Sowing the Seeds

This is the second chapter of The Story of Fuh-Kien Mission of the Church Missionary Society by Eugene Stock. The third edition of this book was published in 1890. All footnotes were added by me.

His spirit was stirred in him, when he saw the city wholly given to idolatry. Therefore disputed he in the synagogue… and in the market daily with them that met with him. Then certain philosophers… encountered him. And some said, What will this babbler say? Other some, He seemeth to be a setter forth of strange gods; because he preached unto them Jesus, and the resurrection. - Acts xvii. 16-18.

In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand: for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good. - Eccl. xi. 6.

Sowing the seed by the day-light fair,
Sowing the seed by the noon-tide glare;
Sowing the seed by the fading light,
Sowing the seed in the solemn night:
O what shall the harvest be?
What shall the harvest be?

In May, 1850, the Revs. W. Welton and R. D. Jackson arrived at Fuh-Chow as missionaries of the Church Missionary Society. The American missionaries, who had preceded them by four years, were not allowed to live inside the walls, but only at the suburb of Nantai. Through the intervention of the British Consul, however, part of a temple, on the Wu-shih-shan Hill, within the city walls, was assigned to the new-comers as a residence. This concession, which was obtained with difficulty, would probably have been soon lost but for the personal popularity quickly acquired by Mr. Welton, who having been a medical man of some experience, opened a dispensary, to which Chinese of all classes thronged. The literati, who had several clubs on the hill, where they met for discussion or worship, and in which students up from the country for their examination could reside for a term, took umbrage at the proximity of the missionaries, and having failed to prevent their occupation of the temple, resolved to turn them out. A series of petty annoyances began: the tiles of the roof were forcibly removed one night, and the garden door carried away; efforts were made to rouse the passions of the populace; and at last the priest of the temple, who was the lessee, brought to the Consul the quarter’s rent which had been paid in advance, and begged him to get rid of the obnoxious tenants. Nothing came of this, and though the excitement continued, some successful cures performed by Mr. Welton won the hearts of the people. But ultimately, to save the local officials who had ratified the agreement from the displeasure of the supreme authorities at Peking, to whom the literati appealed, the missionaries consented to remove to another temple, equally well situated, but not objected to by the literary class.

This difficulty, however, was but the first of many similar ones in the history of the Fuh-Kien Mission.

The ninth day of the ninth moon is a great festival, the principal amusement of which is the flying of kites, made in the shape of birds and insects, on that very Black-Stone Hill on which the temple was situated. During this festival, in the following year, 1851 (when it fell on November 1st), the crowd of holiday-makers attacked the premises, destroyed the furniture, and carried off all they could lay hands upon. Mr. Welton took refuge in the interior of the temple, and was kindly protected by the priest. A few months later, when he hired a Chinese house with a view of fitting it up as a school, the workmen employed in repairing and adapting it were so violently threatened by the literati that they had to desist; two literary men engaged to organise the school were seized by the authorities (acting, it was believed, under instructions from Peking, where reactionary counsels then prevailed), flogged, and cast into prison; and Mr. Welton was obliged to abandon his plan. A piece of land, however, was at length secured, upon which mission-houses and other buildings were erected; and for twenty-seven years there premises were occupied without molestation. How they had then to be abandoned will appear hereafter.

The spirit of the missionaries, like that of St. Paul at Athens, was from the first deeply stirred by the sight of a whole city “given to idolatry,” “full of idols.” Heathen processions and superstitious observances met their eyes on every side as they walked the streets. Mr. Jackson wrote (July, 1850): -

At this particular time of the year we can hardly stir out but we meet idolatrous processions. The gods are presented by immense pasteboard heads and bodies, with wooden arms, which are moved by strings. They are supported by men, who are covered with the long drapery flowing from the idols’ necks; opposite to the man’s face a hole is cut for the purpose of enabling him to see and breathe. It is enough to excite the smile of ridicule to notice the swaggering gait some of the men assume when they see the foreigner coming. Sometimes, as they can only see straight before him, in moving to one side of the way the idol’s head gets a blow, and on one occasion his crown got knocked off. The people are “mad upon their idols.”

