“I have traveled in mule litters, on donkeys, and on foot over a large part of the province of Shantung, preaching from village to village, on the streets, and by the wayside. Over the nearer portions I have gone again and again. My preaching tours would aggregate from twelve thousand to fifteen thousand miles, including from eight thousand to twelve thousand addresses to the heathen.”—AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, 1897.
The first thing which Mateer set himself to do, after he arrived at Tengchow, was to acquire the language of the people. The difficulties which the Chinese tongue presents to the foreigner are too well known to need recital here, nor was it easier to Mateer than to other persons possessed of good ability and thorough education. In January, 1902, at the request of Secretary Speer, he prepared for the use of the Board of Missions a paper on the subject of “Missionaries and the Language.” In it he does not profess to be telling his own experience, and yet it is largely an exhibit of what he had himself done. In the introductory paragraph he says:
One of the tasks, and to many one of the trials, of missionary life, is the learning of a new, and often a difficult language. So far as the message of the gospel is concerned, the tongue is tied until the language is learned. I set it down as a first principle, that every missionary should go out with a distinct and fixed determination to learn the language and to learn it well. Let there be no shrinking from it, no half measures with it. Laxity of this purpose in this matter is unworthy of anyone who is called to be a missionary. When I hear a young missionary, after a few weeks or months on the field, saying, “I hate this language; who can learn such outlandish gibberish as this?” my opinion of his fitness for the work at once suffers a heavy discount. Every young missionary should consider it his or her special business to fall in love with the language as quickly as possible.
Then he proceeds to lay down certain general principles and thoroughly to elaborate them; insisting that everyone can learn the tongue of a people, not merely well enough to make some sort of stagger at the use of it, but thoroughly; and giving directions as to the best method of accomplishing this result. At the same time he recognizes the fact that by no means all missionaries are able to acquire the language so perfectly that they are competent to contribute to the permanent Christian literature of the country.
In his case there were exceptional difficulties as to this preliminary work. Printed helps were few and not very good. Competent native teachers were almost impossible to obtain at Tengchow, and were liable at any time to abandon their work. Besides, so long as the Mateers were hampered by their narrow quarters, along with other missionaries, in the old temple, and while he was compelled to give almost the whole of his strength to the repairs and construction of buildings, for him to accomplish what he otherwise might have done in this line was impossible. Under date of December 24, 1864, almost a year after his arrival at Tengchow, he wrote in his Journal:
I have been studying pretty regularly this week, yet to look back over it, I cannot see that I have accomplished much. Learning Chinese is slow work. I do not wonder that the Chinese have never made great advances in learning. It is such a herculean task to get the language that a man’s best energies are gone by the time he has himself prepared to work. It is as if a mechanic should spend half his life, or more, in getting his tools ready. Before I came to China I feared that I would have trouble acquiring the language, and I find my fears were well grounded.
This confession is very notable, coming as it does from the pen of him who subsequently, as one of his associates said after his death, “became not only the prince of Mandarin speakers among foreigners in China, but also so grasped the principles of the language as to enable him in future years to issue the most thoroughgoing and complete work on the language, the most generally used text-book for all students of the spoken tongue”; and it may be added, who was selected by the missionaries of all China, in conference, to be chairman of the committee to revise the Mandarin version of the Scriptures, and who in all that work was easily the chief. The diligence with which he improved every spare moment in the study of the language is shown by a letter of Mrs. Julia Mateer, in which she writes of reading aloud to her husband in the evening while he practiced writing Chinese characters.
Really he was making better progress than probably he himself imagined. On January 14, 1865, he began to go regularly into the school, to teach the children a phonetic method of writing the Chinese characters. He records that on February 7 he took charge of the morning prayers, and adds:
It seemed very strange indeed to me to pray in Chinese, and no less awkward than strange. I found, however, less embarrassment in doing it than I at first supposed. I might easily have begun some time ago, but our school-teacher performs the duty very acceptably, and so I left the matter to him until I was fully prepared. I trust that it will not be long till I will be at home in using Chinese.
