Going into a monastery in China with a clergyman who could converse
in Chinese, we saw among the inmates a woman who seemed to be ever
praying, as she sat a little retired from the rest. The superior told
us that she was praying all the time, being overheard frequently in the
night upon her bed in supplication. He said that there was some great
burden upon her mind, which she would not disclose. She was evidently
not insane; and, from all that I could learn about her, I came to the
conclusion that she was under conviction of sin; sinfulness, rather
than any particular transgression, was the burden upon her heart. That
there are many throughout the heathen world thus exercised, we cannot
question; the second chapter of Romans speaks of them, among others,
“with the work of the law written in their hearts.” They may be few
compared with the whole heathen world; yet how interesting to think
that such may be in a state of mind fitting them to accept the gospel,
should it be made known to them, and that they will not perish merely
for not being acquainted with it. Thus, where sin abounds, grace
may much more abound, choosing its subjects independently of human
instructors. ‘Thou canst not tell whither it goeth,’--this superhuman
agency. This thought is some little relief to one, as he wanders
about in those regions of the shadow of death, impressed by much that
he sees with the reflection how true to the letter is the apostle’s
description, in the first chapter of Romans, of the heathen world.