ut to accumulate merit for himself in the invisible
world beyond the grave. "Gratitude," says this missionary, and it is the
opinion of many, "is a condition of heart, or of mind, which seems to be
incapable of existence in the body of a Chinaman." Yet other
missionaries tell me that no man can possess a livelier sense of
gratitude than a Chinaman, or manifest it with more sincerity. "If our
words are compared to the croaking of the frog, we heed it not, but
freely express the feelings of our heart," are actual words addressed by
a grateful Chinese patient to the first medical missionary in China. And
the Chinaman himself will tell you, says Smith, "that it does not follow
that, because he does not exhibit gratitude he does not feel it. When
the dumb man swallows a tooth he may not say much about it, but it is
all inside."

Since its foundation in 1887, the Inland Mission of Wanhsien has been
conducted with brave perseverance. There are, unfortunately, no
converts, but there are three hopeful "inquirers," whose conversion
would be the more speedy the more likely they were to obtain employment
afterwards. They argue in this way; they say, to quote the words used by
the Rev. G. L. Mason at the Shanghai Missionary Conference of 1890, "if
the foreign teacher will take care of our bodies, we will do him the
favour to seek the salvation of our souls." This question of the
employment of converts is one of the chief difficulties of the
missionary in China. "The idea (derived from Buddhism) is universally
prevalent in China," says the Rev. C. W. Mateer, "that everyone who
enters any sect should live by it.... When a Chinaman becomes a
Christian he expects to live by his Christianity."

One of the three inquirers was shown me; he was described as the most
advanced of the three in knowledge of the doctrine. Now I do not wish to
write unkindly, but I am compelled to say that this man was a poor,
wretched, ragged coolie, who sells the commonest gritty cakes in a
rickety stall round the corner from the mission, who can neither read
nor write, and belongs to a very humble order of blunted intelligence.
The poor fellow is the father of a little girl of three, an only child,
who is both deaf and dumb. And there is the fear that his fondness for
the little one tempts him to give hope to the missionaries that in him
they are to see the first fruit of their toil, the first in the district
to be saved by their teaching, while he nurses a v