Tengchow is the seat of one of the competitive literary examinations for students, and at the season when these are held thousands of candidates present themselves. Under date of March 11, of that year, he says:
A goodly number of the scholars have come to see me, to get books and to hear “the doctrine.” I have had opportunity to do considerable preaching, which I have not failed to embrace. Some of them understood me quite well. I find a great difference between talking to them and to the illiterate people. They understand me a great deal better. Most of them listen with attention, and some of them with evident interest. They all treated me with respect. I gave them books; they promising to read them, and to come again at the next examination.
These occasions continued to offer like opportunity in succeeding years, and he took all the advantage of it that he could. Only rarely did students give him any cause for annoyance. On May 22 he went to a fair that was held just outside one of the gates, and tried his hand at preaching to that miscellaneous audience in the open air. In the forenoon he talked himself tired, and returned in the afternoon to repeat the effort, but with what effect he could not tell. Rain came on and he had to stop. He added in his Journal, “Oh, how I wish that I could use Chinese as I can English,—then I could preach with some comfort!” On Sabbath, June 19, he preached his first sermon before the little Chinese church organized at Tengchow. The notice he had was short, Mills having been taken ill, and sending him word that he must fill the pulpit. He says: “I could not prepare a sermon, and translate it carefully and accurately. I had just to get ready some phrases, and statements of the main points, and depend on my Chinese for the rest. I got on better than I expected I should, though to me at least it seemed poor enough.” We need not follow the process of his acquisition of the language any further, except to say that he never ceased to study it, and to seek to improve in it, although he came by and by to be able to use it, in both speaking and writing, so well that the Chinese often took more pleasure in hearing and reading his productions than if he had been a native.
As the senior missionary, Mills had charge of the church organized at Tengchow, and any preaching that Mateer did in it was occasional. It was not long before a movement was organized for evangelistic work on the streets, and he gladly took part in that method of work. He was anxious also to obtain a room which he could use as a chapel. His first efforts to secure such a building were rendered futile on account of the intense opposition of the people, and the disinclination, or worse, of the officials to enforce his legal rights in this matter, under the treaty. It was not until the middle of April, 1867, that he succeeded in opening a room where he and his Chinese assistant could have a regular place for preaching and selling books. It stood on a principal street, and was, therefore, as to location, well suited for the work to which it was set apart. The opening of it was the occasion for the gathering of a crowd of rowdies who threw stones at the doors, and otherwise created disturbance; but prompt arrest of the ringleader and the haling of him before a magistrate brought the rowdyism to a close. Of course, the school afforded another local opportunity for evangelization, and it was from the very first effectually employed.
Tengchow itself was not very responsive to the gospel. The demand for books was soon satisfied to such an extent that sales became small. The novelty of street preaching and of the chapel services gradually was exhausted. The little church did not attract many on the Sabbath, except the regular attendants. True, a city of so many inhabitants might seem—notwithstanding such limitations as existed—a sufficient field for all the labor that could be put upon it by the little band of missionaries located there. But beyond the walls was all the rest of the province of Shantung, with none to evangelize it save the missionaries at Chefoo and Tengchow. That province is in area about one-third larger than the State of Pennsylvania; and it now has somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty millions of inhabitants, mostly scattered in innumerable villages, though frequently also concentrated in cities. The climate is about that of Kentucky, and the productions of the soil are not very different. Part of the surface of the country is hilly and some of it rises into mountains of moderate height; but most of it is level or slightly rolling. Writing to one of the secretaries of the Board, under date of May 10, 1869, Mateer thus expressed himself as to the strategic importance of Shantung in the tremendous enterprise of evangelizing China:
I think it is almost universally admitted that Tsinan fu [the capital, situated about three hundred miles southwest of Tengchow] offers the most promising field for missionary effort in China. The region in which this city lies is the religious center of China. Here both the great sages of China, Confucius and Mencius, were born. At Tai An, a short way to the south, the great religious festival of China is held, and there are unmistakable evidences that there is a religious element in the people of this province found nowhere else in China. I feel like saying with all my might, Let the Presbyterian Church strike for this province. It has given both religion and government to China in the ages that are past, and it is going to give Christianity to China in the future.
