Chinese Diamonds for the King of Kings

Chinese Diamonds for the King of Kings
Author: Rosalind Goforth
Pages: 179,644 Pages
Audio Length: 2 hr 29 min
Languages: en

Summary

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SKETCH XI

Links in a Living Chain

Links in a Living Chain

A poor suffering woman lay in the ward of the Womens' Hospital at Changte.She had been there for over a month.Had she come earlier her life might have been saved, but ignorance and fear had kept her back till the terror of Death drove her to the Mission Hospital.

As the Missionary Doctor entered with her assistants the woman's face brightened up with a glad welcome smile.

"How much have you learnt to-day?"said the doctor bending over her kindly.

"Oh, doctor, I'm so stupid, and the pain is so bad I can't learn like the others. But oh, doctor, I have learnt this," and as she spoke she drew out from under the coverlet a sheet of paper on which was printed in large Chinese characters the hymn "Jesus Loves Me." And as she crooned over slowly the four verses making some slips the doctor listened patiently, correcting when needed. Then with a few tender words she passed on through the wards.

Not many days later, Mrs. Chang, the sick woman, had to be told nothing more could be done for her but she must return home to die.The long journey home over rough stony roads was borne with amazing fortitude, for had not her life been one long lesson in bearing hardness.For weeks she lay on the brick bed in her home at Linchang, a wonder to her family and neighbors.What was the secret of the change?She had left them with the horror and dread of death upon her face.She returned with her face shining with joy and openly stating she no longer feared death although she knew her days were few.She seemed happy and in peace.The hymn sheet was always in her hand and when asked why she was not afraid to die she would point silently to the second verse of the hymn and then chant aloud, trying to sing as she had heard others sing in the Hospital, but though the tune she sang could not have been recognized it sounded sweet in the ears of One who heard.Over and over that second verse was repeated for it contained that which was the Hope of her soul:

"Jesus loves me, He who died,
Heaven's gate to open wide,
He will wash away my sin,
Let His little child come in!"

Then the day came when according to Chinese custom neighbors and friends crowded into the chamber of death to see the end.As long as she had breath she urged her husband to go to the mission and learn the Gospel.She begged that none might go to her grave to weep, for she said, "I will not be there.I will be in Heaven."When the last moments came her face was illuminated with joy and she raised her hands as if to welcome someone as she passed away.

The effect of this deathbed scene was truly remarkable.Mr. Chang her husband, her only son and daughter and son's wife immediately became Christians.A quarrel which had separated Mr. Chang and his eldest brother for ten years was made up and this brother became an earnest Christian.Only a few months passed when a time of severe testing came to this family.The son's wife was taken ill and died.During her illness and at her death she witnessed as wonderful testimony to the Christian's hope as her mother-in-law.

The neighbors on the east side of the Chang's homestead were a large influential family named Fan.The younger Mrs. Chang's death-bed scene so touched one of the young men of this family that he determined to break away from the heathenism of his home and become a follower of Christ.His soul became so on fire for the Lord that he influenced many in his family until they were on the point of turning away from their heathenism.It was at this juncture that my husband and I began an aggressive evangelistic campaign in this town near their home, and great hopes were felt that the entire family would become Christian, when as in the case of Dr. Dwan (see "As Silver Is Refined") a series of events so terrorized the family that for over a year they refused to believe but that the gods were fighting against them for changing their belief.And is it any wonder?Almost immediately after young Mr. Fan became a Christian one calamity after another came upon the family till the climax was reached when one of the younger sons, about fourteen years old, went to visit a relative some ten miles distant.He never reached their home, but disappeared and was never heard of again.A little later another son who had become a seeker after Christ went to the Mission Hall apparently well was taken suddenly ill and before even a neighbor could be called passed away.

But in spite of these things, which to the heathen people of Linchang were certain proofs of the power of the gods to take revenge, young Mr. Fan stood true and within a year had won back several of his family.From this time the church grew in Linchang.Within a few years a nice Christian church and school house was erected by the Christians within sight of the Fans' home, the evangelist in charge also being supported by themselves.

Some years later it was the writer's privilege to assist her husband in a series of special meetings held in this little Linchang church, which during the ten days of the "Mission" was filled to its utmost capacity.Not soon could one forget the scenes of those days when one after another consecrated himself afresh to the Lord.

Two cases stand out prominently.One was that of a wealthy landowner who also was partner in a prominent business concern in Linchang.At considerable financial loss to himself he gave up this business to become a preacher of the Gospel.The second case was that of a proud Confucian scholar who at that time held a position of head teacher in a government school.He also caught the vision which forced him to resign his position in order to preach the Gospel.

Many times during those days as I witnessed the Holy Spirit working in the hearts of these men and women and saw signs of the light of the Gospel beginning to spread throughout that whole region I thought of that first little seed of truth sown in the heart of the poor suffering woman as she lay in the women's hospital in Changte.

SKETCH XII

Our First Woman Convert

Our First Woman Convert

A Mere Memory.

The following is but a brief memory of the long gone past.Even the name of the woman is forgotten but not the look on her pale patient face as she lay for weeks in the Mission Hospital—our first woman in-patient.Though almost thirty years have come and gone since those earliest days in North Honan the memory of this woman remains as one of the very few bright gleams in what was to us pioneer missionaries a time of darkness and peril.

The people were still bitter against us though a year had passed since a foothold had been gained in what we had so long looked forward to as our "Promised Land."Stories of the vilest nature widely circulated and believed did much to hinder the progress of the Gospel, and make the people fear and hate us.They believed we were capable of the very worst atrocities.Were I to attempt the plain record of many of these stories British law would forbid the publication.

It is little wonder, therefore, that our good doctor, a man of exceptional ability who had left brilliant prospects behind to come to China, chafed under the petty cases which came to the Hospital, and had more than once openly expressed his wish for some "good cases" which would help to open the people's hearts towards us. Before long his wish was abundantly gratified for three years later that hospital recorded twenty-eight thousand treatments in one year, a goodly proportion being "good" cases.

The beginning of the breaking of the ice of prejudice came when one day a man wheeled into the hospital yard a barrow on which lay his sick wife.He seemed very loath to come but his poor wife appeared past feeling.It was most evident that only the hope of relief from otherwise certain death could have induced them to risk coming for help to the foreign doctor.

A little later the doctor announced a serious operation imperative.To this the woman gave her consent but the man hesitated.How impossible it is for those brought up in a Western land to form any conception of the struggle the man went through in face of such a sweeping away of life-long prejudices, but at last in face of that great enemy, Death, he yielded.

Oh, how we prayed for that case!There we were, a mere handful of missionaries in the midst of a bitterly hostile people many of whom were only waiting and watching for an excuse to attack and murder us.Should the operation prove fatal and the woman die under the doctor's knife it would have been quite sufficient to stir up a mob which would in all probability have destroyed us all.But the operation passed safely and during the weeks of convalescence the doctor's wife told into willing ears the message of a Saviour who died to "open Heaven's door."From the first the woman showed a wonderful keenness in learning the truth.While still unable to sit upright and scarcely strong enough to hold her book she studied almost constantly the simple Christian Catechism.

One day to my great surprise as I responded to a timid tap at my door, I found this dear woman shrinking and uncertain as to whether she would be admitted, and almost fainting from weakness.I led her gently in and as she lay on the sofa we talked together of the blessed Saviour.After all these years the joy I felt, in speaking of the precious truths to this first Christian Woman of North Honan, still remains.She seemed even then to have her thoughts turned toward Eternity for she loved to have me dwell on the Heavenly Home, and the hymn she loved best was:

"My home is in Heaven, my home is not here."

Soon her visits became quite regular and as she lay on the lounge listening and asking questions she was not the only one who was learning for many were the lessons she unconsciously taught me of fortitude under suffering, and the simpleness of childlike trust.It seemed at times as if every separate fruit of the Spirit in that glorious cluster could be seen in this very babe in Christ.Love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, faith, meekness, all just shone from her countenance.One day shortly before her return home she asked a question concerning the Holy Spirit which showed what wonderful progress she had made in spiritual understanding.

Although she left us apparently cured, a few months saw her back again for treatment.It was then she was received as our first Probationer for Baptism but long before the year of probation had ended she had passed away in certain hope of entering into the Presence of her Saviour.

SKETCH XIII

Two "Rice" Christians

Part 1—THE "WOLF BOY."
Part 2—
THE "WOLF BOY'S" MOTHER

Two "Rice" Christians

Part I.THE "WOLF BOY."

As one travels Westward from the city of Changte, the country becomes more and more mountainous and rocky.Villages throughout that region are frequently troubled, during the cold winter season, by wolves, desperate with hunger venturing into the village streets injuring and sometimes carrying off children.

During the winter of —— a lad about fourteen years of age, named Cheng (surname) Woo-tse (given name), left his home near Changte to visit an aunt living in a village ten miles west of that city.One day, as the lad was going on a message, a great wolf rushed down the village street, and, before he could be driven away, jumped upon the boy clawing and eating part of his face.

For months the ignorant villagers did what they could to relieve the poor boy's terrible sufferings; but, alas, those who are at all acquainted with Chinese methods of treatment know how worse than useless such attempts would be.Only when it became apparent the boy would die were the people willing for him to be taken to the Mission Hospital.

Naturally this most unusual case aroused great interest; all came to know of the "Wolf Boy" as he was called.For almost a year he remained in hospital, carefully and tenderly nursed by his mother; her devotion to her boy being most noticeable.

The doctor and his assistants set themselves to do their utmost for what they felt was one of the most difficult cases that had ever been in the hospital.The doctor sought to give the boy, as far as it was possible, a new face; but, after months of careful treatment and clever grafting, he was only partly successful.He succeeded in saving the sight of one eye and in forming practically a new mouth.But after the doctor had done all it was possible to do the boy still remained such a horrible sight he was forced to wear a mask.

While in the hospital all those months this poor torn lad won the hearts of all by his gratitude for every kindness, his cheerfulness and patience under great suffering, and his simple loving nature.The kindness shown them opened the hearts of both mother and son to the Gospel message and both became Christians.It was the boy, however, who received the story of the Saviour's Sacrifice with real joy.What it meant to him came out one evening at the weekly prayer-meeting.

The little group of Christians gathered were startled and deeply touched when the "Wolf Boy" suddenly began to pray; his face was so bound as to make speech difficult but this is what he said:

"O Lord!I thank Thee for letting the wolf eat my face, for if he had not I might never have heard of this wonderful Saviour."

