Page 48 - incense-bearers of han

Ernest Yin was thrilled at this movement of the Spirit of God, but as he paced the
floor of his home, where I was staying, I knew he was planning another offensive on
another front. Presently he stopped and said, “The governor! The governor! He has
not been faced directly with the Gospel of Christ. I am not in a position to invite him

to these nightly meetings, but we will invite him to a dinner party and give him the
Gospel!” Never an enemy of good victuals, I accepted the challenge. The governor
also accepted the invitation.

Excellently attired in the conventional long satin toga with the short sleeveless
black vest, the swarthy, soldier-scholar appointed as head man of Honan by
Generalissimo Chiang Kai-Shek, presented himself at the home of Commissioner Yin
at the appointed hour.

A scholar of the old school of China and a soldier of the new school, browned with
the suns of campaigns and training periods in the field, Governor Shang Cheng had
attained the rank of General before being assigned to a post of civil administration.

He knew a smattering of English and had had some contacts with western
diplomats in Peking while he had been Governor of the province of Hopei in which
the city of Peking is located.

He was the soul of genial courtesy during the course of the delightful feast that was
provided by our host, as casual conversation was engaged in.

The repast over, we adjourned from the table to “sit widely.” As Governor Shang
sank comfortably into an upholstered chair, I spied a beautiful new copy of the
Scriptures lying on the table (the book of God was always plainly visible in the Yin
home). Lifting it from the table I inquired from His Excellency whether he had ever

read it. He scanned it carefully and said, “Ah! That is the „Sheng Ching‟—The Sacred
Classic, is it not?” And then replied to my question as to whether he had read it, “Not
much,” which is a polite way of saying “never!”

I opened it at random and my eyes fell on the beloved Fifty-third Chapter of Isaiah.
As I pointed with my finger down the columns, his eyes followed the reading of the
characters. The words flowed in the matchless Biblical Mandarin—

Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken,

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