These pioneer missionaries in Shantung as promptly as possible sought, first by itineration, and later by opening new stations, to carry the gospel far and wide over the province. In this they labored under one serious inconvenience from which their brethren in much of south China are exempt. Down there it is easy to travel extensively on the rivers and the numerous canals. In Shantung the one great river is the Hoang, or Yellow, running from the west toward the east; and the one important canal is the Grand, running north and south; and both of these are so far remote from Chefoo and Tengchow that in the itineration of the missionaries from these places they were of little use. As a consequence they had to adopt the other methods of travel customary in that region. Even to-day, though a railway runs from the coast at Kiaochou, across Shantung to Tsinan fu, and another across the west end of the province and passing through Tsinan fu is almost completed, much of the territory is no more accessible than half a century ago. The traveler can hire a mule, or more probably a donkey, and—throwing his bedding across the packsaddle—make his way, with the owner of the animal running along as driver, to the place where, if he proceeds farther, he must hire a second mule or donkey; and so on to the end of his journey. One can also travel by wheelbarrow. These conveyances are considered to be quite genteel, and are much patronized by Chinese women. The wheels are big and clumsy, and, being innocent of oil, creak fearfully, and as the wheelbarrows are without springs the passenger is jolted excruciatingly. They are propelled by a man pushing by the handles, and often with the aid of another, and sometimes a donkey in front, and it may be with a sail to catch the wind. In the hilly regions the shentza, or mule litter, is common. In describing this conveyance Mateer said in one of his Sunday-school letters:
The motion is various and peculiar. Sometimes the mules step together, and sometimes they don’t. Now you have a plunging motion like the shaking of a pepper box, then comes a waving motion like the shaking of a sieve; and then a rolling motion like the rocking of a cradle, and then by turns these various motions mix up and modify each other in endless variety. I have often thought that if a man had a stiff joint, one of these shentzas would be a good thing to shake it loose. You are completely at the mercy of these two mules. If you are sitting up you think that you would be more comfortable lying down, and if you are lying down you think that you would be more comfortable sitting up. There is no relief from incessant shaking but to get out and walk.
The most genteel mode of travel is a two-wheeled cart, provided always that the track called a road is wide and level enough to permit it to be used. I fall back on the Sunday-school letter for a description of it:
A Chinese cart is heavy and clumsy to the last degree. It has no springs, no seat, no cushions, and is only wide enough for one to sit in it. The only way to keep your arms and head from being broken by the top, is to wedge yourself in with quilts and pillows. Passenger carts are usually drawn by two mules, one in the shafts and the other directly in front, hitched by two long ropes to the axle—one passing on each side of the shaft mule. The driver either walks, or rides on the back part of the shafts.... I took one ride in one of these big carts, which I shall remember while I live. We had all gone to a country station, one hundred and twenty miles from Tengchow, to a meeting of Presbytery. After Presbytery we wished to go on to another station forty miles distant. There had been a great rain, and the ground was soft, and we could get no conveyance. At length we got a big cart to carry our luggage and Dr. Mills and myself. For it they rigged up a top made of sticks and pieces of matting. The team consisted of a mule, a horse, and two oxen, with two drivers. Mrs. Mateer had a donkey to ride, and Mrs. Capp had a sedan chair. Dr. Mills and myself took turns in walking with the native elder and assistant. When we got all our effects, bedding, cooking utensils and so forth, in the cart there was only room for one to sit, and the other had to lie down. The first day we dragged through the soft earth fifteen miles, but in order to do it we had to travel an hour after night. It was pitch dark and we had no lantern. We came very near losing our way, and finally had no small trouble in reaching an inn, and when we did reach it what a fuss there was before we got stowed in and got our suppers! We obtained a small room for the ladies, but Dr. Mills and I did not fare so well. We had to sleep on the ground in a sort of shed which had no doors. The next day we got an early start, and found the roads a little better, and managed to make the other twenty-five miles. During the day we crossed a sandy river which was swollen by the rains, and there was some danger that we might stick fast in the sand. The native assistant crowded into the cart. The elder put one foot on the end of the axle, which in a Chinese cart projects several inches beyond the hub, and supported himself by holding on to the side of the cart. The second driver perched himself in the same way on the other end of the axle. The chief driver stood erect on the shafts, astride of the shaft mule. He flourished his whip with one hand and gesticulated with the other, and both drivers hurrahed at the top of their voices. The team got excited, and with heads and tails erect,—with a splash and a dash,—we went safely through.