When at last the time came for the boy and his mother to leave the hospital, the missionaries felt it would be heartless to turn the boy adrift to the "tender mercies of the heathen," so gave him the situation of water-carrier for their yard.Here he lived and worked amongst us for some years.

The writer can never forget this boy's sympathy and sorrow when one of the little foreign children, whom he looked upon as his friends, became sick unto death.Outside the sick child's door he waited and waited every moment he could spare from his work, hoping and praying for the word of hope that was not to come.When, at last, he was told the precious spirit was no longer with us, his grief was most touching.

Four years later the boy left us to take a situation at an adjoining mission station.Near this mission a river, wide and deep, flowed.It was here the wolf boy met his death.When bathing with some other lads he was carried out of his depth and drowned.

*      *      *

Many years have passed since this humble servant died, but there still remains in many a heart a warm remembrance of the lad, so physically hampered, but through whom the Christ-life shone so brightly as to make him a blessing and an example to those who knew him.

Part II.THE "WOLF BOY'S" MOTHER.

"Faithful in that which is least."

The following brief sketch is a true and grateful tribute to the faithfulness of one who has been to the writer one of the greatest blessings a mother, with little children, could have—a faithful, devoted nurse.

As I write there comes before me a vivid picture of the scene in the hospital ward where I first saw Mrs. Cheng.On the wide brick platform or bed, which reached across one end of the room from wall to wall, were stretched a number of patients, each one on their own thin mattress or bedding, and each attended by their own friends; foreign nurses being unknown in China then.In the further corner of this "kang" or general bed, Mrs. Cheng bent over her poor mangled son, whose face was completely hidden by bandages.

On that first visit I remember being much impressed with the mother's soft voice and quiet dignified manner, and with her extreme gentleness in tending her child.Each subsequent visit increased the desire to secure this woman as a nurse for my children.Soon the opportunity came.

Mrs. Cheng soon found that months instead of days or weeks must elapse, before her child could leave the hospital.The question as to how she could support herself and her son while in the hospital became a serious one; she, therefore, gladly accepted my offer to meet their expenses in return for her help some hours each day with the children.By the time the doctor had pronounced the "Wolf Boy" ready to leave the hospital, Mrs. Cheng had proved herself such a blessing and "treasure" in our home that a warm welcome awaited her from the children as well as their mother and she was installed as their permanent nurse.

Less than one year after Mrs. Cheng came to us, that terrible cataclysm of horror—the Boxer uprising—took place, and we were all ordered to flee. With four small children the thought of that long cart journey without Mrs. Cheng was appalling; but would she come? Her boy still needed her to dress his face, and her old mother, of almost eighty, to whom she was greatly devoted, looked constantly to her for help. We laid our need before her and for one day she hesitated, going about the house as if dazed. At evening she came with tears, saying, "Shepherd Mother, I must go with you. My old mother weeps but tells me to go. My boy needs me, but he, too, says I must go, for the children need me most."

Days and weeks of terrible experiences followed, during which Mrs. Cheng proved herself a blessing to the sorely tried mother.Again and again she was tested as few have ever been; how she stood the tests we shall see.

The story of that journey has already been written, and only what specially concerns Mrs. Cheng will here be mentioned.

On the eleventh day of the journey a band of armed men came down upon our party like an avalanche, and in the melee Mrs. Cheng and our little daughter, Ruth, became separated from us.Can we ever forget, how, when men stood over the faithful nurse demanding the child, she refused to give her up, but lay upon the little one, and took blow after blow upon her own body?Only the greed for loot saved them, for the men seeing others getting our things left them to get their share.

That same night when again our party was facing what seemed almost certain massacre, several Chinese came to Mrs. Cheng urging her to leave us, promising to see that she would be taken safely back to her home if she would, but she refused.

About 2 o'clock that morning I heard the sound of weeping in the courtyard; going out I found Mrs. Cheng sitting by the steps weeping bitterly, and moaning aloud:

"I must go, I must go; they need me, even if they kill me I will go."Sitting down beside her we clung in our distress to each other.Then a strange thing happened.Two Chinese women came creeping towards us through the dark court, and kneeling down at our feet took our hands in theirs.Almost too surprised for words I said:

"Are you Christians?"

"We don't understand," they replied.

"Then why have you come to us now?"

"Because our hearts feel sorrow for you."These words but imperfectly convey the beautiful and touching sympathy of these heathen women, for as they spoke, tears were in their eyes, and their look and manner meant more than words.Before I had time to say more than a few words to them the call came to get into our carts.

Once, during the wonderful day of deliverances that followed, the cry was raised by the mob that surrounded our carts:

"Get the nurse out, drag her out, we will have her!"And for a few terrible moments it seemed we would lose her, but God in His great mercy heard the cry that went up for her.A man came through the crowd, evidently one of some influence, and shouted: "Don't touch her, leave her alone; don't you see there are children and they need her?"So we were allowed to pass on.

In those terrible days that followed, when almost starved, when sickness came to first one and then another, when all were exhausted and tried to the lost point of endurance, Mrs. Cheng thought not for one moment of herself, but only for those she served.During all those hard, hard days not a word of complaint or of her own sufferings escaped her.

