A Korean Christian Starts Work in Haing Ju--Changed Lives
of Believers--A Reformed Saloon-keeper--The Conversion
of a Sorceress--Best of Friends--A Pleasant Night on the
Water--Evidence of Christian Living--Our Visit in Sorai--A
Korean Woman’s Work--How a Kang Acts at Times--Applicants
for Baptism--Two Tonghaks--In a Strait betwixt Two--Midnight
Alarms--Miss Jacobson’s Death.
In the late fall of the same year Mr. Underwood and I started again
on a trip to the interior, the first we had made together since
our wedding journey, but now we were accompanied by our child, six
years old, and a native woman, who acted as cook, nurse and general
assistant. She rode in a native “_pokyo_” or chair with the child, I in
another, while Mr. Underwood walked or rode his bicycle, as opportunity
permitted. Our first destination was Haing Ju, a dirty little fishing
village on the river, about ten miles from the capital. Work had
started here just after the cholera in the fall of 1895 through the
teaching of a native named Shin Wha Suni, a poor fellow who had,
according to his own confession, been hanging around us for some time,
pretending to be interested in Christianity, in the hope of getting
some lucrative employment in connection with church work.
After the cholera hospital was opened, he was there on several
occasions, and was much surprised to find that foreign women would
spend whole nights nursing sick Korean coolies. When he chanced to see
one weeping over a poor man, whom all her efforts had failed to save,
he went away astonished and impressed with the idea that “there is
something in that religion that makes them love us like that, something
that forgets self, something that I have never dreamed of before,
something mysterious, glorious, oh, that it were mine!”
He hungered and God fed him. He sought and found the Saviour, and
when he had found him, he set forth at once to tell the good news to
others. Taking a jikay, the frame which Koreans wear on their backs to
facilitate the carrying of heavy loads, and which all native carriers
use, he started forth to the country to earn his living in this humble
way while _chandohaoing_ or “passing on the Word.” He went as far as
Haing Ju, and there on the sand of the river bank he talked to scoffing
people all day.
At night, when it was dark, one of the men who had seemed to treat
his message lightly, came and asked him to come to his house and talk
the matter over at more length. He went, and soon another believer
was gained. “Oh, it was good, the taste of a soul saved,” said the
new preacher. “Now it seemed to me I could never be satisfied with
anything else; could never rest until I had more.” The man who had been
converted offered the use of his house as a preaching place. The men
gathered in one room, the women in another, and Shin read the gospels
and the tracts and taught them the catechism and hymns. The number
of Christians grew from week to week, and the little meeting place
became too small and had to be enlarged. The whole tone of the village
gradually changed, and from being known as one of the hardest and most
disreputable places on the river, it now became a model of decency and
respectability.
Testimony to this effect was offered by some farmers, who appeared
one day in my husband’s study and asked him if he had anything to do
with the Christians in Haing Ju. He replied in the affirmative, half
afraid the people had come with some charge against them. “Well,”
the strangers said, “we should like to buy the books which teach the
doctrine they are practicing there, we want to learn that doctrine in
our village too.”
Their village, Sam Oui, was not quite three miles away, and in former
times they had been much troubled by the brawls and bad character of
Haing Ju. Their vegetables had been stolen from the fields, their fruit
and chestnuts from the trees, “but now,” said they, “the people not
only do not climb the trees for the nuts, but the boys leave those on
the ground untouched.”
Here was power in a faith which kept hungry boys from carrying off
even nuts lying temptingly in reach. This was something the like
of which they had never seen or heard; they had been taught not to
steal, especially if likely to be discovered, but a power that could
prevent men and boys from wishing to steal was miraculous. One of the
saloon-keepers of Haing Ju, a man whose only source of livelihood
was in this trade, became thoroughly converted, and at once realized
that he could no longer sell drink to his neighbors, nor could he
conscientiously dispose of his stock in trade at wholesale to other
dealers, so he emptied it all on the street. He was able to obtain
a little work now and then, but he was not strong enough for coolie
labor. He had no trade and no farm, and at times his need was great,
and often the family were on the verge of starvation, but the man’s
faith never failed, he never gave up his hold on God. Finally sickness
attacked him, he became very lame, and hearing of the hospital in
Seoul, managed to be conveyed thither, and while there we heard his
story, and as I needed just then a caretaker for my dispensary, we
engaged him and his wife to live on the place and do the light work
necessary. His leg did not improve much at the hospital, nor did the
doctor give him much hope, but this, too, he made a subject of prayer
and faith, and erelong rejoiced in a complete recovery.
This is the character of the faith of these hardy fishermen and farmers
on the river. As we approached the village we were astonished to hear
the strains of a Christian hymn, “Happy day, happy day, when Jesus
washed my sins away.” It was a band of little boys whom Shin had been
training, and who had come out to meet us. We spent two or three days
in this place, women and men crowding into the little building to every
meeting. Mr. Underwood baptized thirty-eight people, a young couple
were married, one hundred and thirteen catechumens were received, and
some babies baptized.
Speaking of babies reminds me of a sad little incident which occurred
while I was holding the first meeting there with the women. Hoping to
win their interest, knowing how many little dead babies are carried
away from Korean homes, I told them of the Saviour’s love for little
ones, that he held them in his arms and caressed them when on earth,
and had said that the spirits of these little ones do always behold
the face of the Father; so that would they only believe and give their
hearts to him, they should see their little ones again in heaven.
A great sob broke from one of the women who commenced passionately
weeping. As soon as she could speak, she told me, her voice broken with
violent emotion, that she had been a sorceress, and in a moment of
frenzy had dashed her only child, a baby, to the floor and killed it.
She, a mother, had killed her child, and could she ever be happy again,
could God forgive such as she, could she ever be permitted to see her
murdered child again? She feared she was too wicked. All of us wept
with her, and she was told of the great mercy and pardoning love of
God, and found peace in Christ.
Mr. Underwood also visited Sam Oui, the village which had learned of
Christ through the example of Haing Ju, and baptized a handful of
Christians there, enrolling a number of catechumens. When people do
not seem quite ripe for baptism, yet have put away idolatry, keeping
the Sabbath, putting away concubines, and living a life of apparent
conformity with the ten commandments, they are enrolled in this class
of catechumens. While I was engaged during the morning with the women,
the “amah” was charged to take care of our little boy, but when the
service was over, as he was nowhere to be seen, we started out to find
him. As we walked down the lane we saw coming toward us a row of some
seven or eight boys of his age (the dirtiest in the town, I am sure),
he in the center, an arm around one on either side, all chatting and
laughing together in the merriest mood possible. How could we help
laughing, how help being half pleased, even while horrified at what
such contact might portend, how many varieties of microbes, not to
mention other things.
From Haing Ju we took a Korean junk down the river to Pai Chun. We went
on board at night, and as it was bitterly cold, we were told we must
go down under the deck, as there was absolutely no sheltered place
above where we could sleep. The hole to which we were relegated was
not attractive. There were odors of fish ages old, the space was not
high enough even to sit upright in, and barely wide enough for Mr.
Underwood, our child, our “amah” and myself to lie packed side by side
(no turning or moving about) in the stern.
A lantern glimmered at the other end, it looked very far. There was
water there, and perhaps rats, and certainly great water beetles and
cockroaches, and sometimes, hours and hours after we had been packed
in that gruesome place, a boatman came and crawled over us, and dipped
out buckets of water. Men were tramping back and forth over our heads
all night. I felt sure that some of them would come through, and there
seemed to be enough racket to indicate a storm at sea, a collision or a
fire--at times I was almost convinced it was all three. If it had been,
we certainly could never have made our escape from the trap in which we
were wedged like sardines. However, as we were merely sailing down a
broad, but not very deep river, and could easily have neared the shore
before sinking in most circumstances, things were not so bad as they
seemed, and next morning when we emerged into the bright sunlight what
had been a night fraught with awful probabilities was now simply an
amusing episode.
