Part 5
“Because,” was the answer, “this stone is the most perfect jade under Heaven. You will be the envy of all the kingdoms of the earth.” The Emperor was distrustful, but he commanded that it be cut and polished and the man who brought it be put in prison. After three days the master-workman returned and delivered, with great reverence, the stone, now indeed the most beautiful in all the world. “No words can describe its loveliness. It is indeed from the gods, and only the gods should wear it,” exclaimed the Emperor, as he held it in his hand. The poor workman was given a great reward. Soon the fame of this wonderful treasure spread over “all the earth”; songs were composed about it; wonderful stories grew up around it until every king who heard of it was filled with envy and sought, by fair or foul means, to possess it.
At last, when the Chou dynasty was going into a decline and the Chin was coming into power, the Prince of Chin sent to the Prince of Chou and promised him twelve cities in exchange for the jade treasure. The Prince of Chou was very sad. He knew, if he did not accept the proposal, the Prince of Chin would make war on him and take it by force, and he also felt sure he would not get the promised cities. In his despair he called his most trusted minister, Lui Hsiang Jui, who, after hearing the demand, said, “My great and mighty Prince, do not be troubled or anxious; let me take the treasure to the Prince of Chin. I promise, on my life, to send it back to you if indeed he does not make over the promised cities.” At last it was so decided, and the minister started on his errand.
On reaching the palace of the Prince of Chin, he was welcomed with great state and pomp. After the feasting and festivities were over he presented the jade with great reverence and asked for the twelve cities. The Prince of Chin said nothing in return, but feasted his eyes on the beautiful stone. At last he said, “The residents of the inner palace” (i.e., ladies) “have heard of this wonderful stone and are most anxious to see it. I will send it in to them and you make ready for a second feast I have prepared in your honour.” The minister went to the apartments appointed for him, in great distress of mind. He felt sure the Prince of Chin was not to be trusted, and he must think of some plan by which he could recover the jewel. At the feast nothing was said of the cities, though he inquired about them, and at last he pointedly asked, “Prince of the Great Chin, do you know what it is in the jade that makes it the most beautiful the gods have made?”
The Prince replied, “No, tell me.”
The minister replied, “Have the jade brought and I will show you.” Immediately a servant was sent to bring the jade and at the command of the Prince handed it to the Minister of Chou, who, on feeling it once more in his hand, put it in his bosom and sprang to his feet. Putting his back against a pillar, he said, “Great Prince, you think to deceive my master, the very Great Prince of Chou; you do not intend to give him the twelve cities. With my life I will protect this treasure of my country, the pride of my Prince, and if any one attempts to take it from me I will dash it to the ground and destroy it first.”
The Prince of Chin was afraid the jade would either be injured or destroyed if a struggle for possession took place, so he caused the minister to be locked in his rooms until he should willingly give it up.
The news spread all through the kingdom. One day a poorly-clad stranger came to the city and went from house to house begging. When he came to the court where the Minister of Chou was confined, he managed to communicate with him and let him know that he was a countryman of his and would take the treasure home. The minister, Lui Hsiang Jui, folded it in a paper and gave it to him. The next day the Prince of Chin sent and demanded the jade. The minister said, “Tell your Great Prince I have sent it back, as I promised, to my Liege Lord.” At first they did not believe his story and a great search was made, but they could find no trace of the treasure. The Prince of Chin was terribly angry and commanded that the minister be killed; then, for fear of the Prince of Chou, he allowed him to depart to his home and country, hoping that the fortunes of war would bring the desired jewel into his possession. He himself did not live to secure it, but long years afterward one of his descendants overthrew the Kingdom of Chou and the much desired and long struggled for jade treasure, “The joy of the gods,” came to the Kingdom of Chin.
CHINESE HEROISM
During the days between June 8th and August 14th, 1900 A.D., many brave deeds were seen and applauded by the foreigners shut within the walls of Peking. They will go down in history and make fascinating the story of the siege of Peking. The world will never tire of reading of the charges made to capture cannon that were sending their shells into the British Legation, and of the bravery of the Japanese who held the Prince’s palace through fire, shot, and shell: Only twenty-five in number when they entered the city, by August 14th only three had not been killed or wounded. The brave British soldier went to his dangerous post not knowing when a stray bullet would pick him off. Only those who held the outposts can know what bravery it required during some of those awful night attacks. Those who worked in the hospital know what courage it required in the poor wounded men to keep on their beds when it seemed as if the enemy were breaking in. The experiences of the brave messengers have been given to the world; and the story of the rescue party, headed by Dr. Morrison of the London Times, by which several hundred Catholic Christians were saved, has also stirred the hearts of many.
The brave deed to which the writer calls attention is known to but few, will probably never be recorded in song or story, and yet it took the truest courage, and reveals as true heroism as was ever heralded abroad. Those who have read the events of the past summer carefully will remember that the missionaries and many hundreds of converts were in semi-siege at the M. E. Mission for twelve days before going to the British Legation. We had a guard of twenty American marines. The chapel there had been barricaded and was to be the place of retreat in case of an attack from Boxers. Captain Hall had asked some of the foreign ladies to have charge of getting the Chinese women and children into the chapel when the order was given. He also had told us we must impress upon the women the necessity of keeping the children perfectly quiet. In case of an attack the crying of children would not only annoy the soldiers, but might interfere with their hearing commands, and would also give a range to the enemy. Much was said to the poor mothers along this line because Chinese women, as a rule, have little thought and less method in training their children.