Almost a month from the time we left our home we reached Shanghai and here we had to part with our faithful helper.It was arranged that Mrs. Cheng should go to a friend of ours in Chefoo till the troubles were over, and we return to the Homeland.

Last words of farewell were being said at Mrs. Cheng's cabin door, as her steamer was about to leave.The dear woman clung to me unwilling to part and her last words were:

"Oh, my Shepherd Mother, do take good care of the children!"So smiles were mixed with tears as we parted.

*      *      *

Two years passed.Conditions were once more becoming normal, or nearly so.Missionaries were returning to their various stations, but could we, who had been through that Baptism of Blood, ever be just the same as before?We had been spared for further service, while others had been TRANSLATED.Surely we had been saved to serve as never before.A new and difficult life was entered upon—the opening of new out-stations, the breaking of new ground.All through the years of that life when traveling constantly from place to place, Mrs. Cheng was a patient and willing sharer in all the hardness and a never failing source of comfort to me.Never once in all those years, that I can recall, did this woman ever get really angry or even out of temper with the children, and it was a life that tried temper and patience to the utmost.

The years have passed on and with them the little children from our care, but Mrs. Cheng remains. Although sixty years of age she appears in some things to be renewing her youth! During the recent war, when we women were trying to do our "bit" through the Red Cross, Mrs. Cheng came to me one day and begged me to allow her to take my place at the sewing machine. At first I refused, but finally let her try but with some fear lest she break the needle. To my great surprise she was soon able to go on with the Red Cross work quite alone; indeed she came to make the soldiers' garments so well as to call forth special praise from the Red Cross Headquarters. This greatly surprised me, for I could never get her to attempt to learn the machine when the children were small. One day I asked her why this was so, and her reply was:

"Then I could not learn because the children filled my heart, now, my Shepherd Mother, it is empty!"

Let us take, in closing, a peep into Mrs. Cheng's own home.At break of dawn on New Year's morning, 1918, Mrs. Cheng, her only remaining son and his wife, and their three children, were busily engaged preparing their New Year's feast, which consisted of dozens (amounting probably to hundreds) of tiny meat dumplings, each one just large enough for one (?)luscious, mouthful.(These dumplings are to the Chinese at the New Year season what turkey and plum pudding are to the Westerner.)

When all was ready, even the pot or rather large caldron, at boiling point awaiting the precious dumplings, Mrs. Cheng gathered her household around her and together they knelt and worshipped the Christian's God.Heathen neighbors gathered about the open doorway and watched, in wondering but respectful silence, the kneeling group, and listened to their hymn of praise.Worship over, while the rest dropped dumplings into the bubbling water, Mrs. Cheng preached to the curious and questioning neighbors.Telling me of it afterwards she said,—"Of course, I could not preach, but I just told them what I knew of the Lord Jesus."

Oh, that all God's more favored children in every land would do just THAT.

SKETCH XIV

Daybreak in One Home

Part 1—LITTLE SLAVE.
Part 2—
SLAVE'S FATHER.
Part 3—
SLAVE'S RELEASE

Daybreak in One Home

Part I.LITTLE SLAVE.

One of the most wonderful things about this wonderful old land of China, is the number, size and length of her great waterways.Millions of her people live, yes and die, on the large and small craft (chiefly the latter) which ply up and down these great streams.

Twenty-five days' hauling up one of these rivers from the Port of Tientsin, brings us to the town of Swinsen.There can be little doubt but that this place dates far back, for not far distant can be still seen the ruins of what was once—three thousand five hundred years ago, or before Moses led the Children of Israel out of Egypt,—the flourishing capitol of the Kingdom of China.

The Wang family, for many generations, had made their home in this curious old town of Swinsen.To trace the history of one section of this family, as I think you would like to hear it, we shall have to go back forty years.Could we about that time, have taken a peep through one of the gateways on a narrow street of this town, we would have seen a strange sight.

Standing in the centre of the court, and surrounded by a rough mocking group, was a young girl.She was dressed in all the gaudy garments of an Eastern Bride, but her finery served only to show forth the more conspicuously how ungenerous Nature had been in the matter of good looks.Tall and very thin, with a slouchy uncertain manner which gave her loose ill-fitting garments the appearance of being made for another, and with deep smallpox marks covering her face, and only partially concealed by powder and paint, she certainly did not appear the beautiful bride they had been led to expect.

A storm of ridicule and scorn was kept up by the group surrounding her."Evidently," said one, "she has been brought up in a poorly-managed home or why have her feet been allowed to grow so large?"

"Were we not promised a beautiful, rich, clever, bride, with tiny feet?"said another.And the storm of abuse upon the innocent girl and absent "go-between" became so bitter as to make the poor creature shrink in terror.At last, like an animal brought to bay, she turned pleadingly towards a bright young man standing on the outskirts of the group, her bridegroom of a day, who till that moment seemed heartily to enjoy the fun of tormenting her.Catching her pleading terrified look he flushed as if with shame; then calling out sharply,—"Enough, enough!Let her alone.She is not to blame, and, anyway, she is here to stay."With this he gave her a not ungentle push towards the door of their apartment, then hastened through the gate and disappeared down the street.

