In this instance, it was the heart-cry of Hsi Segno, a Chinaman, that touched His great heart. And so when the Methodist Missionary Society decided to loan David Hill, their missionary, to the China Inland Mission it was no mere coincidence that they had chosen a man with a great burden for the students of China, sending him to Shansi only twelve miles from Hsi’s village.

But more wonderful still, He not only gave this missionary wisdom as to how to reach this hitherto untouchable class, but He moved upon a lone woman in England, distinguished for her power in prayer, to spend her waning energies in battling through on Hill’s behalf. The unfinished letter found on her desk after her death was sent on to David Hill for whom she had been led specially to plead for an extraordinary blessing to be given to him in his work at that time. This intercessor distinctly felt that she had been heard, though she knew not what form the blessing would take. The date of this letter was found to so closely correspond with the conversion of Pastor Hsi that David Hill never doubted but what he had shared in the spoils of her victory.

Hsi Shengmo, a thoughtful child, had been born into a Chinese home of wealth and culture in Western Chang village in the province of Shansi, in the year 1837. As he grew, no one, not even his closest relatives, knew that, underneath his smart gown and bright jacket, lay, buried deep within his childish breast, thoughts of immortality. Only the God he did not know – the Father Whom he had never been taught to love – saw the little silent figure, who, on many a summer’s night, would wander alone beneath the starry heavens, searching their depths for an answer to the problem of existence. “What,” he would question, “is the use of living in this world? Men find no good. And in the end…?”

The years passed by in quick succession. Young Hsi continued to study diligently for that distant degree which would one day place him among the ranks of the learned Confucian scholars. Among his friends, he was a high-spirited lad, very forceful in character and a born leader. But, when alone, there were these same questions, always perplexing and disturbing him; and oh, how he longed for an answer!

When his father, old teacher Hsi, passed away, his estate was divided. Young Hsi purchased a farm on the outskirts of the town. His education now completed, he soon won the esteem of the humble villagers and was asked to mediate in quarrels, law suits and other emergencies. As a result, his reputation for wisdom spread far and wide.

But with Hsi, as with all devotees of the world, happiness and rest of soul were not purchased by such paltry trifles. His first wife passed way, leaving no children, and Confucianism did nothing to still the tumult of his soul. For the idol worship of Buddhism he had no use whatever. His study of Chinese classics, while stimulating the intellectual side of his nature, did not bring peace.

At the age of thirty, he was married the second time to a young girl in her late teens, who became a loving and understanding wife.

But the continued conflict in Hsi’s soul was affecting his health. When friends suggested that an occasional use of the opium pipe could do no harm and might bring relief, he decided to test its merits. Alas, the temporary exhilaration was followed by a deeper depression of spirit than he had suffered before. The drug had begun its dreadful work and Hsi, soon an addict, resorted to its use again and again, until he was only a shadow of his former self. Committed to death by his wife and friends, he was dressed in his best clothing and laid on his bed, awaiting the summons of the Grim Reaper.

To his great relief, his world-weary spirit seemed to be leaving the body. Suddenly it was arrested by the authoritative command, “Go back! Go back!” Sadly the order was obeyed and the sick man found himself again facing the realities of life. After his conversion, Hsi never conceded that what had happened was the fantasy of a distorted mind, but felt rather that it was the voice of God Himself, Whose mercy is “from everlasting to everlasting.”
In the year 1877, a famine of fearful proportions stalked into the province of Shansi. For several years, the heavens had seemed as brass, with no rain and, consequently, no crops. Hunger-crazed people, losing almost all semblance of humanity, even consumed the bodies of their fellows. Three-fourths of the population of that once fertile province perished from hunger, fever or suicide.

In the midst of the unprecedented distress, strange rumors were afloat of two foreigners who had come to a nearby town. They wore Chinese dress, but brought with them a religion of which the people of Shansi never had heard. Hsi shared in the general hostility toward these strangers but, in spite of himself, was conscious of at least a flicker of interest in the new religion.

Then it was learned that the foreigners, Teach Li (David Hill) and Mr. Teh (Turner) were distributing food and money to the starving people. And the next year, with the famine relieved because of copious showers and gifts of seed on the part of the missionaries, brighter days dawned for Shansi.

Then one day there was great excitement in the village of Western Chang. One of Hsi’s elder brothers came rushing into his house, full of enthusiasm. “Old-Four, Old-Four,” he cried, “where are you? Just come and look at this. You are the man for essays. No one better! Here’s your chance; if you are not afraid.”

“What is all this about?” demanded the scholar, reluctantly leaving his pipe to hear the news.

“Only listen,” replied his brother. “Some scholars have returned from examinations at the capital with these papers – some announcement by the foreign teacher.” Wonderingly, the neighbors crowded in to hear the news. Slowly Hsi read the following aloud:

NOTICE: “Wishing to make plain the knowledge of the Heavenly Way, I have determined to profound six theses, and respectfully invite scholars of Shansi to express their sentiments concerning them, and, treating each one separately, to write essays upon them.”
The followed details explaining what the theses were to be about, covering such subjects as prayer, opium, images of the gods, and how to rectify the heart and life. Accompanying this announcement was a packet of Christian books and tracts which the scholar was to study in order to write the essays.

Hsi was in a dilemma. Afraid to become involved in foreign affairs and yet interested in spite of himself, he debated the matter. The prizes promised were of some value and, urged on by his family to prove his prowess once more, he gave in. Under four different names he wrote four essays, often working into the night. His wife even said she had noticed a strange light over the doorway of his room as he wrote. “This shows that the gods approve,” she would say. “Better fortune is ahead for you.”

The essays were at last completed and submitted for examination. In due course the results were announced. Hsi had won three out of the four prizes offered. All that remained was for him to go and collect the money at the missionary’s house; but therein lay the difficulty. It was ten miles across the plain to the city, but it was not the distance that presented the problem. It was his old fear and suspicion of the foreigners that caused the scholar to hesitate. Finally his brother-in-law consented to accompany him. Later Hsi described the meeting.

“As daylight banished darkness, so did Mr. Hill’s presence dissipate all the idle rumors I had heard. All sense of fear was gone; my mind was at rest. I beheld his kindly eye and remembered the words of Mencius: ‘If a man’s heart is not right, his eye will certainly bespeak it.’ That face told me I was in the presence of a true, good man.”

Hsi went back to his village, and David Hill went to his knees. Within a few days, a messenger appeared at Hsi’s home, saying that Teacher Li wished to see the Chinese scholar on important business. When he learned that Mr. Hill desired his help in the study of the Chinese classics, he happily consented.

Though Hsi knew it not, he was approaching the Cross of Calvary, where rest could be found for the sin-sick soul. In the small room assigned to him was a copy of the New Testament. Though at first he picked it up somewhat casually, before he knew it, the little Book began to exert a strange influence upon him. For hours at a time he read and pondered, all the while smoking his opium pipe, such a necessary evil. Strangely enough, the same Book somehow gave him hope of deliverance from the dreadful habit.

One day, as he was reading the story of the crucifixion, the power that for centuries has drawn the “heavy laden,” began to exert its magnetism upon Hsi’s proud heart. He fell on his knees, with the Book before him, weeping as he read. And the dying, yet living Saviour, enfolded his weary soul in His great love. His search was ended; peace like a river became his portion. The slave of sin was now and forever the bond-servant of the Son of God. What had been accomplished was divine, and Hsi knew it.

It was not long, however, before the great enemy of mankind, summoning all the power of his diabolical strength, swept in upon him, creating an almost overpowering desire for opium. For a week, Hsi neither ate nor slept. In the fierce combat between good and evil, for such it was, he experienced almost every agony known to the human body. Weakness, faintness, dizziness, exhaustion, fever, chills, depression – all attacked his enfeebled frame. Mr. Hill gave him the usual medicines, but to no avail.