There is one other mode of travel, and perhaps then still the most common of all, even with missionaries when itinerating, and that is to walk. When the traveler on foot comes to a river if he has long patience he may be ferried across; but if the stream is not very deep he may have to wade. Mateer, however, had a good strong physique and simple tastes, and was entirely free from any disposition to fret over small annoyances. In those earlier itinerating days he cheerfully took his full share in roughing it with other missionaries out in the province. He repeatedly took trips when all the provision he made for eating was a spoon and a saltcellar; the food he ate was such as he got at the inns and from place to place. His experiences in this line of evangelistic efforts had an important influence on his work in the school and the college. Certainly it was a great help toward that remarkable acquaintance with colloquial Chinese which is shown in his literary labors.
His first trip to the country was made on October 14, 1864, and therefore before he had learned the language sufficiently to enable him to do much missionary work. In reality it was just a visit by the entire foreign force stationed by both the Baptists and Presbyterians at Tengchow out to a Chinese Christian residing ten miles away. In a measure, however, it was a typical journey. The roads were execrably bad, and Mateer and another missionary had one mule between them, so that each walked half the way. On August 22 of the ensuing year he, and Corbett,—who had come up for the purpose,—started on a genuine itinerating tour. It was in one particular an unfavorable time. A Chinese inn at any season is apt to be uncomfortable enough to a person who has been accustomed to the conveniences and comforts of western civilization. In the Sunday-school letter already quoted Mateer said:
The inns in China are various in size, but similar in style. You enter through a wide doorway which is in fact the middle of a long, low house fronting on the street. On the one side of this door, or passageway, is the kitchen, which is usually furnished with one or two kettles, a large water jar, and a few dishes, with a meat-chopper and chopping block. Usually there is a little room partitioned off at the far end, which serves for office and storeroom. On the other side is a wide, raised platform about two feet high, made of mud brick. It answers for the muleteers and humbler guests, to sleep on. Inside of this front building is a court or yard with a long shed at one or both sides, and troughs for feeding mules and donkeys. At the further end of this court, and sometimes at one side, are rooms for guests. These rooms contain no furniture but a table and a bench or two, and sometimes a chair, with a rough board bedstead, or a raised brick platform to take the place of a bedstead. No towel, soap, or other toilet necessaries are furnished. They usually have one washbasin, which is passed round, and is used besides for washing the sore backs of mules, and for such other necessary uses. There are no stoves or other means of warming the rooms. Sometimes they build a fire of straw under those brick bedsteads, which invariably fills the room with smoke. Or, you can order a pan of charcoal, which will fill the room with gas. The houses are all one story and have no ceiling. The rafters are smoked as black as ink, and are always festooned with cobwebs. The rooms never have wooden floors. In the more stylish inns the floors are paved with brick, but in ordinary inns the floors are simply the ground. In the summer fleas and mosquitoes are superabundant, and they attack all comers without respect of persons. Every night there is in the courtyard a musical concert which continues at intervals till morning, and is free to all the guests. The tune is carried by the mules and donkeys, and the scolding and swearing of the muleteers make up the accompaniment. Voices of great excellence are often heard in America, but for real pathos and soul-stirring effect there is nothing like a dozen or two Chinese donkeys, when they strike in together and vie with each other for the preëminence. No common table is set, but meals are prepared to order and served to guests in their rooms. They are generally charged for by the dish.
