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The news was soon noised
about Tamsui that one of the three
barbarians who had so lately visited the town had returned to
make the place his home. This was most unwelcome tidings to the
heathen, and the air was filled with mutterings and threatenings,
and every one was determined to drive the foreign devil out if at
all possible. So Mackay found himself meeting every kind of
opposition. He was too independent to ask assistance from the
British consul in the old Dutch fort on the bluff, or of any
other European settlers in Tamsui. He was bound to make his own
way. But it was not easy to do so in view of the forces which
opposed him. He had now been in Formosa about two months and had
studied the Chinese language every waking hour, but it was very
difficult, and he found his usually ready tongue wofully
handicapped.
His first concern was to
get a dwelling-place, and he went from
house to house inquiring for some place to rent. Everywhere he
went he was turned away with rough abuse, and occasionally the
dogs were set upon him.
But at last he was
successful. Up on the bank of the river, a
little way from the edge of the town, he found a place which the
owner condescended to rent. lilt was a miserable little hut, half
house, half cellar, built into the side of the hill facing the
river. A military officer had intended for his horse stable, and
yet Mackay paid for this hovel the sum of fifteen dollars a
month. It had three rooms, one without a floor. The road ran past
the door, and a few feet beyond was the river. By spending money
rather liberally he managed to hire the coolie who had
accompanied him to south Formosa. With his servant's help Mackay
had his new establishment thoroughly cleaned and whitewashed, and
then he moved in his furniture. He laughed as he called it
furniture, for it consisted of but two packing boxes full of
books and clothing. But more came later. The British consul, Mr.
Frater, lent him a chair and a bed. There was one old Chinese,
who kept a shop near by, and who seemed inclined to be friendly
to the queer barbarian with the black beard. He presented him
with an old pewter lamp, and the house was furnished complete.
Mackay sat down at his
one table, the first night after he was
settled. The damp air was hot and heavy, and swarms of tormenting
mosquitoes filled the room. Through the open door came the murmur
of the river, and from far down in the village the sounds of
harsh, clamorous voices. He was alone, many, many miles from home
and friends. Around him on every side were bitter enemies.
One might have supposed
he would be overcome at the thought of
the stupendous task before him, but whoever supposed that did not
know George Mackay. He lighted his pewter lamp, opened his diary,
and these are the words he wrote:
"Here I am in this house,
having been led all the way from the
old homestead in Zorra by Jesus, as direct as though my boxes
were labeled, `Tamsui, Formosa, China.' Oh, the glorious
privilege to lay the foundation of Christ's Church in unbroken
heathenism! God help me to do this with the open Bible! Again I
swear allegiance to thee, O King Jesus, my Captain. So help me
God!"
And now his first duty
was to learn the Chinese language. He
could already speak a little, but it would be a long time, he
knew, before he could preach. And yet, how was he to learn? he
asked himself. He was a scholar without a teacher or school. But
there was his servant, and nothing daunted by the difficulties to
be overcome, he set to work to make him his teacher also.
George Mackay always went
at any task with all his might and
main, and he attacked the Chinese language in the same manner. He
found it a hard stone to break, however. "Of all earthly things I
know of," he remarked once, "it is the most intricate and
difficult to master."
His unwilling teacher was
just about as hard to manage as his
task, for the coolie did not take kindly to giving lessons. He
certainly had a rather hard time. Pay and night his master
deluged him with questions. He made him repeat phrases again and
again until his pupil could say them correctly. He asked him the
name of everything inside the house and out, until the easy-going
Oriental was overcome with dismay. This wild barbarian, with the
fiery eyes and the black beard, was a terrible creature who gave
one no rest night nor day. Sometimes after Mackay had spent
hours with him, imitating sounds and repeating the names of
things over and over, his harassed teacher would back out of the
room stealthily, keeping an anxious eye on his master, and
showing plainly he had grave fears that the foreigner had gone
quite mad.
Mackay realized that the
pace was too hard for his servant, and
that the poor fellow was in a fair way to lose what little wits
he had, if not left alone occasionally. So one day he wandered
out along the riverbank, in search of some one who would talk
with him. He turned into a path that led up the hill behind the
town. He was in hopes he might meet a farmer who would be
friendly.
When he reached the top
of the bluff he found a grassy common
stretching back toward the rice-fields. Here and there over these
downs strayed the queer-looking water-buffaloes. Some of them
were plunged deep in pools of water, and lay there like pigs with
only their noses out.
He heard a merry laugh
and shout from another part of the common,
and there sat a crowd of frolicsome Chinese boys, in large sun
hats, and short loose trousers. There were about a dozen of them,
and they were supposed to be herding the water-buffaloes to keep
them out of the unfenced fields. But, boy like, they were flying
kites, and letting their huge-horned charges herd themselves.
Mackay walked over toward
them. It was not so long since he had
been a boy himself, and these jolly lads appealed to him. But the
moment one caught sight of the stranger, he gave a shout of
alarm. The rest jumped up, and with yells of terror and cries of
"Here's the foreign devil!" "Run, or the foreign devil will get
you!" away they went helter-skelter, their big hats waving, their
loose clothes flapping wildly. They all disappeared like magic
behind a big boulder, and the cause of their terror had to walk
away.
But the next day, when
his servant once more showed signs of
mental exhaustion, he strolled out again upon the downs. The boys
were there and saw him coming. Though they did not actually run
away this time, they retired to a safe distance, and stood ready
to fly at any sign of the barbarian's approach. They watched him
wonderingly. They noticed his strange white face, his black
beard, his hair cut off quite short, his amazing hat, and his
ridiculous clothes. And when at last he walked away, and all
danger was over, they burst into shouts of laughter.
The next day, as they
scampered about the common, here again came
the absurd looking stranger, walking slowly, as though careful not
to frighten them. The boys did not run away this time, and to
their utter astonishment he spoke to them. Mackay had practised
carefully the words he was to say to them, and the well-spoken
Chinese astounded the lads as much as if one of the monkeys that
gamboled about the trees of their forests should come down and
say, "How do you do, boys?"
"Why, he speaks our
words!" they all cried at once.
As they stood staring,
Mackay took out his watch and held it up
for them to see. It glittered in the sun, and at the sight of it
and the kind smiling face above, they lost their fears and
crowded around him. They examined the watch in great wonder. They
handled his clothes, exclaimed over the buttons on his coat, and
inquired what they were for. They felt his hands and his fingers,
and finally decided that, in spite of his queer looks, he was
after all a man.
From that day the young
missionary and the herd-boys were great
friends. Every day he joined them in the buffalo pasture, and
would spend from four to five hours with them. And as they were
very willing to talk, he not only learned their language rapidly,
but also learned much about their homes, their schools, their
customs, and their religion.
One day, after a lengthy
lesson from his servant, the latter
decided that the barbarian was unbearable, and bundling up his
clothes he marched off, without so much as "by your leave." So
Mackay fell back entirely upon his little teachers on the common.
With their assistance in the daytime and his Chinese-English
dictionary at night, he made wonderful progress.
He was left alone now, to
get his own meals and keep the swarms
of flies and the damp mold out of his hut by the riverside. He
soon learned to eat rice and water-buffalo meat, but he missed
the milk and butter and cheese of his old Canadian home. For he
discovered that cows were never milked in Formosa. There was
variety of food, however, as almost every kind of vegetable that
he had ever tasted and many new kinds that he found delicious
were for sale in the open-fronted shops in the village. Then the
fruits! They were fresh at all seasons-- oranges the whole year,
bananas fresh from the fields--and such pineapples! He realized
that he had never really tasted pineapples before.
Meanwhile, he was
becoming acquainted. All the families of the
herd-boys learned to like him, and when others came to know him
they treated him with respect. He was a teacher, they learned,
and in China a teacher is always looked upon with something like
reverence. And, besides, he had a beard. This appendage was
considered very honorable among Chinese, so the black bearded
barbarian was respected because of this.
But there was one class
that treated him with the greatest scorn.
These were the Chinese scholars. They were the literati, and were
like princes in the land. They despised every one who was not a
graduate of their schools, and most of all they despised this
barbarian who dared to set himself up as a teacher. Mackay had
now learned Chinese well enough to preach, and his sermons
aroused the indignation of these proud graduates.
Sometimes when one was
passing the little hut by the river, he
would drop in, and glance around just to see what sort of place
the barbarian kept. He would pick up the Bible and other books,
throw them on the floor, and with words of contempt strut proudly
out.