June 13th, about half-past six, we were startled by the news that the front chapel was in flames; a moment or two after came the word for all women to get to the chapel. The Boxers had started down the street toward the place we were in, but had been charged and driven back by the marines, under Captain Hall. It was feared that they might rally for another attack and come with a stronger force. We were given five minutes to get the women and children into the chapel. They came along very quietly and without any disturbance.
After we were all in we asked the soldiers on guard to let us go once more through the house set aside for the Chinese. We feared some might have been left behind. At first they said no, but finally gave us five minutes, and we fairly flew from court to court and room to room. At last we reached one of the schoolrooms, and there in the dark, crouched among the seats, were two women and four little children. “Why are you here, did you not get the message? Hurry, hurry, or we shall be too late!” were our questions and exclamations. “Yes,” they said, “we did, but we were afraid our children would cry and endanger all the others. Our babies are sick and cry all the time and we thought it better that we die outside than to make others suffer with us.” It took but a moment to get the story, get them out from under the seat, and on the way to the chapel. We promised to help them with their little ones and their look of gratitude was most touching. The fathers of these children were out protecting the courts, and the two brave women were ready to die rather than seek shelter when in so doing they might endanger and bring disaster upon others. When they decided to stay outside they were as true martyrs as any who went to the block. They gave up their lives in order, as they thought, to save others. “Greater love hath no man than this.”
“For such Death’s portal opens not in gloom, But its pure crystal, hinged on solid gold, Shows avenues interminable—shows Amaranth and palm quivering in sweet accord Of human, mingled with angelic, song.”
LITERARY GLORY
“Give me the grace to bear my burden so That men may learn the secret of my power, And meet each trouble with their face aglow, And voice their praises in the midnight hour; For when our helplessness cries unto thee, Thy power descends in Christ to set us free.”
From of old the scholars and writers of all lands have desired and sought for literary glory, and have considered it far more precious than gold or gems. In no country has this been more true than in China. Some of the greatest of this land have passed through much privation and suffering to attain this end. It is not of one of these I wish to write.
“Literary Glory” was the name of a young girl who entered the Bridgman School twelve years ago. She was a bright, pleasant girl, and had many friends. She was a good student and during the years of her school life her teachers came to see there was in her the making of a strong, true woman. She was engaged to a young man of good character, but neither he nor his family had any interest in Christianity.
Seven years ago she left her school home for the home of her husband who lived in the village of Lu T’ai, fifteen miles northeast of Peking. A year ago the writer visited her in her village and at night shared the same room. It was a wonderful story she told as she poured out her heart to her friend. Would you could have heard it. I give it to you as best I can remember. She said, “When I went to my husband’s home I made up my mind that I would work and pray with all my might to bring him and his mother to know and love Jesus. God only knows what I had to endure. I was so homesick for my school friends, so longed to go to church and prayer-meeting. There was only one other Christian in the place and he was away most of the time. The day after I was married my husband took all my books and cards and put them in the fire. I did not dare let him see me cry, but in the dead of night I poured it all out to God and was comforted.”
“In this home I have been but a servant to his grandmother, mother, and sisters, but my reward has come to me because they all love me, and my husband and his mother have become Christians. I have had to work very hard from early morning till late at night. In summer time I have worked all day, ploughing, spading, hoeing, and cutting the grain. Five years ago, during the heavy rains, our house fell down and we were too poor to hire enough men to rebuild, so I helped make the mud bricks and when they came to building the walls I sent up to them all the mud and plaster used. With my own hands I plastered the inside walls and cleaned up the court, but,” said the dear girl as she took my hand, “it is such a joy now and God has been good to me.”
Much more we said in the hours of the night. How my heart ached as she told me how she had longed with such a longing for Christian fellowship and companionship. She talked of her school life, and the comfort she had as she recalled what she had learned. She was teaching her two little sisters, hoping they could go up to the Bridgman School.
Little did either of us dream how short the earthly joy was to be, or how soon the Heavenly reward was to begin. Very early the next morning she was up helping to get breakfast, and from her mother-in-law and a neighbour who came in I heard much that filled my heart with joy and pride. The mother said, “When I heard the girl my son was engaged to was a Christian and in school I was very angry and wanted to break off the engagement. I looked with great dread upon her coming to us; but I want to tell you, she is the best daughter-in-law in the place. In all these years we have not had a single quarrel and that cannot be said of any other family. My youngest children love her and mind her better than they do me. I thought she would want to read all the time and so had my son burn her books. I thought she would be above farm work, and all these years she has worked so hard and with never one word of complaint. One year we lost all our crops and in the winter had to send to the market town, six miles away, for the famine relief grain. She had to go early, walk there and back, and carry our portion. She did not have any warm clothes that winter, but she did not say anything.”