Unfortunately Mateer and Corbett had selected for their first itineration a time of year when the mosquitoes and fleas and other vermin are at their worst, and they suffered accordingly.
They were gone just four weeks; and during that period they traveled two hundred and twenty-five miles. Much of the time it rained. At Laichow fu for this cause they were detained a week; and they had to lodge in a room whose roof leaked so badly that they had to protect themselves with oilcloths and umbrellas. The water was three feet deep on the floor. One day they crossed twenty-two streams, none of them large, and yet often of such a character as to render passage very troublesome. For a while they had a shentza borne by a couple of crowbait mules, one of which was blind and had the trick of suddenly lying down for a rest, and occasionally fell flat into a mudhole, or tumbled its rider over a steep bank. They met with a variety of treatment from the people, but mostly it was not unfavorable to the prosecution of their work. Foreigners were still a curiosity in the region, and that often attracted a crowd to see them, and to ascertain by hearing and by reading what might be the nature of the Christian doctrine. Once it became necessary for Mateer to use force to repel a man who persistently tried to seize a book. Each of the missionaries preached about forty times, and at all sorts of places. Their largest evident success was in disposing of books; these for the most part by sale, the total of pages distributed amounting to two hundred and seventy-seven thousand. The details of the tour are given in Mateer’s Journal. If preserved, they will one day be of extreme interest to the Christians of China, as records of the very beginnings of the teaching of the gospel in Shantung.
Again, the next spring Mateer and Corbett, accompanied by Chinese assistants, went on another tour of preaching and of book-selling. Mateer left Tengchow on April 5, and reached home on May 19. They started with twenty-eight boxes of books, each weighing about seventy pounds; and, because they had exhausted the supply, they had to turn back before reaching the place to which they had originally intended to go. One of the noteworthy things in their itinerary is that it brought them for the first time to Wei Hsien, now one of the largest of the Presbyterian mission stations in north China, and the site of the College of Arts of the Shantung University; and to Tsingchow fu, the site of the Theological College. In both towns the Presbyterians and the Baptists are united. All that Mateer said in his Journal concerning Wei Hsien is:
We did not go through the city, except the suburbs. The streets were full of people, and they were not sparing in their expressions of enmity and contempt. We saw a great number of elegant memorial arches near Wei Hsien and learned that it is a very wealthy place. This was indicated by the many elegant burying grounds around it, and by the good condition of the walls. The country all around, and indeed most we passed through to-day, was very rich. A man on the road who appeared to know told us that one individual, the richest in the city, was worth three million taels [then more than as many million dollars].
Tsingchow fu receives from him a much more extended notice. He speaks of the city—although very much smaller than evidently it once had been—as still large and filled with business. The surrounding country wins from him great admiration. Indeed, at several places he was much attracted by the prospect which spread itself out before his eyes; and some of it reminded him even of the natural scenery of his “Old Home” in Pennsylvania. Of course, it must not be supposed that all the region they traversed was the equal of this; much of it was far less attractive in almost every particular.
On this journey they had a great variety of experiences, some of them far enough from pleasant. Nearly everywhere they went, curiosity attracted crowds of adults and of children. This seems to have been especially true in the neighborhood of Wei Hsien and Tsingchow fu. At the inns where they stopped, privacy was almost impossible; the people peering in at the windows and bolting into the room they occupied. Sometimes they were compelled to expel the intruders with a dash of water or with an uplifted cane. Harder to bear were the opprobrious epithets applied to them. Mateer said:
Every village I come to, the term, “devil!” “devil!” comes ringing in my ears. Not that they always called it at me, but to one another, to come and see. Frequently, however, it was called out most spitefully, for me to hear. I think that within the last two days I have heard it from at least ten thousand mouths. It is strange how such a term could have gotten such universal currency. It expresses not so much hatred to the gospel as it does the national enmity of the Chinese to foreigners.