As is the custom in China the Wang household was ruled with a rod of iron by the old grandmother.And the old lady certainly had her hands full for there were four sons, and four daughters-in-law, also numerous grandchildren.The new daughter-in-law was no favorite with her, and young Mrs. Wang, as we shall call her, had a hard and bitter life.All the women of the family joined in making her the drudge.One would have to understand heathenism and the conditions of a heathen home to fully comprehend what refinement of cruelty and meanness can be exercised by women under like circumstances.Again and again Mrs. Wang was tempted, as she knew so many other brides had been, to end her wretchedness by jumping down the well or taking opium poison, but something seemed to keep her from this awful deed.

One day there arrived to comfort the poor girl's heart a tiny stranger. Because it was a girl the other members of the family took no interest in its arrival, but the mother's heart, crushed and starved for so long, went out to her little daughter. She thought long for a beautiful name for her, and at last decided to call her "Lily Blossom." But when the old grandmother heard of her choice of a name she was furious, and asserted her authority in no uncertain manner, declaring, "No girl in my family will ever receive such a name. Why! it is just tempting the fairies to send us only girlsHer name is to be SLAVE."And Slave she was called.

The child grew up pretty and attractive, surprisingly so considering the coarse and unattractive surroundings in which she lived.She was her mother's constant companion, and even when very young would try to shield her mother from the blows often showered upon her.

When Slave reached her sixth birthday preparations were made to have her feet bound.Three or four women were needed for the performance.One to hold the child, a second to bandage, and one or two more to pull the bandages.A veil must be drawn over one terrible hour.Then we see her rolling from side to side on the large brick bed in a state of semi-consciousness.Her shrieks and cries had become reduced to low moans.

At last her mother in pity offered to loosen the bandages, but little Slave pushed her away with all her remaining strength, saying, "No, no, I want my feet small, I must have my feet small."And the mother knowing well the bitterness and cruelty she had suffered because of her own feet being allowed to grow to almost natural size, yielded.

For months Slave was practically a cripple, then gradually she learned to balance herself on her crushed and broken stumps of feet.Later the child's delight knew no bounds, for everywhere she went her tiny feet, clothed in beautiful embroidered shoes, attracted the admiration of all.

*      *      *

Seven years have passed and we now find Slave a beautiful girl of thirteen.Her beauty had been much talked of, and great expectations were indulged in regarding her marriage.The child outwardly seemed to take more interest in making her pretty shoes than in these discussions regarding her future "Mother-in-law's home," but in reality she was a keen and interested listener to all that was said on the subject.

More than one "go-between" had visited the home for the purpose of arranging a match with Slave, but the family knew her market value and were hard to please.At last a woman came from whom Slave instinctively shrank.Yet it was she who succeeded in satisfying the demands of the family.This woman stated positively that the "Mother-in-law's home," for whom she was the middle-woman, was all that could be desired.They owned considerable property, and were the chief family of their village.As to the man himself, why he was all a girl could wish for or be proud to call a husband,—young, handsome, clever, and so on.

The outcome of it all was the usual gifts were exchanged and Slave's fate was sealed for life.

Two short years passed then word was received from Slave's mother-in-law's home that the wedding must take place on a certain date in the near future.During the busy days of preparation that followed, Slave's heart palpitated many times as with mixed feelings she thought of the future.Then alas, all too soon the eventful day arrived, when two Sedan chairs were set down at the Wang's gateway.The one containing the waiting bridegroom, was handsomely decorated in blue and silver, but the bride's chair was even more gorgeous in its trappings of gold and crimson.

When the time came for farewell, tears of real sorrow were shed, but little Slave's heart was too full of the handsome young bridegroom to permit such sad feelings remaining long.No sooner was she safely behind the curtains of her chair than she arranged with utmost care, her veil and ornaments, seeking meanwhile to get a glimpse of the one who was to be hers for life.Often had she pictured to herself the "handsome young man" described by the "go-between," and it was with only joyous anticipation that she thought of the future.No response, however, came from the other chair.

The journey was soon over, and as they approached her future home Slave became increasingly nervous and shy.She could easily have caught a glimpse of her bridegroom's face through her veil as they alighted from their chairs, but her eyes seemed glued to the ground.She felt herself led through the crowd of noisy spectators, and was conscious that he was beside her.Together, side by side, they knelt before the household gods.But it was not till she had been led to the bridal chamber and seated on the brick platform or bed, with her garments arranged to the best advantage, that the crowd was admitted and her veil was raised.

A low murmur arose at the sight of her great beauty.Still little Slave's eyes would not rise.It was not till all had left and she was alone with her husband that her eyes rose with one swift glance.But, alas, poor child, it was not to see the bridegroom of her dreams, but instead she saw a man old enough to be her father,—a man with the marks of a debauched and wicked life plainly written on his countenance,—a typical opium slave; in other words a man only in name, rather a brute in human form!

As Slave caught sight of this man standing there, intoxicated with wine, and looking like a beast about to pounce upon its prey, the shock of disappointment was too great.Her face became deathly white, and with a piercing cry,—"My mother, oh my mother," she fell forward unconscious.

We must leave our little friend to enter the darkness alone, only one of multitudes in this dark heathen land of China whose innocence and happiness are year by year sacrificed to the greed of gain and cruel marriage customs of their own land.

We shall see later how the Light that can lighten the deepest darkness, came at last into little Slave's life, giving peace and hope.

Part II.SLAVE'S FATHER.

