hospital, especially as Mr. Torn vail is not a doctor by profession. With the help of his son, Mr. Gustav Torn vail, he is doing a far-reaching work, but a qualified medical man is urgently needed, and would find Pingliang on the Great Road a splendid centre from which to reach the many cities in the Alliance district still without a missionary.

Two new stations have been opened since the earthquake by Mr. Tornvall’s fellow-workers — the cities of Kuyiian and Tsingningchow, in which there was more suffering and loss of life than in any other places in the province. It was near the former that the Mohammedan leader, Ma Sheng-ren, was killed, with thousands of his co-religionists, when the mountains flowed down and filled up the valleys for many a mile. Mr. and Mrs. Swenson with their children are living now amid the ruins of Kuyiian, and are finding many whose hearts are open to receive the comfort of the Gospel. The same is true of Tsingningchow, where Miss Wedicson and Miss Skollenberg are working. The Mandarin who behaved so heroically at the time of the earthquake has been promoted to higher office in another part of the province. But the ladies have the goodwill of all classes in the city, and there too a new church is growing up in the midst of a district largely Moslem. Shall we not pray that it may include many followers of Islam who in the time of their need found no help or comfort save from those who came to them for love of Christ with His saving message?

Southward from the Scandinavian Alliance district we come to the corner of the province in which missionary work was first begun. The chief city in this district was occupied long before we thought of travelling to Kansu by the Great Road. Pioneer missionaries at that time came from Hanchungfu, a journey of eleven days on pack-animals or in sedan-chairs, crossing ranges of beautifully wooded mountains. This was the route by which Miss Wilson of Kendal travelled when she accompanied Mrs. George Parker as a bride to the city of Tsinchow, and those two had the honour, amid hardship and loneliness, of being the first missionaries to the women of Kansu.

That was more than forty years ago, and the field in which there were long years of patient sowing has proved fruitful above many. North, south, east and west the work has spread, and there are Christians now in more than thirty centres. It was our privilege to spend some weeks with Mr. and Mrs. Rist and their fellow-workers, and to meet not a few well-established Christians and Chinese leaders.

We were gathering for breakfast one morning at the ladies’ house, when a middle-aged man stopped Miss Garland in the courtyard, with a list of names in his hand.

“It is the colporteur,” she said. “I must not keep him waiting. It is probably about relief for people left homeless through the earthquake.”

Presently she joined us, looking surprised and happy. She told us that the colporteur, whose name is K’ang, used to be a necromancer and none too good a character. Now he is a true, earnest Christian, and keen about soul-winning.

“And what do you think the list was? Not names for relief at all, but a whole series of people he wants me to pray for. He has been up in the Tsinan district, and to his delight has come across many in the city and neighbourhood who seem to believe the Gospel. ‘ Please pray for them one by one,’ he said, giving me particulars. ‘ They truly desire to follow the Lord Jesus.’”

This led to our hearing the story of this important but strongly anti-foreign city. Years ago, Miss Kinahan had made a brave attempt to get an opening there. Despite crowding and discomfort, she stayed for three weeks in an inn, but only to find that she could do little or nothing. An un¬ written law of the place seems to be that no woman is allowed on the principal streets. It is considered not so much bad for their morals as bad for business, and the shopkeepers will not have it! Thus women could not come to the inn, and when Miss Kinahan went out she was only once invited into a house all the while she was there. But her prayers have not been unanswered.

The time came when “White Wolf” and his brigands gained possession of the city. Amid the looting and carnage a wealthy woman was trying to protect her only son. He was shot in her arms, the bullet seriously wounding her also. Heart¬ broken and in great suffering, she managed to come in a day’s journey to Tsinchow, having heard that the missionaries in this centre were caring for the wounded. Here she was received into the ladies’ house and made to feel so much at home that she stayed for three months. Touched by the kindness shown her, she found healing for soul as well as body. When she returned to Tsinan she begged Mrs. Rist and Miss Garland to come and stay with her, an invitation they were not slow to accept.

That three weeks was very different from Miss Kinahan’s visit. They found themselves welcomed into a pleasant home on a residential street, where women could come freely. Their room was crowded from morning till night, many staying on after dark to hear more quietly. Mrs. Liu compassed them with hospitality, but they hardly had time to do justice to the tempting meals, on account of the number of visitors who wanted to hear the Gospel. For these women did not waste time in idle questions. The foreigners were much like themselves, wearing their dress and speaking their words. It was the message they wanted to hear, the wonderful story of Redeeming Love. Many of them were vegetarians for the sake of obtaining merit, but found in it nothing to satisfy hungry, fearful hearts. So they listened eagerly to the Glad Tidings of merit not our own, but Another’s; righteousness not to be worked for or purchased with money, but received through faith.

