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The Missionary Herald, Volume 88

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Terms of Service
219 – 222

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1 : FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.

o THE WORSHIP OF THE FAIRY FOX.
BY REv. HENRY KINGMAN, OF TIENTSIN, NORTH CHINA.

I THINK we have all of us, whether we are so old as to have forgotten it, or so Young as to remember it very well, passed through a time when we believed in fairies. But as we get older, fairy stories lose their interest for us, and when

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o that our bread and butter and all the other pleasant things of life

– deli o working for them, and not by the kindness of fairies, -or such o ittle creatures as Palmer Cox’s brownies, – then we lose faith in them

You and f and become quite too sober and matter-of-fact. And this is where

Chinaman o Very different from a Chinaman; because, no matter how hard a * to rake and hoe and grub for his daily bread, his faith in the fairies never leaves him. If you see an old Chinese gentleman with large spot. tacles, and a face so grave that it makes you quite chilly even to look at him, y0. would never think that he would kneel down and pray to a fairy that any small

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boy at home could tell him was all moonshine. And yet he will ! and do most o

than this too, if he is one of the common people. I really wish that the Chinese fairies were more like these same brownies that you all know so well — always wearing a smile or a grin and brimming over with goodhumor and helpfulness. But if you were to guess from now till nighttime what sort of fairies they are that nearly all the common people of Tients” believe in and worship, I am sure you would not guess rightly; they are the “Fairy family”: the fox, snake, hedgehog, weasel, and rat. Not the kind with gossamer wings, you see, or in the shape of little men and women—but vess ugly creatures that most of us do not even care to look at. And the people’s belief in them is not at all a make-believe kind of faith, but a worship in downright earnest. You will find shrines for them in many houses. When I was in Mongolia last summer, I was looking at one of these large towers of the Great Wall, like the one in the foregoing picture, only higher, A trying to find out how we could climb up to the top. On one side of it, in the stonework that you see around its base, there was a small hole, just large eno for a man to crawl into on his hands and knees; this ran right into the tower into pitch darkness. We crawled in. There was a little tunnel inside, with a square hole at one end of it leading up to the top of the tower; but the tunnel itself was very dark and dirty, and just the place for a beast’s den — for it was far from any houses, and there are foxes and wolves in Mongolia which would be

glad of such a hiding-place. As we crawled out we noticed pieces of paper pasted on the stone, with characters written on them. What do you think they said? That wretched little hole had been dedicated as a home of the in fox, and these pieces of paper, with sentences of prayer or praise on them, had been brought by worshipers and pasted about the door of this curious temple. Some one had probably seen a fox take refuge there, and jumped to the conclu. sion that it was the real fairy fox and that he must be worshiped. Now can you tell a fairy fox from a common everyday fox? The trouble is just there; it is hard to tell, except when you see him in the very act of chang. ing into a beautiful woman or an old man, or perhaps vanishing entirely; then you know that it was a fairy fox. But although every Chinaman knows and is taught that the fox can make these changes easily, yet very few have really seen him just at the moment when the change was taking place. Ancient philoso: phers say that the fox at the age of fifty can take the form of a woman; at one hundred can become a young girl or a wizard, if he chooses; that at one thousand he is admitted to the heavens, and becomes the “celestial fox.” The com: mon people, though, say that he only has to practise certain occult arts for 600 fairy years — which are only eighty of our years — and then he is immortal and can change his shape as he pleases. A year or two ago, in the city of Tung-cho, a man saw, or pretended to see. a fairy fox take refuge in a hole in the city wall. The news spread quickly, and people began to come from all quarters to offer worship at the hole in the brick work and pray for what they wanted most. As offerings flowed in, a little temple was built against the side of the wall, as you see it in this picture below ; and here hundreds burned their incense and besought the fairy fox to be merciful to them and help them. Some thought that the powerful fairy heard their prayers and sent an answer. These brought strips of cloth, with short sentences of praise or of thanksgiving written on them, and hung them on the wall above the shrine, as you see them there. One of these, which you often see on idol shrines, has the words “Ask and it shall he given “; another calls the fox “Preserver of all life”; and some refer to him as enlightening or saving all men. Indeed he is

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A FOX TEMPLE BY THE CITY WALL AT TUNG-CHO.