Little missionary work could be done by men who as yet knew not the language; but Mr. Weltons’s dispensary, besides exerting a powerful influence in giving them favour in the sight of the people, was made a means of disseminating Gospel truth, a Chinese tract, directing the reader to the “True Physician,” being given to every patient; and as for three or four years from 2,000 to 3,000 cases were treated annually, the way of life must have been made known very widely by this instrumentality. From 1852 to 1855 Mr. Welton laboured alone, Mr. Jackson having been removed elsewhere; and his perseverance soon enabled him to converse with the people. Among the villagers of the surrounding country, the frequenters of the plays performed in the temples by strolling actors, the students who flocked to Fuh-Chow for the literary examinations, the sick for whom his visits as a doctor were requested, the lepers in he village allotted for their separate residence, the Tartar soldiers in their distinct quarter of the city, and many other classes, we find him mingling freely, with the message of salvation ever on his lips. Everywhere “the common people heard him gladly”; he travelled from place to place without molestation; and even the extreme shyness at first manifested by the women gradually wore off. Natives were also employed to sell or distribute Chinese Testaments; but being of course heathen, they proved untrustworthy. In 1854 Mr. Welton succeeded in starting a school, which was soon well attended. Among those who sought his medical aid were the victims of opium, both the smokers and the friends of those who took it to destroy themselves: -

Aug. 7, 1850. - I have had applications from all classes of Chinese to cure them of opium smoking. They have generally, the better class especially, a great abhorrence of it, and pray for medicine to cure them of the habit. Their abhorrence extends to opium dealers; and the missionary who boldly opposes and decries the practice has a greater hold on the affections of the people. I always insist on the opium pipe being given up before I give medicine, as a test of sincerity. I have about fourteen pipes in my possession. Two persons earnestly besought me afterwards to restore them their pipes, which I resolutely refused. One man brought two persons with him, and tried to coerce me into it, but he did not succeed. I called to-day to see a married woman who had taken opium with a view to destroy herself. This is the common means of suicide among the Chinese. I am generally called to the opium suicides early in the morning, at daybreak, for the opium is taken at night, and the friends do not know it until the following morning, when some hours have elapsed, and all hope of recovery is past.

This form of suicide is still common, and the missionaries have been frequently sent for, as Mr. Welton describes.

In June, 1855, after three years of patient sowing of the good seed alone, Mr. Welton was cheered by the arrival of two fellow-labourers, the Revs. F. M‘Caw and M. Fearnley; but in the following year his own health broke down, and he returned home to die. He entered into rest March, 1857, leaving a touching testimony to his love for the great cause in the shape of a legacy to the Society of £1,500. Meanwhile the young missionaries were hard at work upon the language; and one of Mr. Fearnley’s letters vividly paints the difficulties of the task: -

Learning the language with my teacher, word by word and sound by sound, and bringing every word into immediate use, in communication with my servants on domestic matters, or with the workers in wood and stone outside. Sounds have been my principal attention hitherto, practicing incessantly the vowel sounds and tones, so utterly unlike anything the English ear and tongue have been accustomed to in their native land. The organs of speech have to be called off from many of their old actions, and forced violently into perpetually new motions and combinations. Latterly I have looked a little to the character, and I have felt quite refreshed by this partial relief of my overtasked ears and tongue, and employment of my yet unlaboured eyes.