Again and again the visit was repeated, and each time the ladies found remarkable openings. Some¬ thing was being done for the men also, Dr. Ts’ao, the earnest deacon of the Tsinchow church, having sent a man over to open a medicine shop who was as good as an evangelist. He was an attractive personality and made many friends. The shop was almost a street-chapel, and the tall, fine-looking young man preaching Christ behind his counter made an impression on the people of the street. Inquirers began to gather, and Sunday services were held, which promised well for the future. But, sad to say, the young preacher developed the disease which is carrying off so many thousands in China, tuberculosis. It is about three years since he died of rapid consumption.

Mr. Rist was able to send out an evangelist at that time who did good work. A couple of rooms were secured in a busy suburb of the city, and some of the inquirers were baptized. The man whose roof fell during the earthquake, burying eight people — none of whom were injured — was one of these, a real centre of light in his village ten miles from the city. But the evangelist too had to leave the work, recalled by still more pressing claims, and the Christians are a little flock without a shepherd.

Yet the Lord is working in the district. Scattered believers have been met with here and there, some of whom heard the Gospel in Mrs. Liu’s home years ago, and some who heard from the young medicine-seller. Mrs. Liu herself has gone to be with the Lord, and it is much harder for the women now that they have not her house to meet in. Somewhat discouraged on a later visit in trying to find old friends, Miss Garland met a lady who proved to be a sister of Mrs. Liu’s, and who carried her off to her own home. She and her husband were both earnest vegetarians, and with one of their sons and four young daughtersin-law listened attentively to the Gospel. The old gentleman and lady were so interested that they came to the chapel and began to attend the Sunday services. Passing their door one day, Miss Garland was stopped.

“Do come in again,” they said, “if only for a few minutes, just to teach us to pray.”

It was a great advance when, during Miss Garland’s last visit, women began to come to the Sunday services. Very shy at first, they plucked up courage to face the busy streets, though the shop¬ keepers cursed them as they passed. For two weeks she had the place crowded with visitors and the k’ang packed on Sunday for the meetings. And how the women did enjoy the teaching and the hymns! That district north of Tsinchow seems just ready for the reaper, but, with so many other places to visit, it is but rarely the missionaries can take the long journey over the mountains. It would be an admirable centre for two women who could live there among the people and follow up the work that the Spirit of God is manifestly doing in many hearts.

And there are other places within fifty miles of Tsinchow where such workers are needed. Ten regular chapels have been opened in widelyseparated centres, some of which have as many as sixty baptized church members, while others have only few as yet but a growing number of inquirers. Take, for example, the town of Sweet Fountain Monastery with the seventy villages that send their produce there to market. A few years ago there was not a single Christian in that neighbourhood; now, in out-of-the-way places among the hills, many a little company is found. One whole village seems to be turning to the Lord, and in the town itself there are twenty- two church members. The premises they use for worship have been obtained largely at their own cost, and in addition to the chapel they have rooms for visitors.

When Miss Susie Garland first went to this place, a day’s journey east of Tsinchow, there was no friend to visit and no welcome. She and the Bible-woman put up at an inn, and it was almost with a start she saw over the door of their room, “Greetings from H. W. Hunt,” in large, bold writing — a paper nailed up by a missionary who had been there long years before. Rain poured down after their arrival, and the Bible-woman, who had gone to a neighbour¬ ing village, could not get back for the night. Miss Garland was wondering whether she would have to sleep alone, when an old lady who had come to see her said kindly:

“You will be lonesome in this big, dark room. I will stay with you for the night.”

So it was arranged, and the two sat together on the heated brick-bed, but before long the old lady began to get restless.

“I must go home,” she said. “I must go
home!”

Miss Garland, who guessed the reason, answered quietly:

“There is no need to go home. You can pray to the Lord Jesus here on this k’ang, and He will deliver you from your opium-craving.”

“Will He really?”

“Yes, if you believe in Him and ask Him to do so.”

They prayed together and went to rest, and the old lady slept peacefully till morning. Then she was very much astonished.

“Certainly your God has power!” she exclaimed. “I do believe in Him, and will be His follower.”

From that time she set herself to learn, and soon broke her vegetarian vow of many years’ standing. She gave up opium-smoking with very little help from medicine, and became not only a warm friend but an earnest helper to the missionaries. She was well off, possessing a beautiful stretch of forest land, with an inn and several houses, twelve miles to the south of Sweet Fountain Monastery, as well as her home in the town itself. Nothing would satisfy her but that the missionaries should go out there to rest among the mountains and help her tell the Glad Tidings, for there were many farmsteads in the valleys round about.

So one hot season they went, and found to their surprise a little Paradise — yes, even in Kansu! High up among the hills, they were in the midst of beautiful woods with real forest trees. Streams were abundant, clear rushing torrents, shaded by banks of maiden-hair and other ferns. The lilies growing wild over the mountains were exquisite in beauty and fragrance, and there were strawberries, cherries, and blackberries in abundance. There were wolves, too, in the forest, and even leopards, but happily they kept out of sight. Not so the snakes — great beautiful things that probably came after the wild pheasants. They were wonderfully handsome, but it was a little uncanny to have a whole family of them under the floor of one’s bedroom, and to find that they must be spoken of with respect, lest they should be offended! They were poisonous, but well-behaved on the whole, and the people never dreamed of killing them.