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* constantly working miracles of healing or help, so the people believe, and the “orship of many a gorgeous idol in the temple is neglected for that of the god-fox.

If you were to go into his temple, here in Tientsin, you would not see any mage of the fox himself, but only one of a solemn Chinese mandarin, with his wife, – Mrs. Fox, — sitting by his side, and a number of small boys and girls bout them — the little foxes. It is not considered respectful to make a picture ‘r an image of him as an animal, so he appears always as a grave old gentleman, ‘ery unlike the sly, skulking creature that you and I have always thought a fox o be. You could never tell, if you were to go into a Chinese temple, what the dols were meant to represent, whether animals or men or fire or thunder or

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money or long life, or what else. Below is one, for example, of the thunder spirit — the very unamiable-looking old patriarch in the middle is he, with mallel and chisel in his hand and a chubby attendant on either side. There is only room here to say two things more. First, Do you live in New England, pretty near where the Missionary Herald is published? If you do, then I think the fairy fox used to be worshiped, much as the Chinese worship him, by the very people who once lived there before you — that is, the Indians. The Pilgrim fathers could have told you about it very well, and John Eliot, who was the great missionary to our own Massachusetts Indians, saw sc much of this curious belief that he has written about it in his books. And there, if you look

THE THUNDER SPIRIT,

you will find what they believed. But the second thing is the more important one. When you next pray to our Father who is in heaven, and especially who you have any trouble or need to bring to him for help or comfort, remembo” those who at such a time have no better than a fox to tell their troubles “. There are thousands here about me who, when they are in great sorrow, go in al earnestness to beg these five poor animals to help them, not knowing where * to go. Let us remember then, when we pray, to thank our heavenly Father to we know him. Perhaps some day and in some way we may even help those wo are now worshiping the fairy fox to thank him with us.

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MISSIONARY
HERALD

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*T*E. Turkey Mission.— From Miss

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Number 6 SHANSI Mission.— From A/r. Clapp and

Mr. 7% ompson . . . . . . . – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 247 JAPAN Mission. — From Dr. DeForest,

Mr. Albrecht, A/r. A’owland, and Mr.
Clark . . . . . . – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 247

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Special Topic for Prayer. — Departures.

*…………………………. 242 — Arrivals in the United States. – Death. EASTERN Turkey MISSION. — From Mr. &rowne…….. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 243 For the Monthly Concert…… . . . . . . . .257 o Mission.— From Mr. Jones…. 245 Donations ….. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – • 257 o Mission.— From Mr. Peet….. 246 For Young People….. to – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 263 – o, ChiNA Mission. — From Miss The Converted Sikersmith. /3, Rev. C. R. *}”. . . . . . . * * * * * – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 246 Asager, of /song A ong. (Two Illustrations.) s & 2″ natio B O S T ON es. * , to jubii; – – – – – o #ublished by the 3merican goard of Commissioners for foreign śńissions te * n go CONGREGATIONAL House, I SOMERSET STREET 10t * rho. PRESS OF SAMUEL USHER, BOSTON, MASS. avero” *bscript *: ion * $1.00. Address CHARLEs E. S WETT, No. 1 Somerset Street, Boston, Mass.

[*ntered at the Postoffice at Boston, Mass., as second-class matter.]

In Lands Afar: A Second Series of Mission Stories of Many Lands : a Book for …
By Elpathan E. Strong

About this book

Terms of Service
209 – 213

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Under the Shadow of China’s Great Wall.

209

calls together from fifty to one hundred Christians for prayer and worship. The drawing on the last page shows the bell and tower and side of the chapel. There are also built upon this ground three missionary residences and two school buildings.

Out from this Bethel sounds the gospel of salvation in many ways. First in importance is the teaching of Bible truth to the young. We have had a boys’ day-school for more than twenty years. Several from this school have become useful Christians. One is now a preacher and several others are studying for the ministry. And now we have started a boarding school that we may have the

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promising boys under our more immediaie influence and instruction. We shall fit some of them for the college department of our central school at Tung-cho, and such as prove efficient and seem to be called of God to the work will continue through the Theological Seminary. One of the boys in the boarding school at Kalgan is supported by a Christian Endeavor Society in the State of New York. There are more bright, Christian boys waiting to be adopted by other societies. It costs but 125 a year to do this. Who would like to aid in this work?