All day Sunday we sat on the deck in the sun, singing and enjoying the
brilliant atmosphere. From Pai Chun we proceeded on foot or in chairs
to Hai Ju, and thence to Sorai, where a theological leader’s class was
waiting for Mr. Underwood. Everywhere the warm-hearted welcome which
awaited us was a delightful surprise to me. People, even women and
children, came out miles to meet us, and followed us in crowds when we
left, as if they could not bear to let us go.
There were only a few beginnings of work in Hai Ju at that time. It
is the capital of the province and rather a demoralized town, even
in a heathen country, full of hangers-on of government officials,
people accustomed to getting a living out of the people through fraud,
bribery, oppression, “_squeezing_” and all sorts of political dirty
work and corruption; evil men and still more evil women spreading the
cancerous disease through the little town, until every one appears to
be steeped in “the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the
pride of life,” and worshipers of the god of this world.
[Illustration: KOREAN WOMEN AT WORK. PAGE 191]
As a special day had been set for the beginning of the class in Sorai,
and people were coming from all directions to meet us there, we
hastened on to be in time. Walking along the main road thither, Mr.
Underwood overtook a young farmer, with whom he opened conversation
in a friendly way, and asked if he had heard of the Jesus religion.
“_Yayso Kyo?_” “Oh, yes,” was the reply, “I have heard much of it,
many people in this province do that doctrine, it is very good.” “Do
you believe also?” said my husband. “Oh, no, I cannot be a believer,”
replied the man. “These Christians spend their time and money doing
good to others, I must do for myself, I cannot afford to practise this
doctrine.” This was unintentional witness borne to the fair fruit of
Christianity in the man’s believing friends and neighbors. A little
further on, as my chair was set down to rest the coolies, an old
woman ran out of a neighboring shanty to _kugung_ the foreigner. I
told her who I was and why I had come, and asked if she knew of this
doctrine. “Oh, yes, it was good, very good.” “Then why do you not
believe?” “Oh, I sell liquor, that is my business. I cannot do that
and be a Christian.” Another involuntary testimony to the lives of the
Christians of Whang Hai, and to the sincerity of those who had been
taught that the way must be made straight and clean for the coming of
the Lord.
When we arrived at Sorai I found the Christian women all gathered to
meet me in the house of one whom I had known before in Seoul. They
offered refreshments of their best, persimmons, pears, chestnuts and
eggs, and expressed their pleasure over our coming in the most cordial
and heart-warming way. Most of them I had never seen before, but we
seemed to love each other at first sight, for the bond in Christ is a
very strong one.
Mr. Kim Yun O, the wealthy man of the village, one who had been a
great sinner but was now one of the strongest and most earnest of the
leaders, had invited us to occupy his new sarang or guest room. It was
quite a commodious sunny room, and we were pleased to find it was quite
new, so we need fear few of our little enemies.
While Mr. Underwood was holding his classes with the men in the church
all day, patients of all kinds came to me in the mornings for several
hours. Then I taught the girls and boys how to sing the hymns, for they
had never known what it means to sing, and though they made a joyful
noise to the Lord, it was not joyful to the fleshly ear at all, but a
most awful combination of discords, flats and sharps, mixed up in the
most hopeless confusion, whole bunches of keys on one string, moanings,
groanings, sounds of woe as if all the contents of the pit had come
forth before the time, or all the evil spirits exorcised from the
village had returned to spoil their praise.
The young people were the most hopeful to begin with, and were
soon doing remarkably well. Every afternoon we women had a Bible
class together. Most of those who came were baptized Christians or
catechumens, though some unbelievers were always present. About
twenty-five crowded into Mr. Kim’s anpang each day. It is delightful to
be allowed to teach such women, so hungry for truth, so eager to learn,
so full of humble loving interest in every word, with such a spirit of
childlike faith.
