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  HUDSON TAYLOR'S SPIRITUAL SECRETS
  by Hudson Taylor
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An account of Hudson Taylor's spiritual development and missionary experience in
China, highlighting the lessons of faith learned through financial hardships and
the challenges of pioneer missionary work. The book reveals the interior
spiritual life that sustained one of the greatest missionaries of the modern
era.

  Chapters: 6

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS
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    0. Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secrets
    1. Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secrets #1
    2. Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secrets #2
    3. Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secrets #3
    4. Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secrets #4
    5. Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secrets #5

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  CHAPTER 0: HUDSON TAYLOR'S SPIRITUAL SECRETS
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  CHAPTER 1: HUDSON TAYLOR'S SPIRITUAL SECRETS #1
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When the China Inland Mission withdrew from China in 1951 and started work in
other Asian countries, its name was changed to the Overseas Missionary
Fellowship. Together with many other like-minded mission groups, OMF seeks to
witness to the truth so clearly established in this story of Hudson Taylor's
life. God's work, done in God's way, will never lack God's supplies.

In our day, when the world closely and curiously watches every political and
military development in the great country of China, this is the story of one
Westerner who not only understood China, but changed its history. Millions of
Christians in China today can trace their spiritual lineage to the life and work
of Hudson Taylor. In a day when the spiritual, moral, and financial failures of
some of our culture's most visible Christian leaders have embarrassed the Church
and damaged the cause of faith, Hudson Taylor's story provides a startling,
refreshing, and inspiring contrast.

For it is the story of a Christian giant who led by serving, who diligently,
carefully, protected his integrity, who constantly, purposefully avoided
personal material gain, and who refused even to take offerings in meetings where
he spoke about his work because he wanted to depend entirely on God's provision
for both his personal needs and the needs of his ministry. In a day when
Christian missionary organizations around the world are striving for
nationalization of their work, this is the story of a man whose mission
organization held those goals more than a century ago. In a day when much of the
Christian Church still debates the role of women in spiritual leadership, this
is the story of a man who so respected the strength, potential, leadership, and
faith of women that he ignored the conventions of his time to give unprecedented
responsibilities and opportunities to the women of his mission.

This is the story of a man who understood the basic principles of cross-cultural
communications a century before our communication experts even began using the
term. This is also a story of a man in a formal, unemotional age who managed to
be a romantic lover and an affectionate father. It's the story of a man who
witnessed firsthand and battled against the major crisis of drug addiction and
homelessness.

It's the story of a man who experienced the frustration of physical suffering
and wrestled with the pain of personal grief. It's a story of one man who
discovered a faith and a secret that enabled him to accomplish the impossible.
Could Hudson Taylor's story be relevant to readers today? I decided that it was.

More than a century before Richard Nixon reestablished diplomatic ties between
the United States and China and opened up Communist China to the Western world,
a young Britisher landed in Shanghai. Barely 20 years of age, he had no
university degree. He was sent by no government official.

He arrived unexpected and unannounced. No one came to meet his ship. No one in
China even knew his name.

But Hudson Taylor was the man who opened the great country of China to the
Western world for the first time. And the legacy of his life and work continues
today in the lives of millions of people throughout China and around the world.
Hudson Taylor was not some holy hermit.

He was a successful professional, a family man. He was a man of common sense,
living a life of constant change in the company of many interesting and varied
people. He wasn't an imposing man at all, small in stature and far from strong.

He had to live with physical limitations. Next to a loving Christian family, the
only real advantage he had in his early years was the experience he gained from
supporting himself from the time he was about 16. He was a hard worker, a
trained medical assistant.

He was able to care for a baby, cook a dinner, keep accounts, and comfort the
sick and sorrowing. Yet he was also an innovative leader, an organizer, and a
skillful delegator who provided spiritual leadership and inspiration to
thoughtful men and women the world over. Above all, he determined to test the
promises of God.

In doing so, he overcame difficulties few men have ever had to encounter. His
life work changed the world he lived in and has had an impact on millions of
people. What was the secret of Hudson Taylor's life? What was it that enabled
one man to make such a great and lasting impact? That's what we're going to
discover in the pages that follow.

Chapter 1. The year is 1832 to 1850. James Hudson Taylor never appeared to be an
exceptional child. Though his father had the education requirements to be a
pharmacist, Hudson's parents decided not to send him to school until he was 11.

While he was a sickly child, missing at least one day of school almost every
week because of illness, he quickly learned to read and showed a proficiency in
math. But at the age of 13, after just two years of formal schooling, Hudson
gave it up to help in his father's shop in the town of Barnsley in Yorkshire,
England. Born in 1832 to devoutly religious parents, Hudson heard early and
often the gospel story of Jesus, the only son of God, who came to earth and died
so that people's sins could be forgiven.

And with a childlike faith, the young boy accepted what his parents taught him
simply because they believed it. As a teenager, however, Hudson began to
question the reality of the Bible. And when at the age of 15, he took a junior
clerk position in a local bank and became exposed for the first time to the
influence and opinions of older and more skeptical friends, Hudson abandoned the
Christian faith and the teaching of his family.

Even after eye strain forced him to give up accounting and he again began
working with his father, his doubts about Christianity continued. Though he
wasn't outwardly rebellious, his parents recognized his spiritual struggle and
worried about their son. Then, at age 17, something happened.

Hudson later recorded the events of that day. On a day I can never forget, my
dear mother being absent from home, visiting relatives some distance away, I had
a holiday and in the afternoon looked through my father's library to find some
book with which to while away the unoccupied hours. Nothing attracted me.

I turned over a basket of pamphlets and selected from amongst them a gospel
tract that looked interesting, saying to myself, there will be a story at the
commencement and a sermon or moral at the close. I will take the former and
leave the latter for those who like it. I sat down to read the book in an
utterly unconcerned state of mind, believing indeed at the time that if there
were any salvation it was not for me, and with distinct intention to put away
the tract as soon as it should become prosy.

I may say that it was not uncommon in those days to call conversion becoming
serious and judging by the faces of some of its professors it appeared to be a
very serious matter indeed. Would it not be well if the people of God had always
tell-tale faces, evincing the blessing and gladness of salvation so clearly that
unconverted people might have to call conversion becoming joyful instead of
becoming serious? Little did I know at the time what was going on in the heart
of my dear mother, seventy or eighty miles away. She rose from the dinner table
that afternoon with an intense yearning for the conversion of her boy, and
feeling that, absent from home and having more leisure than she could otherwise
secure, a special opportunity was afforded her of pleading with God on my
behalf.

She went to her room and turned the key in the door, resolved not to leave that
spot until her prayers were answered. Hour after hour that dear mother pleaded
until at length she could pray no longer. Dear mother pleaded until at length
she could pray no longer, but was constrained to praise God for that which His
Spirit taught her had already been accomplished, the conversion of her only son.

I, in the meantime, had been led in the way I have mentioned to take up this
little track, and while reading it was struck with the phrase the finished work
of Christ. Why did the author use this expression? Immediately the words, It is
finished, suggested themselves to my mind. What was finished? And I at once
replied, a full and perfect atonement for sin.

The debt was paid for our sins, and not ours only, but also the sins of the
whole world. Then came the further thought, if the whole work was finished and
the whole debt paid, what is there left for me to do? And with this dawned the
joyful conviction, as light was flashed into my soul by the Holy Spirit, that
there was nothing in the world to be done but to fall down on one's knees and
accept this Savior and His salvation. When mother returned a fortnight later, I
was first to meet her at the door and to tell her I had such glad news to give.

I can almost feel that dear mother's arms around my neck as she pressed me to
her heart and said, I know, my boy. I've been rejoicing for a fortnight in the
glad tidings you have to tell, and went on to tell the incident mentioned above.
You will agree with me that it would be strange indeed if I were not a believer
in the power of prayer.

Nor was this all. Some time later, I picked up a pocketbook exactly like my own
and thinking it was mine, opened it. The lines that caught my eye were an entry
in a little diary belonging to my sister, who was four years younger, to the
effect that she would give herself daily to prayer until God should answer in
the conversion of her brother.

One month later, the Lord was pleased to turn me from darkness to light. Brought
up in such a circle and saved under such circumstances, it was perhaps natural
that from the commencement of my Christian life, I was led to feel that the
promises were very real and that prayer was a sober matter of fact transacting
business with God, whether on one's own behalf or on the behalf of those of whom
one sought his blessing. Without ever becoming the kind of serious Christian he
thought so appealing, Hudson tried never to take his faith lightly.

Like most young Christians, he would sometimes fall to temptation and feel
discouraged by his continuing weakness. But he never let himself feel satisfied
with an up and down spiritual life. He longed for a better, more complete
relationship with God.

And one particular afternoon, he began to pray about that longing. Well do I
remember how in the gladness of my heart, I poured out my soul before God, again
and again, confessing my grateful love to him who had done everything for me,
who had saved me when I had given up all hope and even desire for salvation. I
besought him to give me some work to do for him as an outlet for love and
gratitude.

Well do I remember as I put myself, my life, my friends, my all upon the altar,
the deep solemnity that came over my soul with the assurance that my offering
was accepted. The presence of God became unutterably real and blessed. And I
remember stretching myself on the ground and lying there before him with
unspeakable awe and unspeakable joy.

For what service I was accepted, I knew not. But a deep consciousness that I was
not my own took possession of me, which has never since been effaced. Though he
had committed his entire life to God, Husson continued to struggle with times of
failure and discouragement.

It was in one such experience of defeat and discouragement that he called out to
God for help. He so wanted to live a life pleasing to God in every way that he
felt he would go anywhere, do anything, suffer however the Lord asked, if only
God would give him the assurance of his clear direction. Never shall I forget,
he wrote long after, the feeling that came over me then.

Words could not describe it. I felt I was in the presence of God, entering into
a covenant with the Almighty. I felt as though I wished to withdraw my promise,
but could not.

Something seemed to say, your prayer is answered, your conditions are accepted.
And from that time, the conviction has never left me that I was called to China.
Hudson Taylor's immediate response to what he clearly felt was God's calling for
him was simple and practical.

From that day, he began to prepare for a life that would call for physical
endurance. He took more exercise in the open air, exchanged his feather bed for
a hard mattress, and carefully watched his diet. Instead of going to church
twice on Sunday, he gave up the evening to visit in the poorest parts of town,
distributing tracts and holding cottage meetings.

In crowded lodging house kitchens, he became a welcome figure, and even on the
race course, his bright face and kindly words opened the way for him to share
his faith. The more he talked about God to others, the more he realized he
needed to know. So, he began devoting even more time to prayer and personal
Bible study.

And of course, if he planned to go to China, he needed to learn Chinese. But a
rare book of Chinese grammar would have cost him more than $20, and a
Chinese-English dictionary at least $75. He could afford neither.

So, he bought a copy of the Gospel of Luke in Chinese. By patiently comparing
brief verses with their equivalent in English, he uncovered the meanings of more
than 600 characters. These he learned and made into a dictionary of his own.

I have begun to get up at five in the morning, he wrote to his sister at school,
and find it necessary to go to bed early. I must study if I am to go to China. I
am fully decided to go, and am making every preparation I can.

I intended to rub up my Latin, and learn Greek, and the rudiments of Hebrew, and
get as much general information as possible. I need your prayers. Several years
working alongside his father in preparing prescriptions had given Hudson an
interest in medicine.

So, when he heard that a physician in the seaside city of Hald needed an
assistant, Hudson applied for the job and was accepted. Though this meant he had
to move away from home, he was able to move in for a time with an aunt who lived
in Hald and enjoyed all the benefits of home. Hudson's employer, Dr. Hardy, paid
him a salary adequate for covering his personal expenses.

The young assistant gave 10% of his income to the work of God, and devoted his
own time on Sunday evenings to evangelistic work in the poorest part of town.
And the more exposed he became to the needs of the poor he met, the more
seriously he began to think about his own comfortable lifestyle. If he spent
less on himself, would he find even greater joy in being able to give more to
others? Hudson decided to live out an experiment and try to answer that
question.

On the outskirts of town, beyond some vacant lots, sat a double row of cottages
bordering a narrow canal in a neighborhood referred to as Drainside. The canal
was really just a deep ditch into which the people of Drainside tossed their
rubbish and sewage to be carried away with the tide. The cottages, like peas in
a pod, followed the winding drain for a half mile.

Each identical house had one door and two windows. And it was for a rented room
in one of these small shacks that Hudson Taylor left his aunt's pleasant home.
Mrs. Finch, Hudson's new landlady, was a true Christian and delighted to have
the young doctor under her roof.

She did her best to make the chamber clean and comfortable, polishing the
fireplace opposite the window and making up the bed in the corner farthest from
the door. A plain wooden table and a chair or two completed the appointments.
The room was only 12 feet square and was situated on the first floor of the
bungalow, opening right out into the family kitchen.

From Hudson's lone window, he could look across the drain to a pub whose lights
were useful on dark nights shining across the mud and water of the drain. In
addition to his rather dreary surroundings, Hudson's move to Drainside required
him to provide his own meals. This meant that he bought his meager supplies as
he returned from surgery and rarely sat down to a proper supper.

His walks were solitary, his evenings spent alone, and Sundays brought long
hours of work, either in his new neighborhood or among the crowds who frequented
the Humber Dock. Having now the twofold object in view, he recalled, of
accustoming myself to endure hardness and of economizing in order to help those
among whom I was laboring in the gospel, I soon found that I could live upon
very much less than I had previously thought possible. Butter, milk, and other
luxuries I ceased to use, and found that by living mainly on oatmeal and rice,
with occasional variations, a very small sum was sufficient for my needs.

In this way, I had more than two-thirds of my income available for other
purposes, and my experience was that the less I spent on myself and the more I
gave to others, the fuller of happiness and blessing did my soul become. It was
during this time at Drainside that Hudson gained a deeper, more painful
understanding of the sacrifice that would be required to go to China. For it had
been almost two years since he'd made the acquaintance of a talented and
beautiful young music teacher from his sister Amelia's school, and Hudson had
fallen in love.

Though the girl was a Christian, she didn't feel at all called to the mission
field. On more than one occasion, when they were talking about his plans, she
asked Hudson if he couldn't serve God just as well at home as in China. But
Hudson was sure of God's call.

He was also deeply in love, and since she had never said she wouldn't be willing
to go with him, he hoped and prayed that she would soon feel the same call he
did. But just weeks after his move to Drainside, he got the final,
heart-breaking word. She would not go to China.

Hudson confided in a letter to his sister Amelia, For some days I was as
wretched as a heart could wish. It seemed as if I had no power in prayer nor
relish for it. And instead of throwing my care on him, I kept it all to myself
until I could endure it no longer.

Temptation gripped him, asking, Why should you go to China after all? Why toil
and suffer all your life for an ideal of duty? Give it up now while you can yet
win her. Earn a proper living like everybody else and serve the Lord at home,
for you can win her yet. Love pleaded hard.

Then as he told his sister, In the afternoon, as I was sitting alone in the
surgery, I began to reflect on the love of God, His goodness and my return, the
number of blessings He has granted me, and how small my trials are compared with
those some are called to endure. He thoroughly softened and humbled me. His love
melted my icy, frostbound soul, and sincerely did I pray for pardon for my
ungrateful conduct and had a wonderful manifestation of the love of God.

Yes, He has humbled me and shown me what I am, revealing Himself as a present, a
very present help in time of trouble. And though He does not deprive me of
feeling in my trial, He enables me to sing, Yet will I rejoice in the Lord, I
will joy in the God of my salvation. Now I am happy in my Savior's love.

I can thank Him for all, even the most painful experiences of the past, and
trust Him without fear for all that is to come. The Year 1851 I never made a
sacrifice, said Hudson Taylor in later years, looking back over a life that any
objective observer would see as filled with self-denial. Yet he meant what he
said because his experience had taught him that whenever he made any sacrifice
for God, his compensation was so full and overwhelming that giving up seemed
more like receiving.

And that was a lasting lesson he began to learn through some memorable
experiences that winter at Rainside. No matter what sacrifice he made, the
reward was greater. Despite the heartbreak of his lost love and an environment
marked by bleak poverty, his spirit soared.

He said, Unspeakable joy all day long and every day was my happy experience.
God, even my God, was a living bright reality and all I had to do was joyful
service. Even the tone of his letters changed, becoming less introspective and
more focused on his plans for the future.

China once more filled his thoughts. He felt and expressed even deeper concern
for the spiritual condition of those who didn't know Christ as he did. Yet
despite his positive spirit, Hudson's mother worried about her son, his living
conditions and his health, especially after receiving reports from others that
he looked pale and thin.

When she wrote asking about his health, he responded in January, I am sorry you
make yourself anxious about me. I think it is because I have begun to wear a
larger coat than everybody says. How poorly and thin you look.

He went on to assure that he had recovered quickly from a bad cold and was now
healthy and taking care of himself. Evidently his mother wasn't completely
satisfied. She even began to worry about the rigors of his planned missionary
services to China.

So he wrote again in an attempt to allay her concern about his present and his
future. Do not let anything unsettle you, dear mother. Missionary work is indeed
the noblest any mortal can engage in.

We certainly cannot be insensible to the ties of nature, but should we not
rejoice when we have anything we can give for the Savior? As to my health, I
think I was never so well and hearty in my life. The winds here are extremely
searching, but as I always wrap up well, I am pretty secure. The cold weather
gives me a good appetite, and it would be dear economy to stint myself.

So I take as much plain, substantial food as I need, but waste nothing on
luxuries. I have found some brown biscuits, which are really as cheap as bread,
18 pence a stone, and much nicer. For breakfast I have biscuit and herring,
which is cheaper than butter, three for a penny and half of one is enough, with
coffee.

For dinner I have at present a prune and an apple pie. Prunes are two or three
pence a pound, and apples ten pence a peck. I use no sugar, but loaf, which I
powder, and at four pence, half penny a pound, I find it is cheaper than a
coarser kind.

Sometimes I have roast potato and tongue, which is as inexpensive as any other
meat. For tea I have biscuit and apples. I take no supper, or occasionally a
little biscuit and apple.

Sometimes I have rice pudding, a few peas boiled instead of potatoes, and now
and then some fish. By being wide awake I can get cheese at four pence to six
pence a pound, that is better than we often have at home for eight pence. Now I
see rhubarb and lettuce in the market, so I shall soon have another change.

I pickled a penny red cabbage with three half pence worth of vinegar, which made
me a large jar full. So you see, at little expense I enjoy many comforts. To
these at a home where every want is anticipated, and the peace of God, which
passeth all understanding.

And if I were not happy and contented, I should deserve to be miserable. In a
letter that he is writing to his mother in January of 1851, he writes, Continue
to pray for me, dear mother. Though comfortable as regards temporal matters, and
happy, and thankful, I feel I need your prayers.

Oh mother, I cannot tell you, I cannot describe how I long to be a missionary.
To carry the glad tidings to poor, perishing sinners. To spend, and be spent for
him who died for me.

Think, mother, of twelve millions. A number so great it is impossible to realize
it. Yes, twelve million souls in China.

Every year, passing without God, and without hope, into eternity. Oh, let us
look with compassion on this multitude. God has been merciful to us.

Let us be like him. I must conclude, would you not give up all for Jesus who
died for you? Yes, mother, I know you would. God be with you, and comfort you.

Must I leave as soon as I can save money to go? I feel as if I could not live if
something is not done for China. Yet, even though Hudson longed to go to the
Orient, and to go at once, he wasn't entirely sure he was ready for the
challenge. He wrote more of that winter in the little room at Drainside.

To me, it was a very grave matter to contemplate going out to China, far from
human aid, there to depend on the living God alone for protection, supplies, and
help of every kind. I felt that one's spiritual muscles required strengthening
for such an undertaking. There was no doubt that if faith did not fail, God
would not fail.

But what if one's faith should prove insufficient? I had not at that time
learned that even if we believe not, yet he abideth faithful, he cannot deny
himself. It was consequently a very serious matter to my mind, not whether he
was faithful, but whether I had strong enough faith to warrant my embarking on
the enterprise set before me. When I get out to China, I thought to myself, I
shall have no claim on anyone for anything.

My only claim will be on God. How important to learn before leaving England to
move man through prayer, through God, and by prayer alone. Hudson Taylor
believed that the Bible said that faith could move mountains.

But he wondered if his faith was yet strong enough to do the job. If it needed
to grow, he decided he ought to exercise it. So that's what he did.

To learn before leaving England to move man through God by prayer alone, that
was his goal. And before long he came to see a simple, natural way to practice
this exercise of his faith. He wrote of this lesson, At Hall, my kind employer
wished me to remind him whenever my salary became due.

This I determined not to do directly, but to ask that God would bring the fact
to his recollection, and thus encourage me by answering prayer. At one time as
the day drew near for the payment of a quarter's salary, I was as usual much in
prayer about it. The time arrived, but Dr. Hardy made no allusion to the matter.

I continued praying. Days passed on, and he did not remember until at length on
settling up my weekly accounts on Saturday night, I found myself possessed of
only one remaining coin, a half-crown piece. Still, I had hitherto known no
lack, and I continued praying.

That Sunday was a very happy one. As usual, my heart was full and brimming over
with blessing. After attending divine service in the morning, my afternoons and
evenings were taken up with gospel work in the various lodging houses I was
accustomed to visit in the lowest part of the town.

At such times, it almost seemed to me as if heaven were begun low, and that all
that could be looked for was an enlargement of one's capacity for joy, not a
truer feeling than I possessed. After concluding my last service about ten
o'clock that night, a poor man asked me to go and pray with his wife, saying
that she was dying. I readily agreed, and on the way asked him what he had not
sent for the priest, as his accent told me he was an Irishman.

He had done so, he said, but the priest refused to come without payment of
eighteen pence, which the man did not possess as the family was starving.
Immediately it occurred to my mind that all the money I had in the world was the
solitary half-crown, and that it was in one coin. Moreover, that while the basin
of water gruel I usually took for supper was awaiting me, and there was
sufficient in the house for breakfast in the morning, I certainly had nothing
for dinner the next day.

Somehow or other, there was once a stoppage in the flow of joy in my heart. But
instead of reproving myself, I began to reprove the poor man, telling him that
it was very wrong to have allowed matters to get into such a state as he had
described, and that he ought to have applied to the retrieving officer. His
answer was that he had done so, and was told to come at eleven o'clock the next
morning, but that he feared his wife might not live into the night.

Ah, thought I, if only I had two shillings and a sixpence instead of this
half-crown, how gladly I would give these poor people a shilling. But to part
with the half-crown was far from my thoughts. I little dreamed that the truth of
the matter simply was that I could trust God, plus one and sixpence, but was not
prepared to trust Him only without any money in all my pockets.

My conductor led me into the court, down which I followed him with some degree
of nervousness. I had found myself there before, and on my last visit had been
roughly handled. Up a miserable flight of stairs into a wretched room he led me.

And oh, what a sight there presented itself! Four or five children stood about,
their sunken cheeks and temples telling unmistakably the story of slow
starvation. And lying on a wretched pallet was a poor, exhausted mother with a
tiny infant, thirty-six hours old, moaning rather than crying at her side. Ah,
thought I, if I had two shillings and a sixpence instead of a half-crown, how
gladly should they have one and sixpence of it! But still a wretched unbelief
prevented me from obeying the impulse to relieve their distress at the cost of
all I possessed.

It will scarcely seem strange that I was unable to say much to comfort these
poor people. I needed comfort myself. I began to tell them, however, that they
must not be cast down, that though their circumstances were very distressing,
there was a kind and loving Father in Heaven.

But something within me cried, You hypocrite, telling these unconverted people
about a kind and loving Father in Heaven, have not prepared yourself to trust
Him without half a crown. I nearly choked. How glad would I have compromised
with conscience if I had a florin and a sixpence! I would have given the florin
thankfully and kept the rest, but I was not yet prepared to trust in God alone
without the sixpence.

To talk was impossible under these circumstances. Yet strange to say, I thought
I should have no difficulty in praying. Praying was a delightful occupation in
those days.

Time thus spent never seemed wearisome, and I knew no lack of words. I seemed to
think that all I should have to do would be to kneel down and pray, and that
relief would come to them and to myself together. You asked me to come and pray
with your wife, I said to the man.

Let us pray, and I knelt down. But no sooner had I opened my lips with Our
Father who art in Heaven, than conscience said within, Dare you mock God? Dare
you kneel down and call Him Father with that half crown in your pocket? Such a
time of conflict then came upon me as I had never experienced before. How I got
through that form of prayer I know not, and whether the words uttered were
connected or disconnected, I don't even know.

But I arose from my knees in great distress of mind. The poor Father turned to
me and said, You see what a terrible state we are in, sir, if you can help us,
for God's sake, do. At that moment the word flashed into my mind, Give to him
that asketh of thee, and in the word of a king there is power.

I put my hand into my pocket, and slowly drawing out the half crown, gave it to
the man, telling him that it might seem a small matter for me to relieve them,
seeing that I was comparatively well off. But in that parting with that coin, I
was giving him all. But that way I had been trying to tell him that it was
indeed true.

God really was a Father and might be trusted. Oh, how the joy came back in full
tide to my heart. I could say anything and feel it then, and the hindrance to
blessing was gone, gone I trust forever.

Not only was the poor woman's life saved, but my life as I fully realized that
had been saved too. It might have been a wreck, would have been probably as a
Christian life, had not grace at that time conquered and the striving of God's
Spirit been obeyed. I well remembered that night as I went home to my lodging
how my heart was as light as my pocket.

The dark, deserted streets resounded with a hymn of praise that I could not
restrain. When I took my basin of gruel before retiring, I would not have
exchanged it for a prince's feast. Reminding the Lord as I knelt at my bedside
of His own word, He that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord.

I asked Him not to let my loan be a long one, or I should have no dinner the
next day. And with peace within and peace without, I spent a happy, restful
night. Next morning my plate of porridge remained for breakfast, and before it
was finished the postman's knock was heard at the door.

I was not in the habit of receiving letters on Monday, as my parents and most of
my friends refrained from posting on Saturday, so that I was somewhat surprised
when the landlady came in holding a letter or packet in her wet hand covered by
her apron. I looked at the letter, but could not make out the handwriting. It
was either a strange hand or a feigned one, and the postmark was blurred.

Where it came from I could not tell. On opening the envelope I found nothing
written within, but inside a sheet of blank paper was folded a pair of kid
gloves, from which, as I opened them in astonishment, half a sovereign fell to
the ground. "'Praise the Lord!' I exclaimed.

"'Four hundred percent for twelve hours' investment! "'How glad the merchants of
Hall would be "'if they could lend their money at such a rate of interest!' Then
and there I determined that a bank that could not break should have my savings,
or earnings as the case might be, a determination I have not yet learned to
regret. I cannot tell you how often my mind has recurred to this incident, or
all the help it has been to me in circumstances of difficulty. If we are
faithful to God in little things, we shall gain experience and strength that
will be helpful to us in the more serious trials of life." But this was not the
end of the story, nor was it the only answer to prayer that was to confirm the
strength and readiness of Hudson Taylor's faith at that time.

The conclusion of the story is told in his own words. This remarkable and
gracious deliverance was a great joy to me as well as a strong confirmation of
faith. But of course ten shillings, however economically used, will not go very
far, and it was nonetheless necessary to continue in prayer, asking that the
larger supply, which was still due, might be remembered and paid.

All my petitions, however, appeared to remain unanswered, and before a fortnight
elapsed, I found myself pretty much in the same position that I had occupied on
the Saturday night earlier that one that was made so memorable. Meanwhile, I
continued pleading with God more and more earnestly that He would Himself remind
Dr. Hardy that my salary was due. Of course, it was not want of money that
distressed me.

That could have been had at any time for the asking. The question uppermost in
my mind was, can I go to China, or will my want of faith and power with God
prove so serious an obstacle as to preclude my entering upon this much-prized
service? As the week drew to a close, I felt exceedingly embarrassed. There was
not only myself to consider.

On Saturday night, a payment would be due to my Christian landlady, which I knew
she could not dispense with. Ought I not, for her sake, to speak about the
matter of the salary? Yet to do so would be, to myself at any rate, the
admission that I was not fitted to undertake a missionary enterprise. I gave
nearly the whole of Thursday and Friday, all the time not occupied in my
necessary employment, to earnest wrestling with God in prayer.

But still on Saturday morning, I was in the same position as before. And now my
earnest cry was for guidance as to whether I should still continue to wait the
Father's time. As far as I could judge, I received the assurance that to wait
His time was best, and that God in some way or another would interpose on my
behalf.

So I waited, my heart being now at rest and the burden gone. About five o'clock
that Saturday afternoon, when Dr. Hardy had finished writing his prescriptions,
his last circuit for the day being done, he threw himself back in his armchair
as he was wont, and began to speak of the things of God. He was a truly
Christian man, and many seasons of happy fellowship we had together.

I was busily watching at the time a pan in which a decoction was boiling that
required a good deal of attention. It was indeed fortunate for me that it was
so, for without any obvious connection with what had been going on, all at once
he said, By the way, Taylor, is your salary due again? My emotion may be
imagined. I had to swallow two or three times before I could answer.

With my eye fixed on the pan and my back to the doctor, I told him as quietly as
I could that it was overdue some little time. How thankful I felt at that
moment. God surely had heard my prayer, and caused him in this time of great
need to remember the salary without any word or suggestion from me.

Oh, I'm so sorry you did not remind me, he replied. You know how busy I am, and
I wish I had thought of it a little sooner, for only this afternoon I sent all
the money I had to the bank. Otherwise I would pay you at once.

It is impossible to describe the revulsion of feeling caused by this unexpected
statement. I knew not what to do. Fortunately for me the pan boiled up, and I
had a good reason for rushing with it from the room.

Glad indeed I was to keep out of sight until Dr. Harley had returned to his
house, and most thankful he had not perceived my emotion. As soon as he was
gone, I had to seek my little sanctum and pour out my heart before the Lord
before calmness, and more than calmness, thankfulness and joy were restored. I
felt that God had his own way, and was not going to fail me.

I had sought to know his early will in the day, and as far as I could judge, had
received guidance to wait patiently. And now God was going to work for me in
some other way. That evening was spent, as my Saturday evenings usually were, in
reading the word and preparing the subject on which I expected to speak in the
various lodging houses on the morrow.

I waited, perhaps a little longer than usual. At last, about ten o'clock, I put
on my overcoat and was preparing to leave for home, rather thankful to know that
by that time I should have to let myself in with the latchkey as my landlady
retired early. There was certainly no help for that night, but perhaps God would
interpose for me by Monday, and I might be able to pay my landlady early in the
week the money I would have given her before, had it been possible.

Just as I was about to turn down the gas, I heard the doctor step in the garden
that lay between the dwelling house and surgery. He was laughing to himself
heartily, as though greatly amused. Entering the surgery, he asked for the
ledger and told me that, strange to say, one of his richest patients had just
come to him to pay his doctor bill.

Was it not an odd thing to do? It never struck me that it might have had some
bearing on my case, or I might have been embarrassed. Looking at it simply from
the position of an uninterested spectator, I also was highly amused that a man
rolling in wealth should come after ten o'clock at night to pay a bill which he
could any day have met by a check with the greatest ease. It appeared that,
somehow or other, he could not rest with this on his mind, and had been
constrained to come at that unusual hour to discharge his liability.

The account was duly receipted in the ledger, and Dr. Hardy was about to leave,
when suddenly he turned and, handing me some of the banknotes just received,
said to my surprise and thankfulness, By the by, Taylor, you might as well take
these notes. I have no change, but can give you the balance next week. Again I
was left, my feelings undiscovered, to go back to my little closet and praise
the Lord with a joyful heart that, after all, I might go to China.

The year 1852, 1853. With the impatience of an idealistic 19-year-old, Hudson
wrote his sister a letter in March of 1852 in which he said, I feel I have not
long to stay in this country now. I do not know what turn Providence is about to
take, but I think some change is coming, and I am forewarned that I should be
prepared.

Pray for me that my faith shall not fail. Hudson saw no likely prospect for any
immediate service with a missionary agency. They all required ordination and
more training than he had.

So he began to think of saving enough money to pay his own way to China. He
would just trust God for provision once he was there, but even the thought of
working to save up money for his own passage seemed an unacceptable and
frustrating delay. So he began considering yet another alternative, which he
raised in the same letter to his sister.

If I stay here another two years and save fifty or sixty pounds to pay my
expenses to China, I shall land there no better off than if I go at once and
work my passage out. In two years there will die in that land at least
twenty-four million people. In six or eight months I should be able to talk a
little Chinese, and if I could instruct in the truths of the gospel one poor
sinner, then what would the hardship of a four or five month voyage weigh in
comparison? Hudson hoped to find a berth as an assistant to a ship surgeon.

If that wasn't possible, he'd go as a sailor. Though he was more than willing to
endure the hardship which that would entail, the advice and prayers of family
and friends convinced him that he had more to learn before he had set for the
other side of the world. Dr. Hardy offered Hudson a medical apprenticeship, but
his plan required a commitment that would last several years.

And as eager as Hudson was to become a doctor, he felt he needed to be ready to
go to China as soon as the opportunity opened up. So he turned down that kind
doctor's offer. Shortly following, just months after his twentieth birthday,
Hudson decided to continue his medical studies in London.

He felt certain that after a short time there, the way would open up for him to
go to China. And he wasn't nearly as concerned about needing more money, more
education, or even more maturity as he was about continuing to exercise and
strengthen his faith. I felt I could not go to China without having still
further developed and tested my power to rest upon his faithfulness.

And a marked opportunity for doing so was providentially afforded me. My dear
father had offered to bear all the expenses of my stay in London. I knew,
however, that owing to recent losses, it would mean a considerable sacrifice for
him to undertake this just when it seemed necessary for me to go forward.

I had recently become acquainted with the committee of the Chinese
Evangelization Society. And not knowing of my father's proposition, the
committee also kindly offered to bear my expense while in London. While these
proposals were first made to me, I was not quite clear as to what I ought to do.

And in writing to my father and the secretaries, told them that I would take a
few days to pray about the matter before deciding any course of action. I
mentioned to my father that I had had this offer from the Society, and told the
secretaries also of his proffered aid. Subsequently, while waiting upon God in
prayer for guidance, it became clear to my mind that I could without difficulty
decline both offers.

The secretaries of the Society would not know that I had cast myself wholly on
God for supplies, and my father would conclude that I had accepted the other
offer. I therefore wrote, declining both, and felt that without anyone having
either care or anxiety on my account, I was simply in the hands of God, and that
he who knew my heart, if he wished to encourage me to go to China, would bless
my effort to depend upon him alone at home. Hudson did accept the Mission
Society offer to cover his fees at the London hospital where he studied, and an
uncle in Soho gave him a place to stay for a few weeks until he could find
permanent lodging.

But beyond that, Hudson Taylor, a small-town boy, was on his own in the hustle
and bustle of London. Before leaving Hall, he had written to his mother, I am
indeed proving the truth of that word, thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose
mind is stayed on thee because he trusteth in thee. My mind is quiet, as much at
rest, and nay more than it would be if I had had a hundred pounds in my pocket.

May he keep me ever thus, simply depending on him for every blessing, temporal
as well as spiritual. About his search for a job that would pay living expenses
and leave time for his studies, he wrote to his sister, Amelia. No situation has
turned up in London that will suit me, but I am not concerned about it, as he is
the same yesterday and today and forever.

His love is unfailing, his word unchangeable, his power ever the same, therefore
the heart that trusts him is kept in perfect peace. I know he tries me only to
increase my faith, and that is all in love. Well, if he is glorified, I am
content.

Hudson decided that if his faith was going to fail him, better to make that
discovery in London than in China. So he continued his test, living on his
meager savings and God's provision. He wrote of this time, To lessen expenses, I
shared a room with a cousin four miles from the hospital, providing my own
board, and after various experiments, I found that the most economical way was
to live almost exclusively on brown bread and water.

Thus, I was able to make the means that God gave me last longer and as much as
possible. Some of my expenses I could not diminish, but my board was largely in
my control. A large two-penny loaf of brown bread, purchased daily on my long
walk from the hospital, furnished me with a supper and breakfast, and on this
diet, with a few apples for lunch, I managed to walk eight or nine miles a day,
besides being a good deal on foot attending to the practice of the hospital.

The following months further tested Hudson's patience. Even as he studied, he
prayed for an open door to China. During that time, he almost died of a fever
contracted from a cadaver he and fellow students worked on at the hospital.

But events were transpiring on the other side of the world that promised to
change the course of Chinese history and suddenly made Hudson Taylor's longtime
dream an immediate reality. In China, the Taiping Rebellion looked to be on the
verge of success. Its capital firmly established at Nanking, its nominally
Christian forces had swept over the central and northern provinces.

Peking itself looked almost within their grasp. Hung Chua Tuan, founder of the
Taiping movement, had read a Christian tract and had been impressed with
Christian teaching. He wrote to an American missionary, Send me teachers, many
teachers, to help in making known the truth.

Hereafter, when my enterprise is successfully terminated, I will disseminate the
doctrine throughout the whole empire that all may return to the one Lord and
worship the true God only. This is what my heart earnestly desires. Suddenly, it
seemed to the waiting western world that China, closed for centuries to
foreigners, was about to be thrown open to messengers of Christianity.

The entire Christian church in Europe and North America grew excited at the
prospect. It seemed an opportunity too wonderful to miss. Money began pouring in
to the treasures of mission organizations for China-related projects.

For example, the British and Foreign Bible Society decided to undertake an
unprecedented printing of one million copies of the Chinese New Testament. And
the society, paying Hudson's school expense, decided to send two men to Shanghai
as soon as possible. One of these men, a Scottish physician, couldn't leave
immediately.

But they thought Hudson Taylor, single and only 21, might go on short notice,
even if it meant sacrificing the degrees he was pursuing in medicine and
surgery. Despite his past impatience, the decision wasn't an easy one for
Hudson. He had had enough dealings with the Chinese Evangelization Society to
realize some of what it would mean to be accountable to its organization.

He would need their approval for anything he did in China. They wanted to send
him to Shanghai. But what happened if the way opened for him to move into the
interior? He began to feel that God was calling him to inland China, where no
western missionary had ever gone.

And now, with the seeming success of the Taiping Rebellion, the opportunity
might be there. He began to wonder whether or not he would be better off
returning to his earlier plan of going to China on his own, dependent on and
accountable only to God. He asked his friends and family for counsel and prayer
in his decision.

But after an interview with one of the secretaries of the society, he wrote to
his mother, Mr. Bird has removed most of the difficulties I have been feeling,
and I think it will be well to comply with his suggestion and at once propose
myself to the committee. I shall await your answer, however, and rely upon your
prayers. If I should be accepted to go at once, would you advise me to come home
before sailing? I long to be with you once more, and I know you would naturally
wish to see me.

But I almost think it would be easier for us not to meet. Than having to meet
and part again forever. No, not forever.

I cannot write more, but hope to see and hear from you as soon as possible. Pray
much for me. It is easy to talk of leaving all for Christ, but when it comes to
the proof, it is only as we stand complete in Him can we go through with it.

God be with you, and bless you, my own dear mother, and give you so to realize
the preciousness of Jesus, that you may wish for nothing but to know Him. And to
his sister he wrote, Pray for me, dear Amelia, that he who has promised to meet
all our need may be with me in this painful, though long-expected hour. The
decision was soon made.

Hudson Taylor was going to China, and he booked passage on the first ship he
could find. Moored at her landing in a Liverpool dock, the double-masted sailing
ship, the Dumfries, was bound for China. A small vessel of 470 tons, she was
carrying only one passenger, so there was no crowd to see her off.

Mr. Pierce, a representative of the Mission Society, and Hudson's father had
made the trip to Liverpool, but when needed repairs delayed the ship's
departure, they both had to return home, leaving only Hudson's mother to
actually see him off. He later recalled the difficulty of that exciting and sad
experience. On the 19th of September, 1853, a little service was held in the
stern cabin of the Dumfries, which had been secured for me by the Chinese
Evangelization Society, under whose auspices I was going to China.

