ELDER YANG AND FAMILY
Ten years had passed, the refugees were still in Japan, but Eastern vengeance does not tire or sleep, least of all forget. A man named Hong, probably employed by the government, went to Japan, ingratiated himself with Kim Ok Kiun, decoyed him to Shanghai, and there murdered him, and on April the 12th, 1894, a Chinese gunboat brought the assassin and his victim’s remains to Chemulpo. Arrived in Korea, the body of the murdered man was divided and sent through the eight provinces. Two of the other refugees had gone to America, and one Pak Yung Ho remained in Japan. All three are to be heard from again. While we all shuddered at and deplored this revolting deed, a stain upon any government, it must be remembered that the man was a political criminal of the blackest dye, and that while any nation would under similar circumstances, if possible, have executed him as a traitor and assassin, the Korean government was that of unenlightened Eastern people who have not learned that revenge has no place in just punishment.
CHAPTER VIII
Mr. McKenzie—The First Church Built by Natives—Mr. McKenzie’s Sickness—His Death—Warning to New Missionaries—The Tonghaks—Mr. Underwood’s Trip to Sorai in Summer—Native Churches—Our Use of Helpers—Christians in Seoul Build their Own Church—Epidemic of Cholera—Unhygienic Practices—Unsanitary Condition of City.
In the meanwhile, in the fall of 1894, Mr. McKenzie, who had arrived from Canada in the winter of 1893, and, as we have said, had gone to Dr. Hall’s relief, after his return decided to go to the interior, the better to learn the language and people, and to live there as much as possible in every way like a native. Mr. Underwood advised him to go to the village of Sorai, or Song Chun, then under his care, where he had baptized almost the first converts ever received in the Korean church. Here he found a few Christians who received him as a brother. He made his home with one of them, and at once began to preach Christ by example. Long before the people understood his broken Korean they read his beautiful life, and little by little a change came over the whole community. We all thought of him often in his loneliness in that far-off hamlet, where, though he was a great light to the people, there was no real companionship for him. At Christmas we sent him a box of home-made bread, plumb-cake, canned fruits and vegetables, tea and milk and sugar, for we knew he had no foreign food and that he was living solely on Korean diet, but we did not know that it consisted of rice chiefly, with a chicken once a week, and occasionally a few eggs.
When our box reached him, he handed the contents all over to the Koreans. He wrote that he dared not taste them, knowing that if he did it would be impossible to go back to native food. Meanwhile one and another of the villagers and people in the vicinity were giving up their old heathen idols and turning to Christ.
Some years before the Christians of that village had asked Mr. Underwood to give them a church, but, like the young man who came to Jesus, they went away sorrowful, when told they must build it themselves. Now, however, they again took up the idea in a different spirit. Near the village was a rising piece of ground on which stood a little grove, in midst of which had been for many years the shrine where the village deities were worshiped. This had long been neglected and destroyed, and here it was decided to build the new church. Every one gave as the Lord had prospered him, gladly, enthusiastically, and a heathen master builder undertook to direct the erection of the building on half pay, because it was for the great “chief God of heaven,” as he understood. Very likely he knew little enough of the one only God for whose service it was raised, but not very long after he learned both to know and love him.
The little meeting house was not a very imposing or lofty structure. It could boast nothing of the magnificence of our American churches, no doubt it would blush to be called a church at all in such a stately company, so I will call it a chapel, and even then it was an humble and unpretentious one, but it was the best building in the place. The poor people put into it their best wood, stones and tiles, the loving labor of their own hands, with fervent prayer. When it was finished no debt hung over it, and God, who does not see as man sees, blessed and honored it by filling it to overflowing with simple-minded, sincere, earnest people, who came with hearts ready to receive with meekness his word.