“Yes,” chimed in the neighbour, “I had to go too that winter, and your Wen Jung (Literary Glory) was so modest and ladylike, never pushing or crowding, that the official asked who she was and gave her more grain.” Again the mother-in-law said, “When I saw how she endured the hardships, always so strong and true, I knew it must be her religion, for I too have been a daughter-in-law. She is always kind to the old grandmother, who has a terrible temper. I have known Wen Jung to stay up all night to make her a pair of shoes. Yes, my daughter-in-law is the only one of the family who has not felt her stick or been reviled by her. When I saw how her God helped her I just wanted to know Him. Now for months Wen Jung has had evening prayers and has taught me to pray.”
It was so delightful to sit there and hear all these sweet things of one of our schoolgirls. It was a joy to see her pride in her poor home where everything was very clean and neat, and as she moved about getting breakfast I thanked God for this “new woman” in China. With what loving care she waited on us. How she did want to show her love; later on, when the neighbouring women came in for a little service she came and sat with her arms about me. I said to the women, “She is our girl student and we love her.” “Yes,” said some one, “she is always talking about her foreign friends. For years we have wanted to see you. You may be proud of her, she is the best daughter-in-law in the place.” About noon I left, promising to visit her on my return from the place I was going to visit and hold a station class.
Alas! the death of a member of our station called me to Peking by the shortest road, and the next month the Boxer storm burst upon us. After the fury was spent and we could get news of those distant from us, we found that nine of the ten who belonged to us in that place had been cut down. The Boxers came at sunrise one beautiful morning in June and the mother-in-law was killed at once in her own room. “Literary Glory” ran out of the house and out into a field, but was overtaken and most brutally hacked to pieces. Her husband was taken to a temple, tried, and beheaded. Brave, true-hearted, humble “Literary Glory.” If ever any one heard the “well done” she did. She gained two souls for the Master she loved and left a name that will be fragrant for long years in that village. Faithful in the small things, she filled the cup to overflowing by giving her life. What is her “new name” up there, think you? Is it “Heavenly Glory”? My young readers who have given your money for Bridgman School and helped to educate this dear girl, does the result of your investment satisfy you? Can you not say with her, “My reward has come to me, God has been very good to me”?
“We take with solemn thankfulness Our burden up, nor ask it less; And count it joy that even we May suffer, serve or wait for thee. Thy will be done.”
HOW THE DOG AND CAT CAME TO BE ENEMIES
Of the thousand and one stories the old women of China love to tell their children and grandchildren, none is so great a favourite as the one, “How the dog and cat came to be enemies for all time.” The little black eyes grow bright as diamonds as they listen, and no bedtime story of Mother Goose of Western lands is more treasured. Let me tell you the story, and as you listen possibly you can see the dear little children of the great flowery kingdom, many of them looking like little flowers gathered about some old grandma who loves and pets them as do the grandmas of all lands.
In the long, long ago there lived in the country a poor widow who had only one son; but he was very kind and good to her, working early and late to support her. She was his one thought, but with all his efforts it was but a poor living that he could give her, and it was a great sorrow to him. One day the gods said, “Such a son must be helped;” so after talking the matter over, one of them, dressed as a temple priest, went to their gate and knocked. The widow came and opened the gate, but seeing the guest, she said, “Too bad, too bad. I am so poor I cannot give you any help to-day.” To this the priest replied, “I have not come to get your help but to help you.” When the woman heard this, she said, “I never heard of such a thing.” The priest said, “It is a fact, and I now give you this gold ornament. When you wish to cook a meal you put this in the kettle, put on the cover, light your fire, and then repeat to the kettle several times what you want to eat. When the water boils the food is ready; take off the cover and eat, and you and your son be happy.” With his joyful but incredible news he was gone. The old lady looked at the gold ornament in her hand, thought of what had been said to her, and wondered if she was asleep and it was all a dream. To make sure, she said, “I will try this charm and see if it will work or if the priest has lied to me; I want some meat dumplings for supper.” She put on her kettle, lighted her fire, and then repeated over and over again till the water boiled, “I want dumplings, meat dumplings. Come, dumplings, come.” When the water boiled she took off the cover, and behold the kettle was full of the most delicious-looking dumplings. “Ah,” she said, “what good fortune is mine, what good fortune is mine!” Never had she tasted such food in all her poor life. After eating all she could, she fed the cat and dog, and they, too, were wild with delight. How their sides filled out, and they jumped upon her to express their thanks. “Now,” said she, “I will get my son a good supper,” and again she repeated the process. When he came home looking so tired, she said, “I have a good supper for you to-night, my son; all you want and more.” “A good supper,” thought he; “how can that be, since all we ever have is millet and cornmeal?” But to his mother he said, “Nothing you make is bad; it all tastes good.” When she took the cover off and told him to look, he could hardly believe his eyes. He had seen such food but never tasted it. The mother said, “Son, eat, and I will tell you all about our good luck.” When she had concluded her story she showed him the golden ornament. “It is from the gods, my mother, and they have taken pity on you. I am indeed a happy son.”
After this, day by day, the mother and son and the household cat and dog had plenty to eat and all was happiness in the little family.