My beloved, now sainted mother, had come over to Liverpool to see me off. Never
shall I forget that day, nor how she went with me into the cabin that was to be
my home for nearly six months. With a mother's loving hand, she smoothed the
little bed.

She sat by my side and joined in the last hymn we would sing together before
parting. We knelt down and she prayed, the last mother's prayer I was to hear
before leaving for China. Then notice was given that we must separate, and we
had to say goodbye, never expecting to meet on earth again.

For my sake, she restrained her feelings as much as possible. We parted and she
went ashore, giving me her blessing. I stood alone on deck and she followed the
ship as we moved toward the dock gates.

As we passed through the gates and the separation really commenced, never shall
I forget the cry of anguish wrung from that mother's heart. It went through me
like a knife. I never knew so fully until then what God so loved the world
meant.

And I'm quite sure my precious mother learned more of the love of God for the
perishing in that one hour than in all her life before. As difficult and
emotional as that parting must have been, the trials of Hudson's
around-the-world journey had just begun. It was a journey nearly doomed before
the little ship even reached the open sea.

For twelve stormy days, the Dumfries beat about St. George's Channel in
gale-force winds, alternately siding Ireland and the dangerous Welsh coast.
Hudson's journals tell the story. All day on September the 24th, the barometer
kept falling, and as darkness came on, the wind began to freshen.

The sailors had a hard night of it, so the captain did not call them aft as is
his custom to read prayers on Sunday morning. At noon it was blowing hard and we
took in all possible sail, leaving only just as much as would keep the ship
steady. I distributed tracks among the crew and then came down to my cabin as
the increased motion was making me sick.

The barometer was still falling, and the wind increased until it was a perfect
hurricane. The captain and the mate said that they had never seen a wilder sea.
Between two and three in the afternoon, I managed to get on deck, though the
pitching made it difficult.

The scene I shall never forget. It was a grand one beyond description. The sea,
lashing itself into fury, was white with foam.

There was a large ship astern us and a brig to our weather side. The ship gained
on us, but drifted more. The waves, like hills on either side, seemed as if they
might swamp us at any moment, but the ship bore up bravely.

On account of the heavy sea, we were making little or no headway, and the wind
being from the west, we were drifting quickly, irresistibly toward a lee shore.
Unless God help us, the captain said, there is no hope. I asked how far we might
be from the Welsh coast.

Fifteen to sixteen miles, was his reply. We can do nothing but carry all
possible sail. The more we carry, the less we drift.

It is for our lives. God grant the timbers may bear it. He then had two sails
set on each mast.

It was a fearful time. The wind was blowing terrifically, and we were tearing
along at a frightful rate. One moment high in the air, and the next plunging
head foremost into the trough of the sea, as if about to go to the bottom.

The windward side of the ship was fearfully elevated, the lee side being as much
depressed. Indeed, the sea at times poured over our lee bulkwards. Thus the sun
set, and I watched it ardently.

Tomorrow thou wilt rise as usual, I thought, but unless the Lord work
miraculously on our behalf, a few broken timbers will be all that is left of us
and our ship. The night was cold, the wind biting, and the seas, we shipped
continually with foam and spray, wet us through and through. I went below, read
a hymn or two, some psalms, and John 13 to 15, and was comforted, so much so
that I fell asleep and slept for an hour.

We then looked at the barometer and found it rising. We had passed the Bardsley
Island Lighthouse between Cardigan and Carnarvon Bays, running up the channel,
and I asked the captain whether we could clear Hollyhead or not. If we make no
leeway, he replied, we may just do it, but if we drift, God help us.

And we did drift. First the Hollyhead Lighthouse was ahead of us, and then it
was on our outside. Our fate now seemed sealed.

I asked if we were sure of two more hours. The captain said we could not be. The
barometer was still rising, but too slowly to give much hope.

I thought of my dear father and mother, sisters, and special friends, and the
tears would start. The captain was calm and courageous, trusting in the Lord for
his soul's salvation. The steward said he knew that he was nothing, but Christ
was all.

I felt thankful for them, but I did pray earnestly that God would have mercy on
us and spare us for the sake of the unconverted crew, as well as for his own
glory as the God who hears and answers prayer. The passage was then brought to
my mind. Call upon me in the day of trouble, I will deliver thee, and thou shalt
glorify me.

And very earnestly I pleaded the promise. Our position now was truly awful. The
night was very light, the moon being unclouded, and we could just see land
ahead.

I went below. The barometer was improving, but the wind in no way abated. I took
out my pocketbook and wrote in it my name and home address in case my body
should be found.

I also tied a few things in a hamper which I thought would float and perhaps
help me or someone else to land. Then, commending my soul to God my Father, and
my friends and all to his care with one prayer that if it were possible this cup
might pass from us, I went on deck. Satan now tempted me greatly, and I had a
fearful struggle.

But the Lord again calmed my mind which from that time was so stayed upon him
that I was kept in peace. I asked the captain whether lifeboats could live in
such a sea. He answered, No.

Could we not lash spars together and make some sort of a raft? He said, We
should probably not have time. The water was now becoming white. Land was just
ahead.

We must try to turn her intact, said the captain, or all is over. The sea may
sweep the deck in turning and washing everything aboard, but we must try. This
was a moment to make the stoutest heart tremble.

He gave the word and we tried to turn outwardly, but in vain. This would have
saved us room. He then tried the other way, and with God's blessings succeeded,
clearing the rocks by not more than two ships' length.

Just as we did so, the wind most providentially veered two points in our favor,
and we were able to beat out of the bay. Had not the Lord thus helped us, all
our efforts must have been in vain. Truly, His mercy is unfailing.

Hudson Taylor's journal recorded the events of his voyage and it is full of
interesting experiences, occasional excitement, and even more monotony of
twenty-three consecutive weeks of sailing without touching land. Much of his
time was spent in his cabin, reading, studying, and preparing for his missionary
ministry, but he also held more than sixty religious services for the sailors
aboard the ship. The men seemed interested, and some came to Hudson at times for
private talk and prayer, but he was somewhat discouraged that so little
permanent change resulted in their lives, and that none of the men made complete
commitments to Christ.

But perhaps one of the most encouraging and most trying experiences of the
voyage occurred during days of doldrums in the South Pacific when the only
progress was made between sunset and dawn when the light evening breezes would
blow. Of those days, Hudson wrote, never is one more helpless than in a sailing
ship with a total absence of wind in the presence of a strong current setting
toward a dangerous coast. In a storm, the ship is to some extent manageable, but
be calmed, one can do nothing, the Lord must do all.

This happened notably on one occasion when we were in a dangerous proximity to
the north of New Guinea. Saturday night had brought us to a point some thirty
miles off the land, and during the Sunday morning service, which was held on
deck, I could not fail to see that the captain looked troubled and frequently
went over to the side of the ship. When the service was ended, I learned from
him the cause, a four-knot current was carrying us toward some sunken reefs, and
we were already so near that it seemed improbable that we should get through the
afternoon in safety.

After dinner, the long boat was pulled out and all hands endeavored, without
success though, to turn the ship's head from the shore. After standing together
on the deck for some time in silence, the captain said to me, well, we have done
everything that can be done, we can only wait the result. A thought occurred to
me, and I replied, no, there is one thing we have not done yet.

What is that? he queried. Four of us on board are Christians. Let us each retire
to his own cabin, and in agreed prayer, ask the Lord to give us immediately a
breeze.

He can as easily send it now as at sunset. The captain complied with his
proposal. I went and spoke to the other two men, and after prayer with the
carpenter, we all four retired to wait upon God.

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

What would be the good of that? he answered roughly. I told him we had been
asking for a wind from God, that it was coming immediately, and we were so near
the reef by this time that there was not a minute to lose. With an oath and a
look of contempt, he said he would rather see a wind than hear of it.

But while he was speaking, I watched his eye, followed it up to the royal, and
there, sure enough, the corner of the topmost sail was beginning to tremble in
the breeze. Don't you see the wind is coming? Look at the royal, I exclaimed.
No, it's only a cat's paw, he rejoined, a mere puff of wind.

Cat's paw or not, I cried. Pray, let down the mainsail and give us the benefit.
This he was not slow to do.

In another minute, the heavy tread of the men on deck brought up the captain
from his cabin to see what was the matter. The breeze had indeed come. In a few
minutes we were plowing our way at six or seven knots an hour through the water,
and though the wind was sometimes unsteady, we did not altogether lose it until
the passing of the Palau Islands.

Thus, God encountered me ere landing on China's shores to bring a variety of
need to him in prayer, and to expect that he would honor the name of the Lord
Jesus and give the help each emergency required. It was a lesson that he would
soon put to the test. And now the years 1854 to 1855.

China seemed even more forbidding to an uninvited foreigner in 1854 when Hudson
Taylor first reached its shores than it would today. Shanghai and four other
treaty ports were the only cities in which Westerners were allowed to reside,
and there was not a single Protestant missionary anywhere in the interior. The
curiosity with which the Chinese people viewed foreigners was more than matched
by deep feelings of suspicion and fear.

Civil war was raging, and the entire country lived in chaos. The Taiping
Rebellion, which started as a populist movement for social, economic, and
religious reform, and was viewed by many Westerners as the best hope for an end
to the repressive Manchu dynasty, had bogged down. Lack of unity and discipline
among the ranks caused the movement to disintegrate slowly into factional,
destructive political strife.

What many had hoped might actually result in at least a nominally Christian
Chinese culture instead resulted in bitterness, violence, bloodshed, and turmoil
that would continue for 11 years after Hudson Taylor's arrival in China, until
the Manchu dynasty reestablished a large measure of its former power. Years
afterward, when he would himself be responsible for the guidance of many
missionaries, it would be much easier to see the value of all the hard lessons
learned during his early time in China. But at that time, there seemed so many
lessons to learn, so many hardships to experience.

Were Hudson had dreamed of traveling to the city of Nanking, and soon thereafter
to minister as the first evangelist in China's interior, he'd now find nearly
insurmountable difficulties just getting established in Shanghai. As Hudson
neared the shores of China, Shanghai was in the grip of war. A renegade band of
rebels known as the Red Turbans was in possession of the native city near the
foreign settlement, and 40 to 50,000 imperial troops were encamped around the
city.

Fighting was almost continuous, and the foreign militia was frequently called
upon to protect the settlement. But Hudson Taylor knew little or none of this
when he finally arrived in Shanghai on March 1, 1854. My feelings on stepping
ashore, he wrote, I cannot attempt to describe.

My heart felt as though it had no room and must burst its bonds, while tears of
gratitude and thankfulness fell from my eyes. Just as quickly, the loneliness
and reality of his situation sank in. Not a single person was there to meet him,
not even a stranger to shake his hand and welcome.

In fact, no one in Shanghai knew he was coming, and not a soul on the entire
continent even knew his name. He later wrote, Mingled with thankfulness for
deliverance from many dangers and joy at finding myself at last on Chinese soil
came a vivid realization of the great distance between me and those I loved, and
that I was a stranger in a strange land. I had three letters of introduction,
however, and counted on advice and help from one, especially to whom I had been
commended by mutual friends, whom I knew well and highly valued.

Of course, I inquired of him at once, only to learn that he had been buried a
month or two previously, having died of a fever while we were at sea. Saddened
by these tidings, I asked the whereabouts of the missionary to whom another of
my introductions was addressed, but only to meet with further disappointment. He
had recently left for America.

The third letter remained, but it had been given me by a comparative stranger,
and I expected less from it than from the others. Indeed, while inquiring about
this third gentleman, only to be told he was no longer there, Hudson Taylor felt
utterly alone. But a colleague of the third missionary invited Hudson to stay
for a time on the property of the London Mission until he could be suitably
settled.

Hudson soon learned of some of the challenges he would face. All consumer goods
were sold at famine prices, and both the city and settlement were so crowded
that suitable housing could scarcely be obtained at any price. Had it not been
for the hospitality of Dr. Lockhart of the London Mission, he would have had
nowhere to stay.

Even so, sharp fighting was to be seen from his windows, and he was unable to
walk in any direction without witnessing more horrible suffering and human
misery than he'd ever imagined. It was bitterly cold when Hudson Taylor first
reached Shanghai, and since coal was selling at $50 a ton, it was not possible
to do much to warm the houses. Fortunately, Hudson wasn't accustomed to
luxuries, and he was thankful for a shelter anywhere ashore.

Yet he suffered from the penetrating chill and the dampness. Soon after his
arrival, he wrote, My position is a very difficult one. Dr. Lockhart has taken
me to reside with him for the present as houses are not to be had for love or
money.

No one can live in the city. They are fighting now while I write, and the house
shakes with the report of Cannon. It is so cold that I can hardly think or hold
the pen.

You will see from my letter to Mr. Pierce how perplexed I am. It will be four
months before I can hear in reply, and the very kindness of the missionaries who
have received me with open arms makes me fear to be burdensome. Jesus will guide
me aright.

I love the Chinese more than ever. Oh, to be useful among them. About his first
Sunday in China, Hudson wrote to his sister, I attended two services at the
London Mission and in the afternoon went into the city with Mr. Wiley.

You've never seen a city in a state of siege. God grant you never may. We walked
some distance around the wall, and sad it was to see the wreck of rows upon rows
of houses burnt down, blown down, battered to pieces, in all stages of ruin they
were.

And the misery of those who once occupied them and now, at this inclement
season, are driven from home and the shelter is terrible to think of. By the
time we came to the north gate, they were fighting fiercely outside the city.
One man was carried in dead, another shot through the chest, and a third, whose
arm I examined, seemed to be in dreadful agony.

A ball had gone clean through the arm, breaking the bone in passing. A little
further on, we met some men bringing in a small cannon they had captured, and
following them were others, dragging along by their tails, that is, their
braided hair, five wretched prisoners. The poor fellows cried to us, piteously,
to save them as they hurried by, but alas, we could do nothing.

They would probably be at once decapitated. It just makes one's blood run cold
to think of such things. What it means to be so far from home at the seat of
war, and not be able to understand or be understood by the people was fully
realized.

Their utter wretchedness and misery and my inability to help them or even point
them to Jesus powerfully affected me. Satan had come in as a flood, but there
was one who lifted up a standard against him. Jesus is here, and though unknown
to the majority, a nun cared for by many who might know him, he is present and
precious to his own.

There were other more personal trials as well. For the first time in his life,
Hudson Taylor found himself in a position where he could hardly meet his
financial obligations. He had willingly lived on next to nothing at home to keep
within his means, but in Shanghai, he could not avoid expenses altogether beyond
his income.

Living with others who were receiving two or three times his salary, he was
obligated to board as they did, and saw his small resources melt away with
alarming speed. At home in England, he raised money for foreign missions. He
knew what it was like to receive the hard-earned contributions of poor and
working-class people from whom charitable giving was a true sacrifice.

So missionary money was to him a sacred trust. To have to use it so freely
caused him real distress. To make matters worse, the letters he wrote to the
society asking for direction seldom received satisfactory replies.

After waiting months for instructions, he might hear nothing at all in answer to
his most urgent inquiries. The society in London was far away and could in no
way imagine the circumstances he faced in China. The secretaries were mostly
busy men absorbed in their own affairs who, despite their intentions and sincere
dedication to missionary work, were simply unable to visualize a situation so
different from anything they had ever known.

Hudson Taylor did all he could to make matters clear to them in his regular
letters. But month after month went by and he was left in uncertainty and
financial distress. The Shanghai dollar, previously worth about 50 cents gold,
was up to twice that sum and continually rising.

Yet it had no more purchasing value. Obliged to exceed his salary for even the
barest necessities of life, he finally had to use a letter of credit provided
for emergencies. Yet he could obtain no assurance from the society at home that
his bills would be honored.

It was a painful situation for someone who always had been so conscientious in
money matters and it caused him many wakeful nights. Then, in the heat of
summer, his financial crises became even more complicated. Hudson learned
second-hand that the Scottish physician who was to be his colleague had already
sailed from England with wife and children.

He had received no advance instructions regarding accommodations for the family.
As the weeks went by with still no word, he realized that unless he took the
initiative, an entire family would be welcomed without so much as a roof over
their heads. With no authorization for such an expenditure, he had to find and
rent rooms of some sort for five people in a war-torn city with little housing
at a time of exorbitant prices.

Unable even to afford a sedan chair, the proper means of transport for
Europeans, he exhausted himself searching all through the city and settlement in
the binding heat of August for houses that were not to be had. His friends from
Shanghai suggested that the only thing to do was to buy land and build
immediately. But how could he tell them the embarrassing truth and reveal his
lack of funds? He felt there had already been too much criticism in the
community for the mission he represented and for its inadequate organization.

If there was any hope of continuing to work in China, he felt that he had to
keep his troubles to himself at least as much as possible and to pray. Under
these circumstances, he wrote, one who is really leaning on the beloved finds it
always possible to say, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me. But I am so
apt, like Peter, to take my eyes off the one to be trusted and look at the winds
and the waves, oh, for more stability.

The reading of the word and meditation on the promises have been increasingly
precious to me of late. At first, I allowed my desire to acquire the language
speedily to have undue prominence and a deadening effect on my soul. But now, in
the grace that passes all understanding, the Lord has again caused His face to
shine upon me.

And to his sister, he added, I have been puzzling my brains again about a house,
but to no effect. So I have made it a matter of prayer and have given it
entirely into the Lord's hands. And now, I feel quite at peace about it.

He will provide and be my guide in this and every other perplexing step. It must
have seemed almost too good to be true when only two days after writing that
letter, Hudson Taylor heard of property that could be rented. And before the
month was over, he found himself in possession of a house large enough to
accommodate his expected colleagues.

Five rooms upstairs and seven down seemed a spacious residence, even if it was
only a poor Chinese place, built of wood, full of enough debris to start a
pestilence, he wrote, and extremely run down. On the positive side, it was right
among the people, near the north gate of Shanghai. So it was there that he
established himself six months after he arrived in China.

And even though the location was so dangerous that his Mandarin teacher did not
dare to go with him, he was able to engage a Chinese Christian an educated man,
who could help him begin to learn the local dialect. Finally, Hudson felt that
his missionary work in China had begun. He was living right among the people in
a place of his own.

And with the help of his new teacher, he conducted Christian meetings mornings
and evenings, and started a Christian day school for children, and established a
dispensary where he could have as many as twenty or thirty patients a day who
sought medical help. His letters home to family in the mission revealed his
great excitement over all these developments, as well as his continued
consternation over dwindling finances. It looked as if he had no choice but to
borrow more money, and he still had no assurance that the mission would cover
his basic expenditures.

To complicate things, the location of the house that enabled him to establish a
base of ministry was becoming more and more threatened by the fighting all
around. In one letter to his family, he wrote, Last Wednesday night, a fire that
seemed very near awoke me at three o'clock in the morning. Dressing hastily, I
climbed up onto the roof to ascertain if it were coming this way.

Chinese houses like these, built only of wood, burn very quickly on a windy
night. It was an anxious moment, for in the darkness I fancied the burning
building was only four or five doors away. Just then, as I was praying earnestly
for protection, it began to rain.

The wind fell, for which I was most thankful, and gradually the fire smoldered
down. But it was after five before I dared go to bed again. While there on the
roof, several bullets struck the buildings around me, and two or three seemed to
fall on the tiles of my own house.

At last, a heavy ball struck the ridge of the opposite roof, carrying away a lot
of tiles, the fragments of which fell around me, and itself flew off obliquely.
You may be sure I didn't wait any longer. I got down.

The day before, a ball of that size, evidently spent, struck the roof of this
house, broke some tiles, and fell at the feet of my teacher's child who was
standing in the doorway. Had he been a half a yard further out, it might have
killed him, and that was at noon. I have never passed, as you will believe, such
a trying time in my life, but it is all necessary, and I feel as being made a
blessing to me.

I may have to leave here suddenly, but whatever happens, I do not regret coming
to this house, and would do it again under similar circumstances. Our society
must provide better, however, for its missionaries. This sort of thing will not
do.

It grew increasingly obvious that the house he had finally found in preparation
for the arrival of his colleague's family could not serve its intended purpose.
It was far too dangerous for a family. So, by the end of October, as conditions
worsened, he wrote the secretaries.

There is a great deal of firing going on here now, so much so that I am seldom
able to get half a night's sleep. What Dr. Parker and his family are to do, I do
not know. Their coming here, as things are now, is out of the question.

This constant anxiety for them, as well as for myself, together with another
still more trying issue, the expense I am unable to avoid, is by no means a
desirable addition to the difficulties of language and climate. We have heard
nothing of the swift shore, as you remember that's the boat they're coming on,
but she is hardly due as yet. I shall be thankful when Dr. Parker is here and we
are able to consult together about the future.

You will find this a much more expensive mission, I fear, that was anticipated.
I shall have to draw again this month, and with all possibility, the way the
economy is and the high rate of prices, I may have to do so again in the future.
The total expense of my first year will be little under two hundred pounds, and
even so, I feel confident that there is no other missionary in Shanghai who will
not have cost considerably more.

Indeed, Hudson Taylor had become the subject of much gossip in the foreign
community of Shanghai. Not only had he chose to live outside the foreign
settlement and among the Chinese, he did little socializing among other
Westerners, and even his clothing was looking worn and tattered. When at last,
the house next door to Hudson's was set on fire in an attempt to drive him out,
he felt he had no choice but to return to the foreign settlement and his friends
at the London Mission.

And it was at that time that a small home on the London Missionary Society
property became available for rent. It had belonged to his closest friends in
China, a missionary couple named Burden. Mrs. Burden had died shortly after
giving birth, and Mr. Burden had left with his baby daughter.

Their house was suddenly for rent. Since the arrival of the Parkers was expected
daily, and though it left him only three dollars, Hudson rented the house on his
own authority. Two days later, his long-awaited colleagues, the Parkers, arrived
with two young children plus an infant born at sea.

To make matters worse, Dr. Parker, after the expenses of the voyage, landed in
Shanghai with only a few dollars. He was expecting a letter of credit from the
Society to have already arrived, but it hadn't.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 2: HUDSON TAYLOR'S SPIRITUAL SECRETS #2
========================================================================

He was expecting a letter of credit from the Society to have already arrived,
but it hadn't, and it didn't. In fact, subsequent letters from the Home Office
of the Society didn't even mention the expected money. Hudson was able to ease
the financial strain by sub-leasing half the house to an American missionary
family, but that left only three rooms for the Parkers, their three young
children, and himself.

Dr. Parker went regularly with Hudson to evangelize in the city and surrounding
villages. At home, the men devoted hours every day to the study of Chinese, but
the lack of privacy and the lack of provisions proved both trying and
irritating. Hudson, who for months had been exceedingly patient and
understanding about his own financial straits, wrote an indignant letter to the
Society on behalf of the Parkers, in which he said, I trust you will not deem it
unkind or disrespectful of me to write thus, for though I feel these things and
feel them keenly, were it not for the sake of others and the good of the
Society, I would pass over them in silence.

To do this, however, would be unfaithfulness on my part, for not only is it
morally wrong and thoughtless in the extreme to act as the Society has acted
towards Dr. Parker, but you must surely see that men who can quadruple their
salary by professional practice or double it by taking a clerk's birth will not
be likely, if they find themselves totally unprovided for, to continue in the
service of the Society. I do not make these remarks with respect to Dr. Parker,
who seems thoroughly devoted to the work and by his spirit has encouraged me not
a little, but they are true nonetheless. And I may add that a vacant post at 200
pounds a year, the whole duties of which would not occupy two hours in the
evening, did look inviting to me at a time when I had been obliged to incur a
responsibility of 120 pounds for rent, and the resolution upon my last letter to
the committee informed me that missionaries drawing more than this was
authorized and would only have their bills honored by the Society.

Dr. Parker arrived on Monday a week ago today, calling forth true gratitude to
God for deliverance from the many dangers that had beset their path. Of course,
he found our half of the house nearly empty, as my few things did not go far in
furnishing. The other missionaries, when they discovered the lack of
preparation, blamed me very much.

Could I tell them that having paid nearly 20 pounds for rent, I had only three
dollars left, a sum not sufficient to purchase provisions for a week at the
present high rate of prices? The weather is now exceedingly cold, and not having
been led to expect it, the Parkers needed an immediate supply of warm clothing.
Beds and other articles of furniture were also necessary, as well as food and
firing, all of which run into a considerable sum. Though he has said little, I
am sure Dr. Parker has felt it keenly.

I do trust that you will avoid such occurrences in the future, and that your
missionaries will be spared unnecessary sufferings. Throughout his first
difficult months in China, made so much more difficult by the lack of
consideration and the bureaucratic ineptitude within his mission, Hudson avoided
a spirit of bitterness. In fact, since several of the secretaries had become
close friends and had shared such meaningful spiritual fellowship with him
before he left England, Hudson actually missed them and longed for their
company.

But he also longed for some way to effectively communicate the needs of
missionaries to supporters back home who couldn't imagine their circumstances.
Those long days of frustration taught him much about how a mission needed to be
run, and as seen in a letter to his sister Amelia, he tried to find the good in
a bad situation. You ask how I get over my troubles? This is the way.

I take them to the Lord. Since writing the above, I've been reading my evening
portion, Psalm 72 to 74. Read them and see how applicable they are.

I don't know how it is, but I can seldom read scripture now without tears of joy
and gratitude. I see that to be as I am, and have been since my arrival, has
really been more conducive to improvement and progress than any other position
would have been, though in many respects it has been painful and far from what I
should myself have chosen. Oh, for more implicit reliance on the wisdom and love
of God.

He would soon need it because the young missionaries' troubles were going to get
worse. The year, 1855. Perhaps the most surprising and impressive aspect of
Hudson Taylor's first two years in China was the way he threw himself into
pioneer missionary travel.

Here he was, alone, a mere boy, barely into his twenties, in a country
unimaginably different from home, still learning the language and with virtually
no financial resources. A violent civil war raged all around, often inside of
his residence, and because foreigners had at one time or another supported both
sides in the ongoing revolution, Westerners were hated by many Chinese and
universally viewed with suspicion. Yet, despite these circumstances, Hudson
Taylor embarked on no less than ten missionary journeys in those first two
years, sometimes in company with other missionaries, but several times traveling
by himself.

Each trip was a tribute to his spiritual courage and his physical endurance.
North, South, and West of Shanghai stretched a populous region, reachable
through an intricate network of seemingly endless waterways. Junks, small
Chinese sailing vessels, were plentiful.

They afforded shelter of a sort at night, as well as transportation by day. And
boat travelers didn't have to depend on the inconvenient, dangerous, and
primitive Chinese inns. Simple cooking arrangements aboard the junks supplied
food for the boatsman's family, the crew, and guests.

Conditions were crude. The beds were just wooden boards, and the tiny windows
were often at the level of the floor. But passengers could lie down or sit on
their bedding when it was not possible to stand upright.

Though travel was slow and depended on tides and weather, millions of people
were accessible on shore in city after city, town after town. New villages were
never out of sight as the junks sailed slowly along. Most of them had never been
visited by a foreigner.

Even fewer had heard the Christian gospel. This was what drew Hudson Taylor, who
longed to follow Jesus' example by preaching throughout the countryside. He felt
the same must Jesus had expressed centuries before, when he said, I must work
the works of him that sent me.

And again, I must preach the kingdom of God to other cities also. Other sheep I
have, them also I must bring. It was not long to minister in the crowded streets
of Shanghai.

Others were already doing that to some extent. His heart was burdened with a
sense of responsibility for those beyond, those who had never even heard the
gospel of Christ, and who would never hear unless an outside messenger brought
them the message. So nothing held him back, not winter cold or summer heat or
deadly disease.

Hudson was not even daunted by the perils of war, which not only endangered the
lives of any European, but could at any time cut him off from return to the
comparative safety of the foreign settlement in Shanghai. Before Dr. Parker
arrived and in the time right afterwards, foreigners made many excursions to
places within 10 or 15 miles of Shanghai. On similar day trips during the first
three months, the new colleagues were together.

Taylor and Parker distributed 1,800 New Testaments and scripture portions, in
addition to 2,000 explanatory books and tracts. These were carefully placed only
with those who could read, and since the majority of the people were illiterate,
the message of the books was carefully explained to the constantly changing
crowds. Then, beginning in winter, the missionary team took four extended
journeys from January to March, in spite of zero-degree weather.

It seemed that everywhere they stepped ashore, the two young missionaries
automatically drew a crowd, as much to gawk at the strange-looking men in their
even stranger-looking western clothes, as to listen to their teachings. On more
than one occasion, Taylor and Parker were threatened by hostile crowds. They
were once taken captive by a band of militia who wanted to kill them, but when
the local magistrate heard their message, he ordered that they be freed and
given safe conduct to travel and preach in his city.

The welcome at most places was far more positive. Initial curiosity at the sight
of the foreigners was quickly replaced by genuine interest and friendliness, and
there was usually such an open response to their preaching that they had no
trouble giving away thousands more Chinese New Testaments and supplemental
tracts and books to those who wanted to learn more about this Jesus that they
talked about. So the young missionaries didn't know what to make of the strange
response they received on a March trip to Kaiting, a city north and west of
Shanghai, up Suzhou Creek.

As Dr. Parker reported, even grown men took refuge in their houses as we drew
near, hastily shutting the doors, to which, however, they crowded to look after
us as soon as we had passed. Realizing that the people of this city not only had
never seen foreigners, but had heard fearful tales about them, the two
missionaries walked about openly so they could be seen easily. They told
everyone who would listen to them that they were physicians who would gladly,
and free of charge, examine and treat patients the next day.

Word quickly spread that these men were doers of good deeds, and a still fearful
crowd began to follow them about the city at a distance. Before long, the crowds
had grown so large that shop fronts were in danger, and some merchandise
displayed outside was getting trampled. The missionaries had no choice but to
seek out more open sections of the city so as not to annoy the shopkeepers and
other business people.

Dr. Parker wrote about the events of the next morning. Long before breakfast,
the banks of the river were crowded with persons desiring medical aid. After
working hard until 3 p.m., finding we could not possibly see them all, Mr.
Taylor selected the more urgent cases and brought them on board the boat.

No sooner were those attended to than we were taken to see patients in their own
homes who were unable to come to us, and were much gratified to find that we had
access to, and were welcomed in, some of the very houses whose doors had been
shut against us the day before. From that day on, they met nothing but
friendliness in that city, and when they preached a parting message in a temple
near the city's west gate, many people asked them to stay. But the missionaries
journeyed on.

Everywhere they went, people wanted to know more. Hudson was just overwhelmed
and challenged by the opportunity and the need that they witnessed. From
temple-crowned hilltops and the heights of ancient pagodas, he would look down
upon cities and towns and villages where the homes of millions of people were in
sight.

Men, women, and children, who had never heard the name of the one he had come to
tell about, were ready to listen. There was so much to be done, so many people
to reach. No sooner would one journey be completed than he would begin preparing
for the next.

In April, on a journey he took with Mr. Burden, his missionary friend, whose
wife had died the year before, he found the river of Tsong Ming on an island in
the Yantze River particularly receptive. They were invited to speak in four of
the city's largest temples, much like the missionaries of the New Testament. And
in the temple of the city god, Hudson set up a temporary clinic in a side room
to care for patients while Burden kept the crowd occupied with books and
preaching in the open courtyard.

Only when his friend's voice gave out did Hudson quit doctoring and take over
the preaching. Since he wasn't as tall as his friend, he climbed atop one of the
temple's large brass incense vases and began to address the crowd. He wrote
about the experience.

At the lowest computation, five or six hundred persons must have been present,
and I do not think it would be over the mark to say a thousand. As they quieted
down, I addressed them at the top of my voice, and the more orderly, attentive
audience in the open air one could not wish to see. It was most encouraging to
hear one and another call out, as they frequently did when something said met
with their approval.

Heartening response during each trip made Hudson all the more excited about the
next. So he continued his inland trips during the sweltering months of May,
June, August, and September. Out among the crowds all day and in boats that had
to be closed at night because of river thieves, there was little relief from the
distressing heat.

Yet even that didn't slow his pace. During May alone, he traveled for
twenty-five days during which he preached in fifty-eight different cities,
fifty-one of which had never been visited by a Protestant missionary. During
this time, the Civil War reached a major turning point, as Shanghai finally fell
before the imperial government forces.

Hudson Taylor was traveling at the time with older missionaries toward Suzhou's
lake. They had only been gone a few days when, looking back toward Shanghai from
the top of a hill, they saw so much smoke they knew it could mean just one
thing. Shanghai was in flames.

Worried for the safety of the families and friends they'd left behind in the
foreign settlement, the group set out at once to return to the city. Even before
they reached Shanghai itself, their fears were confirmed by fleeing rebels who
begged for their protection. But there was nothing Hudson or his friends could
do to help them.

In fact, the men were quickly captured by imperial forces and beheaded before
the missionaries' eyes. Hurrying on toward the foreign settlement with growing
apprehension, they witnessed more evidence of terrible destruction wherever they
turned. But upon finally reaching the walls of the foreign settlement itself,
they were relieved to find it just as they had left it.

Perhaps because the imperialist troops were satiated by the slaughter they
inflicted on the rebels and the native population of Shanghai, they were too
exultant over their conquest to pay much attention to the foreigners. Hudson
Taylor wrote home in this report, Shanghai is now in peace, but it is like the
peace of death. Two thousand people at the very least have perished, and the
torture some of the victims have undergone cannot be exceeded by the worst
barbarities of the Inquisition.

The city is a little more than a mass of ruins, and many of the wretched objects
who survive are piteous to behold. But the worst of the danger was over. Hudson
Taylor and his colleagues now gave themselves to caring for the spiritual and
physical needs of Shanghai's survivors, while they waited anxiously for the
reply of their society to the suggestions for more settled work.

Having seen the opportunities and the needs firsthand, Hudson and the Parkers
prayed, asking God for a strategy that would make them most useful in China.
They concluded that their mission needed to purchase land in Shanghai. On that
day they should build medical facilities for Dr. Parker to establish a practice,
and also a permanent base from which they could launch more itinerant evangelism
ventures inland.

So, after much discussion and prayer, they wrote to the secretaries requesting
the necessary money. With the fall of Shanghai to the imperialists, the timing
became even more crucial. Now that the siege had ended and rebuilding had begun,
the local economy was set to take off.

Thousands of Chinese opportunists began pouring into the city from the
surrounding region. Their presence, plus a new influx of like-minded foreigners,
sent prices soaring once again. Months passed as the missionaries waited for
word on the request.

The heat of the summer, meanwhile, was overpowering in the crowded quarters. A
brief visit to the great coastal city of Ningpo, over a hundred miles to the
south, opened up an appealing alternative to their uncertain situation in
Shanghai. Several missionary groups in that city, sensing the need for a
hospital to supplement their otherwise effective ministries, proposed that Dr.
Parker move to that city to establish a medical work.

The different agencies represented there even pledged the financial support
needed for Dr. Parker to get started to Ningpo. Still, Hudson and the Parkers
awaited word on their proposal for establishing a permanent mission headquarters
in Shanghai. The need for an answer became even more crucial as they received
notice that the house they were sharing with another family would be needed
shortly for members of the mission to which it belonged.

And still, there were no other rooms for rent anywhere in the settlement or the
city. Finally, the answer came. But what a discouraging answer it was.

The committee had made a firm decision. They said their organization was
philosophically opposed to spending money on buildings in the ports because they
saw that their mission and that of their workers to be the evangelization of the
interior. They didn't want to be hampered by getting too rooted in the port
cities.

While the decision must have seemed a sound one from where the secretary sat on
the other side of the world, and while their missionaries in China shared the
vision for carrying the gospel into the interior, the decision did nothing to
solve the immediate problem of where they were to live until the society's
mission was feasible. Deeply disappointed by the response, Dr. and Mrs. Parker
decided to accept the offer of a new medical work in Ningpo. While Hudson
supported his friend's decision, he was left in even more uncertainty.

His colleagues were leaving. His home was gone. And with no accommodations to be
found even in the native city, how was he to remain in Shanghai to continue his
work? In the midst of his discouragement, Hudson began to develop an idea.

If he could not get a home on shore, why not take to the boats as many Chinese
did and live on the water? That would coincide nicely with something else he'd
been thinking about. He'd made up his mind that the best way to live among and
minister to the Chinese was to adopt the Chinese custom of dress. Yes, he could
see how it would work.

He would take his few belongings to Ningpo when he went to escort the Parkers
and would return to a new life in which he would identify himself completely
with the Chinese people to whom he had dedicated his life. Hudson realized that
this was a momentous decision. Adopting Chinese dress would mean shaving the
front part of his head and letting the hair grow long and back to be braided
into a regulation kiu.

No missionaries or any other foreigners conformed to such a custom. For an
occasional journey, a Chinese gown might be worn over ordinary western clothing,
but to give up European clothing altogether in favor of Chinese dress would be
another matter entirely. He would not only be criticized, his decision would
probably result in total rejection.

But it was access to the people that he desired, and his recent journey 200
miles up the Yangtze River in May had convinced Hudson that much more could be
accomplished by a tenor of evangelism than many had supposed. But the weariness
and strain of the journey had been largely due to the fact that he was wearing
European clothing, a most outlandish costume to those who had never seen it
before. Attention was continually distracted from his message by his appearance,
which to his hearers was as undignified as it was comical.

He was sure it would have been much easier if only he had been more suitably
attired from the Chinese point of view. And if it furthered his relationship
with the Chinese listeners, he decided that he didn't care what the foreign
community thought. So he ordered a Chinese outfit made for his journey to Ningpo
with the parkers and readied himself for his personal cross-cultural
transformation.

It was an August evening when Hudson went down to the river to engage the junk
that was to take the parkers on the first stage of their journey. On the way, a
Chinese stranger approached him, asking to his surprise if he was seeking a
house for rent. Would a small one do? And in the Chinese city? Near the south
gate there was such a house, but its builder had not yet quite finished, and the
construction would be done shortly, but they had run out of money.

In short, he couldn't complete the work. But if the house suited Hudson, no
deposit would be asked, and it could probably be had for an advance of six
months' rent. As if in a wonderful dream, Hudson Taylor followed his guide to
the southern part of the city, and there found a small, compact house, perfectly
new and clean, with two rooms upstairs, two on the ground floor, and a fifth
across the courtyard for servants.

Just the arrangement he needed for his work, and in the locality he would have
chosen. This last-minute answer to prayer seemed clear guidance from God that
Hudson Taylor's work in Shanghai was not yet over. That same night he visited a
Chinese barber for the beginning of his transformation from European to Chinese
fashion, and the next morning he appeared for the first time in public dressed
as a Chinese teacher, a man for the scholarly class.

It was in his new costume that he accompanied the Parkers to their new home in
Ningpo, and about which he wrote this amusing letter to his sister on August 28,
1855. My dear Amelia, by way of surprise I mean to write you a letter, for I
know that you have never received one before from a man with a long tail and a
shaven head. But lest your head should be bewildered with conjecture, I had
better tell you at once that on Thursday last, at 11 p.m., I resigned my locks
to the barber, dyed my hair a good black, and in the morning had a proper queue
plaited in with my own, and a quantity of heavy silk to lengthen it out
according to the Chinese custom.

Then in Chinese dress I set out with Dr. Parker, accompanying him about 100
miles on his way to Ningpo. This journey was made on occasion for evangelistic
work, and now that I am returning alone I hope to have even better facilities
for book distribution and preaching. But I have not yet commenced the recital of
my tribulations, and as there is some doubt as to whether they will all go into
a single letter, the sooner I begin the better.

First, then, it is a very sore thing to have one's head shaved for the first
time, especially if the skin is irritable with prickly heat. And I can assure
you that the subsequent application of hair dye for five or six hours—let's
charge one part, quick lime, freshly slacked three parts, water enough to make a
cream, etc.—does not do much to soothe the irritation. But when it comes to
combing out the remaining hair which has been allowed to grow longer than usual,
the climax is reached.