In this beautiful neighbourhood it was a joy to find remarkable readiness to hear the Gospel. The visitors were kept busy, old Mrs. Ch’ao always having some one she wanted to take them to, or some one she wanted to bring to the meetings. There are now baptized believers in five or six places connected with Sweet Fountain, and the number of inquirers increases steadily. Not a few of these have been won through the healing in answer to prayer of men and women suffering from demon-possession, such cases being sadly common there among the mountains. One of the first was Mrs. Chang of Tao-huei, who had been possessed for years, and whose whole family were in terror of the spirit. If it was offended, some disaster was sure to happen — accident or fire, sick¬ ness and even death, traceable to no other cause. This woman had a married daughter living at Sweet Fountain, who with her husband had been led to faith in Christ.

“If my mother could only hear about the Saviour,” she said again and again, “she would be delivered from the evil power.”

At length the son-in-law went off over the mountains to tell the Chang family all he could about the Gospel. They had never heard before, and gladly welcomed any hope of deliverance. The father consented to the idols being destroyed, and when this was done they knelt down to give themselves to the true and living God. They prayed in all simplicity that the evil spirit might depart from their home and trouble them no more. It was a real cry, an earnest cry, in the Name that is above every name, and the answer was just what they longed for. From that hour Mrs. Chang was completely delivered. She could sleep in peace and go about her work unafraid. At first her mind was dull and slow when she tried to learn. But the distress and apprehension, the evil suggestions and attacks of frenzy, were all gone. And very soon her memory improved and her whole personality brightened. For a time her husband’s backwardness troubled her.

“I know that he believes,” she said, “but he will not pray.”

Now he too is making progress, and both are baptized members of the Church.

The first time Miss Garland went to their home she had an unusual experience. She found it beautifully situated among the hills, and received a royal welcome. Food had been preparing all day, and after a supper that was indeed a feast the women wanted a meeting. It was the biggest of big rooms, and the visitor’s candle at one end made a circle of light, while the rest was practically in darkness. Soon the great k’ang was crowded with women, eagerly listening and leaning forward. Miss Garland knew that there would probably be a few men near the door, but forgot all about them as she talked on and on in the unusual silence. Such attention she had rarely met with, and the matchless Story was told in all its fullness. It was only when the hour was late and some one lifted the candle to make a move, that she found the whole room full of men, who had been listening with as much interest as the women. When they saw her astonishment they came forward, bowed and thanked her, and began to ask that she would come to all their homes. Very many wanted help in cases of demon-possession, and some of the stories she heard were indeed pitiful. Next day she was taken to house after house, and was encouraged to find that several people had already been healed in answer to the prayers of the Christians. In one big room crowded with men and women she had a good opportunity of telling of Him who came “that He might destroy the works of the devil.”

“Kiao-sze tso ih-ko tao-kao,” the people said: “Teacher, make a prayer for us.”

This she did in place after place, not only praying for them but teaching them to pray. And still the work is going on. On Sunday the Christians attend the service at Sweet Fountain Monastery and learn what they can, but they look forward to the visits of the missionaries from the city as times of special help. Alas, that these can only come so rarely!

Much might be told of other places, and of the difficulties that come to the missionary in charge of such a district. Mr. and Mrs. Rist, away on furlough after years of devoted service, are being replaced by Mr. and Mrs. Whitelaw, who specially need our prayers, being new to the province. From an equally needy district in the south of China, which did not suit Mr. Whitelaw’s health, they have come to take up the burden — for burden it is, much as the missionary loves the work. Think of it: not only the central church with its schools and out-stations, but the unreached population of Tsinchow itself, which is more like five cities strung together than one, and the great unevangelised south-east of the province stretching away on all sides! Fifteen governing cities in that part of the province are still without a missionary, each one the capital of a county.

Let us come in thought to one of these, the chief city in a populous region south of Tsinchow. On the hills around it are several famous temples, and the place is a noted centre for demon-worship. Spiritism holds the people in fear, and so many were the planchette associations that they were suppressed not long since by the Government, on account of the harm they were doing among all classes. It is in this city of Siho that the men as well as the women are bound together in organised societies for idol worship. In one of these, no fewer than fifteen hundred women are solemnly pledged to go to a certain temple on the hills to burn incense twice everv month.

Picture the scene as Miss Susie Garland describes it — when they kneel, hundreds of them at a time, inside and outside the temple, facing the great gilded idol. Each one holds a long stick of incense between the hands raised reverently to the forehead. There they kneel in silence, while slowly, slowly, the incense burns away and prayers are chanted before the unconscious image.

In that same city a Christian died not long since

o with the words on his lips: “I am tasting the fragrant love of Christ.” How many more might enter into that blessedness if only missionaries with loving hearts could come and live among them!