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The Stirring
*] LITTLE man, five feet high, overbear
ing by nature and disposition, and proud
as fallen Lucifer, he is forty-six years
of age and dwells among the remnant
of Nabobs in the old City of Seoul.
His given name is Sung-choon. He had
two brothers, Hoi-Choon and Kil-choon,
and a father who disgraced himself in
-J ’66. It happened in this way: For-
A
eign barbarians (the French) came thundering
into Kang-hoa Harbor with no end of noise and
cannonading. Yu’s father concluded that Seoul
was not safe and so took his wife, three sons and
two daughters and fled to his country home. The
present emperor’s father, the regent, never forgave
this desertion in the hour of danger, and so the
elder Yu held no office, lost his lands and lived
in great poverty for sixteen years.
But poverty cannot quench the soul, nor touch
the proud family line that runs down from the
days of Sille (A. D.). Their house was blue-blooded
gentility of the old exclusive type, and while Yu
as a boy, dug weeds and gathered brushwood on the
hillside, he was a little king two and a half feet
high, and all the village knew it. He studied Chi
nese at school day in and day out, with no Sun
day or Fourth of July ,or Thanksgiving or Christ
mas, nothing to break the monotony hut just the
necessary interim when he dug weeds or scraped
for firewood.
At twenty-three he was sent to Japan where he
spent eight years, graduated in law, and then came
home, an old-fashioned Korean educated along
Western lines. Meanwhile his brother, Kil-choon,
had been in America, but had returned also. They
lived in North. Seoul among the wooded hills that
border that part of the city, certainly the brightest
family among all the aristocrats.
In 1809, Mr. Yun, governor of the city, in passing
a remark, said to me, “ Kil-choon is the ablest Ko
rean that ever crossed my path,” and Mr. Yun was
also educated in America. They were altogether
opposed to Christianity. It was the cult of the
poor, and but stuff and nonsense to them. Years
ago, an intimate friend wanted to believe, but Yu
soon put a quietus on the inquiries of his soul,
which act brings sad memories today.
Tn the reform period of 1895, Kil-choon became
Minister of Foreign affairs. The emperor hated all
reform and reformers alike, but he was helpless
and life flowed easily until February, 1896, when
his majesty escaped from the palace and Russia
became supreme. The prime minister was hacked
to pieces by the populace in the open street, and
his body left lying near the great hill. Where was
Kil-choon? Will the friends of the emperor kill
him likewise? He was missing, but they took the
older, Hoi-choon, instead, and beat him so that
he dragged himself home and died. Kil-choon es
caped to Japan, and still lives in exile. All of this
Yu looked out upon, but could lend no helping hand.
He himself was under deadly suspicion, though he
had had no hand in polities, and had spent his time
with his books, Japanese and Chinese.
Doom was written all over his native land, and
when friends called he would sometimes break down
and cry over the woes of Korea. This gradually
drew down suspicion upon him, so that at last he
was arrested and locked up in the inner prison. It
was cold and dark and the days dragged by. There
were no books now to read and no friends to talk
to. In the darkest region of the abyss no soul more
wretched than he.
I have a friend, Ye, who has tramped with me
up and down Korea for well nigh twenty years,
kind-hearted, full of sympathy. He knew Yu,
though I did not; knew he was in prison, locked
fast in the inner cell, and that any message would
be grateful; so he wrote on a Chinese New Testa
ment, “To Yu from his friend Ye”; then he stole
quietly into the side gate of the old prison-houise
and bribed the jailor to give the message and the
book. There was no answer; mails do not run from
the inner wards.
The Golden Age for February 7, 1907.
Story of a Personal Worker
By REV. J. S. GALE, D. D.
Two years went by; two years in prison; LCo
years in which Yu, in the agony of his soul, pon
dered over the book, reading it through and through.
At first it was a puzzle, but there was no other
literature, and he kept reading sin, pardon, death
to the self-life, resignation to the Father’s will.
He was over forty, but something in the book soften
ed his soul and made him cry as if he had been a
little lad of six. Here he was cold, starved and
dying, somehow, the book kept on saying,
“There is hope, there is pardon.” This is long
past now, but the memory of it still holds on.
“Oh, how thankful I am that God shut me up
in prison; if he hadn’t, I’d have missed him and
been lost.”
By the grace of God he was saved, and he would
tell all his high-class friends of the good news if
ever set free.
It was not long until he was released, but only
to be sent into exile, away into a humble place in
the country, dotted with obscure villages and little
hamlet folk who believed in Jesus.
Yu heard of them, but he was a Duke and Mar
quis in his way, and they were only cheapest com
moners. On Sunday he put a small New Testament
carefully into his inner pocket where no mortal
man could see it, and with his outward coat care
fully buttoned over, went to church. He loved the
Lord, but out here in the glare and the open he was
a little afraid to show his colors. Here were the
Christians, too, homely and brown and wrinkled
faced. The leader was just an uncouth, raw-boned
countryman, somewhat thick in the tongue and al
together uncultured. Yu was a graduate of law,
Tokyo University, yet he would condescend all pos
sible and worship with them. Had not God told
him to do so? The prison had not dulled his per
ception or power to read his fellowmen. Here was
the group of Christians and there was Yu.