But there are no gains without pain, and certainly if suffering for the thing
makes it dearer, I shall regard my queue when I attain one with no small amount
of pride and affection. Secondly, when you proceed to your toilet, you no longer
wonder why many Chinese in the employ of Europeans wear foreign shoes and
stockings as soon as they can get them. For native socks are made of calico and
of course are not elastic, and average toes decidedly object to be squeezed out
of shape, nor do one's heels appreciate their low position in perfectly
flat-soled shoes.

Next come the breeches. But oh, what unheard-of garments! Mine are two feet too
wide for around the waist, which amplitude is laid in a fold in front and kept
in place by a strong girdle. The legs are short, not coming much below the knee,
and wide in proportion with the waist measurement.

Tucked into the long white socks, they have a bloomer-like fullness, capable, as
Dr. Parker remarked, of storing a fortnight's provisions. No shirt is worn, but
a white washing jacket with sleeves as wide as ladies affected twenty years ago
supplies its place. And overall goes a heavy silk gown of some rich or delicate
color, with sleeves equally wide and reaching twelve or fifteen inches beyond
the tips of one's fingers, folded back of course when the hands are not in use.

Unfortunately, no cap or hat is used at this season of the year, except on state
occasions, which is trying as the sun is awfully hot. Wednesday, August 29th. I
do not know, dear Amelia, whether you are weary of these details, but I have no
time for more upon the subject, so we'll dismiss it with only a mention of the
shampooing I got from the barber the other day.

I thought I had better go in for it as part of the proceedings, for I might be
in difficulty someday if found to be uninitiated. So I bore with an outrageous
tickling as long as I could, and then the beating commenced, and my back was
really sore in places before it was over. On the next occasion, however, I stood
it better, and I hope to equip myself creditably in time with regard to this
phase of the barber's art.

While still with Dr. Parker on the way to Hang Chau Bay, I was frequently
recognized as a foreigner because of having to speak to him in English, but
today, going about Haicheng City, no one even guessed that such a being was
near. It was not until I began to distribute books and see patients that I
became known. Then, of course, my men were asked where I came from, and the news
soon spread.

Dressed in this way, one is not so much respected at first sight as one might be
in foreign clothing, but a little medical work soon puts that all right, and it
is evidently to be one's chief help for the interior. Women and children, it
seems to me, manifest more readiness to come for medical aid now than they did
before, and in this way, too, I think the native costume will be of service. I
was the interior that more and more filled his thoughts and his prayers, even as
he settled into his new home in Shanghai.

Everything he did was in preparation for that calling, and in that preparation,
Hudson soon found great encouragement. In October, he wrote, Dr. Parker is in
Ninh Phu, but I am not alone. I have such a sensible presence of God with me as
I never before experienced, and such drawings to prayer and watchfulness are
very much blessed and necessary.

So it was with renewed spirits that despite the comfort of a new place of his
own and numerous opportunities all around him in Shanghai, Hudson Taylor set out
once again for the regions beyond. This time he went alone and dressed like the
Chinese people themselves, and the advantages of his new strategy became quickly
apparent. His destination on this journey was the great island and city of Tsung
Ming, which had a population of more than a million people without a single
Protestant missionary.

Hudson had been well received months before in his visit to Tsung Ming when his
friend burdened, but the reception he received this time amazed him. At his
first landing place, the people simply would not hear of his leaving. Those who
had seen foreigners before had never seen one dressed in Chinese custom.

This teacher did not seem at all like an outsider. His medicine chest attracted
them as much as his preaching, so when they learned that he would need an
upstairs room because of the dampness of the area, they said, let him live in
the temple if no other upper story can be found. But a householder stepped
forward to say that he had an empty attic apartment, so within three days of his
arrival in Tsung Ming, Hudson Taylor found himself in possession of his first
home in inland China.

After all his difficulties getting established in Shanghai, this was exciting
reassurance for the young missionary, almost as exciting as the response of the
people in Tsung Ming. Neighbors dropped in every day to the meetings, and the
stream of visitors and patients seemed unceasing. Six weeks of this encouraging
work, while it wakes some opposition on the part of the Chinese medical
fraternity, resulted in a group of regular Chinese listeners who earnestly
wanted to learn about Christianity.

One of these was a blacksmith named Chong, and another a successful businessman
whose heart, Hudson wrote, the Lord opened. Hudson's own first Chinese confer,
Gui Wa, from Shanghai, and another Christian helper were with him. So when the
missionary had to return to Shanghai for supplies, the little group of new
believers and seekers was still well cared for.

But the heartening success in Tsung Ming turned to bitter disappointment during
one of his trips back to Shanghai, where he found an official summons waiting
for him. He was to report to British consulate at once. Unknown to Hudson, a
small group of Chinese doctors and druggists in Tsung Ming had pulled some
strings.

They bribed a local official to carry to the authorities their complaints about
this foreign doctor, who was interfering with their work by accepting no payment
for his medical practice. The Chinese official did complain to the British
authorities, and the consul called Hudson in to remind him that the British
treaty with China only provided for residence in the port, and if he attempted
to settle elsewhere, he would be subject to a fine of five hundred dollars.
Hudson pleaded his case, pointing out that French priests were living in Tsung
Ming, protected by a supplemental treaty which stipulated that any immunities
granted to other nations should also apply to the British.

But the consul said that he didn't have the authority to make that ruling. Any
appeal would need to go to his supervisors. In the meantime, Hudson was ordered
out of Tsung Ming and instructed not to transgress the treaty in the future.

So it looked as if he would have to give up the successful new ministry that had
excited and encouraged him so much. And he'd also have to give up that first
home in the interior, that had seemed like such a clear sign of God's direction
and blessing on his work. Now we go to the years 1855 and 1856.

It was a frustrated, heartbroken letter Hudson Taylor wrote home that evening.
Those young inquirers at Tsung Ming, Tsung Sa, and the others, what was to
become of them? Weren't they now his own children in the faith? How could he
leave them with no help and so little Christian knowledge? He inquired in his
letter to the secretaries about his responsibilities and limitations. Forbidden
to reside on the island and finding that even traveling into the country and
remaining for a short time is an infringement of the treaty which may be visited
by a fine of five hundred dollars, I have thought it best to write privately and
inquire whether, in case I should be fined, that the society should be
responsible for the sum.

Also whether, if circumstances should make it possible for me to go to the
interior, giving up all claim to counsel or protection, you would approve my
doing so. Should I be left free to follow this course? Or would the society
object to one of their missionaries adopting such a position? Although the
attempt to rent a house and reside in Tsung Ming has met with failure, we must
be very thankful for what has been accomplished. I have every reason to hope
that three of those who profess to believe in the Lord Jesus are sincere, and if
so, the results will last to all eternity.

At the same time, it makes it all the harder to give up the work. Pray for me. I
do not want on the one hand to flee from danger, nor on the other to court
troubles, or from lack of patience to hinder future usefulness.

Hudson determined to challenge the council's ruling by taking the matter before
the British minister who was scheduled to arrive in Shanghai within weeks, but
in the meantime there was nothing to do but take his sad leave from Tsung Ming.
My heart will be truly sorrowful when I can no longer join you in the meetings,
said the Chinese blacksmith the last evening the little group was together. But
you will worship in your own home, Hudson told him.

Still shut your shop on Sunday, for God is here whether I am here or not. Get
someone to read to you, and gather your neighbors in to hear the gospel. I know
but very little, Tsung added, and when I read, I by no means understand all the
characters.

My heart is grieved because you have to leave us, but I do thank God that he
ever sent you to this place. My sins, once so heavy, are all laid on Jesus, and
he daily gives me joy and peace. Hudson returned to Shanghai, and the even more
disheartening news that the British minister was delayed.

Any hope for appeal would have to be put off. In his discouragement, Hudson
wrote his parents. Pray for me.

I need more grace, and live far below my privileges. Oh, to feel more as the
Lord Jesus Christ did when he said, I lay down my life for my sheep. I do not
want to be as a harling who flees when the wolf is near, nor would I likely run
into danger when much may be accomplished in safety.

I want to know the Lord's will, and to have grace to do it, even if it results
in expatriation. Pray for me, that I may be a follower of Christ, not in word
only, but in deed and truth. It was at this low point in his life that prayers
for encouragement, both Hudson's prayers and the prayers of those who cared
about him, were answered in a most unexpected way.

William Burns, a preacher and evangelist who had become a household name in
Scotland during the country's great revival in 1839, had also felt a call to
evangelize the interior of China. In an attempt to reach the Taiping rebel
capital of Nanking, he actually journeyed far up the Yangtze River before he was
turned back. So it was that he ended up in Shanghai where he met the young
Hudson Taylor, who was still stinging from his own recent failure.

Despite the disparity in age, the two men discovered that they were kindred
spirits, and like those New Testament missionaries Paul and Timothy, they were
drawn together in friendship as well as ministry. Soon their two boats began
traveling together over the network of waterways leading inland from Shanghai.
The older missionary had developed a strategy of his own for such work, and
Hudson gladly adopted it.

Choosing an important trade center, they might remain two or three weeks in one
place. Every morning they sat out early with a definite plan, sometimes going to
the outskirts of a city in which foreigners had rarely been seen, and from a
city's perimeter they would work their way slowly into the more crowded
quarters. So they would give several days to preaching in the suburbs, gradually
approaching the thronging streets and markets by which time they were familiar
figures and could pass about without attracting a rowdy, curious crowd that
would arouse the shopkeepers' tempers or endanger their wares.

They would also visit temples, schools, and tea shops, returning regularly to
the best places for preaching. Announcing at each meeting when they would be
there again, they were encouraged to see many of the same faces again and again,
and those interested hearers could be invited to the boats for further
conversation. Just as Hudson learned from his older friend, William Burns, also
learned from him.

As time went on, the Scottish evangelist could not fail to notice that Hudson
Taylor, though so much younger and less experienced, had the more attentive
hearers wherever they journeyed. Hudson was even asked into private houses while
he himself was often requested to wait outside. The riffraff of the crowd always
seemed to gather around the preacher in foreign dress, while those who wished to
hear undisturbed followed his less noticeable young friend.

Mr. Burns wrote about his experiences with Hudson in this letter, dated January
26, 1856. It is now 41 days since I left Shanghai on this last occasion. An
excellent young English missionary, Mr. Taylor of the Chinese Evangelization
Society, has been my companion, and we have experienced much mercy, and on some
occasions considerable help in our work.

I must once more tell the story I've had to tell more than once already, how
four weeks ago on the 29th of December, I put on Chinese dress which I am now
wearing. Mr. Taylor had made this change a few months before, and I found that
he was in consequence so much less incommitted in preaching, etc., by the crowd,
that I concluded that it was my duty to follow his example. We have a large,
very large field of labor in this region, though it might be difficult in the
meantime for one to establish himself in any one particular place.

The people listen with attention, but we need the power from on high to convince
and convert. Is there any spirit of prayer on our behalf among God's people in
Kilseth, or is there any effort to seek the spirit? How great the need is, and
how great the arguments and motives for prayer in this case. The harvest here is
indeed great, and the laborers are few and imperfectly fitted without much grace
for such a work, and yet grace can make a few feeble instruments the means of
accomplishing great things, things greater even than we can conceive.

He was mighty in the scriptures, and his greatest power in preaching was the way
in which he used the sword of the Spirit upon men's consciences and hearts.
Sometimes one might have thought in listening to his solemn appeals that one was
hearing a new chapter in the Bible when first spoken by a living prophet. His
whole life was literally a life of prayer, and his ministry a series of battles
fought at the mercy seat.

In digging in the field of the Word, he threw up now and then great nuggets
which formed part of one's spiritual wealth forever after. A cultured, genial,
and witty man who enjoyed singing, William Burns proved not only to be a
powerful spiritual role model in Hudson Taylor's life, he was a wonderfully
lively companion and friend. He loved to tell stories, was happy to share the
wisdom of his long years of experience with his young friend.

As a result, Hudson's time spent with William Burns was as instructive as any
university degree and far more practical, because William Burns lived out before
him, right there in China, the reality of all Hudson needed to be and know. If
any man have Christ in his heart, William Burns would say, heaven before his
eyes, and only as much of temporal blessings as is just needful to carry him
safely through life, then pain and sorrow have little to shoot at. To be in
union with him who is shepherd of Israel, to walk very near him who is both sun
and shield, comprehends all a poor sinner requires to make him happy between
this and heaven.

So it was that the two men worked together for seven long happy months. It was
during this time, as they continued their travels around the Shanghai region,
that a Captain Bowers, a Christian ship's captain, told them about the great
need to establish a mission in the city of Swatow. Even as the captain talked,
Hudson began to feel the calling of God to that great southern port to which no
missionaries had ever gone.

But he resisted the feeling for some time because he dreaded the thought of
parting from his friend. Finally the evening came when he could resist his sense
of calling no longer. He later wrote about the occasion.

I asked Mr. Burns to come to the little house that was still my headquarters,
and there with many tears I told him how the Lord had been leading me, and how
rebellious I had been and unwilling to leave him for this new sphere. He
listened with a strange look of surprise and pleasure rather than of pain, and
replied that he had determined that very night to tell me that he had heard the
Lord's call to Swatow, and that his one regret had been the severance of our
happy fellowship. Arriving in Swatow, the two missionaries could find only a
single room to rent over an incense shop in a crowded quarter of the city.

When Captain Bowers visited them soon afterwards, he described their situation
in a letter to a mutual friend back home. Seeking out his wretched lodging in
Swatow, amongst the degraded of every class, I remarked, Surely, Mr. Burns, you
might find a better place to live. He laughingly told me that he was more
content in the midst of this people than he would be at home surrounded by every
comfort.

He said his expenses amounted to ten dollars a month. Mr. Burns, I exclaimed,
that would not keep me in cigars. He said it was sufficient for him.

To William Burns and Hudson Taylor, ten dollars a month for a single room, even
a room they had to enter through an opening in the floor seemed like a bargain.
But if it hadn't been for their inconspicuous Chinese dress, it is doubtful that
they could have survived, let alone preach and make the friendships they did in
that violent, hostile city. Europeans were suspect in Swatow because of the
foreign involvement in the drug and slavery trade which plagued this corrupt
city and about which Hudson wrote to his family.

About 200 boxes of opium are imported monthly. Each box contains 40 balls of
about 40 pounds in weight. Thus, not less than 32,000 pounds weight of opium
enter China every month at this port alone, the cost of which is about a quarter
of a million sterling.

After this, you would not be surprised to learn that the people are wretchedly
poor, ignorant, and vicious. A cruel slave trade also is carried on under the
name of the coolie traffic. The men are engaged, nominally, for a certain term
of years, but few live to return.

A bounty is paid them, and they are told they are going to make their fortunes,
or they are entrapped by worse means. Once on the ship, the agent receives so
much a head for the poor fellows who soon find themselves in captivity of the
most horrible kind. Some jump overboard in their efforts to escape the but they
are generally retaken and flogged.

Some ships carry a thousand, and others three or four hundred, and very many die
before reaching their destination, Cuba, Havana, and Cala. Of one ship with
several hundreds on board, I heard the surgeon say that not more than two-thirds
would survive the voyage. Poor people.

In a later letter to his sister, he wrote more about the conditions he saw
around him. If ever there was a place needing the blessings of the gospel, it is
certainly this place. Men are sunk so low as to have lost all sense of shame,
lower even than the beasts that perish.

The official classes are as bad as the rest, and instead of restraint, you would
not be surprised to learn that the people are wretchedly poor, ignorant, and
vicious. A cruel slave trade also is carried on under the name of the coolie
traffic. The men are engaged, nominally, for a certain term of years, but few
live to return.

A bounty is paid them, and they are told they are going to make their fortunes,
or they are entrapped by worse means. Once on the ship, the agent receives so
much a head for the poor fellows who soon find themselves in captivity of most
horrible kind. Some jump overboard in their efforts to escape, but they are
generally retaken and flogged.

Some ships carry a thousand, and others three or four hundred, and very many die
before reaching their destination, Cuba, Havana, and Cala. Of one ship, with
several hundreds on board, I heard the surgeon say that not more than two-thirds
would survive the voyage. Poor people.

In a later letter to his sister, he wrote more about the conditions he saw
around him. If ever there was a place needing the blessings of the gospel, it is
certainly this place. Men are sunk so low as to have lost all sense of shame,
lower even than the beasts that perish.

The official classes are as bad as the rest, and instead of restraining evil,
are governed themselves by opium and love of money. And if it be possible to
live worse lives than the heathen, then the sailors and other foreigners who
frequent Double Island do so. Sin does indeed reign here, and as always, those
most to be pitied and whose case seems most helpless are the women.

However low men seek in lands, women seek lower. Looked upon as hardly having
any soul, girls are sold here for wives or slaves, and are left entirely without
education. Married women and families are not numerous in proportion to the
population, but the number of unfortunate women is great.

I say unfortunate advisedly, for they are bought and brought up for this very
purpose. They are the absolute property of their owners, and have no escape from
that which many of them abhor. Only a few nights ago I was distressed by
heart-rendering screams from two female voices, and an inquirer was told that
they were most likely newly bought women in a house nearby who were being
tortured into submission.

And that, added my informant, is very common here. The cries went on for about
two hours. Poor things! This is hardly a fit subject to write to you about, but
unless you know, how can you pity and pray for them? English women little
realize all they owe to the gospel.

It was in such a setting that Hudson Taylor and William Burns not only lived and
survived, but saw such heartening response to their message, and made so many
friends that they were able, after only four months, to rent an entire house
that would serve as the headquarters of their growing ministry. It was at this
point that the older missionary convinced Hudson to return to Shanghai for his
medical supplies in order that they could open up a hospital as part of their
work in Saitao. Hudson went, but only reluctantly.

He hated to leave the older man alone to face the oppressive heat and
accompanying diseases. Of summer, as much as he dreaded the temporary end of the
companionship that had come to mean so much to him, he recalled the time later,
saying, those happy months were an unspeakable joy and comfort to me. Never had
I had such a spiritual father as Mr. Burns.

Never did I know such holy, happy friendship. His love for the word was
delightful, and his holy, reverential life and constant communing with God made
fellowship with him to satisfy the deep cravings of my heart. But Hudson did
indeed sail for Shanghai, where he made the disheartening discovery that all his
medical supplies had been destroyed by fire, and before he could replace them
and return to Saitao, he received the even more distressing news that William
Burns had been arrested by the corrupt Chinese authorities in Saitao, and sent
under escort on the harsh 31-day journey to Canton.

Hudson himself was forbidden to return to Saitao. Suddenly, the path that had
seemed so clear before him was again blocked, and yet it was this latest
obstacle in his life's journey that sent him on a detour that he would never
once regret. This brings us to the years of 1856 through 1858.

Over the political horizon, storm clouds had been gathering for many months. Now
the very mail that brought tidings of William Burns' arrest told also of the
outbreak of hostilities between England and China. Hudson had traveled to see
Dr. Parker in Ningpo in hopes that he might have some extra medical supplies
from which he could replenish his lost equipment.

So it was at Ningpo that there came word of the bombardment of Canton by the
British fleet, and the start of the war between China and England, which was not
to end until four years later. On hearing about the news of war, Hudson's first
concern naturally was for William Burns. He was, fortunately, no longer at
Saitao, exposed to the rage of the hot-headed southern people.

About all this, Hudson wrote his sister in November. As you are aware, I have
been detained in Ningpo by various circumstances, and a sufficient cause has at
length appeared in the disturbances which have broken out in the south. The
latest news we now have is that Canton has been bombarded for two days, a breach
being made on the second, and that the British entered the city, the viceroy
refusing to give any satisfaction.

We are anxiously awaiting later and fuller accounts. I know not the merits of
the present course of action, and therefore refrain from writing my thoughts
about it. But I would just refer to the goodness of God in removing Mr. Burns
from Saitao in time, for if one may judge of the feelings of the Cantonese in
Saitao by what one sees here at present, it would go hard with anyone at their
mercy.

So once again, something that seemed a great calamity one minute, was soon seen
to be included in the all things that the Apostle Paul said worked together for
good for them that love God. And that was a lesson reinforced all the more by
yet another development during Hudson's unplanned detention in Ningpo, in the
southern section of the city, near the ancient pagoda, was a quiet street named
Bridge Street, between two lakes. There Hudson's old friend and former
colleague, Dr. Parker, had opened a dispensary a mile or two from his hospital.

It was there, as autumn was advancing, that Hudson Taylor happily found a
temporary home. Looking back on those days, he wrote, I have a distinct
remembrance of tracing my initials on the snow which during the night had
collected on my coverlet in the large barn-like upper room. The tiling of a
Chinese house may keep off the rain, if it happens to be sound, but does not
afford so good protection against snow, which will beat up through the crannies
and crevices and find its way within.

But however unfurnished may have been its fittings, the little house was well
adapted for work among the people, and there I thankfully settled, finding ample
scope for service morning, noon, and night. The only other foreigners in that
part of the city were Mr. and Mrs. J. Jones, also of the Chinese Evangelization
Society, and Miss Aldersey, who, with the help of two young English sisters, was
running a surprisingly successful school for girls, the first ever opened in
China. The sisters were the orphan daughters of the Reverend Samuel Dyer, one of
the earliest missionaries to China.

When the Jones family had come to live not far from the school, the younger of
the sisters, Marie Dyer, found many opportunities to help out and befriend the
busy young mother. Whenever she could, Maria went out with the Jones to do
neighborhood evangelism. Her fluency in the language providing a big help.

Though she was not yet twenty, this bright, gifted girl had the heart of an
evangelist. That was no doubt one of the things about Maria that attracted
Hudson Taylor's interest, for in the home of his fellow workers he couldn't help
but encounter Marie Dyer from time to time, and he soon found that he couldn't
help but think of her even when he didn't encounter her. She had such a warm and
open manner that the two young people soon became good friends, and before long
she began to fill a place in his heart that had never been filled before.

But before he was willing to admit his feelings, even to himself, outside
circumstances interrupted their blossoming friendship. A plot to massacre all
foreigners was discovered. Though the plan was thwarted, hostility among the
region's Cantonese population toward the British was so widespread that the
foreign community couldn't afford to ignore the danger.

So it was decided that families with children would be sent to Shanghai, the
port with the most secure foreign settlement. Hudson's familiarity with the
Shanghai dialect made him the most logical escort for the party. As much as he
hated to leave, he couldn't very well refuse the unwanted assignment.

Miss Aldersey could not be persuaded to leave Ningpu. Nearing retirement age,
she was in the process of turning the management of her school over to the
American Presbyterian Mission and didn't want any additional unnecessary
disruptions. So, taking what precautions were possible, she encouraged the Dyer
sisters to remain in Ningpu with her.

And since Maria's sister had just become engaged to his own special friend J.S.
Burden, Hudson worried that Maria would feel all the more alone and unprotected.
Yet, before he left for Shanghai, Hudson said nothing to Maria or to anyone else
about his growing affection. Indeed, he tried to deny it, for he had no reason
to believe that she felt the same way about him, and he wasn't anxious to have
his heart broken again.

In addition, his time in China had showed him the kind of sacrifices required to
carry out his call to evangelize the interior, and he had begun to realize
lately how little security he had to offer a wife. His position with the Chinese
Evangelization Society was becoming more and more embarrassing. For some time,
he had known that the society was in debt and that his salary was being paid
from borrowed funds.

Recalling the circumstances, he later wrote, Personally, I had always avoided
debt, though at times only by very careful economy. Now there was no difficulty
in doing this, for my income was larger, but the society itself was in debt. The
quarterly bills which I and others were instructed to draw were often met with
borrowed money, and a correspondence commenced which terminated in the following
year by my resigning from conscientious motives.

To me, it seemed that the teaching of God's word was unmistakably clear. Oh, no
man, anything. To borrow money implied to my mind a contradiction of scripture,
a confession that God has withheld some good thing, and a determination to get
for ourselves what he has not given.

Could that which was wrong for one Christian be right for an association of
Christians? Or could any amount of precedence make a wrong course justifiable?
If the word taught me anything, it taught me to have no connection with debt. I
could not think that God was poor, that he was short of resources, or unwilling
to supply any want of whatever work was really his. It seemed to me that if
there were lack of funds to carry on work, then to that degree, in that special
development, or at that time, it could not be the work of God.

To satisfy my conscience, I was therefore compelled to resign my connection with
the society. It was a great satisfaction to me that my friend and colleague, Mr.
Jones, was led to take the same step, and we were both profoundly thankful that
the separation took place without the least breach of friendly feeling on either
side. The step we had taken was not a little trying to faith.

I was not at all sure what God would have me to do, or whether he would so meet
my need as to enable me to continue working as before. But God blessed and
prospered me, and how glad and thankful I felt when the separation was really
effected. I could look right up into my father's face with a satisfied heart,
ready by his grace to do the next things as he might teach me, and feeling very
sure of his loving care.

And how blessedly he did lead me, I can never, never tell. It was like a
continuation of some of my earlier experiences at home. My faith was not
untried.

It often, often failed, and I was so sorry and ashamed of the failure to trust
such a father. But, oh, I was learning to know him. I would not even then have
missed the trial.

He became so near, so real, so intimate. The occasional difficulty about funds
never came from any insufficient supply for personal need, but in consequence of
ministering to the wants of scores of the hungry and dying around us. And trials
far more searching in other ways quite eclipsed these difficulties, and being
deeper brought forth, and in consequence, richer fruits.

That winter thousands of homeless refugees poured into Shanghai from districts
devastated by the ongoing Taiping Rebellion. Some of these sick, starving, often
naked refugees lived in cemeteries where they found shelter by breaking into
low-arched tombs. Others crowded into any abandoned building, even those in
ruins.

And although Hudson took charge of one of the chapels of the London Mission and
preached daily in the City Temple, he went regularly into the haunts of misery
to care for sick refugees and to feed many of the hungry. But no matter how busy
he was, Hudson's thoughts turned constantly to Ning Po. Could God be in the
feelings he was having? He had to be sure.

Back in Ning Po, unknown to Hudson, the one he loved was thinking just as much
about him. And though Maria also prayed about her own growing feelings, she told
no one but God, for she realized that no one else saw what she saw in Hudson
Taylor. He was different from others, not more gifted or attractive, though he
was bright, pleasant, and seemed to be fun-loving.

There was just something about him that made her feel rested and understood. He
seemed to live in such a real world and have such a real great God. Though she
hadn't seen that much of him during his time in Ning Po, she was startled to
find how much she missed him when he left for Shanghai.

She heard others criticize his Chinese dress, but she loved it. At least she
loved what it represented of his spirit. She also respected his poverty and
generous giving to the destitute.

His vision to take the gospel to the interior was her vision as well, though it
seemed so impractical for a woman. So she thought and prayed about her friend
during that long winter he was away in Shanghai, even though she had no
assurance of his feeling for her. Love finally conquered the silence.

Hudson sent Maria a letter declaring his feelings and asking if she would
consent to become engaged. The first thing Maria did when she got the letter was
to search out her sister and share her wonderful news. Then the two of them went
to talk to Miss Alderzee, whose response was indignant.

Mr. Taylor, that young, poor, unconnected nobody! How dare he presume to think
of such a thing! Of course the proposal must be refused at once, and that
finally! Maria tried to explain how much she felt for him, and that only made
matters worse. Miss Alderzee decided Maria must be saved from such folly. The
result was a letter, dictated by Miss Alderzee, but written by Maria, not only
closing the matter but requesting most decidedly that it might never be
reopened.

Bewildered and heartbroken, Maria felt she had no choice. She was too young and
inexperienced and too shy in such matters to stand up against Miss Alderzee's
decision, and in the long, lonely days that followed, even when her sister was
won over to Miss Alderzee's position, she prayed with a determined faith that
nothing, nothing at all was too hard for the Lord. If he has to slay my Isaac,
she assured herself again and again, I know he can restore.

Yet she wondered if she would ever see Hudson again. When Hudson did return to
Ningpo that spring, the situation grew even more painful. Hudson, after the
letter he received from Maria, could not attempt to see her, yet his feelings
for her remained unchanged, and she had no way to let him know that the letter
she had written wasn't any indication of her true emotions.

Meanwhile, Miss Alderzee, distressed of Hudson Taylor's reappearance, felt it
her duty to disparage him in every possible way, not just to Maria, but
throughout the foreign community in Ningpo. His Chinese dress became the object
of criticism and scorn, and his new status as independent missionary, not
connected to any recognized mission, made him an even better target for
criticism. He was accused of being called by no one, connected with no one, and
recognized by no one as the minister of the gospel.

Other insinuations soon followed. He was fanatical, undependable, diseased in
body and mind, and totally worthless. As a gifted and attractive young woman,
Maria had no lack of other suitors who were openly encouraged by Miss Alderzee.

At the same time, Chinese etiquette, combined with his intention to honor the
request of her letter, made it look impossible for Hudson to meet with Maria.
Yet both young people continued praying for some indication of God's will. Then
one sultry day in July, at the end of an afternoon prayer meeting of missionary
women at the Jones' house, a storm swept up the Tidal River and deluged Ningpo
with sudden torrents of rain.

Those women who hadn't left included Marie Dyer and one of her closest friends,
and they could do nothing but wait until the storm blew over. When Mr. Jones and
Hudson returned to the house from the dispensary next door, to learn that Maria
and her companion were still waiting for sedan chairs, Hudson's friend, who knew
about his feelings for Maria, said to him, Go into my study and I will see what
can be arranged. A short while later, Hudson's friend came downstairs to tell
him that Maria and her friend were now the only ladies left.

They were alone with Mrs. Jones and would be glad to see him. Hardly believing
his good fortune, his heart pounding in anticipation, Hudson went upstairs to
see Maria for the first time in months. He saw nothing in the room but her face,
and when he asked her permission to write to her guardian back in England, she
quickly and eagerly consented.

At the same time, she let him know she felt the same love for him that he'd
expressed for her. They recognized the obstacles still before them, but they
determined together to keep praying for God's leading in their situation.
Finally, knowing the truth of their mutual love brought indescribable joy to the
young couple, but it did nothing for their patience as they waited for a
response to Hudson's letter to Maria's uncle, and it made the continuance of
Miss Aldersey's enforced separation seem all the more trying.

Four months stretched out like an eternity, especially when they knew Miss
Aldersey had written home with the same accusation she'd been voicing around
Ning Po. What if Maria's uncle was persuaded by her charges? What if he refused
his consent to the marriage? Both young people felt that God's blessing depended
on their obedience to those in parental authority. Taylor wrote later, I've
never known disobedience to the definite command of a parent, even if that
parent was mistaken.

This was followed by retribution. The responsibility is with the parent in such
a case, and it is a serious one. When the son or daughter can say in all
sincerity, I am waiting for thee, Lord, to open the way.

The matter is in his hands, and he will take it up. One day near the end of
November, patience and faith were both rewarded. The letter arrived.

After careful inquiry, Maria's uncle in London had satisfied himself that Hudson
Taylor was a missionary of unusual promise. The secretaries of the Chinese
Evangelization Society had nothing but good to say of him, and he got nothing
but praise from other sources. So dismissing the unfair criticism for what it
was, he cordially consented to his niece's engagement, requesting only that the
marriage be delayed until she became of age.

Her twenty-first birthday would be less than two months away. Hudson could
scarcely contain his excitement. He had to tell Maria the news, but how? Under
the circumstances, he couldn't rush to the school and ask to see her.

There was, in fact, no place at the school appropriate for a private meeting to
discuss their plans, and his own home was out of the question as well. But when
one of the missionary wives from the American Baptist Mission Board heard of his
dilemma, she devised a plan to get the couple together. She lived in a quiet
place outside the city wall and close to the river.

She would send a note to the school asking Maria to visit her at her home, and
if somebody else just happened to be there when she arrived, well, such things
happen. So it was in Miss Knowlton's drawing room that Hudson waited while a
messenger crossed the river to the school. Finally, he heard Maria's voice in
the hall.

The door opened, and they were together, alone for the first time. More than 40
years later, Hudson Taylor said of that moment, we sat side by side on the sofa,
her hand clasped in mine. It never cooled, my love for her, and it is not cooled
now.

Once they were publicly and officially engaged, they began making up for all the
time they had been kept apart. Maria's birthday was on January 16, so the
wedding was planned for the following week. Several times that winter, Hudson
Taylor's finances dwindled to almost nothing.

Once his funds were down to one twentieth of a cent before an unexpected
shipment of mail arrived with additional funds from supporters back home.
Encouraged as he was by such last-minute provision for his needs, he realized
again how little he had to offer a wife. He explained his precarious financial
situation to Maria, saying, I cannot hold you to your promise if you would
rather draw back.

You see how difficult our life may be at times. Have you forgotten, she
interrupted, I was left an orphan in a far-off land. God has been my father all
these years.

Do you think I should be afraid to trust him now? My heart did sing for joy,
Hudson said, recalling the story, and his excitement is obvious in the letter he
penned to his mother. I never felt in better health or spirits in my life. I can
scarcely realize, dear mother, what has happened, that after all the agony and
suspense we have suffered, we are not only at the liberty to meet and to be much
with each other, but within a few days we are to be married.

God has been so good to us. He has indeed answered our prayer and taken our part
against the mighty. Oh, may we walk more closely with him and serve him more
faithfully.

I wish you knew, my precious one, she is such a treasure. She is all that I
desire. And then six weeks later, oh, to be married to the one you do love, and
love most tenderly and devotedly.

That is bliss beyond the power of words to express or imagination to conceive.
There is no disappointment there. And every day as it shows more of the mind of
your beloved, when you have such a treasure as mine, makes you only more proud,
more happy, more humbly thankful to the giver of all good for these best of
earthly gifts.

The year 1858 and 1859. In the first months after their wedding, Hudson and
Maria Taylor broke ground for a small home and headquarters in a rural district
a few miles out of Ningpo. Surrounded by a large fishing population, they spent
a happy month preaching of Christ to people who had never heard the gospel.

When they both contracted a fever, which turned out to be typhoid, and they were
forced to move back to the city to recuperate and find lodging for the hot
summer months in some place where they wouldn't have to sleep on the ground
floor. So it was that the little house on Bridge Street, where Hudson had lived
for a time as a bachelor, became a real home. Downstairs, the chapel and guest
hall remained the same, and the Chinese Christians and inquirers came and went
freely.

But upstairs, the barn-like attic was transformed into cheery little rooms whose
curtained windows looking out on the narrow street in front and the canal
behind. Marie Taylor, having lived in that neighborhood for five years, had
friends everywhere among the people. Hudson soon realized what an advantage it
was to their ministry that women and children could now be evangelized along
with the men.

And since all the world loves a lover, the obvious affection and warmth
evidenced by this young couple attracted old and new friends alike to the
fellowship of their home. One of their dearest friends and helpers was an
ex-Buddhist leader, a cotton merchant named Mr. Nee. He had lived in Ningpo many
years and was a deeply religious man.

He spent much of his time and money in service to the gods, yet he was satisfied
by the religions he studied and taught to others. Then, passing an open door on
the street one evening, he heard a bell being rung and saw people assembling as
if for a meeting. Learning that it was a hall for the discussion of religious
matters, he too went in.

Leading the meeting was a young foreigner in Chinese dress preaching from his
sacred classics. The young man seemed at home in the Ningpo dialect, and Mr. Nee
could understand every word of the passage he read. But what was its meaning? As
Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so the Son of Man men be
lifted up.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoso
believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not
his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him
might be saved." Mr. Nee was both puzzled and moved by what he heard. Saved, not
condemned? A way to find everlasting life? A God who loved the world? The
meeting came to a close.

The foreign teacher ceased speaking, and with the instinct of one accustomed to
lead in such matters, Nee rose in his place, looking around at the audience and
said simply, I have long sought the truth, but without finding it. I have
traveled far and near, but have never searched it out. In Confucianism,
Buddhism, Taoism, I have found no rest.

But I do find rest in what we have heard tonight. Henceforth, I am a believer in
Jesus. This new believer became an ardent student of the Bible.

The rapid spiritual growth which resulted was a great encouragement to the
Taylors. Not long after his conversion, he obtained permission to address a
meeting of the religious society over which he had formerly presided. Hudson
accompanied Mr. Nee on this occasion and was deeply impressed by the clarity and
the conviction with which he preached.

And when one of his former followers was led to Christ through his testimony,
Hudson shared Mr. Nee's excitement of becoming a soul winner. One day, while
talking with his missionary friend, Mr. Nee raised the question, How long have
you had the glad tidings in your country? Some hundreds of years, Hudson
replied. What? Hundreds of years? My father sought the truth.

He continually, sadly, and died without finding it. Oh, why did you not come
sooner? It was a painful moment which Hudson Taylor would never forget, and he
deepened his sense of calling. There was so much work to be done.

He must still take the message of Christ into the interior of China, where
millions and millions still died every year without having heard the good news.
It was easy for Hudson to grow impatient with the work. What he really needed
was more help.

He was tempted by the prospect of hiring some of the new Chinese Christians to
assist him full time. Already Mr. Nee was eagerly devoting all the time he could
spare from his business. So were others from the growing band of converts.

Ning Qi, the basket maker, Wang, the farmer of Hussie, and Tussie, the teacher.
Though they and others were all occupied in their necessary vocations through
the day, they often came to the mission house in the evening and spent much time
there on Sundays. It would have been easy to employ the Christian teacher in the
school to which Maria Taylor was giving many hours daily, or to take on others
at a modest salary to train them for positions of usefulness.

But the Taylors decided that doing so, while it might prove a short-term help,
could well be a hindrance to their goals in the long run. To pay young converts,
however sincere, for making known the gospel, and to pay them with money from
foreign sources, would surely weaken their influence in the community, and
perhaps also weaken their Christian character. How were the converts ever to
know the joy of unpaid voluntary service, service out of love for the Lord,
unless the missionaries could be patient and wait for their spiritual
development? So Hudson and Maria hoped and prayed that the time would soon come
when the call of God into Christian service would become obvious to some of the
Chinese Christians, and that when it happened, the other Chinese Christians
would themselves be ready and willing to support them.

How was China to be evangelized but by the Chinese church? In the meantime, the
workload for the young missionaries became a never-ending challenge. Life was
full and overflowing with both responsibilities and opportunities. Hudson
himself did quite a bit of medical practice, as well as regular preaching in the
streets and in the chapel, receiving visitors, attending to correspondence and
accounts, and continuing evangelistic excursions into the surrounding
countryside.

None of those duties were allowed to interfere with what had become his chief
task, the daily shepherding of his small but growing flock. After the regular
public meeting every evening, three separate periods were devoted to carefully
prepared study. To begin, Hudson would teach a lesson from the Old Testament.

Then, after a time, a chapter was read from Pilgrim's Progress or some other
helpful Christian book. And finally, a passage of the New Testament would be
discussed and applied to daily life. This regular nightly schedule for the small
band of Chinese believers led up to Sunday with its special services for worship
and for reaching outsiders.

Sunday had its times of teaching too, for Hudson Taylor and his colleagues knew
that it cost the Chinese Christians dearly to close up shop and store on the
first day of the week. They wanted to make the most of the time and sacrifice of
the new converts. So, between the regular services, Christians, inquirers,
patients, school children, and servants were divided into classes and taught
according to their particular needs.

This made Sunday a heavy day for the missionaries, for there were only four of
them, the Taylors and the Joneses, to share the great load. But there was
something unmistakable, almost tangible, about their spirit of service and love
for the people. It drew more and more people to the Bridge Street Fellowship.

Those who came brought others who also sensed the difference in that place, a
difference one new visitor recognized when he asked the friend who had brought
him, why does my heart feel so much wider when I come into these doors? Perhaps
it was because the Taylors' own hearts were as wide open as the doors of their
mission to the people around them, for their ministry grew and the promise of an
even greater ministry grew with it. The Treaty of Tien Sin, signed in the summer
after Hudson and Maria's marriage, opened the way at last to all of the inland
prophecies. Foreigners now had the right to travel freely under the protection
of passports.

