Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secrets

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.