Mrs. Kim, in whose house we were staying, was a busy woman, and her
life was not an easy one. She was small and frail, with two children,
her husband and old mother to work for, with one servant to help. The
preparation of food for her own family and many Korean guests (for a
Korean gentleman’s guest house is always well filled at meal time) was
in itself no light matter. The rice comes in very rough, only partly
husked, and must be pounded a long while in a great wooden vessel, with
a heavy club, larger at either end, which is almost all that a woman
can lift (a fine exercise for athletic women’s clubs). Water is usually
brought in on the head from quite a distance, brass bowls and spoons
kept bright, garments must be washed and smoothed, with what pains I
have already described, animals cared for, fires made.
But the country women work in the fields, too, helping to sow the
cotton, tobacco, rice and barley. When the cotton is ripe they pick
and prepare it, and only after much toil is it ready for use. Then
they weave their own cloth and make up their own garments, in the dark
little rooms in which the women live and work. They prepare and dry
certain vegetables for winter’s use, and with much labor, themselves
press out the castor oil which they use in their tiny lamps. In the
fall they make their kimchi for the whole year.
Timely hints dropped now and then, and the example of a Christian
husband’s care for his wife, have done wonders among the native
Christian homes, and much lightened the hard lot of the women. Of
course we did our own cooking in all these little villages, our
personal entertainment adding nothing to the work of the poor house
wife. The people at Sorai are extremely generous and were constantly
bringing us presents of chickens, eggs, persimmons, etc. We were much
embarrassed by all this bounty, for we knew the people were poor and
that such gifts cost a large sacrifice on their part.
When one’s wages are not more than ten cents a day a chicken means
quite a good deal of money. Yet we could not refuse their offerings,
for when we tried to do so they felt so hurt we found it was
impossible. The people already at that time were paying the running
expenses of a Christian day school, which they had endowed, by setting
apart the income from certain fields for this purpose, and if the crop
was poor and the income insufficient, they made it up to the required
amount.
While here in Sorai we had a new and rather unpleasant experience with
the working of the Korean _kang_, which we thought we knew well. In the
midst of winter the wind suddenly turned in the wrong direction for our
fires. The fire being built at one side of the house and the chimney
opening at the other, we made the very chilling discovery, that when
the wind blows into the smoke vent a fire cannot be coaxed to light.
Our room was bitterly cold, and it is surprising how a floor, which can
become intolerably hot, can also under the proper circumstances become
so cold and damp. I was obliged to wrap my rheumatic frame in furs and
rugs, while they brought in a great bowl or wharrow full of glowing
charcoal fire, with which I was comparatively unacquainted. However,
that night the room began dancing about in the giddiest kind of way,
all grew dark--and my husband spent several hours with me in the cold
night air outside our room, in the effort to ward off successive
fainting attacks. When our child, too, complained of headache and
giddiness, we no longer questioned the cause, and henceforth preferred
pure cold air to carbon dioxide.
It was interesting in the cold, sleety, snowy weather to see how the
Christians managed to attend church, even from long distances. The
women would fold up their clean skirts and put them with their shoes
and stockings on their heads, roll up their pajies or divided skirts
quite high out of the reach of wet, and with a thin cotton apron, or
no outer wrap at all over their heads and shoulders, trudge miles
through snow and mud, facing a cutting wind. Quite a number of people
were examined for baptism while we were there. One old woman, whose
case seemed rather doubtful on account of her ignorance, was asked
what was her dearest wish. “That I may be with Jesus always” was the
reply. “And how do you know you will always be with him?” “Because I am
holding close to him now, and will hold close all the way.” She had at
least learned that Jesus supplies the soul’s whole need, that to be in
his felt presence is heaven, and that to hold and be held by him is the
only way to reach and be kept there. Surely she had the end and aim of
all theology in a nutshell.
[Illustration: SCHOOL BOYS.