Inland China, which Hudson had prayed for for so long, was now within reach, and
yet more patience was required. He wrote home in November, You will have heard
before this all about the new treaty. We may be losing some of our Ningpo
missionaries who will go inland, and oh, will not the Church at home awaken and
send us out more to publish the glad tidings? Many of us long to go, and how we
long to go, but there are duties and ties that bind us that none but the Lord
can unloose.

May He give gifts to many of the native Christians, qualifying them for the care
of the churches already formed, and thus set us free for pioneering work. As
anxious as Hudson and Maria both were to take the message of Christ to the
interior, they each felt a prior commitment to the care and nurture of the small
band of Ningpo Christians at Bridge Street. Leaving them now, even for the good
of others, would have been like a parent abandoning their children in the
wilderness.

Later years proved the wisdom of this decision. Many of these same poor and
unlearned Chinese Christians were to become leaders and evangelists among their
own people, and provided invaluable service to Hudson Taylor and his life's
work. But at this time, the Taylors' excitement over the spiritual and numerical
growth of their little band of believers was mixed with an impatience to fulfill
their greater calling to the vast reaches of inland China.

Despite the open door to the interior, and the changing tides of the ongoing
war, perhaps in part because of these factors, the widespread attitude toward
foreigners remained hostile. The outrages of the coolie trade had spread
northward, and antagonized many people around Ningpo who heard tales of devil
foreigners kidnapping men and boys and shipping them off to far-off lands, never
to be seen again. And while neighbors and friends might quickly come to the
defense of the Taylors, the missionaries lived constantly with the threat that
some rabble-rouser might one day incite a riot crowd to take vengeance on any
Europeans to be found.

It had happened before in other cities, and given the underlying mood of the
country was almost certain to happen again. While there wasn't much they could
do for protection, the Taylors did keep a boat moored on the canal at the back
door of their house, and the rope was kept firmly tied by their bedroom window
that would allow them to escape to the canal under cover of darkness if
necessary. Such was the political situation during the second summer after
Hudson and Maria were married, when after nine long months of expected waiting,
their first child was born.

They named her Grace. The thermometer read 104 degrees in the coolest part of
the house on July 31, 1859, the day that the little one was born. And only once
in the week that followed did the temperature drop below 88 degrees.

That was at midnight during a thunderstorm. The political climate remained just
as hot. Surging crowds around the mission house had almost rioted a few days
before.

Cries of, Beat the foreigners! and Kill the foreign devils! filled the air. No
one had beaten down the doors as easy as that would have been. Despite the
continuing sense of danger, fear wasn't the feeling expressed in Hudson's next
letter to home.

Instead he wrote, My dear parents, though this is the Lord's day, I find myself
able to pin a few lines which will no doubt surprise you as much as it does
myself. The reason is that I am at home taking care of my wife and baby girl,
your first grandchild. Oh, my dear parents, God has been so good to me, to us
all, better far than my fears.

Oh, magnify the Lord with me and let us exalt his name together. Though it was
still some time before the period of dangerous unrest finally passed, the
Taylors' joy over their new baby brought a wondrous new feeling of family into
their lives. Yet even in this time of personal joy, there came a sad and
unexpected occurrence which added greatly to Hudson Taylor's responsibilities
and rooted him still deeper in his ministry at Ningpo.

Hudson's former colleague, Dr. Parker, had recently completed construction of
his new hospital. Located strategically near one of the city gates overlooking
the river, its impressive buildings attracted the notice of thousands daily. For
the good doctor who had suffered with Hudson through their difficult beginnings
in China, it was the wonderful culmination of years of patient work.

The hospital, built to accommodate the needs of the foreign community as well as
the doctor's Chinese practice, promised to be the foundation of the Parker's
ministry for years to come. But suddenly, the doctor's wife was stricken with a
fever. Within hours, she died, leaving her grief-stricken husband with the
responsibility of caring for their four small children, one of them seriously
ill.

Dr. Parker saw no alternative but to take his children home to Scotland. But
what was to be done about his hospital? The wards were full of patients and the
dispensary was crowded day after day with a steady stream of people needing
medical help. No other doctor was free to take his place, and yet to close down
with winter coming was unthinkable.

To complicate things even further, there was no surplus of funds he could leave
to continue the work. Yet, he couldn't bear to see all his years of hard work
and preparation go to waste. Perhaps his young friend Hudson Taylor could carry
on at least the dispensary portion of the work as a medical ministry to the
local Chinese community.

That was the proposition he laid before Hudson, who later recalled the
experience. After waiting upon the Lord for guidance, I felt constrained to
undertake not only the dispensary, but the hospital as well. Relying solely on
the faithfulness of a prayer-hearing God to furnish means for its support.

At times there were no fewer than 50 inpatients besides a large number who
attended the dispensary. 30 beds were ordinarily allotted to free patients and
their attendants, and about as many more to opium smokers who paid their board
while being cured of the habit. As all the wants of the sick in the wards were
supplied gratuitously, as well as the medical supplies needed for the outpatient
department, the daily expenses were considerable.

Hospital attendants also were required, involving their support. The funds for
the maintenance of all this had previously been supplied by the doctor's foreign
practice. With his departure, this source of income ceased.

But had not God said that whatever we ask in the name of the Lord Jesus shall be
done? And are we not told to seek first the kingdom of God, not means to advance
it, and that all these things shall be added to us? Such promises were surely
sufficient. Since resigning from the mission which had sent him to China, Hudson
had many opportunities to exercise that faith he had tried to build up during
those years of preparation back in England, days which now seemed a lifetime ago
and worlds away. And he was learning that God was just as faithful in China as
he had been in England, where half a sovereign arrived in the mail the morning
after Hudson had given his last coin to a starving family, and where Dr. Hardy's
wealthy patient just happened to drop by to pay his bill at ten o'clock at night
in cash.

Just one illustration of God's faithfulness needs to be told here. Back when
Hudson had been preparing to move from Shanghai to Swatow.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 3: HUDSON TAYLOR'S SPIRITUAL SECRETS #3
========================================================================

To develop the work he and William Burns had begun there, a Chinese servant he
had hired to oversee the transportation of his household possessions disappeared
with all of Hudson's earthly belongings. While by most standards the loss wasn't
great, he estimated it at about 40 pounds, it came at a time when Hudson was
practically penniless and had no resources with which to replenish even the bare
necessities for his survival and continued ministry in China. Acquaintances had
urged him to inform the proper authorities and have the man punished severely,
but Hudson, who remained hopeful that the man would yet turn to God and repent,
took a different course which he described in the letter home.

So I have sent him a plain, faithful letter to the effect that we know his guilt
and what its consequences might be to himself, that at first I had considered
handing over the matter to the Ya' men, the authorities, but remembering
Christ's command to return good for evil, I have not done so and did not wish to
injure a hair on his head. I told him that he was the real loser, not I, that I
freely forgave him and besought him more earnestly than ever to flee from the
wrath to come. I also added that though it was not likely he would give up such
of my possessions as were serviceable to a Chinese, there were among them
foreign books and papers that could be of no earthly use to him but were very
valuable to me and that those at least he ought to send back.

If only his conscience might be moved and his soul saved, how infinitely more
important that would be than the recovery of all I have lost. Do pray for him.
Sometime later, a copy of this letter Hudson had sent to friends in England came
into the hands of George Mueller, the great man of faith and founder of the
orphan homes in Bristol, England.

Mueller was so impressed by the Christlike spirit of this young missionary he
had never heard of that he immediately sent to China a donation sufficient to
cover Hudson's losses and continued to be a regular and generous supporter of
Hudson's ministry as long as he lived. But long before the gift from George
Mueller arrived, in fact, no sooner than he had written to forgive the man who
had stolen from him, the mail arrived with a letter from Hudson's dear friend
back in England, the Burgers. Please accept the enclosed, Mr. Burger wrote, as a
token of love from myself and my dear wife.

Inside was a check for 40 pounds. Having experienced God's faithfulness in such
past situations, Hudson remained confident even as he wrote. Eight days before
entering upon the care of the Ning Po Hospital, I had not the remotest idea of
ever doing so.

Still less could friends at home have foreseen the need, and those needs were
many. Right away, Hudson's informed the hired assistants who had been working
for Dr. Parker that when the current funds expired at the end of the month, the
financial support for the hospital would have to be provided by God. When many
of them accepted his permission to find other work, Hudson was suddenly in as
much need of a staff as he was of money.

But when he shared this need with the Bridge Street Christians, many of them
quickly volunteered their services. While the hospital's former employees
weren't ready to believe in prayer as the minister's only resource, the prospect
didn't seem to bother Hudson's friends at all. Hadn't their teacher been telling
them that God was a real father who would never forget his children's needs?
They gladly threw themselves into the volunteer work of the hospital, and the
little fellowship of Christians immediately adopted the hospital and its
concerns in prayer.

There were few secrets in China, and the financial circumstances of the hospital
in Ning Po was no secret. In almost no time after Hudson had informed the old
staff of the truth of the situation, the patients knew all about it. Soon the
community at large had heard, and everyone waited to see what would happen.

Years passed, what little money had been left by Dr. Parker was expended, and
Hudson's own supplies began to run low. There was much conjecture around town
concerning the hospital's future. Naturally, Hudson and Maria, along with their
Christian friends, were continuously in prayer about it.

Hudson realized that this was a crucial test, with not just the continuation of
the hospital, but also the faith of many young believers at stake. Day after day
went by with no answer to their prayers. Finally, the morning came when Gui Wa,
the cook, appeared with serious news for Hudson.

The very last bag of rice had been opened, and was disappearing rapidly. Then,
Hudson replied, the Lord's time for helping us must be close at hand. And so it
was.

For before that bag of rice was finished, a letter reached the young missionary
that was among the most remarkable he had ever received. It was from Mr. Berger,
and as before, it contained a check, this time for fifty pounds. But this letter
went on to say that a heavy burden had come upon the writer, the burden of
wealth he wanted to use for God.

Mr. Berger's father had recently passed away, leaving him a considerable
increase of fortune. The son wrote that since he had already had all the money
required by his own needs, he was praying for guidance to know how the Lord
might use this inherited money. Could his friends in China help him? The draft
and close was for immediate needs, but he wanted them to pray about the matter,
and let him know if there was any way they could profitably use more.

Fifty pounds. There it lay on the table, and his far-off friend, knowing nothing
about the last bag of rice or the many needs of the hospital, actually asked if
he might send them more. Hudson Taylor was overwhelmed with thankfulness and
awe.

Suppose he had turned down Dr. Parker's offer to take over the hospital because
of his lack of finances, or lack of faith. What a joyful celebration of praise
the Taylors and their Christian friends had that day, and the patients marveled
at the miracle. Many of them said, where is the idol that can do anything like
that? Have they ever delivered us in our troubles, or answered prayers like
this? 1860 to 1865.

Though the new hospital ministry was encouraging for Hudson and Maria, it also
meant extra work and responsibility. When added to their already busy schedule,
it took a serious toll on their time, energy, and health. Soon after they
assumed the management of the hospital, Maria wrote a letter to her husband's
family back in England.

Hudson has again been prevented from writing to you, which makes the fourth
fortnightly mail since he was able to send off a letter. I hope you will not, I
know you will not, begin to think that this dear, his dear little daughter is
winning his heart away from his beloved parents. If he could steal some hours
from the night, he would do so, as he often has before, but his occupations
leave him none to steal.

He comes upstairs usually between ten and eleven o'clock, tired out with the
long day's work, and after resting a little, down he goes again to see some of
his patients, or make up medicines for others. Some months later, his own energy
is draining, even as the need and the opportunities for evangelism in China seem
to multiply. Hudson shared his own concern for needed assistance in a letter to
his father.

People are perishing, and God is so blessing the work, but we are wearing down,
and must have help. Do you know of any earnest, devoted young men, desirous of
serving God in China, who not wishing for more than their actual support, would
be willing to come out and labor here? Or for four or five such helpers? They
would probably begin to preach in Chinese in six months' time, and an answer to
prayer of the means for support would be found. Six years of ceaseless labor,
under the most difficult emotional and physical conditions, had finally eroded
Hudson Taylor's health.

In the year of 1860, he and Maria took a ten-day vacation in the country, hoping
he'd be rejuvenated. When they returned to the hospital, the work continued to
sap his energy. Hudson began to suspect that he might be suffering from
tuberculosis.

In May, he wrote home to his family. What I desire to know is how I might best
serve China. If I am too ill to labor here, and by returning home might
reestablish health, if only for a time, or if I might rouse others to take up
the work I can no longer continue, I think I ought to try.

The next month, as his health continued to decline, he wrote again saying, I
trust, if it is the will of God, that I may be spared to labor for China. If
not, all is well. Sometimes I think I may not live to see you.

Sometimes I hope to be spared to labor long and more earnestly than ever for
China. All in all is known to him who needs to know all, and he will do all
things well. Hudson grew weaker, so the tailors sadly closed the Ningpo Hospital
and headed for Shanghai to book passage on a ship back to England.

Leaving the Joneses to watch over their growing congregation of new Ningpo
Christians, the tailors planned to do what they could at home to stir up
increased interest and concern for China. They prayed that their furlough from
China would be short, and that the proper medical care Hudson soon would be
strong enough to return to the work that he had begun. But after a grueling
round-the-world voyage home, prospects for the future were not encouraging.

Though it looked as though Hudson would eventually recover from his illness, his
doctors told him he would never be strong enough to live and work in China
again. Hudson, refusing to accept their prognosis, continued to hope, pray, and
to work for the day that he could return to China, and in the meantime he
determined to do everything he could in England to contribute to Chinese
missionary work. He helped raise money for the Joneses and the ongoing work in
Ningpo by writing many letters to would-be supporters, explaining to them what
was happening in China.

And with the blessing and support of the Bible Society, Hudson began the task of
revising the Romanized version of the New Testament in the Ningpo dialect. While
in China, the tailors had found that it was much easier for less educated
Chinese to read and understand Chinese translations of books and scriptures,
which use a Western alphabet system with its 26 letters, than to understand true
Chinese writing with its thousands of characters. And when his health finally
permitted it, Hudson resumed his medical studies in London in hopes that if the
time came when he could indeed return to China, he'd be even more useful as a
fully qualified physician.

The appeal he made for four or five new missionaries before he left China had
stirred much interest back in England. So for a time after arriving home, Hudson
spent considerable time corresponding with a number of potential candidates.
Only one young man finally went, James Meadows, and then not until 1862.

But he was so much better prepared than Hudson Taylor had gone nearly ten years
before. Hudson not only spent time orienting him before he left, but he
undertook responsibility for the young man's financial support as well. And
because he'd not forgotten the lessons of his first years in China, Hudson made
sure James Meadows was dependably supplied with regular and sufficient support
for his work.

The flurry of interest in China, which was stirred up by Hudson and Maria's
return, soon faded. And because of the uncertainty of their future, the Taylors
felt forgotten, half a world away from the work that they longed to do, living
on a dreary street in a poor section of London's east side. Hudson, at age 29,
and Maria, at 24, must have felt at times as if life was passing them by as they
lived in limbo, wondering what the future would hold.

Not that their life in London was uneventful or unproductive. Their little
daughter became a big sister to three younger brothers. And the Taylors learned
more lessons in faith as they faced the constant challenge of trying to raise a
growing active family on their very limited income.

Then there was the ongoing work of the Ningpo New Testament. Hudson had decided
that the translation would be even more helpful if it would be included marginal
references and commentary in addition to the scriptural text. Fortunately, he
had the assistance of another veteran missionary to China from another mission
society, and he had the invaluable services of Wang Lijun, a Chinese Christian
who had voluntarily left his family and traveled back to England with the
Taylors to help them on the journey for as long as he could be useful.

Hudson and Lijun spent countless hours in Bible study and translation. A short
excerpt from Hudson's journal shows the priority that he placed on the task.
April 27, revision, 7 hours.

April 28, 9 1⁄2 hours. 29, 11 hours. 30, 5 1⁄2 hours, Baptist Missionary Society
meetings.

May 1, revision, 8 1⁄2 hours, visitors until 10 p.m. May 2, 13 hours. May 3,
Sunday at Bayswater, in the morning heard Mr. Lewis from John 333 took the
communion there in the afternoon. Evening, stayed at home and engaged in prayer
about our Chinese work.

May 4, revision, 4 hours, correspondence and visitors. 5, 11 1⁄2 hours. May 6, 7
hours, important interviews.

May 7, 9 1⁄2 hours. May 8, 10 1⁄2 hours. May 9, 13 hours.

May 10, Sunday morning with Lijun, on Hebrews 11, first part, a happy season.
Wrote to James Meadows. Afternoon, prayer with Maria about leaving this house.

About Meadows, true love, revision, etc. Wrote to Mr. Lord. Evening, heard Mr.
Kennedy on Matthew 27, 42.

Quote, he saved others, himself he cannot save. Quote, oh, to be more like the
meek, forbearing, loving Jesus. Lord, make me more like Thee.

The meetings and interviews referred to in this journal were a big part of
Hudson's work at that time. He was doing everything he could to convince
denominational boards and existing mission societies to expand their efforts in
China. He explained about the unprecedented opportunities now that foreigners
could travel and live in the interior.

He described his own experiences and the welcome reception to the gospel he
found during his years in China. He tried to impress everyone he talked to with
the immensity of China. Its millions of people and their need of the gospel.

Christian leaders he met nearly always gave the young missionary a sympathetic
hearing, but it soon became evident that none of the boards were willing to
assume the incredible challenge of evangelizing a country that contained half
the non-Christian population of the entire world. What could he do to stir up
greater interest in China? Reverend W.G. Lewis, Hudson's friend and the editor
of The Baptist Magazine, asked Hudson to write a series of articles about the
work at Ningpo. The first article had already been published when Mr. Lewis
returned the second manuscript.

He told Hudson that he thought the articles were too important to be limited to
publication in his small denominational magazine. Add to them, he urged. Let
them cover the whole field and be published as an appeal for inland China.

Since Hudson had never forgotten his original calling to inland China, that's
what he decided to do. He began studying in detail the spiritual needs of every
part of China. While on the field, he wrote, the pressure of claims immediately
around me was so great I could not think much of the still greater need further
inland and could do nothing to meet it.

But detained for some years in England, daily viewing the whole country on the
large map in my study, I was as near the vast regions of the interior as the
smaller districts in which I had personally labored. And prayer was the only
resource by which the burdened heart could obtain any relief. Every day, Hudson
looked at the map of China on his wall, read the promises in the open Bible that
lay on his desk beneath the map and prayed.

Even as he labored to write a pamphlet, he prayed that it would inspire the
Christian community of England to launch an unprecedented wave of missionary
effort into China. He prayed for every part of his adopted land. Compiling facts
about the size and population of every province impressed Hudson all the more
with China's needs.

At the same time, his research showed him an even more disturbing truth. In
recent months, the number of Protestant missionaries to China had actually been
reduced from 115 to only 91. Something had to be done.

The more he prayed, the more keenly he began to feel that God wanted to use him
to answer those prayers. But he was just one person. What could he do? Hudson
didn't feel capable of what he now believed God was asking him to do.

He wrote, I had a growing conviction that God would have me seek from him the
needed workers and go forth with them. But for a long time, unbelief hindered me
taking the first step. In the study of that divine word, I learned that to
obtain successful workers, not elaborate appeals for help, but first, earnest
prayers to God to thrust forth laborers, and second, the deepening of the
spiritual life of the church so that men should be unable to stay at home were
what was needed.

I saw that the apostle's plan was not to raise ways and means, but to go and do
the work, trusting his sure promise who has said, Seek ye first the kingdom of
God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you. But how
inconsistent unbelief always is. I had no doubt that if I prayed for fellow
workers in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, they would be given.

I had no doubt but that in answer to such prayer, the means for our going forth
would be provided, and that the doors would be opened before us in unreached
parts of the empire. But I had not then learned to trust God for keeping power
and grace for myself, so no wonder I could not trust him to keep others who
might be prepared to go with me. I feared that amid the dangers and the
difficulties and trials necessarily connected with such work, some comparatively
inexperienced Christians might break down, and bitterly reproach me for
encouraging them to undertake an enterprise for which they were unequal.

Yet what was I to do? The sense of blood guiltlessness became more and more
intense. Simply because I refused to ask for them, the laborers did not come
forward, did not go out to China, and every day tens of thousands in that land
were passing into Christless graves. Perishing China so filled my heart and mind
that there was no rest by day and little sleep by night till health gave way.

I knew God was speaking. Meanwhile a million a month were dying in that land,
dying without God. This was burned into my very soul.

For two or three months the conflict was intense. I scarcely slept night or day,
more than an hour at a time, and feared I should lose my reason. Yet I did not
give in.

To no one could I speak freely, not even to my dear wife. She saw, doubtless,
that something was going on, but I felt I must refrain as long as possible from
laying upon her a burden so crushing. These souls, and what eternity must mean
for every one of them, and what the gospel might do, would do, for all who
believed, if we could only take it to them.

For seven weeks that spring of 1865, Hudson Taylor made no entries in the
journal he'd kept so faithfully. He was too consumed by the spiritual struggle
going on in his heart and mind. Summer came.

The streets were hot and dusty in East London. Seeing that Hudson was not
looking well, an old friend invited him down to the coast to spend a few days at
Brighton. Maria, who was concerned about her husband's deteriorating health,
encouraged him to go.

So it was a Sunday morning in Brighton that Hudson Taylor faced the greatest
crises yet in his life. He went to church with friends, but the sight of a large
Christian congregation who heard the gospel every week only reminded him of the
millions dying in China without ever having heard. Too upset to worship that
morning, he walked out of the service and wandered out along the sands left by
the receding tide.

As he walked, he rehashed the inner spiritual struggle that had gone on now for
so long. He knew God was speaking to him. He felt confident that if he yielded
to God's will and prayed for evangelists to go inland China, God would answer
and that the missionaries would go.

He believed too that God would provide the staggering financial needs for such a
venture. Hudson had no doubts about that. One question troubled him.

What if they failed? He knew what new missionaries would have to face, the
hardships, the challenges. What if they failed and blamed him? How could he
assume that kind of responsibility? Later, Hudson Taylor was able to analyze his
struggle. It was just a bringing in of self through unbelief, the devil getting
one to feel that while prayer and faith would bring one into the fix, one would
have to get out of it as best one might.

And I did not see that the power that would give the men and the means would be
sufficient to keep them also, even in the far interior of China. But at the time
on that beach in Brighton, he only knew a decision had to be made. He couldn't
bear the conflict any longer.

Would he accept the burden of leadership he felt God was asking him to lead? He
recalled later, in great spiritual agony, I wandered out on the sands alone.
Well, the thought came at last. If God gives us a band of men for inland China,
and they go, and all die of starvation even, they will only be taken straight to
heaven.

And if one heathen soul is saved, would it not be well worthwhile? It was then
that another thought struck him. If we are obeying the Lord, the responsibility
rests with Him, not with us. A great sense of relief flooded over him as he
cried, Thou, Lord, Thou shalt have all the burden.

At Thy bidding, as Thy servant, I go forward, leaving results to Thee. Of that
moment, Hudson later wrote, There the Lord conquered my unbelief, and I
surrendered myself to God for this service. Need I say that at once peace flowed
into my burdened heart? Then and there I asked Him for twenty-four fellow
workers, two for each of the eleven provinces that were without a missionary,
and two for Mongolia.

And writing the petition on the margin of the Bible I had with me, I turned
homeward with a heart enjoying rest, such as it had been a stranger to for
months, and with an assurance that the Lord would bless His own work, and that I
should share in that blessing. The conflict ended. All was peace and joy.

I felt as if I could fly up the hill to Mr. Pierce's house, and how I did sleep
that night. My dear wife thought that Brighton had done wonders for me, and so
it had. But that was merely the beginning of an adventure of faith, which was to
see bigger trials and greater victories than Hudson Taylor had yet known.

1865 Two days after his decision on the beach at Brighton, Hudson Taylor
returned to London where his journal reads, June 27, went with Mr. Pierce to the
London County Bank and opened an account for the China Inland Mission, paid in
ten pounds. That was the first reference anywhere to the name of Hudson's new
mission, and the money he put in its account was all the money that he and Maria
had. They were determined to trust God for their own support.

When he returned to London from Brighton, Hudson told Maria about the decision
he had made and about the calling he had felt from God. Despite her frail
health, her youth, she was still only 28, and the heavy responsibility she had
for the daily care of their four small children, she accepted her husband's
vision as her call as well. She committed her energies also to the seemingly
impossible task of evangelizing the vast inland territories of China.

More than ever before in their seven and a half years of happy marriage, Maria
became Hudson's comfort and inspiration, his constant encourager. She helped
with his correspondence and records and prayed with him daily for their work and
for the recruitment of the first party of missionaries they hoped to send out.
She also collaborated with him on their first and most crucial task at hand, the
completion of the publication their editor friend had suggested they write
about, the spiritual needs of China.

About the writing, Hudson said, every sentence was steeped in prayer, and the
prayers were answered. The pamphlet, which Hudson titled, China's Spiritual Need
and Claims, went so fast that it had to be reprinted just three weeks after
publication. In the publication, Hudson not only spelled out the needs of China,
he reminded the Christian community of their responsibility, Christ's last
directive on earth, to go unto all the world.

He called for 24 missionaries, and he spelled out the basis of the China Inland
Mission, which would guarantee no set salary for its missionaries who would
trust God to supply their needs. This faith mission idea seemed radical at a
time when the only existing missionary organizations were regular denominational
boards. But Hudson's writing was so convincing that his pamphlet moved and
inspired countless readers.

Inquiries became streaming in from men and women interested in going to China.
Though he deliberately avoided any appeal for financial support, readers began
sending in money to be used in funding the work of the China Inland Mission's
first missionaries. The booklet also served as an introduction for the young,
unknown Hudson Taylor to Christian leaders and potential supporters all over
Britain.

An example of the reader's response can be seen in this excerpt from a letter
written by Lord Radstock. I have read your pamphlet and have been greatly
stirred by it. I trust you may be enabled by the Holy Spirit to speak words
which will thrust forth many laborers into the vineyard.

Dear brother, enlarge your desires. Ask for a hundred laborers, and the Lord
will give them to you. Hudson's prayer, which he recorded in his Bible, was not
for 100, but 24 missionaries for China.

And the response to his appeal, while it must have been heartening on one level,
added to his personal sense of responsibility. He was well aware that the task
before him would prove a greater challenge to his faith than anything he had yet
done in his life. However, it was Hudson's past experience of God's faithfulness
that gave him the courage to proceed with his plans and to help inspire others
to join in the work.

Hudson's treatise told readers how he'd seen God answer prayer before, during
storms at sea on his voyage to China, for his safety in China, and for the
response of the Chinese people to the gospel. And it was his faith that shone
through when he wrote, We have to do with one who is Lord of all power and
might, whose arm is not shortened that it cannot save, nor is ear heavy that he
cannot hear, with one whose unchanging word directs us to ask and receive, that
our joy may be full, to open our mouths wide that he may fill them. And we do
well to remember that this gracious God, who has condescended to place his
almighty power at the command of believing prayer, looks not lightly on the
blood guiltlessness of those who neglect to avail themselves of it for the
benefit of the perishing.

To those who have never been called to prove the faithfulness of the
covenant-keeping God, it might seem a hazardous experiment to send 24 European
evangelists to a distant heathen land with only God to look to. But in one whose
privileges it has been, through many years to put that God to the test, at home
and abroad, by land and sea, in sickness and in health, in dangers, necessities,
and at the gates of death, such apprehensions would be holy and excusable. The
year is 1865.

The fact that there would be no set salaries made Hudson's mission distinctive
enough, but he also opened its membership to volunteers from any denomination.
He explained his thinking about the mission's make-up and organization this way,
We had to consider whether it would not be possible for members of various
denominations to work together on simple evangelistic lines without friction as
to conscientious differences of opinion. Prayerfully concluding that it would,
we decided to invite the cooperation of fellow believers, irrespective of
denominational views, who fully held the inspiration of God's word and were
willing to prove their faith by going to inland China with only the guarantee
they carried in their Bibles.

That the word said, Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and
all these things shall be added unto you. If anyone did not believe that God
spoke the truth, it would be better for him not to go to China to propagate the
faith. If he did believe it, surely the promise sufficed.

Again we have the assurance, no good thing will be held or withheld from them
that walk uprightly. If anyone did not mean to walk uprightly, he'd better stay
at home. If he did mean to walk uprightly, he had all he needed in the shape of
a guarantee fund.

God owns all the gold and silver in the world and the cattle on a thousand
hills. We need not be vegetarians. We might indeed have had a guarantee fund if
we had wished it, but we felt that it was unnecessary and would do harm.

Money wrongfully placed and money given from wrong motives are both greatly to
be dreaded. We can afford to have as little as the Lord chooses to give, but we
cannot afford to have unconsecrated money or to have money placed in the wrong
position. Far better have no money even to buy bread with.

There are plenty of ravens in China and the Lord could send them again with
bread and flesh. He sustained three million Israelites in the wilderness for
forty years. We do not expect him to send three million missionaries to China,
but if he did, he would have ample means to sustain them all.

Let us see that we keep God before our eyes, that we walk in his ways and seek
to please and glorify him in everything great and small. Depend upon it. God's
work, done in God's way, will never lack God's supplies.

That declaration of faith, combined with the size of the task Hudson and his
fledgling mission were taking on, drew the notice of Britain's Christian
community. A lot of those who first heard the plans of this brash, unknown young
missionary didn't quite know what to make of him. But Hudson wasn't as concerned
about his own countrymen's opinions of him as he was about the respect of the
Chinese people.

For that reason, he persuaded the leaders of the Perth Conference to give him a
chance to address the assembly. Now, the Perth Conference was an annual meeting
of two thousand ministers and Christian leaders from all over Scotland. He began
his address by transporting his audience halfway around the world, vividly
recounting a true story of a journey he made in October 1865 from Shanghai to
Ningpo aboard a Chinese junk.

Among his fellow passengers had been a Chinese man who was educated in England
and went by the name of Peter. As Hudson talked with him, he learned that while
the man knew the teachings of Christianity, he had never made a personal
commitment to Christ. As Hudson and Peter began developing a friendship on this
journey, Hudson had opportunity to talk to the man about his spiritual needs.

As the junk approached the city of Sungyong, Hudson was in his cabin, preparing
to go ashore to preach and distribute tracts when he heard a splash and then a
cry of alarm that a man had fallen overboard. Rushing onto the deck, Hudson
didn't see his new friend Peter. Was he the missing man? Yes, the boatman told
Hudson, showing no concern.

He went down over there. After convincing the reluctant captain to drop his
sails, Hudson jumped over the side and began swimming back to the spot where
Peter had disappeared. But the tide was running out and the low, shrubless shore
provided no good landmark.

His search seemed hopeless. Just then Hudson spotted some nearby fishermen with
a drag net, just what he needed. Come, he cried out in Chinese.

Come and drag over here. A man is drowning. They've in? The fisherman replied.

It is not convenient. Come quickly or it will be too late, Hudson pleaded. We
are busy fishing.

Never mind your fishing. Come at once and I will pay you well. How much will you
give us? The fisherman wanted to know.

Five dollars, but hurry. Too little, they called back. We won't come for less
than thirty.

Hudson told them, I don't have that much with me, but I'll give you all I have.
How much is that? They asked. I don't know.

About fourteen dollars? They finally brought their net over and the first time
that they passed it through the water, they dragged up the missing man. But all
Hudson's efforts to revive Peter failed. It was too late.

The fisherman's indifference had cost him his life. At the conclusion of that
story, a murmur of indignation swept over the crowd listening to Hudson. How
could anyone be so callous and selfish? That was the moment Hudson drove home
his point.

Is the body then of so much more value than the soul? We condemn those healthy
fishermen. We say they were guilty of the man's death because they easily could
have saved him and did not do it. But what of the millions whom we leave to
perish? And that eternally? What of the plain command, Go ye into all the world
and preach the gospel to every creature? Hudson went on to describe the
incredible spiritual need of China.

He compared Scotland with its population of four million people and thousands of
ministers to China with its four hundred million people and only ninety-one
missionaries, less than one missionary for every four million people. He
explained how in the interior of China that there were regions as big as all
Europe without a single minister of the gospel. He went on to tell his audience,
It will not do to say that you have no special call to go to China.

With these facts before you, you need rather to ascertain whether you have a
special call to stay home. If in the sight of God you cannot say you are sure
that you have a special call to stay at home, why are you disobeying the
Savior's plan and his command to go? Why are you refusing to come to the help of
the Lord again of the Almighty? If, however, it is perfectly clear that duty,
not inclination, not pleasure, not business, detains you at home, are you
laboring in prayer for those needy ones as you might? Is your influence used to
advance the cause of God among them? Are your means as largely employed as they
should be in helping forward their salvation? At that point, Hudson went on to
recount that painful conversation with his Ningpo Christian friend, Mr. Ni, when
the ex-Buddhist teacher had asked, How long have you had the glad tidings in
your country? Hudson had to admit, Some hundreds of years now. And now he told
that assembly of Christian leaders about Mr. Ni's pointed response, Hundreds of
years and you have never come to tell us? My father sought the truth and died
without finding it.

Oh, why did you not come sooner? Hudson continued his address to the Perth
gathering. Shall we say that the way was not open? At any rate, it is open now.
Before the next Perth conference, 12 million more in China will have passed
forward beyond our reach.

What are we doing to bring them tidings of redeeming love? The Lord commands us,
commands us each one individually, Go, he says, go into all the world and preach
the gospel to every creature. Will you say to him, It is not convenient. Will
you tell him you are busy fishing, have bought a piece of land, purchased five
yoke of oxen, married a wife or for other reasons cannot obey? Will he accept
such excuses? Have you forgotten that we must all stand before the judgment seat
of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in the body? Oh, remember,
pray for, labor for the unevangelized millions of China or you will sin against
your own soul.

Consider again whose word it is that says, If thou forbear to deliver them that
are drawn into death and them that are ready to be slain, if thou sayest,
Behold, we knew it not, doth not he that pondereth the heart consider it? And he
that keepeth thy soul, doth not he know it? And shall he render to every man
according to his works? With that challenge, Hudson ended his address. So
powerful were his words and the conviction behind them that the great meeting
was dismissed almost in silence. Who was this man who had such vision and faith?
Soon Hudson was being invited to speak in churches at all meetings all over
Great Britain and the people who heard his passion and vision for China
responded to his message.

One thing, however, still troubled Hudson. He was concerned that his new mission
might in some way deflect men or money from existing agencies. He felt that
robbing Peter to pay Paul would do nothing to advance the kingdom of God.

So he established standards that allowed the China Inland Mission to accept
workers who might not be accepted by other missions, particularly those who
hadn't completed university training. And furthermore, no one would be recruited
or asked to join the mission. He believed that God would prompt those whom he
wanted to volunteer.

In the same way, there would be no appeals for money. Hudson trusted that if the
mission could be sustained in answer to prayer without donor lists or
solicitation of any kind, it might grow up among the older societies without
danger of diverting gifts from established channels. He believed the policy
might even be helpful as an example to others that God would provide for those
who obeyed him.

There wasn't much to the China Inland Mission in the way of formal organization.
Hudson's longtime friends and supporters, Mr. and Mrs. Berger of St. Hill,
played an essential role, which Hudson later explained by writing, When I
decided to go forward, Mr. Berger undertook to represent us at home. The thing
grew up gradually.

Neither of us asked or appointed the other. It was just so. A few essential
spiritual principles were discussed with the candidates so that each principle
was clearly understood as the basis of the mission.

A few simple arrangements were agreed to in writing in Mr. Berger's presence,
and that was all. Again, Hudson wrote, We came out as God's children at God's
command to do God's work, depending upon him for supplies, to wear native dress,
and to go inland. I was to be the leader in China.

There was no question as to who was to determine points at issue. Just as Hudson
was to be in charge of the mission in China, Mr. Berger was responsible at home.
He would correspond with the candidates, receive and forward the contributions,
publish a regular report and accounting of the work and its finances in what was
to be called an occasional paper.

Mr. Berger would also send out suitable reinforcements as funds permitted and
keep clear of debt. This last point was a cardinal principle Hudson felt
strongly about. As he explained, It is really just as easy for God to give
beforehand, and he much prefers to do so.

He is too wise to allow his purposes to be frustrated for lack of a little
money, but money obtained in unspiritual ways is sure to hinder the blessing.
Nothing seemed to be hindering Hudson's plans for the new mission that fall. A
number of candidates had been accepted, had moved to London, were being trained
in the suddenly crowded Taylor Home on Coburn Street.

When the house next door promptly became vacant, the mission rented it and
accommodations were doubled. A letter Hudson wrote his mother in November spells
out the level of activity going on at the time. The revision is now going on.

We have reprinted the pamphlet again and have missionary boxes on the way. I am
preparing a magazine for the mission, furnishing a house completely, setting up
two fonts of type for China, teaching four pupils Chinese, receiving
applications from candidates, and lecturing or attending meetings continually.
One night only accepted for the last month.

I am also preparing a New Year's address on China for use in Sunday schools and
a missionary map of the whole country. Join us in praying for funds and for the
right kind of laborers also that others might be kept back or not accepted, for
many are offering. Prayers were being answered.

Candidates for all 24 positions were accepted. And by the time the first
occasional paper telling of plans and upcoming expresses for the voyage to China
came off the press, the money was in hand. An insert had to be put in all the
papers saying that the current needs of the mission had all been met.

In the early months of 1866, the last prayer meetings were held in the Taylor
House on Coburn Street. Friends and supporters of the Taylors and of their first
wave of missionaries to China crowded the rooms and staircase sitting among the
packing cases and bundles prepared for the journey. On the wall hung the map of
China.

On the table lay the open Bible. Hudson Taylor had written of the new mission,
Our great desire and aim to plant the standard of the cross in the eleven
provinces of China, hitherto unoccupied and in Chinese territory. Those who only
saw the difficulties ahead shook their heads and called it a foolhardy business.

Others who wished them well sighed and said, It's a superhuman task. And even
their friends were anxious. Some said, You'll be forgotten.

With no committee or organization before the public, you will be lost in that
distant land. Claims are many nowadays. Before long you may find yourself
without even the necessities of life.

But Hudson replied, I am taking my children with me, and I notice it is not
difficult to remember that they need breakfast in the morning, dinner at midday,
and supper at night. Indeed, I could not forget them if I tried, and I find it
impossible to think that our Heavenly Father is less tender and mindful of His
children than I, a poor earthly father, am of mine. No, He will not forget us.

With that confidence, Hudson Taylor and his small band of young missionaries
were ready to evangelize inland China. Hudson Taylor's band of young
missionaries was marked by the same faith and sense of spiritual urgency that
sustained him. That same confident commitment to God and to the challenge before
them was evident from the very start of their journey.

It shone forth from the correspondence sent home and from the results of their
work and their lives. For them, the simple theology of John 3.16, God so loved
the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him
should not perish, but have everlasting life, seemed motive enough to sacrifice
their all. So the occasion of their leaving in May of 1866 deserved the tribute
in verse penned by Hudson's missionary friend H. Grattan Guinness.

Over the dark blue sea, over the trackless flood, a little band is gone in the
service of their God. The lonely waste of waters they traverse to proclaim in
the distant land of Sinai Emmanuel's saving name. They have heard from the far
off east the voice of their brother's blood.

A million a month in China are dying without God. No help have they but God.
Alone to their father's hand they look for the supply of their wants in a
distant land.

The fullness of the world is His. All power in earth and heaven. They are strong
though weak and rich though poor in the promise that He has given.