Happily at the present time foreigners are seldom saluted by this epithet. At Chang Tsau they had two serious disturbances. The first was caused by some sort of soothsayer, in whom the people had much confidence. While Mateer was surrounded by a crowd of men to whom he was selling books, in rushed this man, brandishing an ugly looking spear; and, using the Chinese expression of rage, “Ah! Ah! I’ll kill you!” he drove the spear straight at Mateer’s breast. In those early days of his missionary work Mateer carried a revolver for self-defense when going to places where he might be attacked, believing that he had a moral right to protect himself from assault by evil-minded persons. On this occasion the revolver was drawn instantly. As the man came closer Mateer seized the spear, and warned the intruder of the consequences if he advanced a step farther. The risk was too great for the courage of the soothsayer, and he went away crestfallen, but cursing the missionary, threatening to return and kill him, and launching his anathemas against anybody who bought the books. After the disturbance the people were not so eager to buy, and an official tried to induce Mateer to cease his efforts, but, partly to show the futility of such interruptions, he continued, until at length weariness compelled him to stop.
The other incident occurred in connection with the selling of books at a market. A man took advantage of a moment when the missionary was receiving pay from a purchaser, and snatched away a book, but Mateer seized and held him until the book was restored. This led to an altercation between the Chinese assistant and the thief, and blows were struck. The disturbance began to spread, and several of the crowd seemed disposed to lay hands on Mateer, when a significant reference to the revolver brought the movement to a prompt termination. In order to show the people that the missionaries were doing only what is lawful under the treaty, and that they would not put up with insult or wrong, they sought satisfaction through the official having jurisdiction, and warned him that the case would be brought to the notice of the American consul at Chefoo.
There is no record of any itineration again until the latter part of February, 1869. That trip was not long in duration or very extensive in its territory. Julia and her sister Maggie accompanied Dr. Mateer and were able to reach large numbers of women with the gospel. July 21 of the same year he and Julia went on a tour of twelve weeks, their main objective being Chow Yuen, where Miao, a zealous young convert, was opening a chapel. The story as to him can most appropriately be told in another chapter.
On November 10 of the same year Dr. Mateer and Julia began a journey which lasted twenty-four days, during which they traveled about two hundred and fifty miles, some of the road being very hilly and rough, and the weather cold. Their course was directed to certain localities where there were converts, and where a beginning had been made by these native Christians to give the gospel to their neighbors. One of these places was Laichow fu, at which two of these had been spreading the light around them, one of them having given a commodious chapel, with a guest room attached, in which the Mateers lodged. During a stay of three days they preached to large numbers; and especially on the last day all opposition was swept away, and men and women came in crowds. In a village in the district of Ping Tu they conducted service in a little chapel on the Sabbath. In a letter to one of the secretaries of the Board he said:
The chapel was so crowded that we were barely able to have any regular service for the benefit of the native Christians. We had finally to postpone our principal service till after night. I baptized five, the four who had previously been accepted, and one other who, though not very well instructed, was so earnest in his profession of faith that we did not feel that it would be right to refuse him. After this the Lord’s Supper was administered. The circumstances made it one of the most interesting services of the kind I have ever been privileged to conduct. At the farthest point at which the gospel has yet got a foothold, in a house set apart by a native Christian for the worship of the true God, the majority of the company having never before participated in such a service, the circumstances were altogether such as to make the occasion one long to be remembered.