[Illustration: GIRLS SEWING AND WRITING WITH NATIVE TEACHER. PAGE 191]
I will copy a few notes from my diary on the testimony given by some of
the people who applied for baptism at this time.
No. 15, Mrs. Kim: Said her relatives and friends had all been trying
to induce her to believe, but her heart had grown harder and harder,
and she had determined she would not be a Christian; but suddenly one
night she saw herself with awful clearness, a great sinner, had that
moment yielded her heart, almost involuntarily (so irresistible was
the impulse), to Christ, and from that time had had perfect peace and
blessedness. Asked if she had spoken on this subject to unbelievers,
replied in affirmative. Has now been trusting Christ a year and three
months. This woman has done since then much devoted voluntary service
for her Master.
Another: At a time when those who wished for prayer were asked to raise
their hands, she says she raised hers, and at that moment felt as it
were a knife through her heart. From that time she has felt that she
belonged to Christ, and since then her mind has been at peace. She
prays regularly three times a day, but is praying all the time in her
heart. While she is praying she never falls into sin, but if through
some inadvertence and lack of prayer she sins, she asks God to pardon,
knowing that he will.
Another, No. 5: “Why do you believe?” “Because Jesus forgave me and
died for me.” “How do you know you are forgiven?” “Because the Bible
says he will forgive all that come to him.” Said he used to have a
wicked heart and worshiped devils, but now his heart and mind were
quite changed. Asked what repentance is, replied that it “was mending
one’s conduct and eating a new mind.” Asked if he had told the good
news to others, said he had, but no one in his neighborhood yet
believes. He cannot read, and asked who Jesus is, says he is God’s
only son. Asked why he died for us, says he doesn’t know. “Do your
neighbors know that you do not sacrifice any more?” “Yes.” “Do you
know you cannot have a concubine?” “Yes.” “Have you suffered anything
for Christ?” “They abuse me behind my back.” (He was the richest and
chief man of his district.) “If you have to suffer severely what will
you do?” “I will bear it, God will help me.” He pays the expenses of
well-taught Christians to go to his home and preach to his neighbors.
He comes a long distance to Sorai to church and seems anxious about his
neighbors’ souls. He came to the class bringing his own rice.
No. 6: Says he trusts Jesus because he knows he has forgiven his
sins. Knows they are forgiven because his heart is changed, his old
covetousness is all gone, it is now easy to do what Jesus commands. “Do
you ever forget Jesus?” “How could I forget him? How could I forget my
Lord?”
Another: Says that since spring, when Christ came into her heart, all
has been at peace. Asked, “Who is Jesus?” Replies, “God’s only son.”
“What is he to you?” “We are brethren since we have one Father.” “How
is God your Father?” “All believers are now his children.” “Are your
sins forgiven?” “Entirely forgiven.” “How do you know it?” “My mind is
now at peace. I am entirely happy.” “Are you not sad since your husband
died?” “Since after death we shall all live again at God’s right hand I
feel no anxiety.” “What if difficulties should arise?” “_I don’t know
about the future, but God takes care of me now, and I think he will
continue to do so._ I’ll tell Jesus and ask his help.” “Do you commit
sins now?” “On account of the flesh I cannot escape from sin, I cannot
say I do no sin.” Her father-in-law is not a believer, but though she
lives in his house she keeps the Sabbath and attends worship regularly.
No. 37 was a Tonghak, rebel and robber. Has believed nearly two years.
“Who is Jesus?” “He is God’s son.” “What has he done for us?” “He died
on the cross, and through his precious blood my sins are forgiven.” “Do
you know this?” “I know it.” “How do you know it?” “I cannot read the
Bible, but as I was a criminal, and Jesus has made me live, I know I am
forgiven.” “Where is Jesus?” “At God’s right hand.” “Anywhere else?”
“There is no place where he is not.” “What is Jesus doing for us?”
“I don’t know, I only know I am saved.” “Have you told others about
Jesus?” “I am always saying, Here was I a criminal, and Jesus forgave
me, and saved me from punishment, and gave me peace of mind, how can I
help but believe.”
