Calvin Wilson Mateer, forty-five years a missionary in Shantung, China

by D. W. Fisher

Allow me to say that at the present time in China I regard schools and the training of teachers and preachers as the chief thing,—much more important than the founding of new stations, with expensive buildings, in order to cover new territory. This is not a passing thought, but is said advisedly. The time for training these teachers and preachers is limited; before many years the native church will declare her independence, when all will depend on the intelligence and soundness of her leaders.

Again taking a view that includes the church, but that is so broad as to sweep over the entire national situation, he said:

“China is fascinated by the power, skill, and knowledge of the west. She covets these things, and clamors impatiently for them, but they do not come at her call. She has caught up the idea that education will solve the problem and speedily lift her into the family of nations. She issues edicts to annul the old and inaugurate the new. She commands the opening of schools in every county, not realizing that without teachers, or methods, or money efficient schools are impossible. True to her character, she is deceiving herself with a sham; a mere pretense of knowledge. The old is passing faster than the new is coming, and there are ominous signs of danger ahead. There are already a good many competent Christian teachers in China, and very few others; but Chinese conservatism hates and fears Christianity, and will not employ Christian teachers if it can possibly be avoided. China has still one great and fundamental lesson to learn, namely: that Christianity is not her enemy, but her friend; that faithful and honest men are not made by simply teaching them geometry and chemistry. She will presently learn, however, that Christianity holds the only patent there is for the construction of high moral character. She resents the idea now, but sooner or later she will be compelled to admit it. In the meantime she needs men to teach her, and to show her the way. Never perhaps in the world’s history was the saying of Christ more conspicuously exemplified: “The harvest truly is plenteous, but the laborers are few.”

Ever since he set foot on the soil of that country he had kept on pleading for reinforcements in his work,—now a physician, then a teacher, again a man capable of overseeing mechanical operations, and always more ordained missionaries. He entertained very common-sense notions as to the sort of reinforcements that are desirable. He says in an old letter directed to theological students in the seminary where he was trained: “I might add more especially that missionaries should not be men of one idea, unless perchance that idea be a zeal for saving souls. The men needed are those who have well-balanced, practical minds.... The man of vivacious temperament, pleasing address, ready wit, and ready utterance, other things being equal, will make the best missionary.” The language he did not regard as at all beyond the acquisition of any person with fair ability and faithful application, though he recognized more than a moderate measure of these as essential to the writing of books. As the new China loomed up before him, his cry for help became, if possible, more earnest; it came from the very depths of his soul, and with an intensity which words could not adequately express.

Before proceeding to relate the story of his death, can I do better than to give the last of these appeals of which we have the records? The letter from which I quote is dated Wei Hsien, September 1, 1907, just a year before his Master called him home. He said:

Tell the young men of America for me, that China now presents to the church the greatest opportunity of the ages. God has opened the door,—opened it wide. Three hundred and fifty millions of people are ready to hear the gospel message. This door has not been opened without great strife and effort. In the face of steady and persistent opposition, and through much suffering and bloodshed, a large and lasting impression has been already made. The dark and discouraging days are over and the future is bright with promise. As I look back over the first twenty-five years of my missionary life, it seems like a troubled dream. The last fifteen years have wrought wonders in China. Old customs and prejudices are giving way. The bright dawn of better things is upon us. The most conservative and immovable people in the world, persistently wedded to the old ways, are getting used to new things, and are ready to accept whatever promises profit and prosperity. All ears are open, and the preaching of the gospel is nowhere opposed or resisted. I often wish I were young again, just ready to start in on the bright opening campaign. In a large sense the future of the church and of the world lies wrapped up in this great people. Why in the providence of God the gospel of salvation has not long ere this reached this oldest and greatest nation is an unexplained mystery. These unconverted millions of the Mongolian race will presently come into their inheritance of truth and grace, and then who shall say what they will become, and do? Their fecundity, their physical stamina, their patient persistence and intellectual vigor, are factors that will count in the world’s future history.... As I look at the situation in the light of the past, and forecasting the probabilities of the future, a more inviting field for the exercise of consecrated talent has rarely, if ever, presented itself in the history of civilization. Very few people in the church in the west understand and appreciate the present condition of things in China. The political forces and problems are better understood than the moral and religious. It is still true that “the children of the world are wiser in their generation than the children of light.” The faith of the long, old centuries is passing rapidly away, but what shall the new faith be? This is the great Christian question of the hour. The young men of China are mad to learn English, because there is money in it. With English come books and newspapers, sowing the seeds of agnosticism, and skepticism, and rationalism, and so forth. The cry is, Who will champion the truth? Who will administer the antidote? Who will uphold the cross? Who will testify for Christ? The call is urgent. Satan is in the field. The opportunity is passing. The time is strategic. The changes of many years are now crowded into one. Young men, it is time to be up and doing! The march of events will not wait on your tardiness. Who will hear the Master’s trumpet call?

XVI
CALLED UP HIGHER

“I have given my life to China: I expect to live there, to die there, and to be buried there.”—FROM HIS FAREWELL ADDRESS IN THE CENTRAL PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, Allegheny, Pa., 1862.