In less than eighteen months after their arrival, however, they were able to begin preaching in public, and before this they were actively engaged in going from place to place conversing with the people. We append an extract or two from their journals, as illustrations of the first attempts to set the message of salvation before the people of Fuh-Chow. Mr. Fearnley writes: -

Dec. 16, 1856. - Returned down the South Street towards my residence. As I had come up it, I had thought, “Well, this is too noisy and too crowded; one could not preach here; it would be a very good place, an admirable place, for a chapel; but one could not preach here in the open street; the press is too great, and the cries and noises too many.” These had been my thoughts on going up the street; but as I returned down it, a man, leaning over the counter of a wine shop, seeing my blue bag, said, “Have you books?” and, on my answering in the affirmative, rejoined, “Give me a volume.” By this time Iwas advanced close to his counter, and said to him, “But why do you want a volume? Do you know what doctrine it teaches?” “Yes, the doctrines of Jesus,” said he. “Well,” I said, “I will enunciate to you some of the doctrines of Jesus if you are willing to hear.” And, without giving him the book immediately, I began to tell him and his fellow-shopman and some bystanders outside, a few of the great and glorious truths which, rightly received, are able to make men wise unto salvation. Soon I heard a feeble voice close at my left hand, inquiring, in apparently earnest tones, whether Jesus was still alive; and, turning, found they proceeded from a very old and emaciated-looking man, who, by his pitiable poor and age-weary look, might reasonably put himself forward as one interested in a doctrine which spoke of a place where are the riches of everlasting pleasures, and where age and decay are unknown. Of course this question gave me an admirable starting point; and I declared to them, in no diffident terms I imagine, the eternal majesty of Him “who liveth and was dead, and, behold, He is alive for evermore.”

After taking some time at this spot, and gradually turning away from the shop to address more audibly the now greatly-increased crowd, I acceded to the proposition of a barber, who was plying his trade at my left hand, and whose business was somewhat incommoded by the numbers of my auditory, and mounted a low stone breastwork which he pointed out to me on the opposite side of the road. Hither came all my previous audience, and more added themselves besides, for their standing-place was larger. And here, in the main street of Fuh-Chow, for as long a time as my voice would hold out in that open and noisy place, did I continue to address them, stimulated every now and then by some question put to me by one among the listeners, and unfolding to them,  as well as my yet narrow vocabulary would permit, the fearful truths of judgment and eternity; and inviting them, while yet it was to-day, while yet the grave had not shut its mouth upon them, to seek the Saviour Christ Jesus. I gave only one book to a well-dressed literary-looking man at this place, besides the one, i.e., that I left in the shop where I began my discourse, for the crowd was so dense, and it was utterly beyond my power to put the books into the hands of those to whom I wished them to come, viz., the more educated-looking among them. It was very pleasing, however, to see how perfectly free they were from any inclination to violence. In the very midst of the uproar, when a hundred hands were uplifted, and a hundred voices were shouting for a volume, and man and boy were pressing forward, and almost tumbling one over the other, in their eagerness to get the first chance of the coveted treasure, immediately I said, quietly but firmly, that I would give no book more at that place, and proceeded to step down from my eminence among the people, they at once made way; not a hand was raised to take a volume from my bag. With the exception of a few who accompanied me along the street, talking quietly and courteously to me, they dispersed, and the stream of noise and talk and traffic resumed its usual current through the ever-busy South Street.

Turning out of the South Street, when a little beyond the Confucian temple, I walked leisurely on homeward, somewhat wearied and lowered in voice-power by my late exertion. But meeting several people with books in their hands, which I conjectured to have been given to them by my colleague, Mr. M‘Caw, and which, on examination, I found to be really so - meeting these, I could not forbear taking a volume from the hand of a young man who held it, and questioning him as to the doctrine it taught. This soon brought a crowd about me, and the conversation and address from me which ensued was to me the most pleasing I had been engaged in that day. The first person that markedly engaged my attention was a tall, handsome-looking, well-dressed young man, who undertook, it would appear, to roast me a little for the amusement of the bystanders. “And this Jesus,” he began, “if a man believes in Him he’ll go to heaven, will he?” “Yes, if he truly believes in Him, and so hates sin, which Jesus’ soul hateth, trusting to His merits only, he will go to heaven.” “Oh!” and a scornful smile played over his features the while, and I could see his side-look of ridicule to those beside him - “Oh! and what must we do if we believe in Jesus? what must we do? What must our course of conduct be?” There, I fancy, he considered that he had puzzled me, for his laugh was peculiarly joyous, and his side-wink to the bystanders exceedingly triumphant. But I told him that I would answer him very quickly if he would listen. “First,” I said, “let the heart within think good thoughts. Jesus knows the thoughts, and all those who profess faith in Him must purify their thoughts. Secondly, let the mouth speak good and holy words - no falsehood, no wicked, no reviling words. (Here the Chinese offend grievously.) Thirdly, let he hand occupy itself in good deeds, not in stealing, not in fighting, not in injuring men.” As I gave him these three divisions of the conduct to be observed by those who wished to believe in Jesus, his face became more serious. My positions were founded on principles which he himself and his countrymen could deny to be good. He turned his head and looked behind him when I uttered the first as if he were looking for somebody coming up in that direction; but really, if my thoughts misled me not, in a certain measure of disappointment that my answer gave him so little handle for ridicule. I called to him to listen to me again when he turned his head away, and gave him my second branch of Christian duty, and afterwards my third.

Another man, apparently a tradesman, brought an argument against both the power and benevolence of Jesus, and his scornfully and mockingly. Being of humble grade, his thoughts occupied with things material, he said, “I think that Jesus should make rice cheaper, that the people, now but scantily fed, might eat.” “Why,” I said, “if men were dealt with according to their deserts, it would be still dearer even than now.”

Thus is it then, in the back-room away from the street, on the front shop threshold, in the open glare and toil and bustle of the main street, in the by-lane, in the little bay by the street side, where a wall perhaps recedes and gives standing room, in each and every place, by God’s mercy, we are permitted and privileged to preach the everlasting Gospel.

Dec. 17. - It was curious to observe how much interest already had been excited in this part of the city. “Books, books,” was the cry everywhere; and I could hear one little boy repeating to a man with whom he was walking some of my remarks respecting the sin of using bad language in the streets. Many shouted, as I thought in ridicule, “Jesus,” “Jesus,” “Jesus is very high.” And, in addition to our common name of “foreign child,” I heard one person calling after me, “Jesus’ foreign child.” So that that wondrous name has already begun its progress here; now in shame and contumely, but to end, we hope, in the mouths of many at least in glory and reverence.

Dec. 20. - To-day again went down into the streets to repeat my small attempt at preaching. Once, during the morning, before I went down, the thought came before me so vividly of my exceeding inaptitude for such a work, my yet lamentably scanty stock of words, my still scantier power of idiomatic construction and sentences, my far from perfect utterance of the tones - joined with all which, too, I reflected on the exceeding dissimilarity of the modes of thought of the people of this land and of my own land - and the result of the whole on my mind was, “Oh, how can I go? How can I possibly stand there by a wall-side with a hundred staring Chinamen about me, and exhibit to them all my imperfections, and lay before them my uncouth modes of thought? How can I do this?” But yet, with all these thoughts, I did not for a moment say, “Shall I stay? Shall I omit to go?”

The next paragraph is from Mr. M‘Caw’s journal. He refers to what the missionaries have ever found the chief hindrance to their work, the opium traffic. Such scenes as he describes are still frequent, and sadly militate against the missionaries’ success. It may be stated here that in the Great South Street, not far from the printer’s mentioned by Mr. M‘Caw, there is now a chapel belonging to the Society.

Oct. 16. - Preached at the printer’s door, corner of Great South Street. When I had spoken some time, a smart-looking man asked me if I had any opium. “No,” I said, “I don’t use it, nor do the true worshippers of Jesus use it either.” “What countryman are you?” was his next question. “Englishman,” I answered. “And you do not smoke opium? Do not your countrymen bring it here?” He then turned to the crowd, with an air of triumph, raising his hand and shaking it aloft, soon enlisting all the audience on his side; and to make the scene more ludicrous - to say nothing worth of it - in the midst of all the confusion an old woman, apparently above sixty, came forward, and clenching her hand, shook it up at my face in desperate rage. I remained quiet for some time, until the noise abated; then I addressed them on the subject, and told them that I came here to teach them a religion which condemned all such evil drugs and practices.

Neither of the two brethren found any lack of willing hearers; but neither was spared to the Mission long enough to have the joy of seeing any of these hearers turning from idols to serve the living God. Mr. M‘Caw’s career in particular, though giving great promise of future usefulness, was a brief one indeed. His wife had been taken from him within a few months of her landing in China, and after two years’ faithful labour he too died of fever in August, 1857. Another two years saw the Mission deprived also of Mr. Fearnley, who was obliged by his wife’s illness to leave; and though in the meanwhile the Rev. G. Smith had arrived at Fuh-Chow, this again left the work to a single labourer unfamiliar with the language.

Long, however, before Mr. Smith could speak with any comfort or readiness, he was going in and out among the people, setting before them with a stammering tongue, but with the loving heart of a true missionary, the claims and the invitations of the Gospel. We have just seen the ordinary incidents of such work, and need not repeat them. But one passage in Mr. Smith’s journal is worth noticing, as it introduces us to a department of evangelistic work in Fuh-Chow, which must have severely tried both his patience and his moral courage.

In China, the honour attached to the attainment of literary degrees is extraordinary, and success in the examinations is an indispensable qualification, not only for official employment, but for social position. There are four of these degrees. The first, to attain which the candidate must pass three examinations, is called Siu-Tsai^[1], or “Budding Talent.” It raises the possessor of it above the common people, and exempts him from corporal punishment, but it does not qualify him for Government employ. The second degree, called Ku-Jin^[2], or “Promoted Man,” qualifies for the lower offices. The examination for it is held every three years, in all the eighteen provincial capitals; and there are generally from five to ten thousand candidates at each capital. The third, called Tsin-Sz^[3], or “Advanced Scholar,” is the entrance to higher official life, and the examination, also triennial, is held only at Peking. The forth degree of Han-Lin^[4], or, as it may be called, “Academician,” is only attained by the few who aspire to the highest posts, and is conferred with much ceremony at the imperial palace. The triennial examination for the second degree was held at Fuh-Chow in 1859, and the city was crowded with candidates from every part of the province of Fuh-Kien; and Mr. Smith resolved, if he could not speak intelligibly to these students, that he would at least distribute copies of the Scriptures at the door of the examination hall: -

Aug. 15. - This year the examinations for the Ku-Jin, or second literary degree, take place in this city. Consequently the place is crowded with reading men from every part of this large province, and it forms an admirable opportunity for spreading far and wide a knowledge of the truth. To-day we went down with a large number of copies of the Scriptures, to take advantage of the opportunity thus presented. After waiting about two hours, during which we engaged in conversation with the people standing about the place, and beating of a drum, a loud report produced by a kind of cracker, and the commencement of some very unharmonious music, announced the speedy exit of some of the anxious candidates, to each of whom we proffered a volume out of our treasures, and only in two instances were they declined. Some, getting one volume, came to us to complete the set. Besides ourselves, two American brethren were engaged in the same good work. Nor was Satan altogether idle; he had a servant there distributing short tracts concerning Kwang-Ing^[5], the goddess of mercy, according to the Chinese. Another was endeavouring to procure merit by distributing perfumes to the scholars, including ourselves in his favours. Others were equally busy, perhaps even more perseveringly so, in selling tea and refreshments to the weary candidates.

Aug. 17. - Again distributing Scriptures to the literary men. It may be that many will not be read, many not even taken home; but if only one or two should be instrumental in turning an idolater from the error of his way, all our expenditure and fatigue will be more, far more, than repaid.

Aug. 19. - At the examination hall again with copies of the precious Word. Whilst waiting, we got into conversation with a literary man from Iong-Ping^[6], a city about 110 miles further up the river. He had received books both from us and the American missionaries on a former day, and commenced his conversation by remarking on their contents. Thus one instance came to our knowledge in which our books had received some attention. Perhaps this man, on his return, may read the strange books to others, and thus the seed of life be introduced into his far distant city.