This man comes ten miles to church in all weather. Even when twenty
miles away at work, he would come in late Saturday night to be at
church, stay all day, without his food, and go back at night over a
high mountain pass. He was one of two rebels, who came to the leader
and said they wanted to be followers of Christ and be baptized.
The leader said that if they were sincere Christians they must make
restitution by giving themselves up to justice. One of the two then
went to the Romanists, and is now one of the most notorious of the gang
of robbers and desperados under the lead of Father Wilhelm. The other,
this applicant, gave himself up, was thrown into jail and condemned
to death. While in jail he astounded the jailers and prisoners by
continually singing hymns of joy and praise. The prisoners declared he
was mad, as no one could sing like that in such a case. While he was
in jail the king escaped to the Russian legation, all prisoners were
set free and he was released. He has been a happy, consistent Christian
ever since.
Another is a young man of nineteen, has only lately begun to trust in
Christ. His father is a believer, his mother and wife are not. Baptism,
he says, is a sign of faith in Christ. He thinks it would never do not
to be baptized, but insists he is saved now. Says he knows and feels
it in his heart. He has destroyed all idols, and keeps the Sabbath. He
goes over the mountain three miles to church and allows no laborers to
work for him on Sunday, though he is obliged to pay them for the day’s
work as though they had. He comes at his own expense to attend the
class.
The above are given merely as a few specimens of the kind of questions
and replies commonly heard at these examinations. Only those whose
changed lives were witnessed to by leading Christians who know them
were baptized. After a delightful stay with these simple-hearted
Christians, where the world and all its evils seemed far removed, and
God very near, we were obliged at the close of the class to start back
to the capital. Our three temporarily hired coolies had forsaken us,
disliking to wait so long (about three weeks) without work, and it was
an impossibility to replace them in that neighborhood, where nobody
ever rides in a chair.
So we had to hire an ox-cart or _talgoogy_, the most primitive of all
possible wheeled conveyances, and in it, with our loads tucked in with
all our mattresses, quilts, rugs and pillows, was placed our little
treasure, our only child, with the woman servant.
With great difficulty a man was found who consented to help my own
servant carry my chair. But soon an unlooked-for difficulty arose. I
found the ox-cart had gone by a different road from that on which I had
come in my chair, for the former could not cross the narrow bridges
(mere footpaths for one) over the rivers, but must take the fords, far
too long a distance for the chair coolies. Nor could the cart take
the narrow paths over precipitous passes, which the chair must follow
to shorten the road for the carriers. I was assured that all would be
well, the helpers and Christians were with the child, and was forced to
submit to what could not now be helped. Mr. Underwood, after seeing me
well started, paced at a flying rate across to the other road to see
that all was well with the boy, and then back again to the wife.
At about five o’clock we reached a place where the two roads meet,
but no signs of the _talgoogy_. It was fast growing dark, a mountain
pass lay yet before us, the road was wild and lonely, we wished our
little one was with us. At length we went on to the village just beyond
the pass and waited. Time passed, but no tidings of the cart and its
precious contents. Darkness fell, the cold was bitter. Koreans were
sent out with lanterns to light the way for the belated, or render any
needed help. Still no word. At length Mr. Underwood himself, unable to
wait longer, went out to look for the party. And now with them both in
the lonely mountain, and night upon us, I had double need to trust in
God. One always knows that all will be well, will be for the best, but
as one cannot see whether that _best_ means God’s rod or his staff, the
heart will flutter in dread of the pain. Just to wait without fear upon
him, takes a calm, strong soul, and a full measure of grace.
At last, thank God, they both came back quite unharmed, only hungry and
cold, but the thought of tigers, leopards and robbers, that might have
met them, only made me realize more fully the mercy which brought them
safe to my arms.