On February 13, 1873, he and Crossett began a tour that lasted about three months and carried them far into the interior of Shantung. They traveled in all about a thousand miles, and preached and sold books in over a hundred cities and towns. Once a man threatened Mateer with a manure fork, and once he was struck by a stone thrown in a crowd by some unknown miscreant. The usual epithet for foreigners saluted them; but, on the whole, they escaped any serious molestation. On this trip they visited Tai An, the great temple, and the sacred mountain, and ascended the steps to its summit. For a week they remained preaching in the temple to the crowds. They also went to the tomb of Confucius, and to the magnificent temple dedicated to the sage, in that neighborhood. At that date not many foreigners had seen these Chinese shrines; but now they have been so often described that it would scarcely be justifiable to cite the full and interesting record made by Mateer in his Journal as to what he saw and did at these places. Thence they proceeded as far as the capital, Tsinan fu, where Mateer remained for eighteen days, while Crossett went on a journey still a couple of hundred miles farther to the north and west, in company with an agent of the Scottish Bible Society, which had been canvassing the province for six or eight years. At the close of this tour they regarded the work of book-selling for most of Shantung as so far completed as henceforth to deserve a more subordinate place. During part of his stay at the capital Mateer preached and sold books, and part of the time he remained in his hired lodgings to receive visitors, of whom he had not a few. To him one of the interesting sights was the Yellow River. On their return journey they took in Tsingchow fu, and also Ping Tu, where the Christians then were terrified by persecution.
After this he made only one more exclusively evangelistic itineration. The care of the infant churches and other duties called him to continue to go longer and shorter distances from home; and in connection with this he did a great deal of preaching here and there by the way. For instance, in 1881 he attended a meeting of the Mission at Tsinan fu, and incidentally he preached in a hundred and sixty-three villages. It was travel for the specific purpose of carrying the gospel into wholly unevangelized regions that he ceased to perform. In a friendly letter written to his cousin, Mrs. Gilchrist, as early as June 28, 1875, he said:
The first years I was in China I traveled a good deal, and preached and sold books in the streets. I have not done so much of it the last two or three years, having been more closely engaged in my school. The younger men in the mission have been doing it chiefly. I am preparing a number of books for the press, and this has taken a good deal of time, and will take time in the future.
That final evangelistic itineration was made in 1878, and lasted from the middle of October to the middle of November. It was out toward the general region of Ping Tu and Laichow fu. The party consisted of Mateer and Mills, Mrs. Mateer and Mrs. Shaw, and a couple of Chinese assistants. Mrs. Mateer and Mrs. Shaw visited the native Christians while the men went to districts where there were no churches. In a letter to the Board Mateer said:
We each hired a donkey to carry our bedding and books, while we walked from village to village, and preached in the streets. I preached in this way in one hundred and ninety villages, and Mr. Mills in about as many. We went aside from the great roads into villages never before visited by any foreign missionary. We had audiences of from eight or ten, up to two or three hundred. In many cases we had a goodly proportion of women as hearers. Our reception was very various, for which in most cases we have no means of accounting. In some cases many came out to see and hear us. In other cases no one seemed inclined to pay any attention to us, and a considerable time would elapse before we would succeed in drawing a company to preach to. In one village I failed entirely to get anyone to listen. A goodly number saw us, but they passed by without stopping. One boy ventured to ask where we came from, when instantly a man near by at work reproved him for speaking to us. My assistant and I sat and waited about half an hour, and then went on to the next village. We carried a few books in our hands as a sort of advertisement of our business, and to give to such as would accept them. Sometimes the books were readily accepted, and we could have given away any number; but frequently not a soul would accept a book. No doubt some would have liked very well to have a book, but they were ashamed to accept it from the hated foreigner in the presence of so many of their neighbors and acquaintances. Only in two or three cases was any open hostility shown us, and in these it was confined to two or three individuals who failed to carry the crowd with them, so that in spite of their attempts to scatter our audience we still had plenty of hearers.
Then as to the value of this kind of missionary effort he added an estimate from which he never deviated, and which in substance he continued to repeat:
This method of work is very excellent, and at the same time very laborious. It reaches obscure places, and a class of people—those who stay at home—not otherwise reached. To be successful it must be pursued at a time of year when the people are somewhat at leisure.