Aug. 21. – Again at our post, though a wearisome work, and one from which no immediate result is to be anticipated. Yet we feel it our duty and our privilege to sow the seed, leaving it perchance to others to reap the harvest. On this occasion many of the candidates under examination belonged to the city. This drew a large crowd of their friends to the place, which rendered our work much more difficult. This time, too, it was quite dark before the doors were opened, which added to our task, by making it more difficult for the candidates to see the offered books, and for us to distinguish them from the crowd; and at last, fatigued and exhausted, we had to wend our way home without quite emptying our baskets.

The following additional entry in his journal takes us behind the scenes with regard to these examinations: -

Aug. 26. - At the beginning of this month my teacher complained of weakness from the excessive heat, and expressed his inability to come for the whole day, proposing to come but half the day and receive but half pay. Knowing the Chinese greediness for money, and feeling the effects of the heat myself, I supposed him to be sincere, and consented to his proposal. After a few days his eyes became very bad, and he was unable to come at all. This, too, is a very common ailment among the Chinese, and did not excite my suspicion. But at the end of the month I was surprised by an unblushing confession, entirely unasked for, that he had got permission to stay away in order to write minute copies of the Chinese classics for the use of men going into the examinations, for them to secrete in their clothes, and this had made his eyes bad. This man has been with missionaries now about eight years, and is in the habit of explaining the Scriptures to our people. We have every reason to fear that his heart is thoroughly seared against the truth, yet are obliged to retain him in order to get a knowledge of the language. This is not the least of a missionary’s trials.

Ten years had now elapsed. Diligently and prayerfully had the sowers scattered the good seed over the Happy City and the surrounding valley. But while year after year the fertile and well-watered plain yielded its earthly produce to the labours of the agriculturist - while the rice and the tobacco and the sugar-cane flourished, and crop after crop was gathered in - while the countless chests piled up on the wharves for export showed that the tea plantations, too, in the uplands failed not amply to reward the cultivators - the spiritual husbandman waited, and waited, and looked in vain for any sign that the seed of the kingdom had even taken root, much less was springing up. The people were hearers, indeed, and willing hearers, but they were wayside hearers. The Gospel grain fell upon hearts not only naturally hard, but trodden over by the petrifying tramp of superstition, and ignorance, and vice.

But how was it that the earth yielded its increase in regular and unchanging order? Was it not because He whose power alone gives “rain from heaven and fruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and gladness,” had given His Divine decree that “while the earth remaineth, seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night, shall not cease”? And if the same God has also promised to the spiritual sower that “in due season he shall reap, if he faint not,” would not the very fact that the one promise was fulfilled before the eyes of the missionaries year by year be assurance to them that, in the Lord’s time, the other must needs be fulfilled also?

And so it was. Though sickness or death had removed Welton, and M‘Caw, and Fearnly, and the wives of the two latter, the new-comer, Mr. Smith, “fainted not,” and “in due season,” as we shall see, he did reap.

’Mid the tread of many feet,
’Mid the hurry and the throng,
In the burden and the heat,
Have the working hours seemed long?
Softly the shadow falls,
And the pilgrim’s race is run;
While through celestial halls
Resounds the glad “Well done!”

Well worth the daily cross;
Well worth the earnest toil;
Well worth reproach and loss,
The fight on stranger soil!
Let us lift our hearts and pray,
And take our journey on;
Work while ’tis called to-day
With the thought of that “Well done!”
> Author of Copsley Annals.

Fret not for sheaves; a holy patience keep;
Look for the early and the latter rain,
For all that faith hath scattered love shall reap.
Gladness is sown: they Lord may let thee weep,
But not one prayer of thine shall be in vain.
> Anna Shipton.

Footnotes

[1] 秀才 (Séu-còi);
[2] 举人 (Gṳ̄-ìng);
[3] 进士 (Céng-sê̤ṳ);
[4] 翰林 (Hâng-lìng);
[5] 观音 (Guăng-nĭng);
[6] 延平 (Iòng-bìng), the modern-day 南平 (Nàng-bìng).

The copyright of this article has expired.

Last updated: 2009/08/23