Tis enough they hear the cry, the voice of their brother's blood. A million a
month in China are dying. The party of sixteen missionaries plus the tailors
with their four young children boarded the Lamamure, a small sailing ship of
less than 800 tons, for a scheduled four month voyage around the globe.

The first day on board the group unpacked and got their cabins in order. But the
second day the work began. Hudson taught a Chinese language class every morning.

Then Maria taught another one in the afternoon. There were times at the
beginning when all the students were down with seasickness. The teachers had to
do double duty as steward and stewardess.

But the younger people soon found their sea legs and proved to be good sailors.
Life can get very trying in the cramped quarters of a small sailing ship. So it
was for the crew to see how consistently these young missionaries practiced what
they were going to preach in China.

And while these rough sailors were none too happy being struck with a whole
boatload of missionaries, they soon became appreciative of the group's
friendliness, helpfulness, and even their penchant for hymn singing. Although
the missionaries themselves had prayed beforehand for the opportunity to
evangelize the crew, they refrained from pushing their beliefs until the sailors
asked if the missionaries would begin holding services. As Hudson wrote to his
friends, the burgers, we commenced by having service on Sunday morning in the
saloon while with the captain's permission.

A few of the sailors came. Then the young men started an afternoon meeting in
the forecastle, held thrice weekly. Nor were our sisters less active.

Mary Bell began a Bible class, which soon grew into a meeting for reading the
Scripture and for prayers every night. Mrs. Nichols and others joined her. Some
were converted, and these meetings became general.

Mrs. Desgraze undertook reading with the four Swedes, Mrs. Foulding with the
German, Mrs. Balsman with the Cook, and the South Sea Islander. Mrs. Barnes held
a reading class for all who wished to improve themselves in English and has been
blessed with the conversion of several. Eventually a majority of the crew
accepted Christ.

One of the last was the first mate, Mr. Brunton, who had been a savage bully
among the men. His sudden and complete change of heart and lifestyle was the
cause of much excitement and rejoicing among the missionaries. After a long,
hard voyage across the Atlantic through the treacherous waters of the tip of
South America and then over the vast stretches of the South Pacific, the L'Amour
Mure sailed safely.

It wasn't until they reached the China Sea that the ship faced its greatest
test. For twelve straight days, the ship was battered by one typhoon after
another. Many among the crew were sick.

The structure of the ship was weakened. On Tuesday, September 18th, they finally
sighted the China coast, only to be hit by the worst weather yet. They
encountered still another typhoon which drove the severely crippled ship away
from their destination.

The captain did all he could just to keep his ship afloat. Hudson described the
experience by writing, Friday, September 21, the gale increasing and having all
the appearance of another typhoon, we had prayed together from time to time
during the afternoon and night. The decks were swept by the sea in a manner I
have never before witnessed.

Saturday, September 22, the jibs and stay sails gave way early this morning. So
fearful was the sea that the men refused to go out and to secure them. The
captain and first mate went on to the forecastle.

The men followed, but soon all had to be recalled as the vessel was driven into
the sea. Soon after this, the lee, the upper bulwarks began to give way, and
before long all this side was overboard. Next, the jib boom and the flying jib
boom gave way, following immediately by the foretop and the top gallant masts
and the main top gallant mast.

They hung by the wire shroud, swinging almost fearfully owing to the heavy
rolling of the sea. The appearance of things was now truly terrific. The decks
were full of water, which poured over both sides as she rolled, were encumbered
by floating spars, tubs, buckets, casts, etc.

Because of the danger of being washed aboard, there was no small risk of having
one's limbs broken by moving timbers torn from their moorings. Praying to God
was our only resource. The sailors paralyzed, gave up work.

The probability seemed that our hours, if not minutes, were numbered. I kissed
the dear children, and with the young men went out and set to work, hoping to
encourage others. Hudson downplayed his own role in the ship's survival, but
another missionary, W. D. Rudland, wrote, All through the storm Mr. Taylor was
perfectly calm.

When almost at its height, the men refused to work any longer. The captain had
advised all to put on life belts. She can scarcely hold for another two hours,
was his verdict.

At this injuncture, he was going to the forecastle where the men were taking
refuge, revolver in hand. Mr. Taylor went up to him. Don't use force, he said,
till everything else has been tried.

He then went in quietly and talked to the men, telling them he believed God
would bring us through, but that everything depended upon the greatest care in
navigating the ship, in other words, upon the men themselves. We will all help,
he added. Our lives are in jeopardy as much as yours.

The men were completely reassured by his quiet demeanor and friendly reasoning,
and with officers, midshipmen, and the rest of us went to work in earnest at the
wreckage, and before long got in the great iron spars that were ramaging the
side of the ship. Somehow the ship stayed afloat. The women as well as the men
took turns on Sunday working the pumps to keep her that way.

It wasn't until Monday that the weather finally cleared, but the danger wasn't
over. The pumps had quit, and the ship was taking on water fast. Yet through the
ordeal, Maria Taylor, confined to her storm-tossed cabin with four young
children, remained confident in God's steadfast grace.

She later wrote, It was sweet to rejoice in God through all, to rest in past
proofs of his love, independently of present circumstances, and I entered into
Habakkuk's song as never before. Quote, Yet will I rejoice in the Lord. I will
glory in the God of my salvation.

End quote. It wasn't until Sunday, September 29th, that the Lammermuir limped
into sheltered waters, and anchored just offshore from the foreign settlement of
Shanghai. Curious sightseers gathered to see the mangled and broken vessel that
carried the largest single contingent of missionaries ever to arrive in China.

But Hudson kept his worn-out band aboard for the night, where the group held a
praise service to thank God for his protection. Another ship, landing right
after theirs, reported the loss of 16 out of a ship's company of 22. Yet no one
aboard the Lammermuir was even seriously injured.

Despite his gratitude for the safe journey, as he looked once again upon the
city of Shanghai, Hudson must have felt that the real challenge was just
beginning. None of the missionaries he knew there would be able to house a party
of 20 people. And remembering how hard it had been to find accommodations just
for himself the first time he arrived in China, he had to feel a great and
sudden sense of responsibility for the young, idealistic missionaries he brought
with him.

None of them knew what to expect when they stepped ashore in China for the first
time, but Hudson knew all too well. But just as prayers had been answered in the
midst of the storm, they were also answered in Shanghai. A missionary
acquaintance of Hudson's from Ningpu happened to have purchased a residence with
an empty warehouse attached.

He had not only offered Hudson and his party the warehouse for temporary
housing, he also told them that they could store their extra printing, medical,
and other supplies there while they journeyed inland. So it was only two days
after the L'Ammamure sailed into Shanghai that the entire mission party was
housed and a temporary headquarters was established. The group of missionaries
caused a bit of stir in the foreign settlement.

Some Europeans seemed scandalized to learn that Hudson had brought ladies to
China with the plan to send them into the unknown interior, and in Chinese
dress, no less. Some wondered if Hudson was some sort of a madman. It was indeed
an unprecedented and bold venture.

The tailors had in their company a total of six unmarried women, and at that
time in all of China there were only 17 single women missionaries and not one
was to be found outside the five treaty ports. Hudson ignored the criticism,
saying, we have and may expect to have some trials, but the Lord is with us. As
to the criticism about his requirement that everyone associated with his mission
should adopt Chinese fashion, Hudson remained convinced that it was the only way
to carry out an effective ministry in the interior.

Not only had his own experience proved that the strategy would reduce undue
notice during travels into new territory, but he felt strongly that it would
help reduce one more barrier to effective cross-cultural communication. Evidence
of just how visionary his thinking was on this subject can be seen in what he
wrote to candidates in the first stages of applying to go out under the China
Inland Mission. He wrote, I am not alone in the opinion that foreign dress and
carriage of missionaries, the foreign appearance of chapels, and indeed the
foreign air imparted to everything connected with their work, has seriously
hindered the rapid dissemination of the truth among the Chinese.

And why should such a foreign aspect even be given to Christianity? The word of
God does not require it, nor, I conceive, could sound reason justify it. It is
not the denationalization, but the Christianization of this people that we seek.
We wish to see Chinese Christians raised up, men and women, true Christians, but
with all truly Chinese in every sense of the word.

We wish to see churches of such believers presided over by pastors and officers
of their own countrymen, worshiping God in the land of their fathers, in their
own tongue, and in edifices of a thoroughly native style of architecture. If we
really wish to see the Chinese such as we have described, let us, as far as
possible, set before them a true example. Let us in everything, not sinful,
become Chinese, that we may, by all means, save some.

Let us adopt their dress, acquire their language, seek to conform to their
habits and approximate to their diet as far as health and constitution will
allow. Let us live in their houses, making no unnecessary alteration in external
form, and only so far modifying their internal arrangements as health and
efficiency for work absolutely require. This cannot but involve, of course, a
certain measure of inconvenience, such as the sacrifice of some accustomed
articles of diet.

But will anyone reflecting on what he gave up, who left heaven's throne to be
cradled in a manger, who, having filled all things and wielded omnipotence,
became a feeble infant wrapped in swaddling clothes, who, from being the loved
one of the father, never misjudged, never unappreciated, and receiving the
ceaseless adoration of all the hierarchies of heaven, became a despised
Nazarene, misunderstood by his most faithful followers, neglected and rejected
by men who owed him their very being and whose salvation he had come to seek,
and finally mocked, spit upon, crucified and slain with thieves and outlaws?
Will any follower of Christ, reflecting on these things, hesitate to make the
trifling sacrifices indicated above? It was a sacrifice, and no one knew it
better than Maria Taylor. She wrote her friend Mrs. Berger, Things which are
tolerated in us as foreigners, wearing foreign dress, could not be allowed for a
moment in native ladies, I do not at all mean to imply a doubt as to the
desirability of the change, but the nearer we come to the Chinese and outward
appearance, the more severely will any breach of propriety, according to their
standards, be criticized. Henceforth I must never be guilty, for example, of
taking my husband's arm out of doors, and in fifty or a hundred other ways, we
may, without great watchfulness, shock the Chinese by what would seem to them
grossly immodest and unfeminine conduct.

Oh, pray much for us in respect to this matter. Maria Taylor, too, had a
cross-cultural sensitivity far ahead of her time. Just three weeks after their
arrival in Shanghai, the entire party boarded houseboats to travel together into
the interior, heading up the Grand Canal toward Hangzhou in search of a
permanent inland headquarters for the mission.

Traveling by houseboats made it possible for the women and children to be
sheltered from curious crowds as they passed city after city. Everywhere they
stopped, Hudson inquired about permission to rent or buy accommodations where
some of the young men in his party might settle. But at each stop he was refused
permission from local authorities, no suitable place was available, the landlord
wouldn't come to terms, or some other complication thwarted his original plan.

So the full contingent of missionaries, some 20 strong, remained together as the
boats finally approached the great city of Hangzhou. The Taylors knew that two
or three mission families had already taken up residence in that city, and it
would mean serious risk to them as well as to the new arrivals if such a large
party of foreigners stirred up opposition. But what else could they do? It was
autumn, winter was fast approaching, the nights on the water was already
bitterly cold, and several of the party were ill, and the boat people were
clamoring to go home for the winter.

Never had the responsibilities of leadership weighed so heavily on him as it did
when Hudson left the boats in a quiet place outside the city and went ahead to
inquire about the accommodation they so desperately needed. Maria also felt the
seriousness of the situation, so after Hudson left, she gathered the younger
missionaries for prayer, telling them of the comfort that had come to her
through the psalm in her regular reading that morning. Quote, Who will bring me
into this strong city? Who will lead me into Eden? Wilt not thou, O God, give us
help from trouble? For vain is the help of man.

End quote. Together they read that passage again as they waited anxiously for
word. Suddenly, Hudson was back.

Wonderful news! A home was ready, waiting for them. One of the Hangzhou
missionaries was absent for a week and had left word that his house, comfortably
furnished, was at the disposal of Mr. Taylor's party. Situated on a quiet
street, it could be reached in the boats unobserved.

And that very night, the wearful, thankful travelers were at rest in the great
city. Within the next few days, in spite of all the usual difficulties, Hudson
secured premises of his own, a large, rambling house, which at once belonged to
a government official, that had over time become a warren, occupied by a number
of families. There was plenty of room to adapt to the needs of the mission
party.

A number of renters and their families stayed on for a while, making it possible
for the group to begin missionary work within their own doors, without
attracting too much attention. From the very start, Jenny Faudling, the youngest
of the party, was already able to make herself understood by the Chinese women.
Hudson wrote in a report to his friends and supporters back in England at the
first of December, It is pretty cold weather to be living in a house without any
ceilings, and with very few walls and windows.

There is a deficiency in the wall of my own bedroom, six feet by nine, closed in
with a sheet, so that ventilation is decidedly free. But we heed these things
very little. Around us are poor, heathen, large cities without any missionary,
populous towns without any missionary, villages without number, all destitute of
the means of grace.

I do not envy the state of mind that would forget these, or leave them to
perish, for fear of a little discomfort. By mid-December, Jenny Faudling wrote
home, We have been getting the house a little more comfortable, though there is
plenty still to be done. Mr. Taylor and the young men have contrived paper
ceilings fixed on wooden frames, which keep out some of the cold air, for the
upstairs rooms have roofs, such as you find in chapels at home.

They also have prepared some of the partitions between the rooms. Of course, we
are as yet in confusion, but we are getting on, and I hope shall be settled some
day. The lodgers are to leave next week.

They occupy principally the ground floor. I am so glad for them to have been
here, for many have come to Chinese prayer meetings and listened attentively. We
could not have visited out of doors yet, but I read and talk with those women
every day, and they seem to like it.

One woman I have great hope for. Before Christmas they were interested audiences
of fifty or sixty at the Sunday services, and Hudson had been at least on one
evangelistic journey. In the neighboring city of Zaozong, he and James Meadows
had found excellent opportunities for preaching the gospel, and had been able to
rent a small house.

They planned to settle some of the new arrivals there just as soon as possible.
Right away, Hudson wrote Mr. Berger at the home office. You will be glad to
learn that facilities for sending letters by native post and for transmitting
money to the interior are very good.

I do not think that there will be any difficulty in remitting money to any
providence in the empire, which will not be easily overcome. In the same way,
letters from the most distant parts can be sent to the ports. Such communication
is slow and may prove rather expensive, but it is tolerably sure.

Thus we see the way opening before us for work in the interior. The team had
barely established its first base in the interior, and Hudson was already
planning the next steps of sending missionaries farther inland. But in the
meantime, his hands were more than full at Hangzhou.

After the Chinese New Year, patients crowded into the dispensary, as many as 200
a day, and an equal number attended the Sunday services. When the first
reinforcements arrived from home early in 1867, Hudson was literally too busy to
even greet them until hours later. He was standing on a table at the time,
preaching to a crowd of patients in the courtyard, and could only call out a
hearty welcome as the newest party entered, escorted by James Meadows.

The busyness didn't seem to bother the new arrivals. They were more than happy
to work side by side with the leader they so respected. John McCarthy, who
became Hudson's chief medical assistant, later wrote of this time, I think of
him as I ever knew him.

Kind, loving, thoughtful of everyone but himself. A blessing wherever he went,
and a strength and comfort to all with whom he came in contact. A constant
example of all that a missionary ought to be.

Yet there was some dissension in the ranks. One critical couple of the Chinese
dress policy stirred up complaints about Hudson's leadership from two or three
others as well. But Hudson and Maria, too, determined to respond with patience
and love.

Though the handful of dissenters sent their complaints about the tailors'
leadership back to England, neither Hudson nor Maria felt it necessary to defend
themselves. Not until months later did Maria mention the matter, even in writing
Mrs. Berger, and that it was an answer to inquiries from St. Hill that she even
wrote at length. Do pray for us very much, for we do so need God's preserving
grace at this present time.

We've come to fight Satan in his very strongholds, and he will not let us alone.
What folly were ours? Were we here in our own strength? But greater is he that
is in us than all that are against us. I should be very sorry to see discord
sown among the sisters of our party, and this is one of the evils I'm fearing
now.

What turn the inn, and then she underlines it so that we won't really know the
name, what turn the inn matter will take, I cannot think. One thing I know, the
hope of Israel will not forsake us. One is almost tempted to ask, why was inn
permitted to come out? Perhaps it was that our mission might be thoroughly
established on a right basis early in its history.

Hudson and Maria were both deeply saddened by the conflict within the mission,
yet the response in Hangzhou continued to be very encouraging. So when the first
baptisms came in May, Mrs. Taylor wrote again to Mrs. Berger. Perhaps the dear
Lord sees that we need sorrows to keep us from being elated at the rich blessing
he's giving in our work.

By that time the mission had established additional outposts, and the
administrative details had multiplied. As Ginny Falding wrote, If only Mr.
Taylor could be in three or four places at the same time, it would be a decided
advantage. He's wanting to visit the governing cities of the province to look
out for the most eligible places for stations.

He and Mr. Duncan have been on the point of starting several times. Then there
is Ningpo, where he is needed, and here he is overwhelmed with work. He wants to
go to Zhao Hin, to Mr. Stephen's stations, that he may give further help with
the colloquial dialect.

There is hardly any knowing what his movements may be, yet he goes on so quietly
and calmly always, just leaning upon God and living for others. That is a
blessing merely to witness his life. The greatest sacrifice he had to make,
Hudson felt, was leaving his family behind whenever he had to depart on a
journey.

He loved his children and enjoyed all the time he could spend with them,
including the daughter who was born that first winter in Hangzhou. But his
little eight-year-old daughter, Grace, seemed a particular blessing. During the
voyage to China on the Lumumur, she was so impressed by the changes she saw in
the sailors who accepted Christ, that she made her own personal commitment to
the Lord.

After that, despite her tender age, she seemed as devoted to the task in China
as her parents. Early in 1867, she sent a note along with her father when he
left on a short journey. Written on pink notepaper with a flower painted in one
corner were the words, Dear Papa, I hope God has helped you to do what you
wanted and that you will soon come back.

I have a nice bed mat for you when you come home. Dear, dear Papa. As the summer
malaria season set in and temperatures rose to 103 degrees Fahrenheit indoors,
Hudson took Maria, who was getting sick, and his five children out to Hangzhou
to some nearby wooded hills where they rented a cooler summer shelter in the
ruins of an old temple.

As they left their boats that first day and walked up the hill toward the
temple, little Grace noticed a man making an idol. Oh, Papa, she said earnestly,
he doesn't know about Jesus or he would never do that. Won't you tell him? His
daughter's hand clasped in his, Hudson did so.

Afterwards, they walked on and when they stopped to rest, Gracie wanted to pray
for the man that they had met. Hudson wrote, Never have I heard such a prayer.
She had seen the man making an idol.

Her heart was full and she was talking to God on his behalf. The dear child went
on and on pleading that God would have mercy upon the poor Chinese and would
strengthen her father to preach to them. I never was so moved by any prayer.

My heart was bowed before God. Words fail me to describe it. Just a week later,
a broken hearted Hudson Taylor wrote to his friend, Mr. Berger.

Beloved brother, I know not how to write or how to refrain. I'm trying to pen a
few lines by the couch on which my darling, little Gracie lies dying. Her
complaint is hydrocephalus.

It was no vain nor unintelligent act when knowing this land, its people and
climate, I laid my wife and children with myself on the altar for this service.
And he, whom so unworthily, yet in simplicity and godly sincerity, we are and
have been seeking to serve and with some measure of success, he has not left us
now. But to his mother, Hudson poured out his anguish.

Our dear little Gracie, how we miss her sweet voice in the morning, one of the
first sounds to greet us when we awoke and through the day and at even time. As
I take the walks I used to take with her tripping figure at my side, the thought
comes anew like a throb of agony. Is it possible that I shall never more feel
the pressure of that little hand, never more see the sparkle of those bright
eyes? And yet she's not lost.

I would not have her back again. I'm thankful she was taken rather than any of
the others. Though she was the sunshine of our lives, but she is far holier, far
happier than she could have ever been here.

I think I never saw anything so perfect, so beautiful as the remains of that
dear child. The long, silken eyelashes under the finely arched brows, the nose
so delicately chiseled, the mouth small and sweetly expressive, the purity of
the white feature, all are deeply impressed on heart and memory. And then her
sweet little Chinese jacket and the little hands folded on her bosom holding a
single flower.

Oh, it was passing fair and so hard to close forever from our sight. Pray for
us. At times I seem almost overwhelmed.

But He has said, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee. And my strength is
made perfect in weakness. So be it.

1867-68 In a letter to his family in England, Hudson wrote that the only thing
that kept his mind off his grief was the work he did with Maria. And they did
work. Perhaps in determination not to let their daughter's death be for nothing,
they devoted themselves anew to the task of reaching inland China with the
gospel.

Before the close of 1867, little more than a year after the band of
inexperienced missionaries had arrived in Shanghai, all the prefectural
governing cities in Gaicheng had been visited. Nanking finally had been reached
by a missionary. And the members of the mission were working in centers as much
as 24 days' journey apart.

The church in Hangzhou was well established with Wang Lezhong, Hudson's Chinese
helper, who had gone back to England with him as its pastor. By the spring of
1868, it looked possible for the tailors to be spared from that center to help
in expanding the work on some newer frontier. In those days, opening any new
mission stationed in China included the risk of death itself.

Riots occurred so often that they became almost an accepted part of existence.
So it seemed a natural and necessary question for Hudson to ask one missionary
candidate who had only one leg and could walk only with the help of the crutch.
But what would you do in China if a riot broke out and you had to run away? I
had not considered running away, the man answered quietly and citing scripture
added confidently.

I thought that the lame were to take the prey. And in fact, after the man was
accepted by the mission and helped open a new station in Guangzhou, that
confidence was tested. Why don't you run away? yelled the rioters who were
robbing him of everything he had and had even taken away his crutches.

Run away, he replied with a smile. How can a man run with only one leg? I should
like to know. Disarmed by his courage and friendliness, the rioters stopped
their rampage and calm was restored.

The same spirit of confident faith marked George Duncan, the tall, quiet
highlander who had made his way to Nanking as the first resident missionary
there. The people of that city, which had felt the brunt of war as the old
Taiping capital, remained so wary of any foreign interest that city officials
sent word to all the innkeepers that the foreigner was not to be given any
lodging. Fortunately, the priest in charge of the city drum tower hadn't been
warned, probably because no one considered him a possible host.

Indeed, he had no proper room for visitors. But when a weary and discouraged
George Duncan inquired, the man told him that he could stay in the tower at
night if he wished, as long as he was out during the day so as not to frighten
the people who came to the tower to worship. It proved a particular miserable
place to live, wrote Duncan.

We gladly accepted it and managed very nicely, though we have rather more rats
than I like. At night they want to devour everything. Between the constant
scurrying of the rodents and the regular solemn sounding of the drums, the
missionary didn't get much sleep, and at dawn he had to roll up his bedding and
turn out and left on the streets to spend the day in tea shops and the
marketplace sharing the gospel as best he could while trying to learn the local
dialect.

I'm not able to talk much, he wrote, but God helping me, I will say what I can.
Eventually, a local carpenter risked renting the foreigner a portion of an
upstairs room where his own Chinese family lived. And not long after that,
Duncan convinced the carpenter to rent a portion of a street level room which he
partitioned off as a narrow little chapel, the first Christian church in
Nanking.

Soon after his arrival in Nanking, George Duncan had sent Hudson the names of
two banks that had representatives back in Hangzhou. When one bank failed and
the other left the city, there was no longer any channel for headquarters to
provide him with the funds he needed to live and carry on his work. Duncan
didn't worry, even when he had to change his last piece of silver and his
Chinese cash quickly disappeared.

But his Chinese cook and assistant became very concerned. What shall we do when
the money is all gone, he asked. Do, the missionary responded, why we shall
trust in the Lord and do good.

So shall we dwell in the land and verily we shall be fed. Days went on and still
Hudson was unable to reach Nanking by native banks. Finally, in his anxiety for
Duncan, he sent a brother missionary, W.D. Rudland, up the canal by boat with
money for the work in Nanking.

But the water level had dropped so far by the time he sailed to a point that was
still at least a week away from Nanking by canal, that Rudland abandoned the
boat and headed cross-country for a shorter but more strenuous four-day,
sixty-mile walk to the city. By this time, the cook's savings, willingly given
to the work, had been completely used up. Duncan had not a dollar left, but he
went out that morning to preach as usual, reminding his anxious companion, Let
us just trust in the Lord and do good.

His promise is still the same. So shall thou dwell in the land and verily shalt
thou be fed. That evening, W.D. Rudland understood why the water in the Grand
Canal had run so low.

His overland hike brought him to Nanking several days earlier than would have
been possible by boat. And when he reached his colleague's house, he found
Duncan's cupboards as empty as his bank account. When Duncan returned tired and
hungry from preaching all day, his Chinese helper went running to meet him.

Oh, sir, he cried breathlessly, it's all right, it's all right, Mr. Rudland, the
money, a good supper. Did I not tell you this morning, Duncan replied, laying a
kindly hand on the man's shoulder, it is always all right to trust in the living
God. Now, Hudson wasn't content to leave the challenges of pioneer missionary
work to younger men like George Duncan.

He and Maria readily faced as many dangers and hardships as any one of those who
worked for the China Inland Mission. After only sixteen months of settled life
in Hangzhou, the church there already numbered fifty baptized believers. But
with Wang Lijun as pastor and John McCarthy and Jenny Faudling assisting him
there, the Taylors knew that the work was in good hands.

So when spring came, Hudson and Maria packed up, loaded their household and four
children aboard a junk, and set out by canal intending to join Duncan and
Nanking or to establish another station in any city that might open up to them
en route. After the untimely death of their eight-year-old daughter, Gracie, in
1867, Hudson Taylor and his wife, Maria, dedicated themselves even more
completely to the work in China. Outposts were being established.

Many were hearing the message of Jesus for the first time. All were encouraged.
After living so long inside the city walls, the freedom and freshness of the
countryside provided a welcome and beautiful change of pace.

Great mulberry plantations bordered the canal with plum, peach, and apricot
orchards blooming like some great bridal bouquet. Wheat and barley covered the
lush valleys which were interspersed with great fields of peas and beans and
full flower. The canal itself, alive with boat traffic, fascinated the children
just as the scenic beauty of its shores refreshed their parents.

For three weeks, they traveled with Mr. Henry Gordon, one of their young
missionaries who was just beginning his own new work in the famous city of
Suzhou Fu, before their junk reached Xinjiang at the junction of the Grand Canal
and the mighty Yangtze River. So impressed was Hudson by the city and its
strategic location that he determined to establish a mission station there. He
began negotiations for property which the missions eventually acquired, but
since the final details of the negotiations looked as if they would drag on for
some weeks, the Taylors continued their journey up the northern segment of the
canal.

So after two months of boat life, the Taylor family reached the great city of
Yangzhou. The city Marco Polo once governed. Its ancient turreted walls enclosed
a population of 360,000 without even one missionary.

Here again, Hudson felt so burdened by the spiritual needs he saw that he
decided to try to settle his family in Yangzhou. After their arrival there,
Maria wrote Mrs. Berger, Were it not that you yourselves are old travelers, I
should think it impossible for you to realize our feelings last Monday week when
we exchanged the discomfort of a boat into every room of which the heavy rain
had been leaking for a suite of apartments in a first-rate Chinese hotel, such a
place as my husband, who has seen a good deal of Chinese travelers'
accommodations, never before met with, and that hotel too inside the city of
Yangzhou. The reception by a friendly innkeeper and crowds of interested
visitors greatly raised the tailors' hopes for the promise of an effective new
mission station in that great city.

But when a favorable proclamation came from the governor on their behalf, they
soon acquired a house into which the family moved in the middle of July. The
summer heat was already trying, and they hoped for quieter days in August. But
the rush of patients and visitors continued.

A foreign family seemed quite an attraction, especially as Hudson proved to be
such a skillful physician. Maria also established her own reputation among the
women who were charmed by her pleasing Chinese speech and manners. Before long,
just as had happened in Hangzhou, hearts began opening to the gospel, and the
presence of a mother and children helped defuse most suspicion.

But their successes didn't come without trials or opposition. The children all
contracted measles, and the tailor's youngest son developed a life-threatening
case of bronchitis as a complication. Hudson himself grew so ill that for some
time he wasn't at all sure he would survive.

During the summer, some of the city's literati held a meeting and decided to
stir up trouble. Anonymous handbills appeared all over the city, attributing the
most revolting crimes to foreigners, especially those whose business it was to
propagate the religion of Jesus. Before long, the missionaries witnessed the
changing attitude of the people.

Friendly visitors gave way to crowds of disorderly rabble who congregated
outside the tailor's home, shouting insults at the missionaries. A fresh set of
posters added fuel to the flame. Time after time, rioting was prevented only by
the kind, patient words of a sick and very weakened Hudson Taylor, who stood in
the doorway of his home, quietly answering all accusations and reassuring an
angry mob that they intended no harm.

Finally, the intense heat of August was broken by torrential rains, which
effectively scattered the crowds, and the tailors felt doubly relieved and
heartened when the Rudlands and George Duncan arrived to help them. However, the
relief was short-lived. Two foreigners from Jingcheng, Europeans in foreign
clothing, came up to visit Yangzhou, causing quite a stir through the city.

Those opposing the tailors saw too good a chance to pass up. No sooner had the
visitors left and everything returned to normal again that the literati became
circulating the rumor that children all over the area were reported missing. The
story was that 44 children had been kidnapped by the inhuman foreigners.

Everywhere, the troublemakers were saying, Let's avenge our wrongs! Attack!
Destroy the foreigners! Much loot shall be ours! As a mob, intent on
destruction, gathered outside the mission house, Hudson and George Duncan
slipped away under cover of darkness and raced toward the governor's palace for
help. As Hudson described it, But for the protection afforded us by the
darkness, we should scarcely have reached the Ya Men, the police, alive. Alarmed
by the yells of the people, the gatekeepers were just closing the doors as we
approached.

But the momentary delay gave time for the crowd to close in upon us. The as yet
unbarred gates gave way to the pressure and we were precipitated into the
entrance of the hall. Had the gates been barred, I'm convinced that they would
not have been opened for us and we should have been torn to pieces by the
enraged mob.

Inside the governor's residence, Hudson and his friend were kept anxiously
awaiting. In the distance, they could hear the sounds of a riot where they'd
left the other missionaries and Maria and the children at the mercy of a mob
that had already swelled to eight to ten thousand. Finally, the governor came
out.

Hudson pleaded for his help in calming the crowd and restoring order and the
official responded by calling out three thousand troops who soon dispersed the
crowds. Still, fearful for the safety of the others, Hudson and George hurried
back to the mission. Hudson wrote, We returned under escort.

On the way back, we were told that all the foreigners we had left were killed.
We had to cry to God to support us, though we hoped this might prove exaggerated
or untrue. When we reached the house, the scene was such as baffled description.

Here, a pile of half-burned reeds showed where one of the attempts to fire the
premises had been made. There, the breeze of a broken-down wall was lying, and
strewn about everywhere were the remains of boxes and furniture, scattered
papers and letters, broken work boxes, writing desks, dressing cases, and
surgical instrument cases smoldering remains of valuable books, but no trace of
inhabitants within. An agonizing search revealed that the missionaries and the
children were hiding at a neighbor's house.

After the rioters had broken in and begun burning the building, they had all
escaped onto a roof and jumped to the ground in the darkness. Some had been
injured. One young missionary had received a serious head wound from a rock.

Maria had injured her leg leaping from the roof, and others had various cuts and
bruises, but they were all alive, and they were just as grateful to be found by
Hudson as he was to find them. As miraculous as their survival had been, Hudson
decided not to take unnecessary chances. He loaded everyone on a junk and headed
down the canal until passions cooled in Yangzhou.

Only 48 hours after the riot as their boat neared Qingyang, Maria wrote in a
letter, Our God has brought us through. May it be to live henceforth more fully
to His praise and glory.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 4: HUDSON TAYLOR'S SPIRITUAL SECRETS #4
========================================================================

We have had another typhoon, so to speak, not as prolonged as the literal one
nearly two years ago, but at least equally dangerous to our lives and more
terrible while it lasted. I believe God will bring his own glory out of this
experience, and I hope it will tend to the furtherance of the gospel. The
negotiations were long and difficult before the Yangzhou house was repaired and
the missionaries permitted to return.

But when they did, they received quite a reception, and it was with thankfulness
that Hudson was able to write. The results of this case will in all probability
greatly facilitate work in the interior. But it may have been the family life
and friendly spirit of the missionaries that gradually disarmed suspicion.

Actions speak louder than words, and neighbors had something to think over when
the children were brought back after all that had happened and when they learned
that Maria was about to give birth again. Despite the terror of their earlier
exit from the city, she wrote to Mrs. Berger on their return to Yangzhou saying,
In this again God has given me the desire of my heart, for I thought that if
safety to my infant permitted it, I would rather it were born in this city, in
this house, in this very room than in any other place. Your own beautiful home
not accepted in which I've been so tenderly cared for, and the comforts and
luxuries of which I know so well how to appreciate.

The arrival of a fourth son to Maria and Hudson indeed was a testimony to their
Yangzhou neighbors. So was the speedy recovery of all who had been injured in
the riot. As a result, the innkeeper who had first received them in the city,
and two others who had dared much to befriend them during the riot, soon
confessed belief in Christ and became candidates for baptism.

With great relief, Hudson and Maria assumed that the Yangzhou incident was over
and done with. But that assumption, too, turned out to be wrong. 1868-69 During
the turbulent summer in Yangzhou, Hudson sent a verbal message to the British
consul to inform him of the danger the missionaries faced.

And shortly after that, he sent a short note about his fears for the group's
safety and the threats to their lives. Though he called for no protection and
expected none, word of the mistreatment of the China Inland Mission staff at
Yangzhou triggered an international brouhaha that was to bring the two nations
to the verge of war and severely threaten the ministry of the China Inland
Mission. Despite the recent treaty between the two countries that supposedly
allowed anyone with a British passport to travel freely throughout China and
take up residence anywhere in the country, British government officials and
British merchants, as well as missionaries, regularly met with local opposition
and sometimes outright hostility when they ventured beyond the original five
treaty ports.

Ever since the treaty had been signed, there had been a steady stream of
complaints to the British consul that in many parts of the country the Chinese
were abiding by neither the letter nor the spirit of the treaty. At word of the
unrest and threat to British missionaries in Yangzhou, the consul, evidently
waiting for just such an excuse, decided that the time had come to settle the
issue once and for all. Citing the reprehensible treatment of their nation's
subjects in Yangzhou, British officials in China, on instruction from the
foreign office in London, seized that occasion to demand that China abide by the
treaty.

To back their demands made on the Chinese government in Peking, the British
fleet made a show of force. By the time, though, that reports of British demands
and accounts of the accompanying sabre-rattling reached London, a new government
in England had replaced the one which had encouraged the aggressive policies in
China. The new leaders in Parliament denounced the former government's China
policy, and the loyal British press, half a world away and unable to check its
facts, launched a bitter public attack on the missionaries who'd brought this
nation to the brink of war.

The press accused the mission of demanding the protection of British gunboats in
their campaigns to get the Chinese people to change their religion at the mouth
of the cannon and point of the bayonet. For months, the China controversy raged
in Parliament and on the front pages of British newspapers. Quite naturally, Mr.
Burger at the home office of the China Inland Mission was pressed for an
official response.

But as he had heard nothing from the tailors about an appeals made to the
British Council for help, he could give no defense on behalf of the mission. He
had to send inquiries to China asking for details and then wait months for an
answer to return. Meanwhile, public criticism of the mission and Hudson Taylor's
leadership spread throughout England.

This most recent news from China caused some financial supporters to stop giving
to the China Inland Mission. Maria Taylor, writing to relieve her husband, sent
a long letter to the Burgers explaining all that had happened in Yangzhou.
Concluding that letter, she said, As to the harsh judging of the world or the
poor painful misunderstandings of Christian brethren, we generally feel that the
best plan is to go on with our work and leave it to God to vindicate our cause.

But it is right that you should know intimately how we have acted and why. I
would suggest, however, that it would be undesirable to print the fact that Mr.
Medhurst, the Council General, and through him, Sir Rutherford Alcock, took the
matter up with application from us. The new ministry at home censors those out
here for the policy which the late ministry enjoined upon them.

It would be ungenerous and ungrateful were we to render their position still
more difficult by throwing all the onus, so to speak, on them. By this time,
Hudson, through his own negotiations, had managed to resettle the mission at
Yangzhou. As to the storm that continued back in England, there was nothing to
do but pray and wait for the criticism to die down.

In March, the Yangzhou matter stirred passionate debate in the House of Lords,
where the Duke of Somerset went so far as to propose that all British
missionaries be brought back from China before they cause any more trouble. And
a concerned Mr. Berger wrote to tell Hudson, You can scarcely imagine what an
effect it is producing in the country. Thank God I can say none of these things
have moved me.

I believe he has called us to this work, and it is not for us to run away from
or allow difficulties to overcome us. Be of good courage. The battle is the
Lord's.

At the same time, this storm of criticism sprang up at home. Another long
brewing crisis came to a head within the mission in China. The small group of
missionaries who complained of Hudson's leadership and policies from the
beginning had recently created more trouble by giving up their Chinese dress and
subsequently getting expelled from that city where they were stationed.

Hudson and Maria had graciously accepted them back at their own station, but
when they still refused to take up Chinese dress and continued to oppose
Hudson's leadership, he finally, with sadness, asked for their resignations.
Though all but that handful of dissenters backed Hudson's decision, the
malcontents accounted the problem when it reached England, only added to the
controversy and prompted even more supporters to reconsider their giving. This
thrust the small mission into a state of crisis both at home and in China.

Hudson felt the strain and wrote home asking his friends, Pray for us. We need
much grace. You cannot conceive the daily calls there are for patience, for
forbearance, for tact in dealing with the many difficulties and
misunderstandings that are rise among so many persons of different nationality,
language and temperament.

Pray the Lord ever to give me the single eye, the clear judgment, the wisdom and
gentleness, the patient spirit, the unwavering purpose, the unshaken faith, the
Christlike love needed for the efficient discharge of my duties. And ask him to
send us sufficient means and suitable helpers for the great work which we have
yet barely commenced. Despite the conflict and turmoil, the mission staff in
China continued its pioneer evangelism in new territory.

Even before the Yangzhou matters were settled and the mission returned there,
Hudson had taken an important journey up the Grand Canal to a city from which he
hoped to reach the northern provinces. And James Meadows had left his work at
Ningpo to others that he might lead in advance into the first inland province
western, from, or westward, from Qingyang on Hui, where there lived 20 million
Chinese people without a single Protestant missionary. But instead of the
increasing number of missionaries and the additional finances that they'd been
praying for to expand their work, the controversy at home drastically cut the
financial resources the home office was able to send.

Their prayers had to be answered in another totally unexpected way. There lived
a penniless man in England at the time, a man literally with no more resources
than the birds of the air or lilies of the field, who was already supporting a
family of 2,000 orphaned children without a cent of endowment, without an appeal
of any kind for help, without even letting their wants be known to anyone but
the Father in Heaven. George Mueller and his faith had for years been an
inspiration to Hudson Taylor and to many others.

In addition to the demands of his own great work in Bristol, George Mueller had
always contributed to direct missionary work overseas. He regularly prayed for
funds which he could use to help support the work of various missions in China
and elsewhere. He'd been contributing regularly and generously to Hudson
Taylor's work for several years, but no sooner had the Yangtze Riot taken place,
long before the news could have ever reached England, than George Mueller felt
led to send extra money to the China Inland Mission.

Within a day or two of the riot, he wrote to Mr. Berger asking for the names of
other additional members of the mission whom he might add to his list for
ministry and prayer. Mr. Berger sent him six names from which to choose, and his
choice was to take them all. And that next year, when the shortness of funds in
China were being most seriously felt, Mr. Mueller wrote again, increasing his
support.