Prayer “without ceasing” was offered in his behalf. When the struggle was most critical, the addict cried out, “Though I die, I never will touch opium again.” In a fairly quiet interval, he picked up the New Testament, opening it to several verses about the Comforter. Suddenly it was revealed to him that the Holy Spirit could enable him to conquer in the conflict.
Then and there he cast himself upon God, and instantly the calm of Heaven came down upon his pain-wracked body and into his struggling soul. Hsi said later of that blessed Spirit,

“He did what man and medicine could not do. From that moment, my body was perfectly at rest. Then I knew that to break off opium without faith in Jesus would indeed be impossible.”

As the new convert continued to read the Scriptures with enlightened spiritual vision, he saw that they taught that the Holy Spirit was promised as an abiding Indweller. He learned that there was a baptism of the Holy Spirit needed by every believer. His recent experience of deliverance from the opium bondage, ascribed as it had been to the work of the Comforter, only increased his longing for all of the divine fullness that could be his.

Alone in his room one night, as he prayed that he might receive the Holy Ghost, divine light, love and power flooded his soul. “Three times in the night,” was his testimony to the glorious event, “the Holy Spirit descended, filling and overflowing my heart.”

Along with the abundant grace given him, came an intense longing to spread the possibility of such a blessing to men near and far. He became distinctly conscious of the fact that he was commissioned by God to do that very thing. Converted, sanctified and called by the Holy Ghost to preach the Word, Hsi returned to his village, a new man. His wife, brothers and friends sensed the change but, concluding that he had been bewitched by the foreigners, were exceedingly angry. Firmly but kindly, he went about removing and burning the idols set up in his home.

Then he went back to David Hill at Pingyang, where he spent two months of delightful fellowship with his spiritual father. During that period, he wrote two tracts. “How to Obtain Deliverance from Calamity” and “The Ten Commandments of God” were printed and extensively circulated. In later years, he composed some sixty inspired hymns which were widely used by the Chinese Christian churches.

When Teacher Li received a new appointment, leaving the mission station at Pingyang in other hands, Hsi went back to his home to exemplify and proclaim what he had experienced of the miracle-working power of God. He invited his elderly stepmother to live with him. Differences and quarrels with his brothers were publicly righted. To his wife he was most thoughtful and kind and, though for a time, she failed to grasp the truths of the religion her husband had embraced, when the heavenly vision dawned upon her, she was not disobedient.

Then came one of the greatest crisis in his Christian life. Mrs. Hsi, contrary to her natural disposition, gave way to moods of deep depression. She refused to attend to household duties and at times could neither eat nor sleep. At family devotions she became angry, using the vilest of language. It was evident the real trouble was demon possession.
Hsi was disturbed, for the villagers had almost been persuaded to turn from idols to God. Now it seemed that all was to be lost as they taunted and scorned this so-called Demon Conqueror, for that was the name he had selected for himself. Hsi fasted and prayed for three days. Then, weak in body but strong in faith, he laid his hands on his suffering wife and, in the name of Jesus, commanded the devils to leave. At the mention of that Holy Name, they obeyed, and Mrs. Hsi never again was afflicted in that way. She lived and labored, a model helpmeet for her husband who became known far and wide as the Demon Conqueror. This experience strengthened his faith, and, in the ensuing years, many were the occasions when authority in the name of Jesus accomplished like miracles.
He had discontinued the use of opium, but for a short period after he became a Christian, as a financial asset, he raised a field of poppies, from which the drug is made. Then, guided by the Scriptures, “If meat make my brother to offend, I will eat no flesh while the world standeth,” and “Not seeking mine own profit, but the profit of many, that they may be saved,” he gave over the doubtful practice.

David Hill had been impressed that one of the little band he left behind would be raised up to shepherd the flock. The mantle fell on Hsi. This Chinese servant of God early learned that prayer alone could see victory over Satan. His description of the price paid for a life of prayer is a challenge to all.

“On account of many onslaughts of Satan, my wife and I for the space of three years seldom put off our clothing to go to sleep, in order that we might be the more ready to watch and pray. Sometimes in a solitary place, I spent whole nights in prayer: and the Holy Spirit descended. Frequently my mother noticed a light in our bedroom toward midnight, by which she knew that we were still waiting before our Heavenly Father.