That night we slept in a small Korean inn quite like all the rest,
only a little smaller and dirtier than most, with domestic animals
and fowls of all sorts quartered round us, the paper door of our room
only separating between them and us. Suddenly, about two or three in
the morning, we were startled out of our sleep by the most terrific
roaring, and the sounds of a general panic in the inn; the excited
shouts of men, women shrieking, and such a chorus of barking, yelping,
cackling, squealing as cannot be described. But the awful roaring,
and a stamping and hustling distinguishable above all, made it seem
probable that one or more wild animals of some sort had invaded the
hostel. Mr. Underwood hastily extinguished our light, which shining
through our door, might attract notice, and went out to discover the
cause of the uproar. He soon came back, saying that a couple of oxen,
usually so meek and tractable, had been fighting, had pulled themselves
loose from their stalls, and had now escaped, one chasing the other
out of the inn. They are enormous creatures, at times like this as
dangerous as any wild beast, and it was remarkable that no one in the
inn was seriously hurt, as they could hardly have escaped being, had
the oxen remained fighting in the cramped confines of that little
place.
[Illustration: KOREAN STREET. PAGE 18]
[Illustration: HORSES IN AN INN YARD. PAGE 198]
Nothing worthy of note occurred during the remainder of our return
trip, except one night, when camped in the tiniest and most comfortless
little room, we were again wakened by an awful roaring. The sort of
roar that every mother hears with a quaking heart, and knows right well
what it imports. She knows it comes from a wild beast in her child’s
throat, and jumps to the rescue. Croup in a hut with paper doors and
windows full of cracks and holes, where the wind steals in on all
sides, many miles from home, is not too easily defied. But we soon had
a wharrow fire and hot water, a croupy child’s mother always has ipecac
and flannels close at hand, and while we changed hot applications
for an hour or so, we were forced to draw on our benumbed inventive
faculties for novel stories to interest the half-suffocated child. The
following day we were obliged to continue our journey, for exposure and
discomfort there exceeded what must be met on the road, but the child,
usually slow in rallying from those attacks, on this occasion made an
especially quick and favorable recovery.
In April of this year, 1896, Dr. J. McLeavy Brown, of the English
Custom’s Service, was placed in charge of the nation’s finance by a
royal decree, a post which he continued to fill for a long time to the
benefit of all concerned, except the squeezing officials, who, now that
their opportunities in that line were curtailed, proceeded to squeal
lustily instead.
In the summer of 1896, Miss Jacobson, an enthusiastic young missionary
nurse, who had learned the language with wonderful quickness, and won
the hearts of Koreans on all sides, was very ill with dysentery for
several weeks. She recovered apparently and returned to her work, but
was soon attacked by violent fever, which refused to yield to the usual
remedies, until at length the existence of a local organic disease
was developed, which in spite of every effort carried our dear sister
away. But her deathbed was a place of rejoicing rather than mourning.
More than one exclaimed it was good to be there. Bitterly as we knew we
should feel the loss of so helpful and sympathetic a sister later, we
could but enter into her joy at that hour. Her bedroom seemed like the
ante-room to the throne-room itself. Her face was wreathed in smiles,
and a look of unearthly glory lay upon it. Her words were all of joy
and hope, and full of the rapture the realized presence of the Lord
only can give.
We felt we had no right to make place for selfish mourning there, she
was so manifestly happy, and to depart was so far, far better. When
her remains were taken to the cemetery, now becoming rich with much
precious dust, her casket was carried on the shoulders of the native
Christians, who sang joyful songs of the better land all the way. It
was like the return of a conqueror, and the country people, as they saw
and heard, asked what kind of death or funeral was this, all triumph
and joy? Where were the signs and sounds of despair that follow a
heathen corpse?
To carry a dead body is looked upon as very degrading. So the fact that
the native Christians insisted on doing this, and would not allow hired
bearers to touch the dear form, showed how they all loved and honored
Miss Jacobson; and I have told it to show the kind of feeling which
exists between the people and their foreign teachers, as well as to lay
a little tribute to the memory of a noble and devoted fellow-worker.