Slave was gone!As really lost to her parents as if she were dead.When the truth concerning the man she now belonged to for life became known, her mother wept long and bitterly, but there was no redress; they had to bear as others had borne, who had been deceived by an unprincipled "go-between."

Some months after Slave's marriage, there came to fill her place two fine twin boys.Mrs. Wang's day had dawned at last.The old grandmother could not do enough for her and the once despised and ill-treated drudge was waited on hand and foot by the other women, at the command of the old lady.

For three whole years this state of things lasted, then one day the grandmother announced her intention of making the two boys take the smallpox. (Many of the Chinese believed that children must have the smallpox when young or they will not grow up strong). The mother's heart sank as she thought of what the result might be. She ventured to protest but was silenced by a shower of blows. The grandmother took both of the fine healthy boys to a neighbor's house where they had smallpox, and kept them there a whole day to ensure them getting the disease. A week later both became ill.

We must draw a veil over the horror of the days that followed the agony of the mother, the despair of the father, the rage of the grandmother when she saw the children would die, and the ill-concealed malice of the other women.A few days passed when a little body, wrapped in a piece of old matting, was carried by the father to the children's pit outside the city.A little later this scene was repeated, and Mrs. Wang's day of happiness ended.

The cruel death of their two beautiful boys was the beginning of dark days for our Mr. and Mrs. Wang. The old grandmother died shortly after from excess of rage. (The fits of rage to which women give way in China cannot easily be understood by the Westerner). It was in one of these attacks, caused no doubt by disappointment at the result of her treatment of her grandchildren, that the poor old autocrat collapsed and died. The day before the funeral was to take place the old husband was found dead in bed.

An expensive funeral and excessive feasting which followed and which custom required reduced the family to desperate financial straits.

The days following the funeral were tempestuous ones for the Wang household, and the "domestic typhoons," as they have been correctly described, were fiercer and more frequent than ever.At last the day came when the family mutually decided to separate, which they did in true Chinese fashion—each couple would be responsible for their own finances, but would continue to live as before "within the one gate."

This arrangement would have been favorable to our branch of the family had not Mr. Wang lost his situation as teacher almost immediately after the change.Then followed several moons (months) of fruitless search for employment.Everything that could be was sold or pawned to get food.

One day Mr. Wang's boatman brother returned from the coast.He told them of a man who had come up on their boat who was looking for a teacher for a missionary living in an adjoining province, and he urged Mr. Wang to take this position.The women-folk, however, bitterly opposed saying, "If he once gets under the spell of the foreigner we shall never hear of him again."But they could not starve, and when it was learned the salary would be considerably more than what he had been getting even the women yielded.

Mr. Wang was himself only half inclined to go, for he could not get out of his mind the remembrance of stories he had heard of wholesale poisoning carried on by the missionaries.

Shortly after his departure a little girl came to comfort Mrs. Wang in her loneliness.Now that she was her own mistress, she chose a pretty name for the child, little dreaming what a beautiful herald it was of the brighter day so soon to dawn, she called it Spring!

One morning when little Spring was just three weeks old, the Wang family received a great surprise.They were all seated at their own doorsteps or squatting around the court, each with a bowl of millet poised in one hand and a pair of chop sticks in the other, when the front gate opened and who should appear but Mr. Wang.It was as if a bomb had fallen!In a few moments the court was crowded with curious neighbors, all eager to hear the reason for his return.

The truth in brief was that he had reached the Mission Compound safely, had been well received by the other Chinese teachers, had been in the missionary's home and had taught him and his wife for one day, but that night had been seized with sudden panic lest he get under the spell of the missionaries, and had gathered up his belongings and when all were asleep had quietly slipped away.This, however, was not just how Mr. Wang told it to the waiting crowd.He found it necessary to add a good many embellishments to make it a less humiliating story than it would otherwise have been, and these additions were not always favorable to the foreigners.

The family had to face the fact that there were three "mouths to fill" and some work must be got, but weeks of searching resulted as before in failure.Our friends would certainly have starved had not other members of the family given, sometimes almost thrown, food to them.At last in sheer despair Mr. Wang accepted a position in the Yamen (City Hall) for just his food.Thus Mrs. Wang was left to battle with her little babe alone.The cold pitiless winter faced her and bitter indeed did she find the struggle for existence.To earn even three and a half cents a day, she was obliged to sit at her spinning wheel far into the night, with her babe inside her wadded garment to keep it warm.

*      *      *

During those long winter months Mr. Wang sat at his desk in the Yamen the face of the missionary seemed to come before him vividly—so kind, so true, so different from any face he had ever seen before.

Gradually he came to the point of resolving that had he another chance he would return to the missionary.The opportunity was nearer than he imagined.

While at his work one morning he heard an unusual commotion outside.Stepping to the front gate he found a great crowd hurrying towards the river.A man shouted to him, "Two foreign demons are coming up the river.Come and see the fun."

Without so much as a thought for his work awaiting him, Mr. Wang caught up his teacher's long gown to accelerate speed, and before the man ceased speaking had started to run with the others.His behaviour on this occasion at least was quite unworthy of a proud Confucian scholar, all of whom pride themselves on imitating the sage in never making haste under any circumstances.