We had always endeavoured in our thoughts, words, and actions to be well pleasing to the Lord, but now we realized more than ever our own weakness; that we were indeed nothing; and that only in seeking to do God’s will, whether in working or resting, whether in peace or peril, in abundance or want, everywhere and at all times relying on the Holy Spirit, we might accomplish the work the Lord has appointed us to do. If we had good success we gave all the glory to our Heavenly Father; if bad success, we took all the blame ourselves. This was the attitude of our hearts continually.”

The opium-drugged victims of Shansi now occupied the attention of this servant of God. The wide-spread use of the opiate required earnest and intense effort if the enslaved were to be rescued. His first attempt to do so was in a small town five miles from his home. Since he was short of funds, Mrs. Hsi sold some of her bridal garments and jewelry, always exceedingly precious to a Chinese wife. They rented a shop and stocked it with medicines, of which he had some knowledge. The room behind the store was attractively furnished as a guest hall, with Christian texts on the walls.

For twenty years, the system adopted in this place became a pattern for between forty and fifty others that were opened as Refuges for the unhappy users of opium. In each station, hundreds of persons were treated with pills that eventually Hsi made himself by a secret formula revealed to him by God. Loving care, presentation of Gospel truth and much prayer – all were so mightily blessed of God that thousands of addicts were liberated and in turn carried the news of their freedom to others. Every new patient was expected to attend daily prayer sessions. Indeed only those willing to make prayer a major factor in their treatment were admitted. The pills, which took the place of expensive, imported ones, the supply of which had often failed at a crucial time, were the fruit of a season of fasting and prayer, plus Hsi’s knowledge of native drugs. And he would fast for an entire day when preparing a fresh quantity.

Those who knew Pastor Hsi remarked that his Christian life was a very real and constant warfare with the powers of Satan. It was because Hsi was invading strongly held enemy territory that he excited the animosity of hell. His battle to develop that most effective evangelistic spearhead, the Opium Refuge project, met with opposition and criticism. And there was one time when the accumulation of difficulties seemed insurmountable. Fellow-countrymen found fault, and even whispered that Hsi carried on these homes for personal gain. On his part, furs and silks had been sacrificed for the most economical cotton garments. The lovely satin footwear had been exchanged for cotton ones and personal possessions were sold to finance the projects of the Refuges. No wonder Satan attacked the Pastor as he was often accused of having mercenary motives in his enterprise.
The most trying factor was the opposition of missionaries. We take one glimpse into his brief autobiography:

“Some honoured missionaries exhorted me very earnestly to close the Refuges, saying it was an undertaking fraught with perils. ‘If it were a question of my own wishes,’ I replied, ‘I would not continue a single day. But seeing the Lord has led me into this work, I dare not withdraw. But I will pray over the matter.’

“Thereafter I kept these words spoken by the missionaries in my mind, not venturing to disregard such advice. From that time my strength of heart for work in the Refuges seemed considerably weakened, and the battle was harder to fight.”

So strongly was Hsi urged to give over the work, that in humility and deference to a “senior” brother, he almost yielded. This impression was increased by the problems of a women’s refuge now in the hand of young lady missionaries. He surprised the mission leader, Mr. Hoste, by an unannounced visit at which he declared that he could no longer carry on the Refuge work at Hoh-chau where there had been so many difficulties. Mr. Hoste was surprised, felt there was a mistake being made, but instead of saying so went to prayer.
Hsi himself went before the Lord with a great burden on his heart. He was strangely troubled and broke into an agony of weeping. After midnight, he cried, “Lord, have I grieved Thee? Show me the reason for this distress.” The answer came. He was to help these ladies, who at a great sacrifice, were doing this work. He was to ignore criticism and resist Satan with spiritual weapons.

Mr. Hoste was indeed grateful when the devoted Chinaman said to him, “I have been wrong. The Lord showed me. Instead of giving up the Refuges, I must go over at once and get things on a better footing.”