Outside of these schools we have applications from young men to teach them the Bible in the winter time, inasmuch as in the summer they are too busy on their farms even to listen to preaching. We usually have a class of twenty or thirty of these. Some are Christians and want to work for God, but do not know how. Others are inquirers after truth, and here as elsewhere those who honestly seek for the truth find it. It requires about #5 to help one of these country youths to a winter’s study of the Bible.

And then, for the little bound-footed girls, we have the best school of all. It is a boarding school in a good building on our compound, and Miss Diament gives to them her almost undivided attention. Some of the girls are children of church members, while others are children of heathen parents. All are being loosened from a bondage of error and superstition worse than foot-binding. Many of these come from dark and filthy houses of ignorance and misery and

cruelty. In this bright, cheerful school home they learn godliness and cleanliness and good housekeeping. And then they go back prepared, with God’s help, to renovate, enlighten, and transform these houses of sorrow into happy Christian homes.

To support one of these girls in this school requires about $30 a year. There are now about sixteen of them. Who wants to help more girls out of the darkness into the blessed sunshine of the gospel? For each of these schools and the missionary work they represent, we bespeak your sympathy and your prayers.

Are there not some sons and daughters of the King, who read this account, who will, for Christ’s sake, come to these ends of the earth to help save some of these for whom Christ came from heaven? Are there not others who would like to send a substitute to tell these perishing ones the wonderful words of God’s love? In the schools above spoken of see an opportunity of training and sending forth your missionary to rescue many of China’s millions. And will not each of you hereafter, as you think of China’s Great Wall, also think of, pity, and pray for the great multitudes who live under its shadow?

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BELL AND TOWER OF CHAPEL.

THE WORSHIP OF THE FAIRY FOX.

BY REV. HENRY KINGMAN, OF TUNG-CHO, NORTH CHINA.

I Think we have all of us, whether we are so old as to have forgotten it, or so young as to remember it very well, passed through a time when we believed in fairies. But as we get older, fairy stories lose their interest for us, and when

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A TOWER IN THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA.

we learn that our bread and butter and all the other pleasant things of life come only by working for them, and not by the kindness of fairies, — or such delightful little creatures as Palmer Cox’s brownies, — then we lose faith in them altogether, and become quite too sober and matter-of-fact. And this is where you and I are very different from a Chinaman; because, no matter how hard a Chinaman has to rake and hoe and grub for his daily bread, his faith in the fairies never leaves him. If you see an old Chinese gentleman with large spectacles, and a face so grave that it makes you quite chilly even to look at him, you would never think that he would kneel down and pray to a fairy that any small boy at home could tell him was all moonshine. And yet he will! and do more than this too, if he is one of the common people.

I really wish that the Chinese fairies were more like these same brownies that you all know so well — always wearing a smile or a grin and brimming over with goodhumor and helpfulness. But if you were to guess from now till nighttime what sort of fairies they are that nearly all the common people of Tientsin believe in and worship, I am sure you would not guess rightly; they are the “Fairy family “: the fox, snake, hedgehog, weasel, and rat. Not the kind with gossamer wings, you see, or in the shape of little men and women — but very ugly creatures that most of us do not even care to look at. And the people’s belief in them is not at all a make-believe kind of faith, but a worship in downright earnest. You will find shrines for them in many houses.

When I was in Mongolia last summer, I was looking at one of these large towers of the Great Wall, like the one in the foregoing picture, only higher, and trying to find out how we could climb up to the top. On one side of it, in the stonework that you see around its base, there was a small hole, just large enough for a man to crawl into on his hands and knees; this ran right into the tower, into pitch darkness. We crawled in. There was a little tunnel inside, with a square hole at one end of it leading up to the top of the tower; but the tunnel itself was very dark and dirty, and just the place for a beast’s den — for it was far from any houses, and there are foxes and wolves in Mongolia which would be glad of such a hiding-place. As we crawled out we noticed pieces of paper pasted on the stone, with characters written on them. What do you think they said? That wretched little hole had been dedicated as a home of the fairy fox, and these pieces of paper, with sentences of prayer or praise on them, had been brought by worshipers and pasted about the door of this curious temple. Some one had probably seen a fox take refuge there, and jumped to the conclusion that it was the real fairy fox and that he must be worshiped.