While that letter was still on its way, Hudson wrote to one of the mission
workers, over a thousand pounds less has been contributed during the first half
of this financial year than last. I do not keep a cook now. I find it cheaper to
have cooked food brought in from an eating house at a dollar a head per month.

Let us pray in faith for funds that we may not have to diminish our work. Always
more than willing to diminish his own comforts, Hudson intended never to
diminish our work. Within days, he received George Mueller's letter, which said,
My dear brother, the work of the Lord in China is more and more laid on my
heart, and hence I've been longing and praying to be able to assist it more and
more with means as well as with prayer.

Of late, I have especially had a desire to help all the dear brethren and
sisters with you and with pecuniary means. This I desired especially that they
might see that I was interested in them personally. This my desire the Lord has
now fulfilled.

The eleven checks enclosed were for all the members of the mission. Mr. Mueller
had not previously been supporting. Another letter from Mr. Berger arrived in
the same mail.

Mr. Mueller, after due consideration, has requested the names of all the
brethren and sisters connected with the CIM as he thinks it well to send help as
he is able to each one, unless we know of anything to hinder. Surely the Lord
knew that our funds were sinking and thus put it into the heart of his honored
servant to help. It wasn't just the money George Mueller sent that encouraged
them, though Mr. Mueller's donations to the China Inland Mission over the next
several years amounted to $10,000 annually, exactly the amount the mission's
income had declined in the wake of the Yangzhou controversy.

It was knowing that this great man of faith was praying for their needs that
made his gifts all the more encouraging. His words had bolstered the
missionaries when he told them in the letter he sent with the first checks, My
chief objective is to tell you that I love you in the Lord, and that I feel
deeply interested about the Lord's work in China, and that I pray daily for you.
I thought it might be a little encouragement to you in your difficulties and
your trials and hardships and disappointments, to hear of one more who feels for
you and who remembers you before the Lord.

If were it otherwise, had you even no one to care for you, or did you at least
seem to be in a position as if no one did care for you, you will always have the
Lord to be with you. Remember Paul's case at Rome, 2 Timothy 4, verses 16 to 18.
Quote, On him then reckon, to him look, to him depend, and be assured that if
you walk with him, look to him and expect help from him, he will never fail you.

An older brother who has known the Lord for 44 years, who writes this, says for
your encouragement that he has never failed him. In the greatest difficulties,
in the heaviest trials, in the deepest poverty and necessities, he has never
failed me. But because I was enabled by his grace to trust him, he has always
appeared for my help.

I delight in speaking well of his name. Such words were greatly needed by Hudson
Taylor himself. While outwardly he appeared a solid rock, an inspiration to
faith for all his young colleagues, the strain of responsibility grew heavier
and heavier.

Though reports of wonderful progress at new station after station heartened him,
the burden of the growing work weighed on his mind and heart. He couldn't seem
to shake the deep inner depression that deprived him of any sense of peace.
Early in 1869, he exposed his heart and his hurt in a letter to his parents.

I have often asked you to remember me in prayer. And when I have done so, there
has been much need of it. The need has never been greater than at present.

Envied by some, despised by many, hated by others, often blamed for things I
never heard of or had nothing to do with, an innovator on what have become
established rules of missionary practice, an opponent of mighty systems of
heathen error and superstition, working without precedent in many respects and
with few experienced helpers, often sick in body, and embarrassed by
circumstances, had not the Lord been specially gracious to me, had not my mind
been sustained by the conviction that the work is his and that he is with me in
what so no empty figure to call the thick of the conflict, I must have fainted
or broken down. But the battle is the Lord's and he will conquer. We may fail,
do fail continually, but he never fails.

Still, I need your prayers, more than ever. My position becomes continually more
and more responsible and my need greater of special grace to fill it. But I have
continually to mourn that I follow at such a distance and learn so slowly to
imitate my precious master.

I cannot tell you how I'm buffeted sometimes by temptation. I never knew how bad
a heart I have. Yet I do know that I love God and love his work and desire to
serve him only and in all things.

And I value above all else that precious savior in whom alone I can be accepted.
Often I'm tempted to think that one so full of sin cannot be a child of God at
all. But I try to throw it back and rejoice all the more in the preciousness of
Jesus and the riches of the grace that has made us accepted in the beloved.

Beloved, he is of God. Beloved, he ought to be of us. But oh, how short I fall
again.

May God help me to love him more and serve him better. Do pray for me. Pray that
the Lord will keep me from sin, will sanctify me wholly, will use me more
largely in his service.

Despite a faith that had brought him around the world to lead a mission into
China, Hudson Taylor had never felt so inadequate and he never desired God's
help more. 1869 Months passed. Hudson kept constantly on the move, his time
divided mostly between the mission's two semi-official headquarters in Xinjiang,
where the mission's printing press was located, and Yangzhou, while with his
rapidly growing Chinese church.

Summer yet brought another bout of serious illness that weakened Hudson for over
a month. He hadn't even regained his strength before he embarked on yet another
strenuous journey up the canal to provide medical help for Mr. Judd, who was
dangerously ill himself. The Gordons, who were stationed at Zhaozhu, came to
consult with him about problems in their work.

And the Duncans were on their way from Nanking for a special strategy session
with the leader of the mission. Hudson had never felt so worn out, pressured, or
discouraged. He clung desperately to the end of his physical, emotional, and
spiritual rope.

Amid a pile of mail on Hudson's desk, when he finally got back to Xinjiang, was
a letter from his young friend and colleague, John McCarthy, written from the
old home in Hangzhou. He knew something of Hudson's inner struggles because the
two of them had talked about them the last time they were together. Since then,
he had made a spiritual discovery that he wanted to share with this friend and
mentor.

In his letter to Hudson, he wrote the following, I do wish I could have a talk
with you now about the way of holiness. At the time you were speaking to me
about it, it was the subject of all others occupying my thoughts, not from
anything I read, so much as from a consciousness of failure, a constant falling
short of that which I felt should be aimed at, an unrest, a perpetual striving
to find some way by which one might continually enjoy that communion, that
fellowship, a time so real, but more often so visionary, so far off. Do you know
I now think that this striving, longing, hoping for better days to come is not
the true way to holiness, happiness, or usefulness.

It is better, no doubt, far better than being satisfied with poor attainments,
but not the best way after all. I've been struck with a passage from a book
entitled Christ is All. It says, The Lord Jesus received is holiness begun.

The Lord Jesus cherished is holiness advancing. The Lord Jesus counted upon is
never absent would be holiness complete. He is most holy who has most of Christ
within, enjoys most fully in the finished work.

It is defective faith which clogs the feet and causes many a fall. This last
sentence, I think, I now fully endorse. To let my loving Savior work in me his
will, my sanctification, is what I would live for by his grace.

Abiding, not striving or struggling, looking oft unto him, trusting him for
present power, resting in the love of an almighty Savior, in the joy of a
complete salvation from all sin, this is not new. And yet, tis new to me. I feel
as though the dawning of a glorious day had risen upon me.

I hail it with trembling, yet with trust. I seem to have got to the edge only,
but out of a boundless sea to have sipped only, but of that which fully
satisfied. Christ literally all seems to me.

Now the power, the only power for service, the only ground for unchanging joy.
How then to have our faith increased? Only by thinking of all that Jesus is and
all that he is for us. His life, his death, his work, he himself as revealed to
us in the word, to be the subject of our constant thoughts.

Not a striving to have faith, but a looking oft to the faithful one seems all we
need. A resting in the loved one entirely for time and eternity. Hudson wrote
afterwards about the impact of these words saying, as I read, I saw it all.

I looked to Jesus and when I saw, oh, how joy flowed. And on his next trip to
Yangzhou, he heartily greeted his friend there before he began pacing back and
forth across the room with his hands behind his back, excitedly explaining what
had happened to him. Oh, Mr. Judd, God has made me a new man.

God has made me a new man. And so it seemed to everyone who knew him. His friend
Judd wrote, he was a joyous man now, a bright, happy Christian.

He had been a toiling, burdened one before with latterly not much rest of soul.
It was rested in Jesus now and letting him do the work, which makes all the
difference. Whenever he spoke in meetings after that, a new power seemed to flow
from him.

Troubles did not worry him as before. He cast everything on God in a new way and
gave more time to prayer. Instead of working late at night, he began to go to
bed earlier, rising at 5 a.m. to give time to Bible study and prayer, often two
hours, before the work of the day began.

Only six months earlier, Hudson had lamented his spiritual weakness, saying, I
have continued to mourn that I follow at such a distance and learn so slowly to
imitate my precious master. But this was no longer an imitation. He now
experienced the truth the Apostle Paul described when he wrote that Christ
liveth in me.

Instead of bondage, Hudson felt an exciting new freedom within. Instead of
failure, he sensed victory. Instead of fear and weakness, he knew beyond doubt
that his Lord would be sufficient.

The difference seemed so amazing and so simple that Hudson wanted to share the
secret with anyone and everyone he knew, starting with friends and loved ones.
To his sister, Amelia Broomhall, whom he knew to be burdened by the cares and
responsibility of a family that grew to ten children, he wrote, So many thanks
for your dear long letter. I do not think you've written me such a letter since
our return to China.

I know it is with you as with me. You cannot, not you will not. Mind and body
will not bear more than a certain amount of strain or do more than a certain
amount of work.

As to work, mine was never so plentiful, so responsible, or so difficult. But
the weight and strain are all gone. The last month or more has been perhaps the
happiest of my life, and I long to tell you a little of what the Lord has done
for my soul.

I do not know how far I may be able to make myself intelligible about it, for
there is nothing new or strange or wonderful, and yet all is new. Perhaps I may
make myself more clear if I go back a little. Well, dearie, my mind has been
greatly exercised for six or eight months past, feeling the need personally and
for our mission of more holiness, life, power in our souls.

But personal needs stood first and was the greatest. I felt the ingratitude, the
danger, the sin of not living nearer to God. I prayed, agonized, fasted, strove,
made resolutions, read the Word more diligently, sought more time for
meditation, but all with no avail.

Every day, almost every hour, the consciousness of sin oppressed me. I knew that
if only I could abide in Christ, all would be well, but I could not. I would
begin the day with prayer, determined not to take my eye off Him for a moment,
but pressure of duties, sometimes very trying, and constant interruptions apt to
be so wearing, caused me to forget Him.

Then one's nerves get so fretted in this climate that temptations to
irritability, hard thoughts, and sometimes unkind words are all the more
difficult to control. Each day brought its register of sin and failure, of lack
of power. To will was indeed present with me, but how to perform I found not.

Then came the question, is there no rescue? Must it be thus to the end, constant
conflict and too often defeat? How could I preach with sincerity that to those
who received Jesus, to them He gave power to become the sons of God, that means
to be godlike, when it was not so in my own experience? Instead of growing
stronger, I seemed to be getting weaker and to have less power against sin, and
no wonder for faith and even hope were getting low. I hated myself, I hated my
sin, yet gained no strength against it. I felt I was a child of God.

His spirit in my heart would cry in spite of all, Abba Father, but to rise to my
privileges as a child, I was utterly powerless. I thought that holiness,
practical holiness, was to be gradually attained by a diligent use of the means
of grace. There was nothing I so much desired as holiness, nothing I so much
needed, but far from in any measure attaining it, the more I strove after it,
the more it eluded my grasp, till hope itself almost died out, and I began to
think that perhaps to make heaven the sweeter, God would not give it down here.

I do not think that I was striving to attain it on my own strength. I knew I was
powerless. I told the Lord so, and asked Him to give me help and strength.

Sometimes I almost believed that He would keep and uphold me, but on looking
back in the evening, alas, there was but sin and failure to confess and mourn
before God. I would not give you the impression that this was the only
experience of these long weary months. It was a too frequent state of soul, and
that towards which I was tending, which almost ended in despair.

And yet, never did Christ seem more precious, a Savior who could and would save
such a sinner. And sometimes there were seasons not only of peace, but of joy in
the Lord. But they were transitory, and at best there was a sad lack of power.

Oh, how good the Lord has been in bringing this conflict to an end. All the time
I felt assured that there was in Christ all I needed, but the practical question
was how to get it out. He was rich, truly, but I was poor.

He was strong, but I weak. I knew full well that there was in the root, the
stem, an abundant fatness, but how to get it into my puny branch was the
question. As gradually light dawned, I saw that faith was the only requisite,
was the hand to lay hold on His fullness and to make it mine.

But I had not this faith. I strove for faith, but it would not come. I tried to
exercise it, but in vain.

Seeing more and more the wondrous supply of grace laid up in Jesus, the fullness
of our precious Jesus, the fullness of our precious Savior, my guilt and
helplessness seemed to increase. Sins committed appeared but as trifles compared
with the sin of unbelief, which was their cause, which could not or would not
take God at His word, but rather made Him a liar. Unbelief was I, felt the
damning sin of this world, yet I indulged in it.

I prayed for faith, but it came not. What was I to do? When my agony of soul was
at its height, a sentence in a letter from dear McCarthy was used to remove the
scales from my eyes, and the Spirit of God revealed to me the truth of our
oneness with Jesus as I have never known it before. McCarthy, who had been much
exercised by the same sense of failure but saw the light before I did, wrote,
and I quote from memory, But how to get faith strengthened? Not by striving
after faith, but by resting on the faithful one.

As I read, I saw it all. If we believe not, he abideth faithful. I looked to
Jesus and saw, and when I saw, oh joy flowed that he had said, I will never
leave thee.

Ah, there is the rest, I thought. I have striven in vain to rest in Him. I'll
strive no more.

For has not he promised to abide with me, never to leave me, never to fail me?
And deary, he never will. Nor was this all that he showed me, nor one half. As I
thought of the vine and the branches, what light the blessed Spirit poured
direct into my soul.

How great seemed my mistake in wishing to get the sap, the fullness out of him.
I saw not only that Jesus will never leave me, but thought I am a member of his
body, of his flesh, and of his bones. The vine is not the root merely, but all,
roots, stem, branches, twigs, leaves, flowers, fruit.

And Jesus is not that alone. He is soil and sunshine, air and showers, and ten
thousand times more than we've ever dreamed, wished for, or needed. Oh, the joy
of seeing this truth.

I do pray that the eyes of your understanding too may be enlightened, that you
may know and enjoy the riches freely given us in Christ. Oh, my dear sister, it
is a wonderful thing to be really one with the risen and exalted Savior, to be a
member of Christ. Just think what it involves.

Can Christ be rich and I poor? Can your right hand be rich and your left one
poor? Or your head be well fed while your body stars? Again, think of it as
bearing on prayer. Could a bank clerk say to a customer, It was only your hand,
not you that wrote the check. Or, I cannot pay this sum to your hand, but only
to yourself.

No more can your prayers or mine be discredited if offered in the name of Jesus.
That is, not for the sake of Jesus merely, but on the ground that we are His,
His members, so long as we keep within the limits of Christ's credit, a
tolerably wide limit. If we ask for anything unscriptural or not in accordance
with the will of God, Christ Himself could not do that.

But, if we ask anything according to His will, we know that we have the
petitions that we desire of Him. The sweetest part, if one may speak of one part
being sweeter than another, is the rest which full identification with Christ
brings. I am no longer anxious about anything.

As I realize this, for He, I know, is able to carry out His will, and His will
is mine. It makes no matter where He places me or how. That is rather for Him to
consider than for me.

For in the easiest position, He must give me His grace, and in the most
difficult, His grace is sufficient. It little matters to my servant whether I
send him to buy a few cash worth of things or the most expensive articles. In
either case, he looks to me for the money, and he brings me his purchases.

So, if God should place me in serious perplexity, must He not give me such
guidance? In positions of great difficulty, much grace. In circumstances of
great pressure and trial, much strength. No fear that resources will prove
unequal to the emergency.

And His resources are mine, for He is mine, and is with me, and dwells in me.
And since Christ has thus dwelt in my heart by faith, how happy I have been. I
wish I could tell you about it instead of writing.

I am no better than before. In a sense, I do not wish to be, nor am I striving
to be. But I am dead and buried with Christ.

I am risen too. And now Christ lives in me, and the life that I now live in the
flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for
me. And now I must close.

I have not said half I would, nor as I would, had I more time. May God give you
to lay hold on these blessed truths. Do not let us continue to say and effect,
who shall ascend into heaven? That is to bring Christ down from above.

In other words, do not let us consider Him as far off, when God has made us one
with Him, members of His very own body. Nor should we look upon this experience,
these truths, as for the few. They are the birthright of every child of God, and
no one can dispense with them without dishonoring our Lord.

The only power for deliverance from sin, or for true service, is Christ. It all
seems so simple and practical, as Hudson's sister discovered for herself. But
are you always conscious of abiding in Christ? Someone asked Hudson many years
later.

While sleeping last night, he replied, did I cease to abide in your home because
I was unconscious of that fact? We should never be conscious of not abiding in
Christ. The discovery of this simple secret soon changed Hudson Taylor's life
and ministry in ways that he could never even have imagined before. 1869-1870
Hudson had written, I am no longer anxious about anything, for He, I know, is
able to carry out His will, and His will is mine.

But that declaration of renewed faith was tested to its limits in the following
few months, as his duties piled up and storms of conflict again batted the
little mission and its work. A sampling of his correspondence hints at the load
of responsibility he carried that fall. To one of the missionaries at Nanking,
he wrote on October 8, 1869, Business is very pressing, but it does not hinder
my joy in the Lord.

I enclose the first six pages of your valuable little book and am buying Chinese
type to print it. Later that day, to another member of the mission, he wrote,
The mission funds are lower than they were before. From Yangzhou on October 27,
he reported, Our work here is very encouraging at present.

We cannot too much thank God for this. Five persons have been baptized, eight
others are about ready to be received, and several more will, I trust, follow
after a little time. It is the provincial examination at present, and the daily
congregations are large and attentive.

To another missionary at Tai Zaopu on October 30, I would ask you to remember
funds in prayer. They are lower than they have ever been. Yet we are not and
have not been forsaken or lacking ever really, and we assuredly shall not be if
we have faith as a mustard seed.

And in the letter to the new mission station at Anqing the next day, it occurs
to me to add that some of the members of the mission may be unaware of the
amount of labor involved in serving them. It is a real pleasure, but it is
nonetheless onerous. For instance, I have to write to Mr. Mueller to thank him
for your check.

To Mr. Lord, asking him kindly to sell as he gets a better price than the
Shanghai banks will give, then to enter it into his account and in my cash
account, then to send the amount to Mr. Hart with a note requesting him kindly
to forward it. Of course, I must also advise you of it, but this may not involve
special writing. I thank God for permitting me to be a hewer of wood and a
drawer of water in his glorious work and to do cheerfully what little I can do
to help.

Only regretting the impossibility of doing all that all wishes. Just now, I have
seven different portions of Old and New Testament and long tracks sent me in
several dialects with requests to revise them. This, if possible of all, is the
work of weeks, if not months.

Yet, I am praying for guidance as to whether I may not have to leave tonight for
one of our most distant stations on account of a case of sickness. Political
unrest in China continually fanned the flames of fear, resentment, and hatred
toward all Europeans, including missionaries. In November, word of a riot in
Anqing brought with it rumor that all of the foreigners in that city had been
killed.

And even after anxiety was eased by reliable reports that all the China Inland
Mission missionaries and their small children had escaped, Anqing without
injury, concerned remained that about this incident, like the Yanzhou riot,
would stir up even greater criticism at home. To his mother, Hudson wrote, I am
more happy in the Lord than I have ever been and enjoy more leisure of soul,
casting more fully every burden on him who alone is able to bear all. To be
content with God's will and way is rest.

Things may not be in many respects as I would wish them, but if God permits them
to be so or so orders them, I may well be content. Mine is to obey, his to
direct. Hence, I'm not only able to bear up against the new trial of Anqing, but
to be fully and satisfied about it.

Not to wish it otherwise, but to thank God for it. Even so, father, for so it
seemed good in thy sight. Still, you will pray much for us all, will you not?
Hudson and Maria spent a particularly happy Christmas that year together with
their children in Yangzhou, but their celebration didn't include the traditional
English roast beef and plum pudding, according to a report by one of the new
missionaries.

Mr. C.T. Fish wrote, They lived exclusively on Chinese food, and I well remember
the difficulty we had in hunting up a knife, fork, and spoon when a foreigner,
unskilled in the use of chopsticks, came to Yangzhou. Condensed milk was not yet
on the market, and they used few, if any, foreign items. There was one luxury,
however, a big barrel of treckle, a form of molasses, that had recently come out
on the lumber mirror.

This was eaten with rice and much appreciated. That season, as they had many
times before, Hudson and Maria scrimped on their own personal expenses so that
they could share from their own accounts with the other missionaries under their
leadership. And it wasn't just their money that they were generous with, but
also their time, attention, and concern.

As Mr. Fish indicated in writing, I was much touched by Mr. Taylor's amiability.
He was very kind to me. I helped him in his dispensary and medical work, and was
with him a good deal whenever he was in Yangzhou.

He guided my studies. He was, of course, exceedingly busy, and appeared quite
young and a lively man. He loved playing with his children and did not seem
burdened with care.

He was fond of music and singing, and used to play the harmonium for the Chinese
on Sunday evenings for an hour at a time, and have them sing hymns. Despite the
pressures, Hudson and Maria seemed happier that fall and winter than ever
before. Yangzhou had become a more of a home for the entire Taylor family than
any other city where they had lived in China.

When duties called both parents away from home for a time, the children were
left in the able and loving care of Hudson's secretary, Miss Emily Blatchley,
who came out on the lammermuir with the Taylors, and had since become Hudson's
personal secretary. But when the traveling parents would return, there were many
warm and wonderful family reunions in the Yangzhou home. Despite their great
love for their children, and also because of their love, when spring came in
1870, Hudson and Maria made what was perhaps the most difficult decision in
their married lives.

There wasn't any school in China where the children could get an adequate
education, and they dared not risk the heat and disease of another Chinese
summer for their older children. They felt especially concerned about the
deteriorating health of their five-year-old son, Samuel. For a time, the Taylors
talked with Maria and about her returning with the children to England.

But Emily Blatchley volunteered to go for the children in England so that Maria
could stay and help Hudson continuing the work. Though that seemed the wisest
decision, the thought of separation from their four oldest children, the infant
son born in the wake of the Yangzhou riot, would be the only one staying with
them. It seemed a painful prospect for both parents.

But as the day for their parting approached, Hudson shared his emotions in a
letter to his mother. God will provide. Oh, he is a father.

My precious mother, you can enter somewhat into our feelings as this dark cloud
draws near. Sometimes it seems for a while to take all one's strength and heart
away. But God does and will help us.

It is so good of him to have given us to know more than we ever have known of
his heart, his love, his gift, his joy, before calling us to take this step. He
knows, as we did not know, that we can do all things through Christ, our
Strengthener, and would not faint nor be ungrateful. And there are many mercies
connected with this trial.

Dear Miss Blatchley's love and self-sacrifice we can never repay. Next to
ourselves, the children love her and she them. She knows just what our wishes
are regarding them, in sickness and in health.

I am sure you will do what you can to help her. And you will especially pray for
my dear Maria. With all the bustle of preparation and the excitement of
departure are over, then will come the trying time of reaction.

But the Lord, whose work calls for the separation, can and will support. As that
day approached, Samuel's chronic illness grew worse. And when he finally began
to improve, the entire family set out by boat from Yangzhou en route to Shanghai
to book passage for the children to England.

The boat wasn't even out of sight in Yangzhou when the little boy, Samuel,
experienced a relapse. All night, Hudson and Maria had nursed their sick child.
But at dawn the next morning, aboard the small boat floating down the middle of
the Great Yangtze River, Samuel slipped into unconsciousness and died.

Through a driving rainstorm, Hudson and Maria crossed to the far side of the
two-mile-wide river to bury their son in a little cemetery in Shenyang. As
painful as the prospect of separation from their children was, Samuel's death
and its reminder of the little girl they had already buried in Chinese soil
confirmed in the tailors' minds that their difficult decision was the right one
for their children. The older boys and their little girl had to go back to
England.

In Shanghai, a few weeks later, after escorting the three children and Emily
Blatchley aboard a French mail ship set to sail at daybreak, Hudson wrote to his
friend, Mr. Berger. I have seen them awake for the last time in China. About two
of our little ones, we have no anxiety.

They rest in Jesus' bosom. And now, dear brother, through the tears, though they
will not be stayed, I do thank God for permitting one so unworthy to take any
part in this great work, not mine or yours, and yet it is ours, not because we
are engaged in it, but because we are his. And one with him whose work it is.

Never had there been a more troubled time during all their years in China, but
through it all, the tailors were confident that they made the right decision
about their children. I could not but admire and wonder at the grace that so
sustained and comforted the fondest of mothers, Hudson wrote of Maria. The
secret was that Jesus was satisfying the deep thirst of heart and soul.

All manner of sickness raged through the China Inland Mission stations
throughout that year. Before they even reached Ch'ing-Yang again, after parting
from the children, they were met with the news that Mrs. Judd was in that city
at the point of death. Hudson couldn't leave that boat because of another
critically ill patient on board.

So it was decided that Maria would hurry ahead by land to Ch'ing-Yang to offer
what help she could. After days and nights of nursing his wife, Mr. Judd had
come to the end of his own strength when he heard sounds of someone arriving in
the courtyard below. Who could it be at that time of night and where had they
come from? No steamer had passed upriver and native boats would not be traveling
after dark.

Maria Taylor, six months pregnant, having ridden all day over rough roads in a
wheelbarrow, came rushing into the house. As Mr. Judd himself later recalled,
Suffering though Mrs. Taylor was at the time and worn with hard traveling, she
insisted on my going to bed and that she would undertake the nursing. Nothing
would induce her to rest.

No, she said, you have quite enough to bear without sitting up at night anymore.
Go to bed, for I shall stay with your wife whether you do or not. Never can I
forget the firmness and love with which it was said.

Her face, meanwhile, shining with the tenderness of him in whom it was her
Taylor's minds that their difficult decision was the right one for their
children. The older boys and their little girl had to go back to England. In
Shanghai, a few weeks later, after escorting the three children and Emily
Blatchley aboard a French mail ship set to sail a daybreak, Hudson wrote to his
friend, Mr. Berger, I have seen them awake for the last time in China.

About two of our little ones, we have no anxiety. They rest in Jesus's bosom.
And now, dear brother, through the tears, though they will not be stayed, I do
thank God for permitting one so unworthy to take any part in this great work,
not mine or yours, and yet it is ours, not because we are engaged in it, but
because we are his and one with him whose work it is.

Never had there been a more troubled time during all their years in China, but
through it all, the Taylors were confident that they made the right decision
about their children. I could not but admire and wonder at the grace that so
sustained and comforted the fondest of mothers, Hudson wrote of Maria. The
secret was that Jesus was satisfying the deep thirst of heart and soul.

All manner of sickness raged through the China Inland Mission stations
throughout that year. Before they even reached Ch'ing-Yang again, after parting
from the children, they were met with the news that Mrs. Judd was in that city
at the point of death. Hudson couldn't leave that boat because of another
critically ill patient on board.

So it was decided that Maria would hurry ahead by land to Ch'ing-Yang to offer
what help she could. After days and nights of nursing his wife, Mr. Judd had
come to the end of his own strength when he heard sounds of someone arriving in
the courtyard below. Who could it be at that time of night and where had they
come from? No steamer had passed upriver and native boats would not be traveling
after dark.

Maria Taylor, six months pregnant, having ridden all day over rough roads in a
wheelbarrow, came rushing into the house. As Mr. Judd himself later recalled,
Suffering though Mrs. Taylor was at the time and worn with hard traveling, she
insisted on my going to bed and that she would undertake the nursing. Nothing
would induce her to rest.

No, she said, you have quite enough to bear without sitting up at night anymore.
Go to bed for I shall stay with your wife whether you do or not. Never can I
forget the firmness and love with which it was said.

Her face, meanwhile, shining with the tenderness of him in whom it was her joy
and strength to abide. The patient finally pulled through, but that
disease-filled summer would yet take its toll on the mission and an even greater
danger threatened. Hudson wrote, Politically, we are facing a crisis.

If our government continues their present, I almost said mad, policy, war must
result. In the meantime, our position is becoming almost embarrassing. You can
scarcely judge how intricate our path seems at times.

As the summer heat intensified, he wrote again to friends of the mission. We had
previously known something of trial in one station or another, but now in all
simultaneously or near so a widespread excitement shook the very foundations of
native society. It is impossible to describe the alarm and consternation of the
Chinese when they first believed that native magicians were bewitching them or
their indignation and anger when told that these insidious foes were the agents
of foreigners.

It is well known how in Tingjin they rose and barbarously murdered the Sisters
of Charity, the priests and even the French council. What then restrained them
in the interior where our brothers were alone, far from any protecting human
power? Nothing but the mighty hand of God in answer to united, constant prayer
in the all-prevailing name of Jesus. And this same power kept us satisfied with
Jesus, with his presence, his love, and his providence.

In the wake of the Tingjin massacre, in which 21 foreigners were killed, the
decision was made to send all the women and children out to the coastal cities.
For a time, it seemed as though the Chinese authorities might require them to
leave the country altogether. The situation required much correspondence with
officials, Chinese and foreign, and frequent letters to those workers most in
peril.

Meanwhile, the accommodations of the mission house in Xinjiang were taxed to the
utmost with extra borders. So widespread was the unrest that no additional
premises could be obtained. Old times seem to be coming round again, Hudson
wrote to Emily Blatchley in June, referring to the now-famous Yangzhou riot.

But with this difference, that our anxieties are not as before confined to one
place. By this time, it looked as though the river stations might have to be
given up. The tailors moved to Xinjiang since its location was more central than
Yangzhou.

Hudson himself slept on the floor in the sitting room or in a hallway every
night so that Maria could share their room with other ladies. He wrote to
Yangzhou near the end of June. One difficulty follows another very fast, but God
reigns, not chance.

At Nanking, the excitement has been frightful. Here the rumors are, I hope,
passing away. But at Yangzhou, they are very bad.

Pray for us much. My heart is calm, but my head is sorely tried by the constant
succession of one difficulty after another. In spite of the continuing illness,
the political tension, and the expected arrival of a baby any time, Maria's work
went on.

In the hottest days of the summer, she wrote Emily Blatchley to report, We have
been holding classes on Sunday and two or three evenings in the week to interest
the Chinese Christians who can read and searching the scriptures and those who
cannot read in learning to do so. And to set an example to the younger members
of the mission who know pretty well that we have no lack of work. It may be a
practical proof to them of the importance we attach to securing that the
Christians and others about us learn to read and understand for themselves the
word of God.

Yet even in the midst of his growing troubles, Hudson's joy and excitement over
his recent spiritual discovery remained evident to everyone around him. For
example, after carefully answering questions from one of the mission workers
about the continuing work in Yangzhou, he added these words of encouragement,
And now I have the very passage for you and God has so blessed it to my own
soul, John 7, 37 to 39. If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink.

Who does not thirst? Who has not mind thirst, soul thirst or body thirst? Well,
no matter which or whether I have them all, come unto me and remain thirsty? Ah,
no. Come unto me and drink. What? Can Jesus meet my need? Yes, and more than
meet it.

No matter how intricate my path, how difficult my service, no matter how sad my
bereavement, how far away my loved ones, no matter how helpless I am, how deep
are my soul yearnings, Jesus can meet all, all and more than meet. He not only
promises me rest, ah, how welcome that would be, were it all, and what in all
that one word embraces. He not only promises me drink to alleviate my thirst, no
better than that.

He who trusts me in this matter, who believeth on me, takes me at my word, out
of him shall flow. Can it be? Can the dry and thirsty one not only be refreshed,
the parched soul moistened, the arid places cooled, but the land be so saturated
that springs well up and streams flow down from it? Even so, and not mere
mountain torrents, full while the rain lasts, then dry again, but from within
him shall flow rivers, rivers like the mighty yanks, ever deep, ever full. In
times of drought, brooks may fail, often do, canals may be pumped dry, often
are, but the yanks never.

Always a mighty stream, always flowing deep, irresistible. In yet another June
letter he wrote, Come unto me and drink, not come and take a hasty draught, not
come and slightly alleviate, or for a short time remove one's thirst, no, drink
or be drinking, constantly, habitually. The cause of thirst may be irremediable.

One coming, one drinking may refresh and comfort, but we are to be ever coming,
ever drinking, no fear of emptying the fountain or exhausting the river. Yet
again this new and deeper sense of faith would soon be tested. On July 7, 1870,
Maria gave birth for the seventh time, and Hudson wrote his parents, telling
them the news.

How graciously the Lord has dealt with me and mine. How tenderly did he bring my
loved one through the hour of trial and give us our last born, Noel. How I
thanked him as I stroked the soft, silky hair and nestled the little one in my
bosom, and how she loved him.

When with a father's joy and pride, I brought him to her for her first kiss, and
together we gave him to the Lord. But immediately upon giving birth, perhaps it
had started even before, cholera struck Maria. She quickly grew too sick to
nourish the baby, and before a Chinese wet nurse could be found, the little baby
died.

Maria's own life hung precariously in the balance. Hudson's same letter
continued, Though excessively prostrated in body, the deep peace of soul, the
realization of the Lord's own presence and joy in his holy will, with which she
was filled, and which I was permitted to share, I can find no words to describe.
Maria herself chose the hymns to be sung at the baby's funeral.

One hymn, O Holy Savior, Friend Unseen, seems to linger in her mind. The words
go, Though faith and hope are often tried, they ask not, need not, ought beside,
so safe, so calm, so satisfied, the souls that cling to thee. They fear not
Satan or the grave, they know thee near and strong to save, nor fear to cross
even Jordan's wave, while still they cling to thee.

Weak as she was, Maria was not worried about her own health. At the age of
thirty-three, she had always been strong, and she felt no pain. She was far from
anxious to hear word from England about their children than she was for her own
health.

When word came on July twenty-one in a letter from Mrs. Berger saying that all
three children and Mrs. Blatchley had arrived safely at St. Hall, it was the
most comforting correspondence Maria had ever received. Even her friend's gentle
and loving words gave her a sense of peace. And now farewell, precious friend.

Mrs. Berger had written, The Lord throw around you his everlasting arms. Two
days later, Maria Taylor took a turn for the worse. In the early morning hours
of Saturday July twenty-three, eighteen-seventy, Maria slept peacefully.

So Hudson left her a few moments to prepare breakfast. While he was gone, she
awakened and called out. He described his return to her side this way, By the
time it was dawn and the sunlight revealed what the candle had hidden, the
death-like hue of her countenance, even my love could no longer deny, nor not
her danger, but that she was actually dying.

As soon as I was sufficiently composed, I said, My darling, do you know that you
are dying? Dying? She replied. Do you think so? What makes you think so? I said,
I can see it, darling. Your strength is giving way.

Can it be so? I feel no pain, only weariness. Yes, you are going home. You will
soon be with Jesus.

I'm so sorry, she said, and paused as if half-correcting herself for the
feeling. You are not sorry to be going to be being with Jesus, are you? Never
shall I forget the look with which she answered. Oh, no, it's not that.

You know, darling, that for ten years past, there has not been a cloud between
me and my Savior. I cannot be sorry to go to him. But it does grieve me to leave
you alone at such a time.

Yet, he will be with you and meet all your needs. Little was said after that. A
few loving messages to those back in England, a few last words about the
children, and then Maria slipped into an unconscious sleep.

As the summer sun rose over the city, the hills, and the great Yanzi River, the
busy hum of life spread throughout the streets and courtyards all around. But it
was very quiet in that small upstairs room. George Duncan's wife, who was
staying with the Taylors, wrote, I never witnessed such a scene.

As dear Mrs. Taylor was breathing her last, Mr. Taylor knelt and committed her
to the Lord, thanking him for having given her and for twelve and a half years
of perfect happiness together, thanking him too for taking her to his own
presence and solemnly dedicating himself anew to his service. At 9 a.m., Maria
Taylor took her last quiet and peaceful breath. Earlier that same year, Hudson
Taylor had written, My thirsty days are all past, claiming as true Jesus's
promise, He that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me
shall never thirst.

Could that promise hold true now? Back on July 11th, when his newborn son and
Maria were both gravely ill, Hudson had written to his mother, I find increasing
comfort in the thought that all things are really in our Father's hand, and
under His governance He cannot do but what is best. And now on August 4, he
wrote to her again, saying, I've just been reading over my last letter to you,
and my views are not changed, though chastened and deepened. From my inmost soul
I delight in the knowledge that God does or permits all things, and causes all
things to work together for good to those who love Him.

He and only He knew what my dear wife was to me. He knew how the light of my
eyes and the joy of my heart were in her. On the last day of her life, we had no
idea that it would be the last.

Our hearts were mutually delighted by the never-old story of each other's love.
And almost her last act was, with one arm around my neck, to place her hand on
my head, and as I believe, for her lips had lost their cunning, to implore a
blessing on me. But he saw that it was good to take her, good indeed for her,
and in his love he took her painlessly.

And not less good for me, who now must toil and suffer alone, for God is nearer
to me than ever. And now I have to tell him all my sorrows and difficulties, as
I used to tell dear Maria. And as she cannot join me in intercession, to rest in
the knowledge of Jesus's intercession, to walk a little less by feeling, a
little less by sight, a little more by faith.

And to Mr. Berger he wrote, When I think of my loss, my heart nigh to breaking,
rises in thankfulness to him who has spared her such sorrow and made her so
unspeakably happy. My tears are more tears of joy than grief, but most of all I
joy in God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, in his work, his ways, his providence
himself. He has given me to prove, to know by trial, what is that good and
acceptable and perfect will of God.

I do rejoice in that will, it is acceptable to me, it is perfect, it is love in
action. And soon in that sweet will, we shall be reunited to part no more.
Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am.

Despite that confident faith, Hudson still felt his grief, especially when a new
round of illness caused him long, sleepless nights. He later wrote, How lonesome
were the weary hours when confined to my room! How I missed my dear wife and the
voices of the children far away in England! Then it was I understood why the
Lord had made that passage so real to me. Whosoever drinketh of the water that I
shall give him shall never thirst.

Twenty times a day, perhaps, as I felt the heartthirst coming back, I literally
cried to him, Lord, you promised, you promised me that I should never thirst.
And whether I call by night or day, how quickly he came and satisfied my
sorrowing heart. So much so that I often wondered whether it were possible that
my loved one, who had been taken, could be enjoying more of his presence than I
was in my lonely chamber.

He did literally fulfill the prayer, Lord Jesus, make thyself to me a living,
bright reality, more present to faith's vision keen than any outward object
seen, more dear, more intimately nigh than e'en the sweetest earthly tie. Late
in August he wrote again to Mr. Burger saying, It is Sunday evening and I am
writing for Mr. White's bungalow. The cool air, the mellow, autumnal beauty of
the scene, the magnificent Jenks with Silver Island beautifully wooded, reposing
as it were on its bosom, combined to make one feel as if it were a vision of
dreamland rather than actual reality.

And my feelings accord. But a few moments ago my home was full, now so silent
and lonely. Samuel, Noel, my precious wife with Jesus, the elder children far,
far away, and even little Tien Bo, the son born after the Yang Tsao riots in
Yang Tsao where he was being cared for by a missionary wife.

Often of late years, his duty called me from my loved ones, but I have returned
and so warm has been the welcome. Now I am alone. Can it be that there is no
reward from this journey, no home gathering to look forward to? Is it real and
not a sorrowful dream that those dearest to me lie beneath the cold sod? Ah, it
is indeed true, but not more so than that there is a homecoming awaiting me
which no parting shall break into, no tears mar.

Love gave the blow that for a little while makes the desert more dreary, but
heaven more homelike. I go to prepare a place for you and it is not our part of
the preparation, the peopling it with those we love. I have been very ill since
I last wrote to you.