This man of God literally went in the strength of Another, rather than his own. At times he became conscious of great fatigue and weakness, and these occasions became the call to much prayer and fasting for it was in this way that Hsi could know that some immediate, perplexing problem was to be prayed through. Always when the will of God was ascertained, or the problem resolved, the unusual energy from above was regained and the work resumed. Hsi seems to have been especially endowed with a spiritual sensitivity. His whole soul and body seemed to have become a sounding board or antenna, very open to the slightest impulses of the divine will. Like others who were entirely the Lord’s over a period of years, he developed what might be termed a receiving set for heavenly messages.
Here was a truly apostolic life in the primitive sense of the word. Many a healing was witnessed in answer to prayer and more than one demon-possessed victim was delivered at the command of this self-crucified servant of God.

But there was a price to be paid for divine power. In one instance, Kong, a possessed man, exploded into a state of frenzy during a conference. He quieted as Pastor Hsi entered the room. The latter laid his hands on the young man’s head and prayed, and it seemed certain that permanent deliverance had come.

A new missionary was so impressed that he insisted on giving Hsi fifty dollars to help carry on the great work. Seeing the size of the sum, Hsi became uneasy and went apart to commune, searching his heart as to whether he was allowing a cupidity for money to enter. A call came immediately that the sufferer was worse than ever. As Hsi entered the room, Kong cried out, “You may come, but I fear you no longer! At first you seemed high as Heaven, but now you are low, low down and small. You have no power to control me any more.”

The Pastor felt it to be only too true. Sadly he turned and went out for the silver, followed by the taunting cries of the demoniac. Returning the gift, he confessed that the sudden possession of so large a sum had come between him and God. Hsi then went back, once more in touch with his divine Master. Quietly in the name of Jesus he ordered the tormenting spirit to go. A fearful convulsive cry and Kong was quiet though weak. This was a lasting lesson to Hsi as well as to all the witnesses of the conflict.

Many a soldier of the Cross would have felt entitled to a less strenuous course of action in his latter years. Not so this warrior! For the last five years of the Pastor’s life, he and his wife were given an extra heavy cross which they lovingly and uncomplainingly shouldered for the sake of their divine Master and because of an increased desire to see many more souls delivered from Satan’s kingdom. Together they faced the great sacrifice of laboring apart. It was the supreme test. Pastor Hsi introduces the subject thus:

“For long we desired to open Refuges for women, but had no one to undertake the work. Therefore I have consecrated my wife to the Lord for this service. She first opened a Women’s Refuge at Hungtung, before any lady missionary came to live there. Concerning this matter both my wife and I have endured great suffering and temptation. Often it seems like a sword pressing against my heart, and I have found it almost unbearable. But praise the Lord, the devil has been defeated, and the work goes on.”

Mrs. Hsi, facing the sacrifice, passed into a larger blessing so that the cross was light in comparison. This consecrated little woman traveled usually in one direction and he in another. God blessed the efforts. City after city was reached and a chain of women’s Refuges was established. It is indeed touching to read of a short interval of marital fellowship in a service where he was scheduled to speak, or on the road as their two carts met. These were foretastes of Heaven. But this man and wife were pilgrims and too soon their ways would separate again as the needs of the work made their demands. Pastor Hsi writes most feelingly about it:

“Do I not love my wife? Often she is in the north, and I am in the south; and for several months at a time we are unable to see each other’s faces; and can only mutually weep and pray, seeing those things which are above and the reward promised to every man according as his work shall be. The Bible says: ‘The time is short; and it remaineth that both they that have wives be as though they had none.’ My wife and I, remembering these words of Scripture, are comforted, and our hearts are kept in peace.”

Hsi planned a conference in his own home with the purpose of enlarging the Refuge work. Two hundred persons were present, and the last sermon that he preached was unusually solemn. At the close of the conference, he decided to visit Mr. Hoste, who later was to succeed Hudson Taylor as General Director of the China Inland Mission.

In the midst of genial conversation with his friend, Hsi fell to the ground unconscious. He rallied and, suffering more from weakness than from pain, it seemed, was removed to his own home. When, within weeks, signs of a serious heart problem developed, his own verdict of his condition was, “The Lord is taking away my strength. It must be because my work is done.” For six months God permitted him to remain with those who loved him. Then the Demon Conqueror was victor over the enemy – death – and entered into everlasting rest. His warfare had ceased.