Just as the tiny house boat, with two foreign men standing on its deck, came in sight, Mr. Wang reached the river bank. Had he tried he would have found it difficult to say why he trembled so. He was only conscious of an intense desire that one of these men might be his foreigner. At last as he recognized the missionary he had taught for a day, he could scarcely repress a cry of joy, or wait till the boat was drawn up to where he stood. Then, not waiting for the plank to be put down, he leaped on board and faced the astonished missionary, who looked his amazement as he recognized him.

Before the other could find words, Mr. Wang, making a low bow hurriedly asked forgiveness in a few humble words.He ended by saying, "I know, sir, you are not what people say you are.I was wrong, forgive me.If you will take me back I will be glad to teach you."

While he was speaking the missionary's face was a study—surprise, annoyance, relief, pleasure—all came in turn.The missionary, who could now speak the Chinese language a little, laid Ids hand kindly on the young man's shoulder and said:

"Not a word more, Mr. Wang.I am in need of a teacher so you may consider yourself engaged, but you must be ready to start back with us three days from now."

The poor fellow looked his gratitude but could find no words.As he turned to leave the missionary called him back and said in a low voice as he handed him some money, "Take this, you have a wife and she must be provided for, we will reckon later."This thoughtful act completed the capture of Mr. Wang's heart.From that moment he became the devoted follower of the missionary although as yet he knew nothing of his message.

Three days later found Mr. Wang settled in his little "tsang" or cabin on the missionary's houseboat.Next to his was the larger cabin occupied by the two missionaries as sleeping and living apartment.A partition of open woodwork covered with paper separated the two cabins.Mr. Wang had not been in his compartment very long before he had, in true Chinese fashion, by moistening the tip of his finger and applying it to the paper partition, made a hole sufficiently large to enable him to watch all that passed in the adjoining cabin without himself being seen.Day by day he spent every moment he could get at his self made vantage ground.How those men puzzled him!As he noticed how quiet and orderly, and above all how strangely happy they were, without being boisterous, he became conscious of a growing sense of respect and admiration.Before they had reached their destination, the missionary's home, Mr. Wang had lost every trace of doubt or fear of the foreigners.

Mr. ——, the missionary, was a keen judge of character.His knowledge of human nature was gained in the slums of a so-called Christian city, and it was well for him that such experience had been gained before meeting the more complex problems of the Chinese character.As day by day the missionary studied with Mr. Wang he became more and more convinced that this man must meet Christ first in him, His representative, for he found him sharp, keen, critical, and alas, utterly untrustworthy.But the day came when Mr. Wang testified, when he was being received into the Church, "I learned first to love the Pastor, then to love his Saviour."

Part III—SLAVE'S RELEASE.

Six years have passed since Mr. Wang entered on his duties as teacher to the missionary.During all those years he had been an invaluable assistant to Mr. —— in the strenuous and difficult work of opening a new mission station at the large and important city of C——.The time had now come when it was thought best for Mr. Wang to bring his wife from their old home.A small cottage was secured just opposite the mission gate for them, and here a happier life began for Mrs. Wang than she had ever thought possible.

Mr. Wang, like so many Chinese Christian men, thought his wife too stupid to learn, and when she first came in touch with Mrs. ——, the missionary's wife, she was practically a heathen. As she came in with little Spring, now a bright little girl of nearly seven, the foreign woman could scarcely hide her disappointment when she saw Mrs. Wang, she was so extremely (shall I use the word) ugly, so untidy, slouchy, and even far from clean.Yet there was a look in those small deep set eyes which said plainly, "Yes, I know how different I am from you, but oh, I do want you to love me."And the other felt herself strangely drawn to her.Before long a deep and abiding affection sprang up between the two, so different, yet at heart one.

Many times in the lesson periods that followed Mrs. —— was tempted to give up in despair, Mrs. Wang was so slow to learn.One day after a particularly discouraging time of study, Mrs. Wang turned to her teacher and said, "Teacher Mother, do not be discouraged because my mind is like a sieve, for my heart has Jesus there."

The evidence of the new life within soon began to be seen in the changed, happier, more restful face, and in the cleaner, tidier garments.Willingly she allowed little Spring's feet to remain unbound, which meant much at that time when women and girls with unbound feet were unknown.

Although Spring had not the beauty of her older sister, Slave, she was bright, quick, in her ways like her father, and most affectionate.From the first contact with the missionaries the child's heart seemed open to the Gospel, she came soon to show a love for the Saviour unusual in one so young.The greatest treat little Spring could have in those early days was to be allowed to play with the gentle fair-haired foreign child of her own age.

One day the two children wandered outside the backgate into the fields beyond.Suddenly they came upon some dogs devouring the body of a little child.Spring, to whom such a scene was not unknown, looked on unmoved, but the tenderly guarded foreign child gazed in speechless horror, then screaming loudly ran towards home.Her mother, anxious at her disappearance, had just reached the gate when the child appeared almost frantic with terror and shock.A word was sufficient for the mother to learn the cause of the trouble."Oh, Mother!"cried the child, sobbing on her mother's breast, "I see it now, a dear little baby.Oh, mother, mother, those terrible dogs.I can never forget it."

That night the mother knelt long beside her child's bedside.Other little ones had come and gone.This child seemed like a delicate lily, too sensitive and high strung for such a land as China, where outside the Mission Compound one could never tell when one would come upon a scene that might hurt and shock.

