and encouraging the new
churches, he had enough on his hands for a dozen missionaries.

But now at last the Church at home, in far-away Canada, bestirred
herself to help him. They had been hearing something of the wonderful
mission in Formosa, but they had heard only hints of it, for Mackay
would not confess how he was toiling day and night and how the work
had grown until he was not able to overtake it alone. But the Church
understood something of his need, and they now sent him the best present
they could possibly give,--an assistant. Just three years after Mackay
had landed in Formosa, the Rev. J. B. Fraser, M. D., and his wife and
little ones arrived. He was a young man, too, vigorous and ready for
work. Besides being an ordained minister, he was a physician as well,
just exactly what the north Formosan mission needed.

Along with the missionary, the Church had sent funds for a house for him
and also one for Mackay. So the poor old Chinese house on the bluff was
replaced by a modern, comfortable dwelling, and by its side another was
built for the new missionary and his family. One room of Mackay's house
was used as a study for his students.

After the houses were built and the new doctor was able to use the
language, he began to fill a long-felt want. Mackay had always done a
little medical work, and the foreign doctor of Tamsui had been most kind
in giving his aid, but a doctor of his own, a missionary doctor, was
exactly what Kai Bok-su wanted. Soon the sick began to hear of the
wonders the missionary doctor could perform, and they flocked to him to
be cured.

It must not be supposed that there were not already doctors in north
Formosa. There were many in Tamsui alone, and very indignant they were
at this new barbarian's success. But the native doctors were about the
worst trouble that the people had to bear. Their medical knowledge, like
their religion, was a mixture of ignorance and superstition, and some
of their practises would have been inexcusable except for the fact that
they themselves knew no better. There were two classes of medical men;
those who treated internal diseases and those who professed to cure
external maladies. It was hard to judge which class did the more
mischief, but perhaps the "inside doctors" killed more of their
patients. Dog's flesh was prescribed as a cure for dyspepsia, a chip
taken from a coffin and boiled and the water drunk was a remedy
for catarrh, and an apology made to th