He heard the leader and there was that in his
words and in his prayer that sent a kind of sinking
through his soul.
“What have I been doing, thinking thus of these
people?”
Each carried his New Testament in the open hand.
Yu could use low talk to them, they would not mind,
while, in return, they addressed him as a king, and
were so glad he had come to worship with them.
Yu went home and prayed and said, “Meanest of
cowards I, afraid to carry my book in the open,
and so hid it in my inner pocket. God forgive me.
Use low talk to these people, would I? They are
kings compared with me. Oh, my God, from today
on, not my will, but thine, be done.”
“I am thankful,” says Yu, “That God sent me
into exile; had he not I never would have learned
what a humble Christian is.”
How God has used this little man, since his re
turn a few months ago. He has told thousands of
the truth. His rule is, “Never meet a man without
telling him of Jesus.” Some say that he is crazy,
others that he is possessed; many think that he is
right and want the marvelous something that fills
his soul.
There lives across his ward of the city a tall
man called Yoon, an enemy of the Yu family. Their
accounts used to be settled by means of a knife
with keen blade and short handle. They never
spoke; they were sworn deadly foes, and it is only
a few months since the long man, Yoon, was back
of the long knife that ran through one of Yu’s
best friends. What should he do now that he had
found Jesus? He would go see Yoon.
“Let’s not talk of anything but just Yesu
(Jesus),” replied Yu, “I have come to ask you to
read with me, pray with me, join me in trusting
Him.”
The two-edged sword that pierces to dividing
asunder made its way to Yoon’s heart; he was con
quered. Each Sunday as I line off the faces that
sit before me, I note with joy the long man Yoon,
and the short but victorious Yu, side by side. God
can make men humble in Korea, can put away all
enmity, can fill the heart with love.
But some of Yu’s friends are greatly alarmed.
His sister’s husband called the other day and said,
“Look here, brother, this is madness. Think of
it, your name and standing.”
“Name and standing? What name has any Ko
rean today except a name for ignorance and <good
for-nothingness? It’s not a name brother, it’s God
we want. We have lost Him. Give up your pride
and trust Him and see.” The brother-in-law left,
it was hopeless.
All the Nicodemuses and Josephs of Arimatlsea
gather about Yu’s house at night to hear concerning
the truth. Recently a runner came whispering to
know if the master were at home. He was followed
by Min Hyung-sik (son of Min Young-koon, richest
Korean alive). He, too, had come to learn of the
power that possessed Yu. It was a long and search
ing talk.
“But,” says Min, “I wouldn’t get down and
confess and pray before people. Don’t know how,
it would kill me.” Yet Min has called again and
wants salvation ,if he can only get it without so
much agony.
Thus, the houses of the gentry are opening on
all hands, and Yu, thank God, is prepared for the
hour as Paul for his work, and the time that lay
before him.
May he be greatly used. By his days of poverty
he learned to sympathize with the poor; in prison
he learned of the sorrows of the lost; in exile he
tasted humility. Only five feet high and frail at
that, but a soul filled with God’s love and a burn
ing desire for the hearts of his fellow men, measures
not its stature by feet and inches.
More Korean Soul-Winners.
By B. M. Brown.
“Yu” is by no means the only influential Korean
who has accepted Christ, and is doing ardent per
sonal work. Another notable soul-winner is “Cho,”
whose sister married the brother of the Emperor of
Korea. Since Cho’s conversion he has opened his
house for nightly meetings for Bible study and
prayer, and is using his great influence with telling
effect among the people of his class.
Another great personal worker is “Kim,” for
merely Chief of Police of Seoul. Kim had read the
Bible considerably before he also was arrested, at
the time of the political upheaval in Korea, and*
thrown into jail. While in jail he pondered more
deeply the word and was converted. He is now
assistant secretary of the Y. M. C. A. and Dr.
Gale says possesses a wonderfully winning charac
ter and is a genuine sleuth hound for souls, drawing
them from among the men in highest authority,
as well as from among the school boys whom he may
meet.
Ko was of a very different character from either
of these others, being a gambler, a drunkard, a liar,
a thief, an adulterer and a street brawler. He
tried to kill himself when he found that he was
hopelessly in debt and the missionaries nursed him
back to life. The truth of God gradually dawned
in his heart. He accepted Christ, and has since
that time showed the same beautiful, humble spirit,
and earnest zeal for soul winning as has been shown
by the other men of more fortunate early experi
ence. In the matter of depth of understanding of
the spiritual meaning of the Word he excels.
A Pedigree.
A gentleman, talking to a friend about the an
tiquity of his family, which he carried to Noah, was
told that he was a mere mushroom.
“Ah!” said he. “How so, pray?”
“Why,” replied the other, “when I was in Wales
a pedigree of a particular family was shown to me
It filled about five large skins of parchment, and
near to the middle cf it was a note in the margin,
‘About this time the world was created.’ ”—Lon
don Tit-Bits.
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