Some time later the child was taken ill.There was no doctor near and once more the parents went down into the Valley of the shadow of death with a precious child.Meningitis developed.Spring and her mother watched and waited outside the child's sick door for some word of hope.But after days of great suffering the little one was taken to where there will be "no more pain, neither sorrow nor crying."

A day later missionaries and Christians gathered about the open grave beside which rested the little coffin almost covered with beautiful flowers.It was then that Mrs. Wang recalled the cruel death of her two boys and what had been done with their little bodies.The contrast was indeed great: here were every token of love and honor for the precious remains; but what moved Mrs. Wang end went to her heart was the look of Hope written on the mother's face as they all sang together—

"Little children, little children.
Who love their Redeemer
Are the jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own.
 
"Like the stars of the morning
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in His beauty
His loved and His own."
 

As these words sank deep into Mrs. Wang's very soul, there came a great yearning that her own people might hear of this Gospel that gives a soul a hope after death.

*      *      *

Sometime after her little friend's death, Spring entered the mission school for girls, the first girls' school to be opened in that part of China.Year by year as they passed, Spring grew in the love and esteem of her teachers.Her bright, happy ways and true Christian character endeared her to all.But the one Spring loved most of all was the mother of the friend she never forgot.On one occasion when the writer was home on furlough, she received the following letter from Spring: "Dear Teacher Mother, Come back very soon.As one who is hungry longs for food and one who is thirsty for drink, so my heart longs for you!"

When fifteen years of age Spring graduated with such distinction that she was sent to the advanced school for girls in Peking.Upon her return she became assistant teacher in the Mission Girls' School.

About this time Mrs. Wang's health broke down.A little daughter had come whom they named "Brightness."Through all the months of weakness and failing health, the poor suffering woman showed forth a true spirit of patience and resignation.One day an urgent call came for the missionary's wife to go and see the sick woman.Hastening to the little cottage across the way, she found the court empty so entered the door unannounced, and passing through the outer room she lifted the curtain that served for door into the room where she could see dimly the form of her loved friend lying on the brick bed.

There was no mistaking the look which plainly told the last call had come to Mrs. Wang.Overcome with the shock of seeing the end so near, Mrs. —— sank down beside her friend and wept bitterly.Slowly the dying woman raised her hand and stroked the head of the weeping woman, and with difficulty said, "Don't grieve for me.There is much I want to say, but the time is too short.Listen!My child, my little Slave, does not know about the Saviour.Help Spring to go to her before it is too late."

There was a long silence broken only by suppressed weeping from Spring who was standing by.Then Mrs. Wang continued, "And you, my friend; thank you again for bringing this precious Saviour to even me.And you have helped me so much."

"No, no," said Mrs. —— unable to keep silence longer."It is you who have helped me.Your patience under trial has been a constant rebuke to me for my impatience."She could say no more for even while she was speaking the Glory of the unseen world seemed to shine on the dying woman's face.

*      *      *

Some months after her mother's death the way was opened for Spring to visit her father's old home.She had many times longed and prayed that she might fulfil her mother's dying request.With some difficulties Spring found where her sister lived and as she drew near the house her heart rose in earnest prayer for her sister's conversion.

An old woman responded to her knock at the gate, to whom Spring made herself known, then asked to see her sister.The old woman who turned out to be Slave's mother-in-law, directed her to the door of the room where we last parted with poor Slave—a broken-hearted bride.

Tapping gently on the door and receiving no answer, Spring entered.On the long brick bed at one end of the room lay her sister.The wasted frame and racking cough told all too plainly Slave's days on earth were few.As Spring stood looking at her sister for a moment, almost too overcome to speak, she thought of her mother's words, "before it is too late."

For three days Spring remained with her sister.Fortunately for them both Slave's husband was not at home, and the old mother-in-law left them alone only too glad to have someone to relieve her from waiting on the sick one.

When Spring described to her sister their mother's beautiful death, tears ran down Slave's cheeks as she said, "Oh, that I too could have such a hope!"

"You can, my sister," eagerly cried Spring."I have come as mother wished, to tell you how you can go to where she is."Then patiently and lovingly she opened up to her sister, step by step, the glorious Gospel of a Saviour from sin and a hope after death.Slave listened and drank in the message as one parched with thirst would drink from a living spring.

Once when the sisters were talking closely together, Slave suddenly broke into a passion of uncontrollable weeping.Then came little by little as she had strength to tell it, the story of those terrible years since she left her father's home.At last as if words failed her, she loosened her garment and revealed her shoulders and back covered with bruises and healed scars, silent witnesses to the cruelty of the past.

Gradually the Peace and Hope born of her new found faith came into Slave's poor starved soul.And as the sisters parted never as they knew well to meet again on earth, Slave said, "Yes, it is different now, I shall be in heaven before you.I have no more fear now.But pray for my husband."

*      *      *

There is a Love that longs with deep affection
To gather all the sinsick sons of men
Beneath its wings of shelter and protection,
And give them health again.
It is the love of Jesus, sweet with longing,
His full salvation to the world to give,
Crying to all the dead, earth's highways thronging,
"Come unto Me, come unto Me, and live."
By Annie Johnson Flint
 
Copyright, Evangelical Publishers.

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHINESE DIAMONDS FOR THE KING OF KINGS ***