Mackay endured this
treatment patiently, but he set himself to
study their books, for he felt sure that the day was not far
distant when he must meet these conceited literati in argument.
He went about a good deal
now. The Tamsui people became
accustomed to him, and he was not troubled much. His bright eyes
were always wide open and he learned much of the lives of the
people he had come to teach. Among the poor he found a poverty of
which he had never dreamed. They could live upon what a so-called
poor family in Canada would throw away. Nothing was wasted in
China. He often saw the meat and fruit tins he threw away when
they were emptied, reappearing in the market-place. He learned
that these poorer people suffered cruel wrongs at the hands of
their magistrates. He visited a yamen, or court-house, and saw
the mandarin dispense justice," but his judgment was said to be
always given in favor of the one who paid him the highest bribe.
He saw the widow robbed, and the innocent suffering frightful
tortures, and sometimes he strode home to his little hut by the
river, his blood tingling with righteous indignation. And then he
would pray with all his soul:
"O God, give me power to
teach these people of thy love through
Jesus Christ!"
But of all the horrors of
heathenism, and there were many, he
found the religion the most dreadful. He had read about it when
on board ship, but he found it was infinitely worse when written
in men's lives than when set down in print. He never realized
what a blessing was the religion of Jesus Christ to a nation
until he lived among a people who did not know Him.
He found almost as much
difficulty in learning the Chinese
religion as the Chinese language. After he had spent days trying
to understand it, it would seem to him like some horrible
nightmare filled with wicked devils and no less wicked gods and
evil spirits and ugly idols. And to make matters worse there was
not one religion, but a bewildering mixture of three. First of
all there was the ancient Chinese religion, called Confucianism.
Confucius, a wise man of China, who lived ages before, had laid
down some rules of conduct, and had been worshiped ever since.
Very good rules they were as far as they went, and if the Chinese
had followed this wise man they would not have drifted so far
from the truth. But Confucianism meant ancestor-worship. In every
home was a little tablet with the names of the family's ancestors
upon it, and every one in the house worshiped the spirits of
those departed. With this was another religion called Taoism.
This taught belief in wicked demons who lurked about people ready
to do them some ill. Then, years and years before, some people
from India had brought over their religion, Buddhism, which had
become a system of idol-worship. These three religions were so
mixed up that the people themselves were not able to distinguish
between them. The names of their idols would cover pages, and an
account of their religion would fill volumes. The more Mackay
learned of it, the more he yearned to tell the people of the one
God who was Lord and Father of them all.
As soon as he had learned
to write clearly, he bought a large
sheet of paper, and printed on it the ten commandments in Chinese
characters. Then he hung it on the outside of his door. People
who passed read it and made comments of various kinds. Several
threw mud at it, and at last a proud graduate, who came striding
past his silk robes rustling grandly, caught the paper and tore
it down. Mackay promptly put up another. It shared the fate of
the first. Then he put up a third, and the people let it alone.
Even these heathen Chinese were beginning to get an impression of
the dauntless determination of the man with whom they were to get
much better acquainted.
And all this time, while
he was studying and working and arguing
with the heathen and preaching to them, the young missionary was
working just as hard at something else; something into which he
was putting as much energy and force as he did into learning the
Chinese langrnige. With all his might and main, day and night, he
was praying--praying for one special object. He had been praying
for this long before he saw Formosa. He was pleading with God to
give him, as his first convert, a young man of education. And so
he was always on the lookout for such, as he preached and taught,
and never once did he cease praying that he might find him.
One forenoon he was
sitting at his books, near the open door,
when a visitor stopped before him. lilt was a fine-looking young
man, well dressed and with all the unmistakable signs of the
scholar. He had none of the graduate's proud insolence, however,
for when Mackay arose, he spoke in the most gentlemanly manner.
At the missionary's invitation he entered, and sat down, and the
two chatted pleasantly. The visitor seemed interested in the
foreigner, and asked him many questions that showed a bright,
intelligent mind. When he arose to go, Mackay invited him to come
again, and he promised he would. He left his card, a strip of
pink paper about three inches by six; the name on it read Giam
Cheng Hoa. Mackay was very much interested in him, he was so
bright, so affable, and such pleasant company. He waited
anxiously to see if he would return.