Through a severe attack of dysentery, my strength does not return rapidly. I
feel like a little child, but with the weakness of a child, I have the rest of a
child. I know my father reigns.

This meets all questions of every kind. I have heard today that war is broken
out in Europe between France and Prussia, that it is rumored that England joins
the former and Russia the latter. If so, fearful doings may be expected, but the
Lord reigneth.

Hudson's toddler son, Tingbo, suddenly became critically sick and the concerned
father took him to an island off the coast in the hopes that the change of
climate would save his life. He recovered only slowly. And even as Hudson tended
to the needs of his last child left in China and prayed for his recovery, he
thought often of his other children, a three-year-old daughter and the older
boys who were eight and nine, halfway around the world.

You do not know how often father thinks of his darlings and how often he looks
at your photographs till the tears fill his eyes. Sometimes he almost fears lest
he should feel discontented when he thinks how far away you are from him. But
then the dear Lord Jesus who never leaves him says, don't be afraid, I will keep
your heart satisfied.

And I thank him and am so glad that he will live in my heart and keep it right
for me. I wish you, my precious children, knew what it is to give your heart to
Jesus to keep every day. I used to try to keep my own heart right, but it would
always be going wrong.

So at last I had to give up trying myself and to accept the Lord's offer to keep
it for me. Don't you think that is the best way? Perhaps sometimes you think, I
will try not to be selfish or unkind or disobedient. And yet though you really
try, you do not succeed.

But Jesus says, you should trust that to me. I would keep that little heart if
you would trust me with it. And he would too.

Once I used to think very much and very often about Jesus, but I often forgot
him. Now I trust Jesus to keep my heart remembering him. And he does so.

This is the best way. Ask dear Miss Blatchley to tell you more about his way and
pray God to make it plain to you and to help you so trust Jesus. To Miss
Blatchley, Hudson had written about Maria's death saying, You will love them all
the more now that you can never again know a mother's care.

God will help you to bear with them and to try to correct them by lovingly
pointing out the right way rather than too frequent reproof. Don't do this or
that. This I feel is where I most failed with them.

And now there is only you to make up for my deficiencies. To his children, he
wrote yet again, My darling treasures, it is not very long since my last letter,
but I want to write again. I wonder if you will try to write me a little answer.

I've been thinking tonight if Jesus makes me so happy by always keeping near me
and talking to me every minute or two though I cannot see him. How happy darling
Mama must be. I'm so glad for her to be with him.

I shall be so glad to go to her when Jesus thinks it's best. But I hope he will
help me to be equally willing to live with him here so long as he has any work
for me to do for him and for poor China. Now, my darling children, I want you to
love Jesus very much.

And to know that he really does love you very, very much. Don't you think your
far off dear Papa would be well pleased to see you and talk to you and to take
you on his knee and kiss you? You know that he would. Well, Jesus will always be
far more pleased than you think of him with loving thoughts and speak to him
with loving words.

Don't think of him as some dreadful being. Think of him as very good and very
great, able to do everything, but is very gentle. And very kind.

To his remaining children now in England, he admonishes them to also love Jesus
with all their heart. And to begin each day with these words. Good morning, dear
Jesus.

I am so glad you have been by me all night and have taken care of me. Teach me
how much you love me. Take care of my heart.

Make it think good thoughts. Take care of my lips. Only let them speak kind,
good words.

Help me always to know what is right and to do it. He likes us to talk to him,
Hudson said. When I'm walking alone, I often talk aloud.

At other times, I talk to him in my heart. Do not forget, my darling children,
that he is always with you, awake or asleep, at home or elsewhere. He is really
with you, though you cannot see him.

So I hope you will try not to grieve so constant and kind a friend. To Emily
Blanchly, he wrote, I have written again to the dear children. I do long for
them to learn early the precious truths which have come so late to me concerning
oneness with and the indwelling of Christ.

These do not seem to me more difficult of apprehension than the truths of
redemption. Both need the teaching of the Spirit, nothing more. May God help you
to live Christ before these little ones and to minister him to them.

How wonderfully he has led and taught us. How little I believed the rest and
peace of heart I now enjoy were possible down here. It is heaven begun below, is
it not? Compare with this union with Christ, heaven or earth are unimportant
accidents.

There was, meanwhile, no easing of tensions in China. The claims made by
European countries concerning the Tingshan Massacre was now being ignored by the
Chinese government. Knowing that Europe was consumed by war, the Chinese
authorities did nothing to ease the anti-foreign agitation.

Hudson spelled out the seriousness of the situation in a letter he sent out at
the end of the year, calling friends and supporters to unite on December 31 in a
day of fasting and prayer for China. He wrote, The present year has been in many
ways remarkable. Perhaps every one of our number has been more or less face to
face with danger, perplexity and distress.

But out of it all, the Lord has delivered us. And some who have drunk more
deeply than ever before the cup of the man of sorrows can testify that it has
been a most blessed year to our souls and can give thanks for it. Personally, it
has been the most sorrowful and the most blessed year of my life.

And I doubt not that others have had in some measure the same experience. We
have put to the proof the faithfulness of God, His power to support in trouble
and to give patience under affliction, as well as to deliver from danger. And
should greater dangers await us, should deeper sorrows come, it is to be hoped
that they will be met in a strengthened confidence in our God.

We have great cause for thankfulness in one respect. We have been so situated as
to show the Chinese Christians that our position, as well as theirs, has been
and may again be one of danger. They have been helped, doubtless, to look from
foreign power to God Himself for protection by the fact that, one, the former
has been felt to be uncertain and unreliable, and, two, that we have been in
calmness and joy in our various positions of duty.

If in any measure we have failed to rest for ourselves in God's power to sustain
us or to protect us from danger, as He sees best, let us humbly confess this and
all conscious failure to our faithful covenant-keeping God. I trust we are all
fully satisfied that we are God's servants, sent by Him to the various posts
that we occupy, and that we are doing His work in them. He set before us the
open doors we have entered, and in past times of excitement He has preserved us.

We did not come to China because missionary work here was either safe or easy,
but because He had called us. We did not enter upon our present positions under
a guarantee of human protection, but relying on the promise of His presence. The
accidents of ease or difficulty, of apparent safety or danger, of man's approval
or disapproval, in no wise affect our duty.

Should circumstances arise involving us in what may seem special danger, we
shall have special grace, I trust, to manifest the depth and reality of our
confidence in Him and by faithfulness to our charge to prove that we are
followers of the Good Shepherd, who did not flee from death itself. But if we
would manifest such a spirit then, we must seek the needed grace now. It is too
late to look for arms and begin to drill when in presence of the foe.

As to the ongoing concerns over financial support of the mission, Hudson wrote,
I need not remind you of the liberal help which the Lord has sent us direct in
our time of need from certain donors, nor of the blessed fact that He abideth
faithful and cannot deny Himself. If we are really trusting in Him and seeking
from Him, we cannot be put to shame. If not, perhaps the sooner we find out the
unsoundness of any other foundation, the better.

The mission funds, or the donors, are a poor substitute for the living God.
Early in 1871, Hudson's liver ailment grew worse. His lungs caused not just
pain, but serious difficulty in breathing.

And the resulting sleepless nights caused a physical breakdown and spiritual
discouragement. There seemed no alternative but to journey home to recover his
health and to see to mission business back in England. Hudson had no idea what
desert dry times lay ahead, or how much he had yet to learn about Jesus's
promise to always quench the thirst of the thirsty.

1870-1873 In that eventful year of 1870, Hudson Taylor was still a young man in
his thirties. The China Inland Mission included 33 members and occupied stations
in three of China's twelve provinces. And all its Chinese converts were gathered
into a dozen small congregations.

Yet, after 16 years of demanding, health-breaking missionary service at great
personal cost, the loss of his wife and three of his beloved children, Hudson
hadn't lost sight of the goal. In fact, he felt more certain than ever that God
had called, and was still calling, him to evangelize the whole country of China,
as impossibly huge as the task seemed. So, it was a physically worn and weary
man, but by no means a defeated one who finally accepted the inevitable need to
journey once again to England to regain his health, and, of course, to do
whatever he could in the way of mission business while he was there.

Miss Ginny Falding, the youngest of the missionaries to accompany the Taylors on
the Lammermuir, and the one who had done such an impressive job heading up the
women's work at Hangzhou, had been due to go on furlough and had attempted to
purchase passage on an earlier ship. When those plans fell through, she happened
to be taking the same steamer Hudson took to England. During the two-month
voyage, Hudson found the respect and brotherly fondness he had always felt
toward Ginny quickly developing into more than friendship, and not long after
they reached England, Hudson and Ginny were married.

But despite this new cause for joy in his life and his quickly returning health,
the furlough, designed as a time of rejuvenation, instead brought a greater
level of new responsibility and added more work than Hudson had imagined. More,
it soon proved, than he could ever hope to handle. By the end of 1871, it became
clear that Mr. and Mrs. Berger, who had so generously cared for the home side of
the mission, could no longer continue their strenuous labors.

Failing health required them to spend winter abroad. St. Hill, the beautiful
home they so generously allowed to serve as the home headquarters of the China
Inland Mission, needed to be sold. Now all correspondence, account keeping,
editorial work, screening and testing of candidates, and day-to-day management
of the mission's business had to be assumed by someone else.

That someone was Hudson. There was no one beside Mr. Berger who knew enough
about the ongoing operation of the mission to step in. Hudson would have to stay
in England until other arrangements could be made.

And an impatient, discouraged Hudson Taylor realized that he had no idea what
those arrangements should be or how long they would take. More than ever before,
he felt the call of China and that great country's spiritual needs. But now, in
addition to his seemingly impossible responsibilities as director of the mission
in China itself, he was suddenly the mission's sole executive in charge of the
home office.

It wasn't much of an office. From the beautiful setting of St. Hill, the China
Inland Mission's headquarters had to be moved to Pireland Road, a little
suburban street in the north of London. And the change from Mr. Berger's
spacious library to the small back room which served as Hudson's personal study,
as well as mission headquarters, was just as extreme.

During this time, which must have seemed like an interval of serious setback for
the mission and for him personally, Hudson wrote, My path is far from easy. I
never was more happy in Jesus, and I'm very sure he will not fail us. But never
from the foundation of the mission have we been more cast upon God.

It is well doubtless that it should be so. Difficulties afford a platform upon
which we can show himself. Without them, we could never know how tender and
faithful and almighty our God is.

The change about Mr. and Mrs. Berger has tried me not a little. I love them so
dearly. And it seems another link severed with the past in which my precious
departed one, who is seldom absent from my thoughts, had a part.

But his word is, Beloved, I make all things new. After years of challenging,
exciting work in China, it must have been difficult indeed for Hudson to yield
to the routine of office work as weeks and months went by. Yet he found
contentment enough to write one of his fellow missionaries.

It is no small comfort to me to know that God has called me to my work, putting
me where I am, and as I am. I have not sought the position, and I dare not leave
it. He knows why he places me here, whether to do, or learn, or suffer.

He that believeth shall not make haste. That is no easy lesson for you or me,
but I honestly think that ten years would be well spent, and we should have full
value for them if we thoroughly learned in it those truths. Moses seems to have
been taken aside for forty years to learn it.

Meanwhile, let us beware alike of the haste of the impatient, impetuous flesh,
and of its disappointment and weariness. It certainly wasn't as if nothing was
being accomplished. Hudson made many new friends and contacts for the mission.

Numerous churches and groups asked him to speak to them about his experience and
work, and his witness and example attracted many young people to consider
missionary service in China. F. W. Ballard, for example, was one young man who
went on to become not only a pioneer missionary in China, but a noted linguist
and scholar of the Chinese language. At this time, however, he was merely a
bright young Londoner who had recently become a Christian and was curious about
what it would mean to become a missionary.

One day, he made his way to Parliament Road, where he found himself in a
painfully furnished room in which a small group of people were gathering for a
prayer meeting. He later recalled, a large text faced the door by which we
entered. It read, My God shall supply all your need.

And as I was not accustomed to seeing texts hung on walls in that way, it
decidedly impressed me. Between a dozen and twenty people were present. Mr.
Taylor, opening the meeting by giving out a hymn and seating himself at the
harmonium, led the singing.

His appearance did not impress me. He was slightly built and spoke in a quiet
voice. Like most young men, I suppose, I associated power with noise and looked
for a physical presence in a leader.

But when he said, Let us pray, and proceeded to lead the meeting in prayer, my
ideas underwent a radical change. I had never heard anyone pray like that. There
was a simplicity, a tenderness, a boldness, a power that hushed and subdued me
and made it clear that God had admitted him to the inner circle of his
friendship.

Such praying was evidently the outcome of long tearing in the secret place and
was a do from the Lord. I have heard many men pray in public since then, but the
prayers of Mr. Taylor and the prayers of Mr. Spurgeon stand all by themselves.
Who that heard could ever forget them.

It was the experience of a lifetime to hear Mr. Spurgeon pray, taking, as it
were, the great congregation of 6,000 people by the hand and leading them into
the holy place. And to hear Mr. Taylor plead for China was to know something of
what is meant by the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man. That meeting
lasted from four to six o'clock, but seemed one of the shortest prayer meetings
I have ever attended.

From the west of England, a young woman of education and refinement, Miss Salto,
had come to London to attend the Mid-May Conference, a large Christian meeting
held near the China Inland Mission headquarters. While at the conference, she
stayed as a guest at Pireland Road. She heard Mr. Taylor giving the opening
address of the conference when two or three thousand people crowded the great
hall and saw how he influenced leaders of Christian thought.

But it was in that everyday life of the mission house that Hudson Taylor most
impressed her, and was a big part of the inspiration that led her also into
missionary service in China. Long afterward, she wrote of those first days in
London. I remember Mr. Taylor's exhortation to keep silent to all around and let
our wants be known only to God.

One day when we had had a small breakfast and there was scarcely anything for
dinner, I was thrilled to hear him singing the children's hymn, Jesus loves me,
this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Then he called us together to praise the
Lord for his changeless love, to tell our needs and claim the promises. And
before the day was over, we were rejoicing in his gracious answers.

Far from being disheartened by the shortness of funds after Mr. Berger's
retirement, Hudson determined to press forward with the mission's goal. Standing
before the big map of China one day in the office at Pireland Road, he turned to
a few friends who were with him and asked, Have you faith to join me in laying
hold upon God for eighteen men to go two and two to the nine unevangelized
provinces? And the little group joined hands in front of the map to pray and
promise each other and God that they would each continue to pray every day for
the eighteen evangelists needed to meet the new goal. As the months in England
passed, a very promising solution was found to the problem of home leadership of
the mission.

Instead of one person like Mr. Berger who would devote most of his time and
service to the task, Hudson established a council of Christian friends who were
willing and able to divide among themselves the homework of the mission. The
work could go on without unduly overloading anyone on the council, and Hudson
and his new bride could finally go back to the front lines of the work in China.
Emily Blatchley would remain with the Taylor children at Pireland Road.

Being intimately acquainted with the mission's work in China and at home as a
result of her formal role as Hudson's personal secretary, she could provide
invaluable assistance to the council as well.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 5: HUDSON TAYLOR'S SPIRITUAL SECRETS #5
========================================================================

She would keep up the regular weekly prayer meeting and provide a center there
in London for returning missionaries. She would attend to daily business and
correspondence while passing along any letters the Council needed to handle. The
Council would be responsible for interviewing candidates, dispensing funds, and
keeping friends of the mission appraised of its work through the continuing
publication of the occasional paper.

Though confident that business at home was again in good hands, as they left
once more for China, funds were still low. The mission's bank account was a
paltry twenty-one pounds when the tailors set sail, but there was no debt, and
Hudson was able to write and a letter to friends of the mission. Now that the
work has grown, more helpers are needed at home, as abroad, but the principles
of action remain the same.

We shall seek pecuniary aid from God by prayer as heretofore. He will put it
into the hearts of those He sees fit to use to act as His channels. When there
is money in hand, it will be remitted to China.

When there is none, none will be sent, and we shall not draw upon home, so that
there can be no going into debt. Should our faith be tried as it has been
before, the Lord will prove Himself faithful as He has ever done. Nay, should
our faith fail, His faithfulness will not, for it is written, If we believe not,
yet He abideth faithful.

Never had Hudson needed that confidence more than when, after an absence of
fifteen months, he once again reached China. Sickness and other problems had
discouraged missionaries in several of the older, more established centers.
Hudson's old friend, George Duncan, had left Nanking due to illness and was even
then on his way back to England to die.

Even the little Chinese churches had dwindled, many stations were undermanned,
some had been closed. So much help and encouragement was needed that Hudson
hardly knew where to begin. Instead of planning for an advance to unreached
provinces, it looked like a major task just to build up the existing work to its
previous level.

In wintry weather, the snow deep on the ground, Hudson left his wife to attend
to the work in Hangzhou, and set off up the Grand Canal to Qingyang. It must
have seemed especially lonely to open up the empty mission house that had been
such a happy home to his family. From there he wrote his wife to say, I have
invited the church members and inquirers to dine with me tomorrow, Sunday.

I want them all to meet together. May the Lord give us His blessing. Though
things are sadly discouraging, they are not hopeless.

They will soon look up, by God's blessing, if they are looked after. That was
his attitude everywhere he went. Finally he was joined by his wife and Nanking
where together they spent three months working in direct evangelism.

From there he reported back home. Every night we gathered a large number by
means of pictures and lantern slides and preached to them Jesus. We had fully
five hundred in the chapel last night.

Some did not stay long, others were there nearly three hours. May the Lord bless
our stay here to souls. Every afternoon women come to see and to hear.

Evidence of his great inner strength was seen in a letter he wrote to Emily
Blatchley in which he asked, If you are ever drinking at the fountain, with what
will your life be running over? Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. It was a full cup of faith
that Hudson Taylor carried, and the overflow of that spirit proved to be just
what was needed by the mission in China. His visits accomplished their objective
of encouragement and were continued until he had been at least once to every
station and almost every outstation in the mission.

And his concern was not just for his fellow missionaries. Everywhere he went he
sought out the Chinese Christians to help and encourage them as well. When they
could be together his wife's assistance was invaluable.

They would work at times far into the night attending to correspondence. On
medical journeys she was often his companion, or she might remain at one station
where there was sickness while he went on to another. Repeatedly they felt
grateful for his medical knowledge, for there was no other doctor in the mission
or anywhere away from the treaty ports in those years.

Of course his medical expertise often added to his burden of work. For example,
Hudson once reached a distance station to find ninety-eight letters awaiting
him. Yet the very next day he took time to write a full page of medical
instructions about A-Ling's baby.

Now A-Ling was one of the valued Chinese helpers at Chin Yang. But whether it
meant longer letters or extra journeys, Hudson thanked God for any and every way
in which he could help. Because it was, as he said and showed many times, his
greatest desire to be servant of all.

After being back in China about nine months, Hudson wrote, The Lord is
prospering us and the work is steadily growing, especially in that most
important department, native help. The helpers themselves need much help, much
care and instruction, but they are becoming more efficient as well as more
numerous, and the hope of China lies doubtless in them. I look on foreign
missionaries as the scaffolding round a rising building.

The sooner it can be dispensed with, the better. Or the sooner, rather, that it
can be transferred to serve the same temporary purpose elsewhere. Winter came
again.

Yet the season seldom changed the number of demands on Hudson's time. In the
coldest of weather, he continued on the road. After ten out of twelve weeks
spent away from his wife, the two of them finally managed to meet at an empty
mission house at Feng Hua, where they enjoyed being together alone, truly alone,
for the first time since they had been married.

Their little honeymoon soon ended with a call for help. It came from the
Crombies whose only remaining children were on the verge of death. So Hudson set
off on a two-day journey over mountain passes drifted high with snow.

By the time he could return from there, another message arrived from an even
more distant station saying an entire family had come down with the smallpox.
Waiting only until his coolie arrived with his belongings, Hudson had raced
ahead to rejoin his wife. He set out again across the mountains on treacherously
icy trails that were sometimes nothing more than steps carved out of rock.

In the stress and strain of just keeping the mission going, it would have been
easy to forget about his dream of expanding the ministry, especially when funds
for the current work were none too plentiful. But Hudson couldn't forget.
Traveling from place to place on long journeys between the stations, through
populous county, teeming with friendly, accessible people, his heart went out
more and more to the unreached, both near and far.

He wrote to the council in London, Last week I was in Taiping. My heart was
greatly moved by the crowds that literally filled the streets for two or three
miles so that we could hardly walk, for it was market day. We did but little
preaching, for we were looking for a place for permanent work.

But I was constrained to retire to the city wall and cry to God to have mercy on
the people, to open their hearts and give us an entrance among them. Without any
seeking on our part, we were brought into touch with at least four anxious
souls. An old man found us out, I know not how, and followed me to our boat.

I asked him in and inquired his name. My name is Zing, he replied, but the
question which distresses me and to which I can find no answer is, what am I to
do with my sins? Our scholars tell us that there is no future state, but I find
it hard to believe them. Oh sir, I lie on my bed and think, I sit alone in the
daytime and think, I think and think and think again, but I cannot tell what is
to be done about my sins.

I am seventy-two years of age. I cannot expect to finish another decade. Today
knows not tomorrow's lot, as the saying is.

Can you tell me what to do with my sins? I can indeed, was my reply. It is to
answer this very question that we have come so many thousands of miles. Listen,
and I will explain to you what you want and need to know.

When my companions returned, he heard again the wonderful story of the cross and
left us soothed and comforted, glad to know that we had rented a house and hoped
soon to have Chinese Christians distributing Bibles and Christian literature in
that city. Something that he put into his Bible that I think we'll find most
interesting. It says, Ask God for fifty or a hundred additional native
evangelists and as many missionaries as may be needed to open up the four fews
and forty-eight cities still unoccupied in Qijiang.

Also for men to break into the nine occupied provinces. Ask in the name of
Jesus. And then here is one of his prayers.

I thank thee, Lord Jesus, for the promise whereon thou hast given me to rest.
Give me all needed strength of body, wisdom of mind, grace of soul to do this by
so great work. What followed that prayer wasn't renewed strength, but another
bout of serious illness.

Week after week he lay in bed suffering helplessly with hardly more than enough
energy to pray. Funds had been so low for months that he hardly knew how to
distribute the little that came in. There certainly was nothing with which to
begin expanding the work.

Still, we are going on to the interior, he had written to the secretaries in
London. I do so hope to see some of the destitute provinces evangelized before
long. I long for it by day and pray for it by night.

Can he care less? Never had advance seemed more impossible. But in his Bible was
the record of his prayer and in his heart was the conviction that even for
inland China, God's time had almost come. It was then while he was still in bed
recovering that he received a letter from England written two months before by a
woman he had never met.

Her trembling hand had written, My dear sir, I bless God, in two months I hope
to place at the disposal of your council for further extension of the China
inland missionary work, 800 pounds. Please remember, for fresh provinces. I
think your receipt form beautiful.

The Lord our banner, the Lord will provide. If faith is put before and praise
sent up, I am sure that Jehovah of hosts will honor it. 800 pounds for fresh
provinces? Even before he recorded his prayer in his Bible? The letter had been
sent and God had been answering his request.

Surely, he thought, the time for advancing the work had come. But Hudson
couldn't see the dark days that still lay ahead. 1872 to 1876.

Hudson was so encouraged by the answer to his prayer that he soon recovered
enough to travel back to the Yangtze Valley to find spring weather and a warm
new enthusiasm spreading throughout the mission. In Xinjiang, as in almost all
the stations, Chinese Christians seemed to be growing rapidly in their faith.
New converts came to the churches and Chinese leaders were encouraging and
instructing their own people.

Calling as many missionaries as could leave their stations, Hudson convened a
special conference in Xinjiang. All those who came found inspiration in the good
reports of their colleagues' progress. And the group joined together in prayer
with Hudson before he and Mr. Judd set out up the Great River in search of a new
base city from which he could move on into the westernmost provinces of China.

Before he left, Hudson wrote, Is it not good of the Lord to encourage us when we
are sorely tried from want of funds? It certainly wasn't an abundance of
supplies that accounted for the heightened enthusiasm within the mission. And it
wasn't because everything now seemed to be going Hudson's way either. While in
Xinjiang, Hudson had received the surprising and disturbing news that Emily
Blatchley had fallen seriously ill back in London.

Not only was he saddened to learn that the prospects of her recovery were very
slim, but he wondered what was to become of the children to whom she had been
serving as volunteer mother. And then there was the work of the home office,
more and more of which had fallen upon her in his absence. She not only operated
the mission house, she took over the editing and distribution of the occasional
paper, dealt with much correspondence herself, and conducted the regular prayer
meeting on behalf of the mission.

Hudson confided in a letter to a Christian friend before he left on his longest
journey yet of the Yanks saying, Never has our work entailed such real trial or
so much exercise of faith. The sickness of our beloved friend Miss Blatchley and
her strong desire to see me, the needs of our dear children, the state of funds,
the changes required in the work to admit of some going home, others coming out,
and a further expansion, and many other things not easily expressed in writing,
would be crushing burdens if we were to bear them. But the Lord bears us, and
them too, and makes our hearts so very glad in himself, not himself plus a blank
check, just himself, and that I have never known greater freedom from care and
anxiety.

The other week when I reached Shanghai we were in great and immediate need. The
males were both in, but no remittance, and the folios showed no balance at home.
I cast the burden on the Lord.

Next morning on waking I felt inclined to trouble, but the Lord gave me a word.
I know their sorrows, and them come down to deliver. Certainly I will be with
thee.

And before six a.m. I was assured that help was at hand when near noon I
received a letter from Mr. Mueller which had been to Ningpo, and thus delayed in
reaching me, and which continued more than three hundred pounds. My need now is
great and urgent, but God is greater and more near. And because he is what he
is, all must be, all is, all will be, well.

Oh, my dear brother, the joy of knowing the living God, of seeing the living
God, of resting on the living God, and in our very special and peculiar
circumstances. I am but his agent. He will have to look after his own honor,
provide for his own servants, and supply all our need according to his own
riches, you helping by your prayers and work of faith and labor of love.

In a note to his wife that spring, Hudson included a sobering report. The
balance in hand yesterday was eighty-seven cents, but to that he added, the Lord
reigns, herein is our joy and rest. And to Mr. Baller he added, when the balance
was still lower, we have this and all the promises of God.

Twenty-five cents, Baller recalled later, plus all the promises of God, why, one
felt as rich as Croesus. Hudson challenged everyone to trust in God's provision,
and he wrote numerous letters with the same warning that he gave to a council
member in the following letter. I am truly sorry that you should be distressed
at not having funds to send me.

May I not say, be careful for nothing. We should use all care to economize what
God does send us. But when that is done, bear no care about real or apparent
lack.

After living on God's faithfulness for many years, I can testify that times of
want have ever been times of special blessing, or have led to them. I do beg
that never any appeal for funds be put forward, save to God only in prayer. When
our work becomes a begging work, it will die.

God is faithful, must be so. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He
didn't want anyone connected with the mission to be tempted to help by making
financial appeals in meetings or to individuals.

So he had chosen the theme of the Xinjiang Conference that sprang from a hymn,
In some way or another, the Lord will provide. It was with this same theme in
mind that Hudson wrote a letter of support and encouragement to Emily Blatchley,
to let her know that he would be heading back to England as soon as possible. In
the letter he said, I am sure that if we but wait, the Lord will provide.

We go shortly, that is, Mr. Judd and myself, to see if we can procure
headquarters at Wuzhang, from which to open up western China as the Lord may
enable us. We are urged on to make this effort now, though so weak-handed, both
by the need of the unreached provinces and by our having funds in hand for work
in them, while we have none for general purposes. I cannot conceive how we shall
be helped through next month, though I fully expect that we shall be.

The Lord cannot and will not fail us. Things didn't look much better financially
by the time Hudson had returned from Wuchong after getting his friend, Mr. Judd,
established in a new station there. So the Taylors set out once again to England
to see about their friend, Emily Blatchley, and to do what they could for the
mission work at home.

But this homecoming turned out to be a sad one. Emily Blatchley, faithful friend
to the end, had died while they were en route. The Taylors found the house at
Pireland Road empty, the children scattered among various friends and relatives,
the homework of the mission at a standstill, even the weekly prayer meetings
discontinued.

Mission business seemed in as much disarray at home as it had been in China the
last time that they arrived there. To Hudson it must have seemed a new all-time
low point in the life of his mission, and yet things were about to sink even
lower. On his trip up the Ganges to reach Wuchong, Hudson had slipped on the
gangway of a small cargo boat and fallen hard, spraining an ankle and wrenching
his back.

Though he was disabled a few days at the time, he was eventually able to walk
and endure the resulting pain. But now, within a week or two of his return to
London, he began to feel a numbness in his limbs. His doctor diagnosed the
problem as a concussion of the spine and ordered absolute and complete bed rest.

Even then he offered only faint hope that Hudson would ever be able to stand or
walk again. Hudson had no choice but to lie in his upstairs room, conscious of
all there was to be done for the mission, all that could not be attended to. He
had been halfway around the world and back three times and seen more of China
than any European since Marco Polo, and was still clinging to the vision that
God wanted him to take the gospel to all the unreached provinces of that land.

Yet, here he lay, his personal realm suddenly limited to a narrow four-poster
bed. But on the wall at the foot of his bed, where he could see it always
between the posts, hung Hudson's big map of China. Years later, a church leader
from Scotland said to Hudson, You must sometimes be tempted to be proud because
of the wonderful way God has used you.

I doubt if any man living has had greater honor. On the contrary, Hudson
replied, I often think that God must have been looking for someone small enough
and weak enough for him to use. And then he found me.

For it was indeed in Hudson's weakness that God began to work in a mighty way.
The outlook did not brighten as the year drew to a close. Hudson's paralysis
progressed.

He was less and less able to move and could only turn in bed with the help of a
rope fixed above him. At first, he had managed to write a little, but now he
could not even hold a pen. It was then, with the dawn of 1875, that the
Christian press printed a little paper he had written titled, Appeal for Prayer
on Behalf of More Than 150 Million of Chinese.

Briefly, it stated the facts with regard to the nine unevangelized provinces and
the aims of the mission. Four thousand pounds, it said, had recently been given
for the special purpose of sending the gospel to these distant regions. Chinese
Christians were ready to take part in the work.

The urgent need was for more missionaries, young men willing to face any
hardship in leading the way. Will each of your Christian readers, the article
requested, at once rise and raise his heart to God, spending one minute in
earnest prayer that God will raise up this year eighteen suitable men to devote
themselves to this work? The article didn't say that the leader of the mission
was, to all appearances, a hopeless invalid. It did not refer to the fact that
the four thousand pounds had come from Hudson and his wife.

It was part of their capital from her recent inheritance. They were already
donating all the interest from the capital to the work of the mission anyway.
Neither did the article mention the covenant of two or three years previously
when Hudson and a few friends determined to pray daily in faith for the eighteen
evangelists until they should be given.

And yet, many who read the article were moved by its challenge. Before long,
Hudson's correspondence began to increase. So did his joy and confidence in
dealing with it, or rather seeing how the Lord dealt with it.

He wrote of this time, The mission had no paid helpers, but God led volunteers
without prearrangement to come in from day to day to write from dictation. If
one who called in the morning could not stay long enough to answer all letters,
another was sure to come, and perhaps one or two might look in in the afternoon.
Occasionally, a young friend employed in the city would come in after business
hours and do needful bookkeeping, or finish letters not already dealt with.

So it was, day by day. One of the happiest periods of my life was that period of
inactivity when one could do nothing but rejoice in the Lord and wait patiently
for Him, and see Him meeting all one's needs. Never were my letters, before or
since, kept so regularly and promptly answered.

And the eighteen asked of God began to come. There was some first
correspondence, then they came to see me in my room. Soon I had a class studying
Chinese at my bedside.

In due time, the Lord sent them all forth, and then dear friends at Mid-May, the
nearby Christian Conference Center, began to pray for my restoration. The Lord
blessed that means also, and I was risen up. One reason for my being laid aside
was gone.

Had I been well and able to move about, some might have thought that my urgent
appeals, rather than God's working, had sent the eighteen men to China. But
utterly laid aside, able only to dictate a request for prayer, the answer to our
prayers was the more apparent. One of those who came during this time was the
Reverend C. G. Moore, a candidate in eventually a number of the mission serving
in China.

He wrote this about his first meeting with Hudson Taylor at Peril and Road. His
study was the back room on the ground floor, and could be entered from the front
sitting room by large folding doors. Shall I say I was shocked, or surprised, or
both? At any rate, I had an absolutely novel experience.

The room was largely occupied with packing cases and some rough shelves set
along one of the walls. Near the window, which looked out on the dreary back
gardens, was a writing table littered with papers. In front of the fireplace,
where a fender is usually found for a low, narrow iron bedstead, neatly covered
with a rug, Mr. Taylor's chief resting place by night and by day.

I hardly think there was a scrap of carpet on the floor, and certainly not a
single piece of furniture that suggested the slightest regard for comfort or
appearance. Mr. Taylor offered no word of apology or explanation, but lay down
on his iron bedstead and eagerly plunged into a conversation, which was, for me,
one of life's golden moments. Every idea I had hitherto cherished of a great man
was completely shattered.

The high, imposing airs and all the trappings were conspicuously absent, but
Christ's ideal of greatness was then and there so securely set in my heart that
it has remained through all the years up to this moment. I strongly suspect that
by his unconscious influence, Mr. Hudson Taylor did more than any other man of
his day to compel Christian people to revise their ideas of greatness. I mention
these details because they show light upon some of the important principles upon
which Mr. Taylor based his life and service.

He profoundly realized that if the millions of China were to be evangelized,
they would have to be a vast increase in self-denial and self-sacrifice upon the
part of Christians at home. But how could he ask and urge others to do what he
was not practicing himself? So he deliberately stripped his life on all sides of
every appearance of self-consideration and self-indulgence. And it was just the
same in China.

But there an additional principle came into action. He would not ask those who
worked with him to face hardships he himself was not willing to endure. He never
used his position as director of the mission to purchase himself the least
advantage or ease.

He made it his, under all circumstances, to live in that spirit and practice of
self-sacrifice which he expected to find in his brethren on the field. However
hard his lot might be in China, every missionary knew that Mr. Taylor had
suffered in the same way and was ready to do so again. No man could suspect at
any time that while he himself was bearing the cross, his leader, under more
favorable circumstances, was shirking it.

Herein was one explanation of the remarkable and affectionate attachment to Mr.
Taylor on the part of so many in the mission. But just as the friends and
candidates of the mission were challenged by Hudson Taylor's example, they also
learned to trust the power of prayer. The monthly remittance to be cabled to
China on one occasion was very small, nearly 235 pounds less than the average
expenditures to be covered.

So when the household gathered for noon prayers, Hudson suggested, let us bring
the matter to the Lord in prayer. That very evening, the postman brought a
letter which was found to contain a check to be entered. From the sale of a
plate it said, do you know what the sum was? Just over 235 pounds.

Once after he was able to be up and about again, Hudson was returning from a
meeting when he happened to take a seat on a train beside a Russian nobleman who
had heard him speak at the meeting. As they traveled to London together, Count
Bobrinsky took out his pocketbook. Allow me to give you a trifle, he said,
toward your work in China.

But the banknote he handed to Mr. Taylor was a large sum. Hudson realized that
there must have been some mistake. Did you not mean to give me five pounds, he
asked? Please let me return this note.

It is for 50. I cannot take it back, replied the Count, who was just as
surprised as Hudson. Five pounds was what I meant to give.

But God must have intended you to have 50. I cannot take it back. Impressed with
what had just taken place, Hudson reached Pireland Road to find family and
friends gathered for special prayer.

A China remittance was to be sent out, and the money in hand was short by 49
pounds, 11 shillings. There on the table, Hudson laid his banknote for 50
pounds. But even after all the answers to prayer of those years, enormous
barriers still remained.

In fact, in the months immediately after the 18 pioneer missionaries sailed from
England for China, the two countries again came to the brink of war. A British
official traveling into far western China was murdered, and when the government
in London lodged a protest, the Chinese government ignored the demands. The
British ambassador, having exhausted all diplomatic channels, left Peking for
the coast to sail home.

War looked inevitable at the very time Hudson was preparing to follow the 18 new
missionaries to China, accompanied by yet another eight new workers. Many
friends of the mission tried to talk Hudson out of going. You will all have to
return, they said, and as to sending off pioneers to the more distant provinces,
it is simply out of the question.

But Hudson felt certain that there had been no mistake. The men and money were
finally available. Certainly the time had come to take the gospel where it had
never been before.

Was inland China going to remain closed? Hudson spent many long hours on his
knees in the third-class cabin of the French steamer that carried the tailors
and their eight new young colleagues toward China. Two years before he had
written, my soul yearns, oh, how intensely, for the evangelization of the 180
millions of these unoccupied provinces. Oh, that I had a hundred lives to give
or spend for their good.

In the meantime, he did everything in his power and more to keep that vision
alive. He and the mission had gone through so much, and now? At the last moment,
the Chinese government relented. The viceroy, Li Hongzhao, rushed to the coast,
overtaking the British minister at Caifu.

And it was there that the memorable convention was signed, which finally
promised complete access to every part of China. When Hudson reached Shanghai,
the good news awaited him. The agreement had been signed the week after he
sailed from England, and three parties of the Eighteen had already set out and
were well on their way into the interior.

Just as our brethren were ready, Hudson wrote, not too soon, not too late. The
long closed door opened to them of its own accord. 1876-1881 While the doors to
inland China were technically open for some years, they were only open a crack.

But the Caifu convention, in effect, flung wide the doors. The agreement not
only stated that foreigners were at liberty to travel anywhere in the emperor's
dominions, early agreements had promised that, but this time foreign travelers
went with the guarantee of the emperor's own protection, and were to be received
with respect, and in no way hindered in their journey. Imperial proclamations
declaring the policy were to be posted in every city, and for a period of two
years, British officials could be sent anywhere in China to make sure that all
these provisions were carried out.

The China Inland Mission representatives were the first, and in many parts of
China the only, foreigners to make use of this opportunity. And on more than one
occasion, alarmed local government officials would welcome the unexpected
missionaries to a new city with elaborate hospitality, while their minions
hurriedly tacked up the official documents they were supposed to have already
posted. Far and wide the pioneer missionaries traveled, crossing and recrossing
all the provinces of the interior, and penetrating even into Tibet.

Over 30,000 miles these men journeyed in the first 18 months. The way, however,
wasn't at all easy, for while the Chinese government approved their travel, many
leaders still resented the presence of Westerners, and the rigors of travel
mostly on foot or by wheelbarrow remained as difficult as ever. Hudson himself
was able to accomplish little of what he had planned in the first few months
back in China.

A fever he caught while sailing up the China Sea led to a serious illness that
confined him for some time in Xinjiang, where he could do little except pray and
help with mission correspondence. It is difficult to realize that I cannot run
about as I once did, he wrote to his wife Jenny. She had stayed in England to
care for the Taylor children, the older four, two little ones born to her, and
the adopted orphan daughter of George Duncan.

And in a later letter he added, The weakness that prevents overwork may be the
greatest blessing to me, but overwork could hardly be avoided. In addition to
his responsibility as director of the work in China and the editing of China's
Millions, a new illustrated magazine the mission published and sold back in
England, Hudson soon took over the office duties of the mission secretary whose
health forced him to go on furlough. Whenever work permitted, Hudson liked to
take a break to play the harmonium and sing hymns.

His favorite contained the words, Jesus, I am resting, resting in the joy of
what thou art. I am finding out the greatness of thy loving heart. One of the
eighteen missionary evangelists, Mr. George Nichols, was with Hudson on one
occasion when the mail arrived in the office with the disturbing news of serious
rioting around two of the older stations of the mission.

Thinking Hudson might wish to be alone, the younger man was about to withdraw
when, to his surprise, Hudson began to whistle that same refrain, Jesus, I am
resting, resting in the joy of what thou art. Turning in surprise, George
Nichols explained, How can you whistle when our friends are in so much danger?
Would you have me anxious and troubled? Hudson responded. That would not help
them and would certainly incapacitate me for work.

I have just to roll the burden on the Lord. Day and night that was exactly what
he did. Frequently anyone awake in the little mission house of Chin Yang might
hear at 2 a.m. or 3 a.m. the soft refrain of Hudson's favorite hymn, which
spelled out his strategy for handling all the pressures and problems that the
mission faced.

Hudson regained strength enough to travel. He knew he would need to stay longer
in China than the 40 weeks he had originally planned. Sometimes it does seem
hard, he wrote Jenny, to be away from you.

But when I think of the one who spent 33 years away from his heaven and finished
them on Calvary, I feel ashamed of my own selfishness. Though Hudson and Jenny
enjoyed a wonderful reunion when he returned after 16 months in China, their
time together was short, for Hudson brought with him the dreadful news of a
famine in North China, where 6 million Chinese faced starvation after several
straight years of lost crops. The two pioneer missionaries recently sent to that
region reported that children were dying by the thousands and young girls were
being sold into slavery and taken away in large numbers to be resold in southern
Chinese cities.

Hudson felt so burdened by the conditions in North China that he devoted most of
his energy to telling Christians throughout Britain about the needed relief
work. But when funds began coming in for the rescue of starving children, the
next problem became obvious. Where was the woman who could go to that province
to head up the relief work among the women and children? No European woman had
ever been beyond the mountains that separated Shanxi from the coast.

Just to get there meant a journey of two weeks by mule litter over dangerous
roads with miserable ends at night. Experienced, devoted with the knowledge of
the language, and having already earned the confidence of fellow missionaries,
both men and women, Jenny Taylor couldn't help thinking she was the person who
needed to go. But how could she? She and Hudson had just been separated for more
than a year.

He, as usual, had worn himself out in China and could use her help with mission
business at home. And who would care for the seven children? As she struggled
with the decision, Jenny prayed that God would give her a sign. I felt like
Gideon, she wrote, that my strength in China would be Have not I commanded thee?
And I wanted some fleeces to confirm my faith.

And as a token for those who would have me remain at home, I asked God to give
me in the first place money to purchase certain requisites for outfit, as we had
none to spare, and further to give me liberally as much as fifty pounds so that
there might be money in hand when I went away. The very next day, a friend
called to see her, saying, Will you accept a little gift for your own use or get
anything you need for the journey? And the gift was ten pounds, exactly the
allowance the mission made for outfitting a missionary for the trip to China. A
few days later, she received another unexpected check for exactly fifty pounds.

Her fleeces so precisely answered, she knew what she must do. And finally, the
solution to her great concern was also provided when Hudson's sister, Amelia
Broomhall, who lived next door to the Powerland Road headquarters, announced, If
Jenny is called to go to China, I am called to care for her children. So for
another year, Hudson and Jenny were separated.

While she ministered to the needs of starving women and children in North China,
he oversaw the training of yet another thirty new missionaries and began to see
a new complication resulting from the expansion of the mission. The pioneer
missionaries naturally sought headquarters where they could establish their own
homes. And just as naturally, many decided to get married.

That meant sending women into the vast interior of China, something no other
mission had ever done. And immediately prompted a new wave of criticism about
the China Inland Mission's policies. Married couples would soon have children,
and single women would have need to be sent to help take care of some of the
busy mothers' duties of evangelism and teaching among the Chinese women.

And if he thought the criticism for sending married women out into pioneer
missionary work was severe, it was nothing compared to the outcry over allowing
single women to be exposed to the dangers and hardships of life in inland China.
But Hudson, having seen the great effectiveness of Maria during his early days
in China, and now having sent Jenny on her unprecedented assignment into Chanxi,
had great confidence in the courage, strength, and resourcefulness of women
missionaries. So by the time he and Jenny were reunited in Shanghai in 1879 for
an extended tour of the mission centers around China, the decision to open up
women's work was already made.

And it soon turned out to be one of the most significant decisions Hudson ever
made. Stranded for a time in the Yangtze Gorges, the first women who went to the
far west spent a strange Christmas amid their belongings spread out to dry upon
the rocks. And what crowds overwhelmed them when they reached their
destinations.

For nearly two months, Mrs. Nichols wrote from Chongqing, I have seen some
hundreds of women daily. Our house has been like a fair. More than once she
fainted from exhaustion in the midst of crowds of guests who came to sit and
listen to the gospel story told by the only white woman in a province of some 60
million people.

And when she returned to consciousness, she would find the woman fanning her,
full of affection and concern. One lady who cared for her like a mother would
send round her own sedan chair with an urgent request for Mrs. Nichols to return
in it immediately. The most comfortable bed in her apartment was waiting and
after sending out all of the younger women, she would sit down herself to fan
the weary visitor till she fell asleep.

Then an inviting dinner was prepared and on no account was Mrs. Nichols allowed
to leave until she ate a healthy meal. Everywhere those first women went, they
were surprised at how glad the people were to see them. How eager they were to
hear the message.

And not just out of curiosity, but with genuine interest in the Bible and in
this man, Jesus. So that by the end of the second year after missionary women
came on the scene, the pioneers were rejoicing in 60 or 70 converts gathered
into little churches in the far inland provinces. But no one knew the cost and
the danger of such work any better than Hudson Taylor.

Having lost his beloved Maria to the demands and disease of China, he prayed
every day for the health and safety of every woman in the mission. But as he
wrote his mother, I cannot tell you how glad my heart is to see the work
extending and consolidating in the remotest parts of China. It is worth living
for and yes, worth dying for.

Indeed, he almost did die. It was a great blessing that Jenny was with him in
China because his life was threatened by illness three times during 1879. Her
supportive, inspiring attitude can be seen in a letter written at that time
which she said, Don't you think that if we set ourselves not to allow any
pressure to rob us of communion with the Lord, we may live lives of hourly
triumph, the echo for which will come back to us from every part of the mission?
I have been feeling that these last months that all of our work, the most
important is that unseen upon the Mount of Intercession, our faith must gain the
victory for the fellow workers God has given us.

They fight the seen and we must fight the unseen battle. And dare we claim less
than constant victory when it is for Him and we come in His name? Though Hudson
did pull through and began to regain his strength, his trial regarding finances
continued. Funds seemed to be dropping lower and lower.

We need much prayer, but God cannot fail us. Let us trust and not be afraid, he
wrote to a fellow missionary. And when another friend noted how much of his
convalescence seemed to be sent in prayer, Hudson asked, What would you do if
you had a large family and nothing to give them to eat? That is almost my
situation at present.

When word reached China that both of their mothers had died within a few weeks
of each other, Hudson and Jenny decided she was needed at home. He would follow
as soon as possible. His wife had only been gone 10 days when he wrote, I am
sure you have been longing for me as I have for you.

At the right time, by the right way, the Lord will bring us together again. Let
us seek to live all the more with Him to find Him a satisfying portion. And a
month later as he journeyed up the Ganks, he wrote, You are plowing the
Mediterranean and will soon see Naples.

I am waiting for a steamer to Huacheng. I cannot, need not, tell you how much I
miss you. But God is making me feel how rich we are in His presence and love.

He is helping me to rejoice in our adverse circumstances, in our poverty, in the
retirements from our mission. All these difficulties are only platforms for the
manifestations of His grace, His power, and His love. I am very busy, he
continued from Huacheng when his meetings there had begun.

God is giving us a happy time of fellowship together and is confirming us in the
principles on which we are acting. Now that last statement was a crucial
declaration of confidence for the time. Hudson, alone, and along with all the
other missionaries who gathered at Huacheng had recommitted themselves to
continue the current course of the mission.

And the mission was fast approaching another point of crisis. After years of
prayer, patience, and persevering effort, a position of unparalleled opportunity
had been reached. Inland China lay open before them.

But reinforcements were needed at all the settlement stations in the far north,
the south, and the west. Not to advance would be to retreat from the position of
faith taken up at the beginning. Not advancing would mean surrendering to
difficulties rather than trusting the living God.

True, funds were low and had been for years. It was also true that the new
workers coming out to China were few. So it would have been easy to say, for the
present, no further extension is possible.

But not to move forward would mean throwing away the new opportunities God had
given. And the feeling among the missionaries was that pulling back could not be
God's way for the evangelization of inland China. So the members of the China
Inland Mission instead took a bold and startling step of faith.

They agreed and then sent home word of their agreement to pray for 70 new
workers to come to China. Now at a time when the entire membership of the
mission totaled only a little more than a hundred workers, when funds for their
own support were greatly strained, the missionaries agreed to pray for 70 more.
Since it didn't seem practical to receive and arrange for so many new
missionaries in a shorter time, they set a three-year time frame on the
expansion.

As the conference came to agreement on the matter, someone exclaimed, if only we
could meet again and have a united praise meeting when the last of the 70 had
reached China. We shall be widely scattered then, said another missionary. But
why not have the praise meeting now? Why not give thanks for the 70 before we
separate? So they held another prayer service, this time to give thanks in
advance for God's answer to their request.

But despite this great display of faith, there were many people back in England,
friends and critics alike, who doubted that it would ever happen. 1882 to 1888.
In faith, Hudson and his fellow missionaries waited for encouraging word and
added support from home.

But instead of having their faith rewarded with new and greater resources for
advancing into the territory, the existing work of the mission suffered a
greater shortage of funds than ever. In October 1882 he wrote, We were at table
when we received our letters, the whole mail, and when on opening one of them I
found instead of seven or eight hundred pounds for the month's supplies, only
just over ninety-six pounds. My feelings I shall not soon forget.

I closed the envelope again and seeking my room knelt down and spread the letter
before the Lord. Asking him what was to be done with less than ninety-seven
pounds, a sum it was impossible to distribute over seventy stations in which
were eighty or ninety missionaries, including their wives, not to speak of a
hundred native helpers and more than the number of native children to be fed and
clothed in all of the schools. Having first rolled the burden on the Lord, I
then mentioned the matter to others of our own mission in Kaifu, and we unitedly
looked to him to come to our aid, but no hint as to our circumstances was
allowed to reach anyone outside.

Soon the answers began to come, kind gifts from local friends who little knew
the peculiar value of their donations, and help in other ways, until the needs
of the month were all met without our having been burdened with anxious thoughts
even for an hour. We had similar experiences in November and December. Thus the
Lord made our hearts sing for joy and provided through local contributions in
China for the needs of the work as never before or since.

Experiencing this provision for their current needs, the missionaries felt all
the more reassured that God would answer their prayers for the seventy new
workers. But, realizing the growing doubts back in England, Hudson and his
friends gathered for a prayer meeting on the second of February to ask God for
some sign that would serve as his stamp of approval and encourage the doubters
back home. As Hudson explained, we knew that our father loves to please his
children, and we asked him lovingly to please us as well as to encourage timid
ones at home by leading someone of his wealthy stewards to make room for large
blessing for himself and his family by giving liberally to this special object.

It was just a few days later when Hudson sailed for England, so he didn't hear
the results of that prayer until his ship stopped at Aden. Though no word of
that special prayer meeting had reached home, the home staff at Peril and Road
had been thrilled to receive on the second of February an anonymous gift of
three thousand pounds. Enclosed with the gift was a verse, Ask of me, and I
shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance and the uttermost parts of the
earth for my possession.

And that was an all. The gift was sent in an unusual way. It was signed from
Father, Mother, and Five Children.

It was striking, wrote Hudson, to see how literally God had answered our prayer
and led his faithful steward to make room for a large blessing for himself and
his family. And by the time Hudson reached London that spring, he recognized a
growing respect for and interest in the work of the China Inland Mission. Word
of their pioneering work had begun to spread.

Alexander Wiley of the London Missionary Society had written, They are opening
up the country, and this is what we want. Other missions are doing a good work,
but they are not doing this kind of work. John McCarthy had just returned on
furlough after walking clear across China from east to west, preaching in cities
all along the way.

Henry Salteau and J.W. Stevenson, the first Europeans to enter western China
from Burma, had also arrived to share their experiences. So when Hudson arrived
and began making known the appeal for the Seventy, the Christian community took
a new interest in China. Hudson's brother-in-law, Benjamin Brumall, had taken
over the responsibility of General Secretary of the Home Council and had made
many new friends for the mission.

So Hudson was invited all over the country to talk about the work. And
everywhere he went, people were moved as they heard the story of the mission and
the ongoing needs of China. One of the mission's new friends, a minister from
Gloucester, said of Hudson's extensive speaking to her, You could be quite sure
that whatever else he might say, he would make no plea for funds.

Often I used to hear him explain, almost apologetically, that his great desire
was that no funds should be diverted from other societies to the China Inland
Mission, and that it was for this reason he had taken up lines of working which
he hoped would preclude interference with other organizations. Nothing gave him
more genuine pleasure than to speak well of other missions. Oh, the self-emptied
spirit, the dignified way in which his life of faith was lived out, the reality
of it all.

Instead of wanting to get anything out of it, he was always ready to give to
you. His heart and mind were full of that. Some people seem to be asking all the
time, though they may not do so in actual words, he never.

At one conference where he spoke about the needs of China and didn't even
mention his own mission's name, even though no collection was taken, the people
emptied their purses and stripped off their jewelry to donate it to the cause,
and according to one contemporary account, fifteen or sixteen offers for the
mission field were the result, and a whole jewelry case was sent in the next
day. People had received so much that they felt they could give anything. Even
those who had only heard about Hudson Taylor responded.

One child from Cambridge to whom Hudson Taylor was a household name wrote
saying, If you are not dead yet, I want to send you the money I have saved up to
help the little boys and girls of China to love Jesus. Cannon Wilberforce of
Southampton also wrote at this time urging, Will you do me the kindness to give
a Bible reading in my house to about sixty people and spend the night with us?
Please do us this favor in the Master's name. And Lord Bradstock wrote from the
continent saying, Much love to you and the Lord.

You are a great help to us in England by strengthening our faith. And from Dr.
Andrew Bonar came one hundred pounds forwarded from an unknown Presbyterian
friend who cares for the land of Sinai. Spurgeon invited him to speak at the
Tabernacle and Miss McPherson invited him to Bethnal Green.

My heart is still in the glorious work, wrote Mr. Burger with a check of five
hundred pounds. Most heartily do I join you in praying for seventy more
laborers. But I do not stop at seventy.

Surely we shall see greater things than these if we are empty of self, seeking
only God's glory and the salvation of souls. So full was Hudson's time with
meetings that it seemed he hardly had time for his directorial duties. And yet
one volume, used to note mission correspondence when received, when answered,
and a line about the contents, shows that Hudson personally attended to
twenty-six hundred letters in the course of only ten months' time.

There always seemed to be so much work to do, and yet that work was being
rewarded. Representatives of the China Inland Mission speaking at Oxford and
Cambridge played a major role in the beginning of a student revival which flamed
bright and blazed across Britain and eventually to North America. Even at its
beginning, it inspired so many to consider missionary services that the China
Inland Mission was soon flooded with inquiries and enough support that Hudson
was able to sail for China to help prepare for the imminent arrival of the last
of the seventy, even before the full three-year period was up.

Though heartened to know that the mission and its work had grown popular at
home, Hudson knew that the expansion in China would mean even greater
challenges. Soon we shall be in the midst of the battle, he wrote from the China
Sea, but the Lord our God in the midst of us is mighty, so we will trust and not
be afraid. He will save.

He will save all the time and in everything. And again some months later, he
wrote to Jenny, flesh and heart often fail. Let them fail.

He faileth not. Pray very much. Pray constantly, for Satan rages against us.

There is much to distress. Your absence is a great and ever-present trial, and
there is all the ordinary and extraordinary conflict. But the encouragements are
also wonderful.

No other word approaches the truth, and a half of them cannot be told in
writing. No one dreams of the mighty work going on in connection with our
mission. Other missions, too, doubtless are being greatly used.

I look for a wonderful year. When he sailed for China, he planned to be back in
England by the end of the year. But the unfinished work kept him into and
through 1886, the most fruitful year the mission had yet experienced.

Hudson spent months on an extensive inland tour, visiting new stations,
instructing his missionaries, holding conferences, meeting with Chinese
Christians, and even engaging in new evangelistic ventures. Old colleagues in
distant stations, some he hadn't seen for years, shared old memories and
rejoiced with Hudson at the exciting new growth of the mission. Younger
missionaries found inspiration in the presence and the faithful example of the
mission's leader.

And in discussions with Hudson, they all dreamed and planned about the future of
the work. We all saw visions at that time, recalled one missionary who traveled
with Hudson. Those were days of heaven upon earth.

Nothing seemed difficult. Hudson amazed his younger colleagues with his
endurance as they traveled by foot and packed mule over rugged terrain in the
remotest regions of China. Often the ends where they stayed were so crude that
the travelers shared sleeping quarters with their mules who would be so hungry
that they would eat the straw from the missionaries' pallets as they tried to
sleep.

Many times, there were no ends to be found at all. And in the hottest weather,
the missionaries were sometimes forced to travel at night. One young missionary,
a noted athlete, back in England, wrote about the rigors of Chinese travel.

Night traveling was one of the hardest experiences I've ever had because I could
not sleep by day. Occasionally, when I did drop off, I would wait to find that
Mr. Taylor had been looking after me, rigging up mosquito netting to keep the
flies away. Walking at night, I had been so sleepy that even the motion could
not keep me awake.

And having fallen right down while plodding on, the tumble was all that roused
one for the time being. The inns being closed at night, we often used to lie
down by the roadside where the animals had to be fed. Our own fare consisted
chiefly of rice and millet.

Occasionally, we were able to purchase a chicken, eggs, cucumbers, or a little
fruit. But we did not stop at regular stages. And as it was the rainy season,
nothing was brought out for sale in the places through which we passed.

With so much rain, we often got soaked completely through. The way we managed
was to take off our garments one by one and dry them in front of the fire. On
one occasion, this so offended the kitchen god that Mr. Taylor had to come and
make peace.

Of course, we carried no bedding, though Mr. Taylor always had two pillows, one
for the head and one for the thigh. And we each carried a plaid. The medicine
chest sometimes came in useful as an extra pillow.

I remember coming to one river where there were a few houses and people who made
a harvest by carrying travelers over. They met us saying that the river was
impassable. Nevertheless, for a thousand cash apiece, they would take us across.

This was outrageous. So I went into the water which was rising by inches, the
rain being a perfect deluge. And when the men saw we were not to be deterred,
they came and gave some help, glad to be paid a fair price for their work.

After we were over, the water rose by feet. Had we been half an hour later, no
crossing would have been possible. The river was by that time a wild, raging
torrent.

On the farther side, there was a small village, but no inn. To go on was
impossible. Stay we must, though the only shelter we could find was apparently a
pig's die.

So we turned the occupant out, borrowed a few forms, took the doors off their
hinges to lie on, and rolling ourselves in our plaids, prepared to pass the
night as comfortably as circumstances would permit. We were only masters of the
situation for a short time, however, for the pig came back, charged the
makeshift door, which at once fell in, and settled down to share the apartment
with us. After reflection, I concluded that it was too cold to turn out on the
chance of ignominious defeat at the hands of the enemy.

Next day was still cold, high mountains instead of the scion plain, drenching
rain instead of burning sun. The road was washed away in places, but still Mr.
Taylor would push on. Where the riverside was impassable, we had to clamber up
steep banks as best that we could, and follow crumbling tracks on the mountains.

Nothing would stop him, though he often begged me to remain behind. We had
several narrow escapes from landslides, the path giving way behind us and
rolling stones and earth into the stream. We had no fear of robbers and the
wolves, though we saw them.

They did not attack us. We went forty-eight to fifty miles one day, and the last
three stages we made in two, not to miss the mail boat at Han Jong. Hearing
Hudson sing on one occasion when the entire party was exhausted and extremely
hungry, one of those with him noticed the words, We thank thee, Lord, for this
our food, and couldn't help but ask where the food was.

Why, it can't be far away, Hudson smiled. Our father knows that we are hungry
and will send our breakfast soon, but you'll have to wait and say your grace
when it comes, while I shall be ready to begin eating at once. And sure enough,
just ahead they met a man with ready-cooked rice to sell, which made an
excellent meal.

Well, whatever else he had to leave behind on his journey, he always carried a
box of matches, candles, and his four-volume Bible. He would invariably get his
quiet time an hour before dawn, one of his companions wrote, and then possibly
sleep again. When I woke to feed the animals, I always found him reading the
Bible by the light of his candle.

No matter what the surroundings or the noise in those dirty inns, he never
neglected this. He used to pray on such journeys, lying down, for he usually
spent long times in prayer, and to kneel would have been too exhausting. The
last segment of Hudson's great inland journey looked to be the easiest, a
thousand-mile boat ride down the Han River from the northern provinces to the
coast.

But on this last stage of the trip, Hudson volunteered to take charge of Annie
Pierce, the little five-year-old daughter of Han Chung missionaries who feared
for the sickly girl's life. Her only hope seemed to be the changed climate at
the coast. Annie's parents, knowing that there were no women in Hudson's party,
worried about burdening him with their daughter's care for the four- to six-week
journey.

But Hudson insisted and personally saw, too, the child's clothes and meals on
the trip, caring for her and watching over her day and night. My little charge
is wonderfully improving, he was able to write Jenny from the boat. She clings
to me very lovingly, and it is sweet to feel little arms about one's neck once
more.

No sooner did Hudson conclude his extensive tour of China than he convened the
first meeting of the newly formed China Council of the Mission. As 1886 drew to
a close, the recently appointed superintendents of the provinces gathered at
Anqing, where Hudson planned to share the results of his trip, discuss the most
pressing needs of the mission, and then challenge the leaders of the mission in
China to begin thinking about larger future developments. But even Hudson was
surprised when after an entire week given to prayer and fasting, those attending
the conference agreed that to make any significant advances at all, a hundred
new workers were needed right away.

A hundred! But as they carefully detailed the needs, Hudson had to agree that
with fifty central stations already established, even a hundred new workers
would be all too few for the new expansion they planned. So with Hudson's
permission, the group cabled a message to London, Pray for a hundred new workers
in 1887. What a stir that cable created in England.

No mission in history had ever dreamed of sending out such an army of missionary
reinforcements. The China Inland Mission only had a hundred and ninety members
then. People could hardly believe that they would pray for an increase of more
than fifty percent in one year, until Hudson arrived home to tell of the
three-part prayer being prayed by the missionaries in China.

Before he left, the mission leaders in China agreed to pray not just that God
would bring them one hundred new missionaries, but also that, unsolicited, an
extra fifty thousand dollars would be received above and beyond the present
income so that all the new missionaries' needs would be met. And third, that the
extra money would come in large sums so that the small office staff at the home
office wouldn't be burdened with extra correspondence and record keeping. And
what happened in 1887? Six hundred men and women actually volunteered for
services with the China Inland Mission during that year.

One hundred two were chosen, equipped, and sent out. Not just fifty thousand
dollars, but fifty five thousand dollars in extra income was received without
solicitation so that every need was met. Perhaps more amazingly, just eleven
gifts covered it all, scarcely adding to the work of the staff.

Even so, the answers to prayer placed greater demands on Hudson. He spoke two,
three, sometimes four times a day. He seemed to be constantly interviewing
interested candidates and still managing a prodigious correspondence load
averaging thirteen or fourteen letters a day, every day for twelve months.

But the story of the hundred was told by Christians far and wide, creating an
even greater interest in China and the work of the mission. As a result, Hudson
was invited by Dwight L. Moody to stop in America on his way back to China in
1888. Hudson wrote, I had not the remotest idea in coming to America that
anything specially bearing upon the work of the China Inland Mission would grow
out of it.

I was glad to come when my way was providentially opened. I wanted to see Mr.
Moody and had heard of over two thousand students wishful to consecrate their
lives to God's service abroad. The American societies I thought are not quite in
a position to take up these two thousand and perhaps if we tell them about God's
faithfulness they will find it written in their Bibles not to be sent but go.

I believed in verbal inspiration and that God would have said be sent if that's
what he had wished. Instead he wrote go. I hoped I might be able to encourage
some to go.

After Hudson spoke to a large student conference Dr. Moody had organized the
inspired students took it upon themselves to raise money to be given a support
for missionaries in China. The total amount of their giving was enough to pay
the yearly expenses of eight missionaries. But far from being joyous over this
development Hudson felt a new burden as he explained to have missionaries and no
money would be no trouble for me for the Lord is bound to take care of his own.

He does not want me to assume his responsibility but to have money and no
missionaries is very serious indeed and I do not think it would be kind of you
dear friends in America to put this burden upon us and not to send some from
among yourselves to use the money. We have the dollars where are the people?
Hudson was anxious to get to China and as he said if he had missionaries without
money he would be ready to leave immediately trusting that the money would come.
He had done just that on numerous occasions but he couldn't just take the money
and leave without the missionaries it was to support.

Moody encouraged Hudson to make a direct appeal for workers so he did and when
the first three were accepted he began to feel glad about having the money in
hand but another complication developed. Every time he accepted another
candidate that person's friends family and church pledged to underwrite his
support so that when the first eight were chosen the original fund remained
untouched. It seemed to Hudson that consecrated money was something like
consecrated loaves and fishes.

There appeared to be no using it up. So it was though he had no previous
intention to do so that Hudson immediately established an American branch of the
China Inland Mission and with only three months of his arrival sailed from the
United States with fourteen young North American missionaries to China. From
that time on the China Inland Mission which had always been interdenominational
was an international mission as well.

In the following years the China Inland Mission mushroomed into a truly
worldwide ministry. Thirty-five Scandinavian missionaries ready for service
arrived unannounced in Shanghai not long after Hudson had toured Norway and
Sweden to speak about the spiritual needs of China. Germany sent contingents of
workers from their mission and Australia and New Zealand also joined in the
work.

Before long the China Council in Shanghai became the center of a greater
organization than its founder had ever imagined. But even though the spiritual
overflow of his life's work now reached to the ends of the earth even though his
sense of responsibility and his workload grew in proportion Hudson Taylor's
faith held him up and kept him steady. Those around him noted his strength and
an Episcopalian minister who hosted him on a stay in Australia observed, he was
an object lesson in quietness.

He drew from the bank of heaven every farthing of his daily income. My peace I
give unto you. Whatever did not agitate the Sager or ruffle his spirit was not
to agitate him.

The serenity of the Lord Jesus concerning any matter and at its most crucial
moment was his ideal and practical possession. He knew nothing of rush or hurry,
of quivering nerves or vexation of spirit. He knew that there is a peace passing
all understanding and that all he could not do without it.

I am in the study. You are in the big spare room, I said to Mr. Taylor at
length. You are occupied with millions, I with tens.

Your letters are pressingly important, mine are comparatively little moments,
yet I am worried and distressed while you are always calm. Do tell me what makes
the difference. My dear McCartney, he replied, the peace you speak of is, in my
case, more than a delightful privilege.

It is a necessity. I could not possibly get through the work I have to do
without the peace of God which passeth all understanding, keeping my mind and
heart. That was my chief experience of Mr. Taylor.

Are you in a hurry, flurried, distressed? Look up, see the man in the glory, see
the face of Jesus shining upon you, the wonderful face of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Is he worried or distressed? There is no care on his brow, no least shade of
anxiety, yet the affairs are his as much as yours. Keswick teaching, as it is
called, was not new to me.

I had received those glorious truths and was preaching them to others, but there
was the real thing, an embodiment of Keswick teaching such as I had never hoped
to see. It impressed me profoundly. Here was a man, almost sixty years of age,
bearing tremendous burdens, yet absolutely calm and untroubled.

Oh, the pile of letters, any one of which might contain news of death, the lack
of funds, of riots, or serious trouble, yet all were opened, read, and answered
with the same tranquility. Christ, his reason for peace, his power for calm.
Dwelling in Christ, he drew upon his very being and resources in the midst of
and concerning the matters in question, and this he did by an attitude of faith
as simple as it was continuous.

Yet he was delightfully free and natural. I can find no words to describe it
save the scriptural lesson or expression in God. He was in God all the time, and
God in him.

It was the true abiding of John 15. But oh, the lover-like attitude that
underlay it! He had in relation to Christ a most bountiful experience of the
song of Solomon. It was a wonderful combination.

The strength and tenderness of one who amid stern preoccupation, like that of a
judge on the bench, carried in his heart the light and love of home. And through
it all the vision and spiritual urgency of his earlier years remained undimmed.
In fact, his sense of responsibility to obey the last command of the Lord Jesus
Christ only increased as he came to see more clearly the meaning of the great
commission.

He wrote in 1889, I confess with shame that the question, What did our Lord
really mean by his command, to preach the gospel to every creature, has never
been raised by me. I had labored for many years to carry the gospel further
afield as having many others, had laid plans for reaching every unevangelized
province and many smaller districts in China, without realizing the plain
meaning of our Savior's words to every creature. There were only 40,000
Protestant Christians in all of China.

Double that. Triple the number. And suppose each one could take the message of
the gospel to just eight of his friends and neighbors.

That would only be a million. The inadequacy of all his previous efforts
convicted Hudson as he wrote, How are we to treat the Lord Jesus Christ with
regard to this last command? Shall we definitively drop the title Lord as
applied to him? Shall we take the ground that we are quite willing to recognize
him as Savior as far as the penalty of sin is concerned, but are not prepared to
own ourselves bought with a price, or Christ as having claim to our
unquestioning obedience? How few of the Lord's people have practically
recognized the truth that Christ is either Lord of all, or he is the Lord of
all. If he is not Lord at all, if we can judge God's word instead of being
judged by it, if we can give God as much or little as we like, then we are
lords, and he the indebted one to be grateful for our dole, and obliged by our
compliance with his wishes.

If, on the other hand, he is Lord, let us treat him as such. Why call ye me
Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say? So it was that at sixty years of
age Hudson Taylor, missionary to all of England, and inland China, broadened his
mission's vision even farther. Nothing less would do but to begin a systematic
effort to obey Jesus' command, and share the story of his love and sacrifice
with every man, woman, and child in all of China.

Jenny returned to China with Hudson in 1891, amazed at how much the mission had
grown and was still growing. As remarkable as it had seemed in 1887, when a
hundred missionaries went to China in one year, in 1890 and 91, the China Inland
Mission welcomed a hundred and thirty-one new missionaries in Shanghai in less
than six months' time, sixty-six of them arriving in one three-week period. The
history of Christian missions had seen nothing like it.

And the advances in China weren't limited to the work of the China Inland
Mission. Between 1890 and 1895, eleven hundred and fifty-three new missionaries
went to China through various mission agencies, and the work continued to grow.
By 1900, there were seven hundred and fifty China Inland Mission members.

Four million dollars had been raised without anyone but God being asked to give.
And there was no debt. Over seven hundred Chinese workers were connected with
the mission, and thirteen thousand Chinese believers had been baptized.

Prospects for the brand-new century looked even more exciting, with the first
steps begun in a deliberately strategy designed to reach every person in China
with the gospel. But then, the Boxer Rebellion of 1900 broke out, and its
madness swept the country. With the official blessing of the Dowager Empress,
the fanatical boxers rose up from one end of China to the other in religious and
patriotic fervor to drive out the devil foreigners.

Hudson, his health broken during his tenth term of active missionary work in
China, 1898 and 1899, had, at Jenny's insistence, agreed to travel to
Switzerland to rest and try to recover. They no sooner arrived there when the
terrible word reached them. Telegram after telegram came telling of riots,
massacres, and of hunting down of refugees in station after station of the China
Inland Mission.

Each new word brought greater and greater sorrow until Hudson weakened
emotionally and physically to the point that he thought he could bear no more. I
cannot read, he said at that point. I cannot pray.

I cannot scarcely even think. But I can trust. Before the rebellion ended and
order was restored in China, thousands had died, including 58 China Inland
Missionary members along with 21 of their children, and countless Chinese
converts of the mission.

Yet when the violence did end, the China Inland Mission returned to its centers,
many of which had been destroyed, and resumed the work without so much as a
single demand of the Chinese government for compensation. That attitude of
courage and forgiveness made such an impression that helped set the stage for a
new era of effective evangelism in China. The words of a white-haired Chinese
pastor in Chuanxi came true.

Kingdoms may perish, he said just before he was killed at the Boxer Rebellion,
but the Church of Christ can never be destroyed. Hudson stepped down from the
directorship of the mission in 1900, and his health prevented his return to
China for some time. By the time he regained enough strength for another
round-the-world journey, Jenny was herself dying of cancer.

So he stayed and cared for her until she died in July of 1904. During her last
night, though she had obvious difficulty breathing, she kept assuring Hudson
that she felt no pain, no pain. But toward morning, seeing the anguish on his
face, she finally whispered, Ask him to take me quickly.

Never had Hudson prayed such a difficult prayer, but for his wife's sake he
asked God to free her spirit. Within the next five minutes Jenny's breathing
grew quieter, and then all was at peace. Hudson's sense of desolation was
unspeakable.

On the wall of the tailor's sitting room hung a scripture text, the last
purchase the couple had made together. Many times in the days following Jenny's
death Hudson looked upon this through tears to those words in blue on their
white background. It said, Faithful is he who made the promises.

He told a friend, All we have to do is look up with patience to see how he will
prove it true. Early the following year Hudson sailed with his son and
daughter-in-law to China. At 73 years of age he made a long remarkable tour of
the country that took him to many spots and even into the province of Hunan
where he had never journeyed before.

And oh how the people responded, both missionaries and the Chinese everywhere he
went. He was called Venerable Father and Benefactor of China by many who came to
greet him. Crowds gathered to hear him whenever he spoke and sometimes just to
see him pass.

The trip into Hunan had to be especially gratifying. It was the last of the
provinces to get a permanent China Inland Mission station, and it hadn't been
fully accessible until after the Boxer Rebellion. Hudson was anxious to see that
part of the country, and as his party crossed the wide expanse of Tongting Lake
and steamed up river toward the capital of Qingsha he couldn't help but have
thought about all the toil and prayer that had gone into opening up the last
province of China to the gospel.

Less than ten years before not one missionary had settled there. Now there were
no fewer than 111 from 13 different mission agencies with work in 17 different
cities and a strong band of Chinese Christians working along with them. The
advances were indeed remarkable.

A work of God was the only way people could think to describe the impact of
Hudson Taylor's life and of the China Inland Mission, but Hudson's response was
summed up in his words, We cannot do much, but we can do a little, and God can
do a great deal. On Saturday, June 30th, 1905, the missionaries in Hunan's
capital city welcomed Hudson with a reception. That evening his daughter-in-law
went into his room to check on him.

Dear Father was in bed, the lamp burning on the chair beside him, and he was
leaning over it with his pocketbook lying open, and the home letters it
contained spread out as he loved to have them. I drew the pillow up more
comfortably under his head and sat down on the low chair close beside him, and
he said nothing. I began talking a little about the pictures in the missionary
review lying open on the bed.

I was just in the middle of a sentence when Dear Father turned his head quickly
and gave a little gasp. I looked up, thinking he was going to sneeze, but
another came, then another. He was not choking or distressed for breath.

He did not look at me or seem conscious of anything. I ran to the door and
called Howard, his son, but before he could reach the bedside it was evident
that the end had come. I ran back to call Dr. Keller, who was just at the foot
of the stairs.

In less time than it takes to write it, he was with us, but only to see Dear
Father draw his last breath. It was not death, but the glad, swift entry upon
life immortal. And, oh, the look of rest and calm that came over the dear face
was wonderful.

The weight of years seemed to pass away in a few moments. The weary line He
looked like a child quietly sleeping, and the very room seemed full of
unutterable peace. Hudson Taylor's body was taken in a casket generously
purchased by poor Chinese Christians from the province of Hunan to the family
plot in a little cemetery at Xinjiang.

There his body was buried beside those of his wife and children on the banks of
the mighty Yangtze River, in the heart of the land he loved and lived and died
for. And what was to become of the China Inland Mission? Hudson Taylor had been
a man of such unusual faith. God had always blessed the mission while he lived
and prayed for it.

But what now? Hudson Taylor's legacy lived on and continued to grow through the
ministry of the China Inland Mission. By the time the Japanese invaded China
during the 1930s and the first stages of the Second World War, the mission's
membership had swelled to twelve hundred and eighty-five. The total income since
1900 had reached twenty million dollars unsolicited.

There were between three and four million Chinese workers with the mission, and
the baptisms in the first three decades of the 1900s had totaled more than one
hundred thousand. The China Inland Mission, like all Christian organizations,
was expelled from China when Mao Tse-Tung and his Communists took over the
country after World War II. But the mission continues today under the name of
Overseas Missionary Fellowship with its headquarters in Singapore, and over one
thousand missionaries serving in nine countries throughout Southeast Asia.

And the China Inland Mission's impact, like that of Hudson Taylor himself, lives
on today in Communist China. Despite the reprehensive decades of Communist
persecution, the Chinese Church, just as during the Boxer Rebellion, could not
be destroyed, so that when Western Christians regained a measure of access to
inland China again in the seventies and eighties, the worldwide Christian Church
learned that there were by then millions of Chinese Christians and thousands of
House Churches throughout China, and many, if not most, of those millions of
Chinese Christians must trace their Christian heritage back to the work of the
China Inland Mission and its spiritual father, Hudson Taylor. What was the
secret of this spiritual's giant strength that enabled his life to make such an
impact? Part of this secret was expressed in the words to one of his favorite
verses.

He told me of a river bright that flows from him to me, that I might be the
delight, a fair and fruitful tree. It is very simple, he wrote, but has he not
planted us by the river of living water, that we may be, for his delight, fair
and fruitful to his people? God came first to Hudson Taylor's life, not the
work, not the needs of China or of the mission, not his own experiences. He knew
that the promise was true.

Delight thyself also in the Lord, and he shall give thee the desires of thine
heart. From a practical standpoint, he knew the truth of Oswald Chambers'
statement, God does not give us overcoming life, he gives us life as we
overcome. And to Hudson Taylor, the secret of overcoming lay in daily, hourly
fellowship with God.

This, he learned, could only be maintained by personal prayer and faithful
meditation on God's word. With the life he lived and its demands on his time and
energy, finding opportunity for his own spiritual maintenance wasn't easy. But
he made it a priority.

On his last journey through China with his son and daughter-in-law, they
traveled month after month through northern China by cart and by wheelbarrow.
The inns they stayed in by night offered only the crudest accommodations. Often,
then, there would be only one large room for everyone spending the night in the
inn.

His children would screen off a portion of the room for their father with
curtains of some sort. Then, after everyone was asleep, they would be wakened to
the sound of a match striking, and see the flicker of candlelight which told
them Hudson was awake and reading his Bible. From 2 a.m. to 4 a.m. was his usual
prayer time, the time he could count on being undisturbed in prayer.

And that flicker of candlelight said more to his children about prayer than
anything they ever read or heard on the subject. And he not only read it, he
lived it. Hudson Taylor stopped at no sacrifice in following Christ.

Cross-loving men are needed, he wrote in the midst of his labors in China, and
if he could speak to us today, he would no doubt say again. There is a needs-be
for us to give ourselves for the life of the world. An easy, non-self-denying
life will never be one of power.

Fruit-bearing involves cross-bearing. There are not two Christ's, an easy-going
one for easy-going Christians, and a suffering, toiling one for exceptional
believers. There is only one Christ.

Are you willing to abide in Him, and thus to bear much fruit? And with this, we
complete the book, Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secret, published by Discovery
House. A personal thank you to Dr. Arthur Chang for his assistance in helping me
to pronounce the Chinese names in this account. My apologies to him and others
where I did not learn my lessons well.

Also, thanks to my engineer, Mike Lewis, without whose help and adaptation to my
schedule, this program would not be a reality. And thanks to you, the listener,
for staying with us. This is Gary Dorman.


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Source: https://sermonindex.net/books/hudson-taylors-spiritual-secrets/
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