Now can you tell a fairy fox from a common everyday fox? The trouble is just there; it is hard to tell, except when you see him in the very act of changing into a beautiful woman or an old man, or perhaps vanishing entirely; then you know that it was a fairy fox. But although every Chinaman knows and is taught that the fox can make these changes easily, yet very few have really seen him just at the moment when the change was taking place. Ancient philosophers say that the fox at the age of fifty can take the form of a woman; at one hundred can become a young girl or a wizard, if he chooses; that at one thousand he is admitted to the heavens, and becomes the “celestial fox.” The common people, though, say that he only has to practise certain occult arts for 600 fairy years — which are only eighty of our years — and then he is immortal and can change his shape as he pleases.

A year or two ago, in the city of Tung-cho, a man saw, or pretended to see, a fairy fox take refuge in a hole in the city wall. The news spread quickly, and people began to come from all quarters to offer worship at the hole in the brickwork and pray for what they wanted most. As offerings flowed in, a little temple The Worship of the Fairy Fox.

213

was built against the side of the wall, as you see it in this picture below; and here hundreds burned their incense and besought the fairy fox to be merciful to them and help them. Some thought that the powerful fairy heard their prayers and sent an answer. These brought strips of cloth, with short sentences of praise or of thanksgiving written on them, and hung them on the wall above the shrine, as you see them there. One of these, which you often see on idol shrines, has the words ” Ask and it shall he given “; another calls the fox ” Preserver of all life “; and some refer to him as enlightening or saving all men. Indeed he is

[graphic][merged small]
constantly working miracles of healing or help, so the people believe, and the worship of many a gorgeous idol in the temple is neglected for that of the god-fox. If you were to go into his temple, here in Tientsin, you would not see any image of the fox himself, but only one of a solemn Chinese mandarin, with his wife, — Mrs. Fox, — sitting by his side, and a number of small boys and girls about them — the little foxes. It is not considered respectful to make a picture or an image of him as an animal, so he appears always as a grave old gentleman, very unlike the sly, skulking creature that you and I have always thought a fox to be. You could never tell, if you were to go into a Chinese temple, what the idols were meant to represent, whether animals or men or fire or thunder or

money or long life, or what else. Below is one, for example, of the thunderspirit — the very unamiable-looking old patriarch in the middle is he, with mallet and chisel in his hand and a chubby attendant on either side.

There is only room here to say two things more. First, Do you live in New England, pretty near where the Missionary Herald is published? If you do, then I think the fairy fox used to be worshiped, much as the Chinese worship him, by the very people who once lived there before you — that is, the Indians. The Pilgrim fathers could have told you about it very well, and John Eliot, who was the great missionary to our own Massachusetts Indians, saw so much of this curious belief that he has written about itjin his books. And there, if you look,

[graphic][merged small]
you will find what they believed. But the second thing is the more important one. When you next pray to our Father who is in heaven, and especially when you have any trouble or need to bring to him for help or comfort, remember those who at such a time have no better than a fox to tell their troubles to. There are thousands here about me who, when they are in great sorrow, go in all earnestness to beg these five poor animals to help them, not knowing where else to go. Let us remember then, when we pray, to thank our heavenly Father that we know him. Perhaps some day and in some way we may even help those who are now worshiping the fairy fox to thank him with us.

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In that glorious, long-promised day when Christ shall reign in every land and heart, and when even Mongolia shall be the home of a pure and happy people, this name will shine in her annals as a star of the early dawn. In him Scotland has given for the world’s redemption another of her strong, resolute, self-denying sons. James Gilmour was born at Cathkin, near Glasgow, June 12, 1843. He received his early training in a household of Congregationalist Christians, who every Sunday walked five miles to worship with a church of their own order in Glasgow. His father, a joiner and timber merchant, gave to his bright, studious boy every opportunity for thorough education and in due time he was graduated at the University of Glasgow. He had not a shred of indolence in his nature and his superior scholarship secured for him many prizes, but, as he always shrank from speaking about himself, it was not till near the close of his University career that his comrades saw he had been preparing for some great work. When it became known that such a distinguished scholar meant to be a foreign missionary, thus giving bis life for Christ among the heathen, the moral effect was very great. To some it proved an unspeakable blessing.

At his ordination Mr. Gilmour said: “Even on the low ground of common sense I seemed called to be a missionary. Is the kingdom a harvest field? Then I thought it reasonable that I should work where work was most abundant and the workers were fewest. But I go out as a missionary, not that I may follow the dictates of common sense but that I may obey that command of Christ, ‘Go ye into all the world and preach.’ This command seems to me strictly a missionary injunction, so that, apart altogether from choice and other lower reasons, my going forth is a matter of obedience to a plain command; and in place of seeking to assign a reason for going abroad, I would prefer to say that I have failed to discover any reason why I should remain at home.”

It was in February, 1870, when he was twenty-six years of age, that James Gilmour sailed for China, under appointment from the London Missionary Society. A work among the Mongols had been begun in 1817, by two Englishmen, who translated the whole Bible into Mongolian before they were ordered, in 1841, by the Russian emperor, to leave the Buriat province, which was under Russian control. It was to reopen this mission that Mr. Gilmour was sent out. The London Mission at Peking formed the base of operations, but, hardly pausing

there, he set out alone for the north.

Mongolia is a vast, almost unknown territory, the largest dependency of the Chinese empire, stretching nearly 3,ooo miles from the Sea of Japan on the east to Turkestan on the west, and about 9oo miles from the Chinese Wall on the south to Siberia on the north. Its high tablelands are reached through rugged mountain gorges. Central and Western Mongolia are inhabited by a roving people, who drive their flocks and herds over the plains for pasturage in summer and cluster in huts during the •

winter. Eastern Mongolians are agriculturists. The winter is long and cold, the summer heat is often oppressive, and the great central plain is subject to severe storms of wind, dust, and rain.

No country under heaven is more completely in the grasp of its religious system. Buddhism is everywhere; half the men are Buddhist priests, or lamas. “Meet a Mongol on the road and he is probably counting his beads or saying his prayers. Ask him where he is going and he will probably say, ‘To the temple.'” But when a Mongol sends for a lama to read prayers in his tent, the inmates do not listen; if they did, they could not understand, and they talk on much as usual. Of -/ one young lama Mr. Gil- r***^^ mour wrote : “He is about fl as wicked a boy as I know, a thoroughly bad lad.” Priests and people are made stolid, ignorant, and poor by the excessive use of whiskey, opium, and tobacco. Their best land is devoted to these products.

Mr. Gilmour’s first Mongolian journey took a month’s time — from the southern frontier at Kalgan across the great plain, by the camel-cart and ox-cart route, to the Siberian town of Kiachta. Being detained there several months, he suffered great depression from the intense loneliness. He then declared his conviction that two missionaries should always go together. This makes it the more pathetic that in all his twenty years of toil he never really had a colleague. One

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after another was appointed, but from force of circumstances was soon withdrawn.

Gilmour finally plunged into the tent life of a friendly Mongol; thus rapidly acquiring the language and enlarging his knowledge of the people. He lived on indigestible meat, brick tea, and boiled millet, and sat endlessly in tents among lamas, giving up the luxury even of a morning walk for private devotions. •’ For why,” asked the suspicious Mongols, “should a foreigner get out of bed at sunrise and climb a hill for nothing? He must be secretly taking away the luck of the land!” With simple remedies the missionary treated their diseases and secured their confidence until he became known among them as ” Our Gilmour.”

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Still he could not do all they asked, for one wanted to be made clever, another to be cured of hunger, and many men wanted medicine to make their beards grow while almost everybody desired a skin as white as the foreigner’s.

This was the summer life from 187o through 1874, the winters being spent in Peking, whither Mongols resort and where the gospel was as earnestly declared to them as on the plain. In December, 1874, Mr. Gilmour was married to Miss Prankard, the sister of a Peking missionary, who came out from England as his promised wife, though they had never met till her arrival in China. This was nevertheless a most happy marriage.

“You need not be the least shy of me or of my English wife,” wrote Mr. Gilmour to a Scotch friend; “she is a good lassie, any quantity better than me; as much and perhaps more of a Christian and a missionary than I am.”

When the Mongolian trips were resumed, this delicately nurtured lady went also; doing her part in winning the people and facing perils, privations, and daily crosses with cheerful fortitude. They had two tents, one for themselves only, but were obliged to keep open house or be thought haughty. So at meals, devotions, ablutions, there the Mongols were! The Gilmours were rewarded by often hearing their visitors say that while other foreigners were harsh and distant these people were gentle and accessible. But in the shape of converts there were no results. Nobody even wanted to be a Christian until 1885, when one Mongol taught by Mr. Gilmour was baptized at Kalgan. This great joy was soon followed by the great sorrow of Mrs. Gilmour’s death and by the parting with their two boys, who were sent home for education.

Leaving the Mongols of the plain, who were now somewhat benefited by the American Board Mission at Kalgan, Mr. Gilmour went to the farming people of Eastern Mongolia, among whom there are many Chinamen. Here till 1891 he sowed in tears; reaping no harvest among the Mongols but gathering in a few Chinese converts. He found every imposing building in the towns to be either a distillery or a pawnshop, while gambling and opium-eating filled up the measure of poverty, disease, and sin. He adopted the native dress, lived on native food, and often took his bowl of porridge in the street, on a stool, by the boiler of an itinerant restaurant keeper. His average expense for food was threepence a day.

He set up his tent in marketplaces, dispensing medicines, selling Christian books, and teaching the truth as it is in Jesus to any who would hear. He lived under great spiritual tension as well as in utter solitude of heart. No man more needed the comfort of fellowship, but he did not allow the failure of all efforts to secure him a colleague to hinder the work. On one tour he wrote of himself and his Chinese servant: “The ten days we passed there we were the song of the drunkard and the jest of the abject, but the peace of God passes all understanding, and that kept my heart and mind. We put a calm front on; put out our stand daily, and carried ourselves as if nothing had happened. The great thought in my mind these days, and the great object of my life is to be like Christ. … I feel called to go through all this sort of thing and feel perfectly secure in God’s hands. One thing I am sure of. The thousands here need salvation. God is most anxious to give it to them; where, then, is the hindrance? In them? I hardly think so. In God? No. In me, then! The thing I am praying away at now is that he would remove that hindrance by whatever process is necessary. I dare not tell you how much I pray.” Again, “I am distressed at so few conversions here, but sometimes very fully satisfied in believing I am trying to do his will. That makes me calm. … Brother, let us be faithful; that is what God wants, what he can use.” . . .

A few years of this strain brought down the strength of the lonely worker, and in 1889 he was obliged to take his second voyage home. The first had been in 1882, after twelve years’ service. Eight months in England now restored him wonderfully. His worn look disappeared, his smile was bright, and his form regained much of its former life and spring. Returned to Mongolia, he modified his vegetarian regimen, and rested more on Sundays, taking only the services with Christians and inquirers, and not setting up his tent in the streets on that day. Moreover a young and likeminded colleague reached him in December,

189o, and all promised well for future service. Being called to Tientsin in April,

1891, he wrote home: “I am in Ai health, everybody says so here, and that

Modesty with Blaise

I suspect part of the real reason why the modesty trend has caught on (though not in all communities around the world) isn’t just because of religious influence but because they’re that fed up with objectification (I think even a pop star would realise this once she matures/changes). As for the religious influence, keep in mind the Abrahamic religions tend to regard female immodesty and nudity with utter abhorrence and disgust that female nudity in their minds are inevitably linked to malevolence, decadence and witchcraft.

Whatever the belief/ideology, they arrive at the same conclusion. If you’re constantly bombarded with nude or scantily clad female images that it’s going to necessitate some counter-reaction to this. It can be rooted in feminism but also in conservative religion. Comes to think of it, there has to be a reason why female modesty became so heavily treasured in those if because it gets tiring seeing all those naked women around. (I swear, nudity in art only happened more often after paganism due to secularism.)

Whatever the ideology, the demand for female modesty’s going to happen as a much needed relief.

 

Hans Jörgel von Gumpoldskirchen (Google Books)

„Damenkleider- Schuh- und Hüte-Kunſt verfertiger.“
woraus hervorgeht, daß der Mann ein Kunſtverfertiger is, d. h. daß er die Kunſt verfertigt. Uebrigens muß er eine Rieſenkraft
haben, denn es heißt weiter:
„Mieder- und Gradeträger-Erzeuger aus Stahleiſen“
Der Mann ſagt alſo ſelbſt, daß er ein
Erzenger aus Stahleiſen is. Eigenes Lob ſtinkt zwar, aber Einer, der die ganze Kunſt verfertigt, muß ſchon aus härteren Stoff ſein. Um aber wieder auf die freundlichen
Kellner zu kommen. Im Bahnhof zu Iſchl begehrt ein Kaufmann aus Wien, der in der dortigen Reſtauration wenige Tage früher mit ſeiner Familie ein großes Diner
g’habt hat, von dem Kellner eine Flaſchen Waſſer für die Frau und die Kinder. Und was antwortet der feine Kellner?
„Wenn’s nix z’eſſen wöllen, kriagn’s
koan Waſſer a nöt.“ Der Beleidigte beklagt ſich über dieſe Rohheit beim Wirth und dieſer gibt dem Kellner – eine Watſchen? – o nein! –
er gibt ihm Recht. In Fiſchamend is eine alte Jungfer, die ein alten Mops hat, beſagter alter Mops is ein ſehr biſſiger alter Herr, zerreißt den
Kindern die Kleider und beißt ſie in die Wadeln. Im ſelben Haus is aber auch ein Schuſtermeiſter, der eine Henn’ hat, ein
geſtelltes, tapfres Vieh, das den biſſigen Mopſel mit ſcharfen Schnabelhieben bei jeder Gelegenheit verjagt. Da is nun die
alte Jungfer wie eine Wüthende zum Haus herrn geſtürzt und hat den Schuſter und
ſeine Henn’ verklagt. Sie hat verlangt, daß der Schuſter die Henne nicht mehr frei im Haus herumlaufen laßt, und daß der Henn’ – ein Beißkorb angelegt wird, ſonſt klagt ſie in der Gemeinde-Kanzlei. „Muß mein Hund ein Maulkorb tragen,“ hat ſie geſchrien, „ſo ſeh ich nicht ein, warum ‘n Schuſter ſeine Henn keinen tragen ſoll.“ –
Ganz einverſtanden! Und wenn das ſo mit Conſequenz durchgeführt würde, daß z. B. auch die Gänſe ein Maulkorb anlegen müßten, was für ruhige, glückliche, friedliche Tage ſtünden da der Menſchheit bevor. In Prerau kommen zwei Arbeiter in
die dortige Lotterie, am Tage vor der Zie hung, um drei Nummern Terno ſeco zu ſetzen mit 20 kr. Einſatz. –
Der Lotteriſt erklärt ihnen aber, er kann ihren Einſatz nicht mehr annehmen,
weil er – man höre und ſtaune! – keine
Risconto mehr hat, alſo alle Risconto waren ihm aus’gangen, – gänzlicher Man gel an Papier. Hätt’ der Collectant nicht die drei Nummern in ſein Buch eintragen und den Arbeitern eine proviſoriſche Beſtätigung über den eingelöſten Satz geben können? Das Glück oder vielmehr das Unglück hat wollen, daß den andern Tag alle drei
Nummern kommen ſein. Die armen Teufeln
verlieren mithin jeder 480 fl. was für ſie ein Vermögen geweſen wär. Man fragt an, ob ſie nicht klagen können?
Allerdings, aber ausrichten werden ſie nichts, da der Einſatz ja doch nicht ge leiſtet wurde. Ich bedaure ſie vom Herzen.
– 11 –
Ich druck ſonſt nicht gern was aus
andern Blättern ab, am Wenigſten Gedichte. Dasmal muß ich aber eine Ausnahm machen
und ein Gedicht aus der Komotauer
Zeitung bringen, das ſo hübſch is, daß es
in weiteren Kreiſen bekanntzuwerden verdient.
Es betitelt ſich:

“Women’s clothing shoes and hats art.”
from which it can be seen that the man is an artisan, d. H. that he makes the art. By the way, he must have a huge power
have, because it says further:
“Cement and Gradient Producer of Steal Iron”
The man says so himself that he is one
Erzenger aus Stahleisen is. Although praise stinks, but someone who makes the whole art must be made of harder stuff. But again on the friendly
Waiter to come. In the railway station in Ischl, a merchant from Vienna, who in the local restaurant a few days earlier with his family a large dinner
g’habt, from the waiter a bottle of water for the wife and children. And what does the fine waiter answer?
“If it does not matter, kriagn’s
koan water a necessary. “The offended complains of this rudeness at the inn and this gives the waiter – a waddling? – Oh no! –
he gives him right. In Fischamend is an old maid who has an old pug, said old pug is a very snappy old gentleman, tear that
Children clothes and bites them in the calves. In the same house is also a cobbler master who has a henna
put, brave cattle, which chases the snappy mop with sharp bats at every opportunity. There it is
old maid like a raging woman rushed to the house and got the cobbler and
his Henn ‘sued. She has demanded that the shoemaker no longer let the hen roam free in the house, and that the Henn ‘- a bite basket is put on, otherwise she complains in the community chancellery. “If my dog ​​must wear a muzzle,” she cried, “I do not see why a cobbler should not wear his hen.” –
Very much in agreement! And if so carried out with consequence that z. If, for example, the geese had to muzzle, what kind of peaceful, happy, peaceful days would be there for humanity. In Prerau two workers come in
the local lottery, the day before the move, to place three numbers Terno seco with 20 kr. Use. –
The Lotterist tells them he can no longer accept their assignment
because he – hear and be amazed! – none
Risconto has more, so all the Risconto had gone out to him – all manure on paper. Could not the Collectant have entered the three numbers in his book and give the workers a provisional confirmation of the redeemed rate? The luck or rather the misfortune wants the other day all three
Numbers are coming. The poor devils
Everybody loses 480 fl. which would have been a fortune for them. One asks if they can not complain?
However, they will do nothing, however, since the mission was not done. I regret it from the heart.
– 11 –
I do not like to print something else
other sheets, least of all poems. But this time I have to make an exception
and a poem from the Komotauer
Bring newspaper that is so pretty that it
earned in wider circles deserves.
It is titled:

A cure for anything

I still suspected that part of the real reason why The Cure’s more popular than Bauhaus might have something to do with being either better able or more willing to take advantage of its popularity. Even if The Cure isn’t that popular anymore, the fact that it lasted for this long suggests that they bothered to seize taking advantage of it more. The latter makes much more sense really.

It also helps that it makes them some of the more mainstream Goth bands in the world. Not necessarily any more wholesome or brighter. But in the sense of being much more opportunistic and possibly more willing to compromise than Bauhaus ever was. Not that Bauhaus didn’t compromise and take advantage of its popularity, just not to the same extent the Cure did.

But that’s realising that you need to be this informed in business to know which brands are likelier to take off and go mainstream (Hot Topic and Fairy Gothmother to an extent) and which remain niche. It wouldn’t matter if Robert Smith doesn’t like being called Goth, what matters is that he and his mates were more willing to capitalise on their popularity. Much more willing that Bauhaus did.

(Love and Rockets, being Bauhaus’s offspring, nearly came close to The Cure’s degree of mainstream popularity and influence as well as longevity.)

So it comes down to which brand’s willing to take advantage of its popularity but to the point of having to sell out and that’s also the same difference between Green Day and Deathcharge to a similar extent.

Liebe und Racketen

I think I remember a thread on an old forum where when it came to the band Bauhaus and its spin-off (or arguably the very thing Bauhaus could’ve evolved into) Love and Rockets is that the latter’s better known. Not necessarily any more mainstream but one with considerably more popularity and influence outside of niche subcultures.

The most mainstream Gothic bands proper would be The Cure and Siouxsie and the Banshees to some extent though Depeche Mode and Sisters of Mercy come close. That sort of makes sense since either Bauhaus was kind of premature or that The Cure and those other bands (save for the likes of the March Violets) were better able to take advantage of the height of their popularity.

Again not always exactly nor consistently, even universally the case but makes sense why The Cure got too popular for its own good even if it’s arguably a better representative of Goth music proper to the mainstream.

Choirs–The underground equivalent of boy bands and girl groups

Considering there are a lot of underground rock scenes, I suspect there could be the underground equivalent to manufactured boy bands and girl groups. That’s right there with choirs, be it secular (folk) or religious (church choirs) as well as busking music groups. It could be that I had relatives who were in choirs so there’s that.

It can be argued that since there are solo church and busking performances (if I’m not mistaken), they’re equivalent to pop star performances. Maybe not exactly and consistently but when pop stars do take time to record Christmas folk songs and other folk songs in general (this is more of a thing some Filipino, American and European singers do) so there’s going to be a crossover.

Underground in the sense that whilst they don’t write their own songs and play instruments, they’re not that commercial either. From my personal experience with choirs, they do have DVDs but they’re generally that un-commercial. If you look hard enough with choirs and the like, they’re practically the genesis of and underground equivalents to pop stars really.