At the appointed hour the
visitor was at the door, and the
missionary welcomed him warmly. The second visit was even more
pleasant than the first. And Mackay told his guest why he had
come to Formosa, and of Jesus Christ who was both God and man and
who had come to the earth to save mankind.
The young man's bright
eyes were fixed steadily upon the
missionary as he talked, and when he went away his face was very
thoughtful. Mackay sat thinking about him long after he had left.
He had met many
graduates, but none had impressed him as had this
youth, with his frank face and his kind, genial manner. There was
something too about the young fellow, he felt, that marked him as
superior to his companions. And then a sudden divine inspiration
flashed into the lonely young missionary's heart. THIS WAS HIS
MAN! This was the man for whom he had been praying. The stranger
had as yet shown no sign of conversion, but Mackay could not get
away from that inspired thought. And that night he could not
sleep for joy.
In a day or two the young
man returned. With him was a noted
graduate, who asked many questions about the new religion. The
next day he came again with six graduates, who argued and
discussed.
When they were gone
Mackay paced up and down the room and faced
the serious situation which he realized he was in. He saw plainly
that the educated men of the town were banded together to beat
him in argument. And with all his energy and desperate
determination he set to work to be ready for them.
His first task was to
gain a thorough knowledge of the Chinese
religions. He had already learned much about them, both from
books on shipboard and since he had come to the island. But now
he spent long hours of the night, poring over the books of
Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism, by the light of his smoky
little pewter lamp. And before the next visit of his enemies he
knew almost more of their jumble of religions than they did
themselves.
It was well he was
prepared, for his opponents came down upon him
in full force. Every day a band of college graduates, always
headed by Giam Cheng Hoa, came up from the town to the
missionary's little hut by the river, and for hours they would
sit arguing and talking. They were always the most noted scholars
the place could produce, but in spite of all their cleverness the
barbarian teacher silenced them every time. He fairly took the
wind out of their sails by showing he knew quite as much about
Chinese religions as they did. If they quoted Confucius to
contradict the Bible, he would quote Confucius to contradict
them. He confounded them by proving that they were not really
followers of Confucius, for they did not keep his sayings. And
with unanswerable arguments he went on to show that the religion
taught by Jesus Christ was the one and only religion to make man
good and noble.
Each day the group of
visitors grew larger, and at last one
morning, as Mackay looked out of his door, he saw quite a crowd
approaching. They were led, as usual, by the friendly young
scholar. By his side walked, or rather, swaggered a man of whom
the missionary had often heard. He was a scholar of high degree
and was famed all over Formosa for his great learning. Behind him
came about twenty men, and Mackay could see by their dress and
appearance that they were all literary graduates. They were
coming in great force this time, to crush the barbarian with
their combined knowledge. lie met them at the door with his usual
politeness and hospitality. He was always courteous to these
proud literati, but he always treated them as equals, and showed
none of the deference they felt he owed them. The crowd seated
itself on improvised benches and the argument opened.
This time Mackay led the
attack. He carried the war right into
the enemy's camp. Instead of letting them put questions to him,
he asked them question after question concerning Confucianism,
Buddhism, and Taoism. They were questions that sometimes they
could not answer, and to their chagrin they had to hear "the
barbarian" answer for them. There were other questions, still
more humiliating, which, when they answered, only served to show
their religion as false and degrading. Their spokesman, the great
learned man, became at last so entangled that there was nothing
for him but flight. He arose and stalked angrily away, and in a
little while they all left. Mackay looked wistfully at young Giam
as he went out, wondering what effect these words had upon him.
He was not left long in
doubt. Not half an hour after a shadow
fell across the open Bible the missionary was studying. He
glanced up. There he stood! His bright face was very serious. He
looked gravely at the other young man, and his eyes shone as he
spoke.
"I brought all those
graduates and teachers here," he confessed,
"to silence you or be silenced. And now I am convinced that the
doctrines you teach are true. I am determined to become a
Christian, even though I suffer death for it."
Mackay rose from his
seat, his face alight with an overwhelming
joy. The man he had prayed for! He took the young fellow's hand -
speechless. And together the only missionary of north Formosa and
his first convert fell upon their knees before the true God and
poured out their hearts in joy and thanksgiving. |
