This was the first time I came in contact with the cross of Christ, and I was told that it was an “unclean worm.” And now, only a little over ten years after those days, I myself became a Christian. No wonder that the parents and relatives should be frightened at the prospect of their boys becoming the worshipers of that “unclean worm.” Fortunately, by this time the government which had persecuted Christianity for so long was overthrown, and the present Imperial Government came into power, and there was no danger of persecution coming from that quarter. But the families tried in every way to drive out of their boys’ heads what they called “the foolish notion of believing in an unclean religion”; but it was too late. Christianity had already taken such a deep root in our hearts that nothing could uproot it. The fire once kindled by heaven cannot be quenched by any earthly means. Of course there were a few weak ones among the believing boys, who fell away from the ranks of believers because of this persecution. But there remained about forty boys with the firm determination to hold on to their new faith, even unto death.
I distinctly recall it now that it was on a fine Sunday morning, January 30, 1876, the year after our conversion, that these forty Christian boys went up a little hill called Hanaoka, its literal meaning being the “Mount of Flowers,” just outside the city of Kumamoto, where Captain Janes’ school was located. At the top of the “Mount of Flowers” there was a big old pine tree spreading out its branches. This pine tree is still standing there after half a century of the most eventful life of new Japan. Under this grand old tree, at the top of the hill, those forty Christian boys had a service dedicating themselves to God. First they drew up an article of dedication, the main meaning of which, as I remember it now, was as follows: “This day we consecrate ourselves to the service of Christ, and pledge ourselves to preach his Gospel throughout the whole empire of Japan, even though it means death.” After the reading of this article each one signed his name to it. Then they sang several hymns.
We had no Japanese hymns as yet. We knew only the English hymns, which Mrs. Janes had taught us to sing. Among them was that missionary hymn:
“From Greenland’s icy mountains,
From India’s coral strand,
Where Afric’s sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand,
From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver