{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_31525/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_31525","id":"gutenberg_31525","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/31525","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: History - Modern (1750+)","Category: History - Religious","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Gilmour, James, 1843-1891","Missions -- Mongolia"],"text":"Transcriber's Note:\n\nMinor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without\nnote. Some illustrations have been slightly relocated for better flow.\nIn some of the Chinese or Mongolian names, the character 'u' with a\nbreve appears frequently. This appears in the text as [)u].\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nJAMES GILMOUR OF MONGOLIA\n\nHIS DIARIES LETTERS AND REPORTS\n\n\nEDITED AND ARRANGED BY\nRICHARD LOVETT, M.A.\nAUTHOR OF 'NORWEGIAN PICTURES' ETC\n\nWITH A PORTRAIT, TWO MAPS AND\nFIVE ILLUSTRATIONS\n\nTHIRD AND CHEAPER EDITION\n\nLONDON\nTHE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY\n56 Paternoster Row, 65 St Paul's Churchyard\n1895\n\n\n O Christ, in Thee my soul hath found,\n And found in Thee alone,\n The peace, the joy I sought so long,\n The bliss till now unknown.\n\n I sighed for rest and happiness,\n I yearned for them, not Thee;\n But while I passed my Saviour by,\n His love laid hold on me.\n\n Now none but Christ can satisfy,\n None other name for me;\n There's love, and life, and lasting joy,\n Lord Jesus, found in Thee.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThis book in its more expensive forms has been before the public for\nnearly two years. It has been very widely read, and it has received\nextraordinary attention from many sections of the press. The author has\nreceived from all parts of the world most striking testimonies as to the\nway in which this record of James Gilmour's heroic self-sacrifice for\nthe Lord Jesus and on behalf of his beloved Mongols for the Master's\nsake has touched the hearts of Christian workers. It has deepened their\nfaith, strengthened their zeal, nerved them for whole-hearted\nconsecration to the same Master, and cheered many a solitary and lonely\nheart.\n\nMany requests have been received for an edition at a price which will\nplace the book within the reach of Sunday School teachers, of those\nChristian workers who have but little to spend upon books, and of the\nelder scholars in our schools. The Committee of the Religious Tract\nSociety have gladly met this request at the earliest possible moment.\n\nIn this new form their hope and prayer is that James Gilmour, being\ndead, may yet speak to many hearts, arousing them to diligent, and\nfaithful, and self-denying service for Jesus Christ.\n\nThe book, in this its newest form, is identical in all respects with the\nfirst and second editions, except that only one portrait is given and\nthe appendices are left out.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n CHAPTER PAGE\n\n I. EARLY YEARS AND EDUCATION 15\n\n II. BEGINNING WORK 46\n\n III. MONGOLIAN APPRENTICESHIP 55\n\n IV. THE FIRST CAMPAIGN IN MONGOLIA 88\n\n V. MARRIAGE 98\n\n VI. 'IN JOURNEYINGS OFTEN, IN PERILS OF RIVERS' 105\n\n VII. THE VISIT TO ENGLAND IN 1882 134\n\n VIII. SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 154\n\n IX. A CHANGE OF FIELD 176\n\n X. PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS AS ILLUSTRATED BY\n LETTERS TO RELATIVES AND FRIENDS 228\n\n XI. CLOSING LABOURS 256\n\n XII. THE LAST DAYS 298\n\n\n LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n PORTRAIT OF JAMES GILMOUR FROM A PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN\n AT TIENTSIN ON APRIL 1891 _Frontispiece_\n\n A MONGOL ENCAMPMENT 109\n\n A MONGOL CAMEL CART 139\n\n A CHINESE MULE LITTER 156\n\n JAMES GILMOUR EQUIPPED FOR HIS WALKING EXPEDITION\n IN MONGOLIA IN FEBRUARY 1884 159\n\n JAMES GILMOUR'S TENT 245\n\n\n MAPS\n\n 1. MAP ILLUSTRATING JAMES GILMOUR'S JOURNEYS ON THE\n GREAT PLAIN OF MONGOLIA 54\n\n 2. MAP ILLUSTRATING JAMES GILMOUR'S LABOURS IN EASTERN\n MONGOLIA 179\n\n For readers of _James Gilmour of Mongolia_ not familiar with _Among\n the Mongols_, a new Edition of that Work has been prepared and\n published, price Two Shillings and Sixpence.\n\n\n\n\nJAMES GILMOUR OF MONGOLIA\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nEARLY YEARS AND EDUCATION\n\n\nJames Gilmour, of Mongolia, the son of James Gilmour and Elizabeth\nPettigrew his wife, was born at Cathkin on Monday, June 12, 1843. He was\nthe third in a family of six sons, all but one of whom grew up to\nmanhood. His father was in very comfortable circumstances, and\nconsequently James Gilmour never had the struggle with poverty through\nwhich so many of his great countrymen have had to pass. Cathkin, an\nestate of half a dozen farms in the parish of Carmunnock, is only five\nmiles from Glasgow, and was owned by Humphrey Ewing Maclae, a retired\nIndia merchant, who resided in the substantial mansion-house on the\nestate. There were also the houses of a few residents, and a smithy and\nwright's workshops, for the convenience of the surrounding district.\nJames Gilmour's father was the occupant of the wright's shop, as his\nfather had been before him.\n\nHis brother John, one of three who have survived him, has furnished the\nfollowing interesting sketch of the family life in which James Gilmour\nwas trained, and to which he owed so much of the charm and power which\nhe manifested in later years:--\n\n'Our grandfather, Matthew Gilmour, combined the trades of mason and\nwright, working himself at both as occasion required; and our father,\nJames Gilmour, continued the combination in his time in a modified\ndegree, gradually discarding the mason trade and developing the\nwright's. Grandmother (father's mother) was a woman of authority, skill,\nand practical usefulness among the little community in which she\nresided. In cases requiring medical treatment, she was always in\nrequest; and in order to obtain the lymph pure for the vaccination of\nchildren she would take it herself direct from the cow. She was also a\nneat and skilful needlewoman.\n\n'Matthew Gilmour and his wife were people of strict integrity and\nChristian living. They walked regularly every Sunday the five miles to\nthe Congregational Church in Glasgow, though there were several places\nof worship within two miles of their residence. I have often heard the\nold residents of the steep and rough country road they used to take for\na short cut when nearing home tell how impressed they have been by the\nsight of the worthy couple and their family wending their way along in\nthe dark winter Sabbath evenings by the light of a hand-lantern. Our\nparents continued the connection with the same body of worshippers in\nGlasgow as long as they resided in Cathkin, being members of Dr. Ralph\nWardlaw's church. It was under his earnest eloquence, and by his wise\npastoral care, we were trained.\n\n'The distance of our home from the place of worship did not admit of our\nattending as children any other than the regular Sabbath services; but\nwe were not neglected in this respect at home, so far as it lay in our\nparents' ability to help us. We regularly gathered around our mother's\nknee, reading the impressive little stories found in such illustrated\nbooklets as the _Teacher's Offering_, the _Child's Companion_, the\n_Children's Missionary Record_ (Church of Scotland), the _Tract\nMagazine_, and Watts' _Divine Songs for Children_. These readings were\nalways accompanied with touching serious comments on them by mother,\nwhich tended very considerably to impress the lessons contained in them\non our young hearts. I remember how she used to add: \"Wouldn't it be\nfine if some of you, when you grow up, should be able to write such nice\nlittle stories as these for children, and do some good in the world in\nthat way!\" I have always had an idea that James' love of contributing\nshort articles from China and Mongolia to the children's missionary\nmagazines at home was due to these early impressions instilled into his\nmind by his mother. Father, too, on Sabbath evenings, generally placed\nthe \"big\" Bible (Scott and Henry's) on the table, and read aloud the\ncomments therein upon some portion of Scripture for our edification and\nentertainment. During the winter week-nights some part of the evening\nwas often spent in reading aloud popular books then current, such as\n_Uncle Tom's Cabin_.\n\n'Family worship, morning and evening, was also a most regular and sacred\nobservance in our house, and consisted of first, asking a blessing;\nsecond, singing twelve lines of a psalm or paraphrase, or a hymn from\nWardlaw's Hymn-book; third, reading a chapter from the Old Testament in\nthe mornings, and from the New in the evenings; and fourth, prayer. The\nchapters read were taken day by day in succession, and at the evening\nworship we read two verses each all round. This proved rather a trying\nordeal for some of the apprentices, one or more of whom we usually had\nboarding with us, or to a new servant-girl, as their education in many\ncases had not been of too liberal a description. But they soon got more\nproficient, and if it led them to nothing higher, it was a good\neducational help. These devotional exercises were not common in the\ndistrict in the mornings, and were apt to be broken in upon by callers\nat the wright's shop; but that was never entertained as an excuse for\ncurtailing them. I suppose people in the district got to know of the\ncustom, and avoided making their calls at a time when they would have to\nwait some little while for attention. Our parents, however, never\nallowed this practice or their religious inclinations to obtrude on\ntheir neighbours; all was done most unassumingly and humbly, as a matter\nof everyday course.\n\n'Our maternal grandfather, John Pettigrew by name, was a farmer and\nmeal-miller on the estate of Cathkin, and was considered a man of\nsterling worth and integrity. Having had occasion to send his minister,\nthe parson of Carmunnock parish, some bags of oatmeal from his mill, the\nminister suspected from some cause or other that he had got short weight\nor measure. The worthy miller was rather nettled at being thus impeached\nby his spiritual overseer, and that same night proceeded to the manse\nwith the necessary articles required for determining the accuracy of the\nminister's suspicions. When this was done, it was found there remained\nsomething to the good, instead of a deficiency; this the miller swung\nover his shoulder in a bag and took back with him to the mill, as a\nlesson to the crestfallen divine to be more careful in future about\nchallenging the integrity of his humble parishioner's transactions.\n\n'While James was quite a child the family removed to Glasgow, where our\nfather entered into partnership with his brother Alexander as timber\nmerchants. During this stay in Glasgow mother's health proved very\nunsatisfactory, and latterly both she and father having been prostrated\nand brought to death's door by a malignant fever, it was decided to\nrelinquish the partnership and return to their former place in the\ncountry. James was five years old at that time. When he was between\nseven and eight he was sent with his older brothers to the new\nSubscription School in Bushyhill, Cambuslang, a distance of two miles.\nHere he remained till he was about twelve, when he and I were sent to\nGorbals Youths' School in Greenside Street, Glasgow. We had thus five\nmiles to go morning and evening, but we had season-tickets for the\nrailway part of the distance, viz. between Rutherglen and Glasgow.\nThomas Neil was master of this school. We were in the private room,\nrather a privileged place, compared with the rest of the school, seeing\nwe received the personal attentions of Mr. Neil, and were almost free\nfrom corporal punishment, which was not by any means the case in the\npublic rooms of the school--Mr. Neil being, I was going to say, a\n_terror to evildoers_, but he was in fact a terror to all kinds of\ndoers, from the excitability of his temper and general sternness.\n\n'Here James usually kept the first or second place in the class, which\nwas a large one; and if he happened to be turned to the bottom (an event\nwhich occurred pretty often to all the members of the class with Mr.\nNeil), he would determinedly endeavour to stifle a tearful little \"cry,\"\nthus demonstrating the state of his feelings at being so abased. But he\nnever remained long at the bottom; like a cork sunk in water, he would\nrise at the first opportunity to his natural level at the top of the\nclass. It was because of his diligence and success in his classes while\nat this school, I suppose, more than from any definite idea of what\ncareer he might follow in the future, that after leaving he was allowed\nto prosecute his studies at the Glasgow High School, where he gained\nmany prizes, and fully justified his parents' decision of allowing him\nto go on with his studies instead of taking him away to a trade. At home\nhe prosecuted his studies very untiringly both during session and\nvacation.\n\n'After entering the classes of the Glasgow University he studied in an\nattic room, the window of which overlooked an extensive and beautiful\nstretch of the Vale of Clyde. I remember feeling compassion for him\nsometimes as he sat at this window, knowing what an act of self-denial\nit must have been to one so boisterous and full of fun as he was to see\nus, after our work was over of an evening, having a jolly game at\nrounders, or something of that sort, while he had to sit poring over his\nbooks.\n\n'James was not a serious, melancholy student; he was indeed the very\nopposite of that when his little intervals of recreation occurred.\nDuring the day he would be out about the workshop and saw-mill, giving\neach in turn a poking and joking at times very tormenting to the\nrecipients. If we had any little infirmity or weakness, he was sure to\nenlarge upon it and make us try to amend it, assuming the _r\u00d9le_ and\naspect of a drill-sergeant for the time being. He used to have the\nmid-finger of the right hand extended in such a way that he could nip\nand slap you with it very painfully. He used this finger constantly to\npound and drill his comrades, all being done of course in the height of\nglee, frolic, and good-humour. This finger, no doubt by the unlawful use\nto which he put it, at one time developed a painful tumour, to the\ndelight of those who were in the habit of receiving punishment from it.\nJames pulled a long face, and acknowledged that it was a punishment sent\nhim for using the finger in so mischievous a manner.\n\n'There was a pond or dam in connection with the sawmill. In this James\nwas wont to practise the art of swimming. I remember he devised a plan\nof increasing his power of stroke in the water. He made four oval pieces\nof wood rather larger than his hands and feet, tacking straps on one\nside, so that his hands and feet would slip tightly into them. But my\nrecollection is that they were soon discarded as an unsuitable addition\nto his natural resources. He was fond of hunting after geological\nspecimens, getting the local blacksmith to make him a pocket hammer to\ntake with him on his rambles for that purpose. He seldom cared for\ncompany in these wanderings among the mountains, glens, and woods of his\nnative place and country. He would start early in the morning, and\naccomplish feats of walking and climbing during the course of a day.\nIndeed, none of his brothers ever thought of asking James to go with\nthem in their little holiday trips, knowing that anything not the\nconception of his own fancy was but very rarely acceptable to him; and\nhe was never one who would pander to your gratification merely to please\nyou.\n\n'James was fond of boating. Once he hired a small skiff near the\nsuspension-bridge at Glasgow Green, and proceeded with it up the river.\nHaving gone a good way up, the idea appears to have taken him to\nendeavour to get the whole way to Hamilton, where, father having retired\nfrom business in 1866, our parents were now residing. This proved to be\na very arduous task, as in a great many places on that part of the Clyde\nthere is not depth of water to carry a boat. He managed, however, to\naccomplish the task by divesting himself of jacket, stockings, and\nshoes, and pulling the boat over all such shallow and rocky places\n(including the weir at Blantyre Mills, where the renowned African\nmissionary and explorer, Dr. Livingstone, worked in his boyhood), until\nhe reached the bridge on the river between Hamilton and Motherwell, a\ndistance of eleven miles or more from Glasgow in a straight line, and\nmuch more following the numerous bends of the river. Here he made the\nboat secure and proceeded home, a distance of a mile, very tired and\nravenously hungry. The great drawback to his satisfaction in this feat\nwas his fear of the displeasure the boat-owner might feel at his not\nhaving returned the same night, and the rough usage to which he had\nsubjected the boat in hauling it over the rocky places. He was much\ndelighted, when he arrived with the boat down the river during the day,\nto find that the man was rather pleased than otherwise at his plucky\nexploit, telling him that he only remembered it being attempted once\nbefore.\n\n'During part of the time James attended college at Glasgow University,\nthe classes were at so early an hour that he could not take advantage of\nthe railway, and so had to walk in the whole way. This was an anxious\ntime for his mother, who was ever most particular in seeing to the\nhousehold duties herself, and always careful that her children should\nhave a substantial breakfast when they went from home. I remember some\nof those winter mornings. Amidst the bustle of making and partaking of\nan early breakfast so as to be on the road in time, mother would press\nhim to partake more liberally of something she had thoughtfully prepared\nfor him; he would ejaculate: \"Can't take it--no time!\" and if she still\ninsisted he would add in a solemn manner: \"_Mother_, what if the door\nshould be shut when I get there?\" which, being understood by her as a\nscriptural quotation, was sufficient to quench her solicitations.\n\n'To avoid the worry of getting up so early, it was decided after a time\nthat he should take advantage of an unlet three or four apartment house\nin a tenement which belonged to father in Cumberland Street, Glasgow. So\na couple of chairs, table, bed, and some cooking-utensils were got\ntogether, and James entered into possession, cooking his own breakfast,\nand getting his other meals there or outside as his fancy or inclination\nprompted. Here I think he enjoyed himself very much. He had plenty of\nquiet time for study, and he could roam about the city and suburbs for\nexperience, recreation, and instruction, visiting mills and other large\nmanufacturing industries as he was inclined.\n\n'After our parents had removed to Hamilton, James took lodgings in\nGeorge Street, a regular students' resort when the old college was in\nthe High Street. It is now removed to the magnificent pile of buildings\nat Gilmorehill, in the western district of the city. The site of the old\none in the High Street which James attended is now occupied by the\nNorth British and Glasgow and South-Western Railway Companies.'\n\nJames Gilmour left England to begin his Mongolian life-work in February\n1870, and then commenced keeping a diary, from which we shall often\nquote, and which he carefully continued amid, oftentimes, circumstances\nof the greatest difficulty until his death. He gives the following\nreasons for this practice at the time when he was living in a Mongol\ntent learning the language, hundreds of miles away from his nearest\nfellow-worker:--\n\n 'I think it a special duty to my friends, specially my mother, to\n keep this diary, and to be particular in adding my state of mind in\n addition to my mere outward circumstances. In my present isolated\n position, which may be more isolated soon, any accident might\n happen at any moment, after which I could not send home a letter,\n and I think that by keeping my diary punctually and fully my\n friends might have the melancholy satisfaction of following me to\n the grave, as it were, through my writing.'\n\nIn the record of his first outward voyage he included a sketch of his\nearly life, which we briefly reproduce here, as the correlative and\ncomplement of the picture outlined by his brother:--\n\n 'The earliest that I can remember of my life is the portion that\n was spent in Glasgow, before I came with my parents out to the\n country. Of this time I have only a vague recollection. Then\n followed a number of years not very eventful beyond the general lot\n of the years of childhood. One circumstance of these years often\n comes up to my mind. One Sabbath all were at church except the\n servant, Aggie Leitch, and myself. She took down an old copy of\n Bunyan's _Pilgrim's Progress_, with rude plates, and by the help\n of the pictures was explaining the whole book to me. I had not\n heard any of it before, and was deeply interested. We had just got\n as far as the terrible doings of Giant Despair and the horrors of\n Doubting Castle, when all at once, without warning, there came a\n terrible knock at our front door. I really thought the giant was\n upon us. It was some wayfaring man asking the way or something, but\n the terror I felt has made an indelible impression on me.\n\n 'When of the approved age I went to school, wondering whether I\n should ever be able to learn and do as others did. I was very\n nervous and much afraid, and wrought so hard and was so ably\n superintended by my mother that I made rapid progress, and was put\n from one class to another with delightful rapidity. I was\n dreadfully jealous of any one who was a good scholar like myself,\n and to have any one above me in class annoyed me to such a degree\n that I could not play cheerfully with him.\n\n 'The date of my going to college was, I think, the November of the\n year 1862, so that my first session at Glasgow University was\n 1862-63. The classes I took were junior Latin and junior Greek. In\n Latin I got about the twelfth prize, and in Greek I think the\n third. The summer I spent partly in study, partly in helping my\n father in his trade of a wright and joiner.\n\n 'During 1863 and 1864 I lived in Glasgow, and worked very hard,\n taking the first prize in middle Greek and a prize in senior Latin,\n as well as a prize for private work in Greek, and another for the\n same kind of work in Latin. This last I was specially proud of, as\n in it I beat the two best fellows in the Latin class. Next session\n (1864-65) I took a prize in senior Greek. I got nothing in the\n logic, but in moral philosophy in 1865 I was one of those who took\n an active part in the rebellion against Dr. Fleming, who, though he\n was entitled to the full retiring pension, preferred to remain on\n as professor, taking the fees and appointing a student to do the\n work. We made a stand against this, and were able to bring him out\n to his work; but it was too much for him, and he died in harness,\n as he had wished.\n\n 'In English literature I made no appearance in the pieces noted by\n the students, but came out second in the competitive examination,\n which of course astonished a good deal some of the noisy men who\n had answered so much in the class and yet knew so little. I was\n really proud of this prize, as I was sure it was honestly won, and\n as I also felt that from my position in class I failed to get\n credit for anything like what I knew. This session I went in for\n the classical and philosophy parts of the degree, and got them. I\n enjoyed a happy week after it was known that I had passed; and the\n next thing I had to look forward to was going to the Theological\n Hall of the Congregational Church of Scotland, which met in\n Edinburgh in the beginning of May. The session at Edinburgh I\n enjoyed very much. I had not too much work, and used at odd times\n to take long walks and go long excursions. I was often on the\n heights, and about Leith and Portobello.'\n\nThe Rev. John Paterson of Airdrie, N.B., Gilmour's most intimate college\nfriend at Glasgow, thus records his recollections of what he was in\nthose days:--\n\n 'I first made James Gilmour's acquaintance in the winter session of\n 1864-5 at Glasgow University. He came to college with the\n reputation of being a good linguist. This reputation was soon\n confirmed by distinction in his classes, especially in Latin and\n Greek. Though his advantages had been superior to most of us, and\n his mental calibre was of a high order, he was always humble,\n utterly devoid of pride or vanity. No doubt he was firm as a rock\n on any question of conviction, but he was tender in the extreme,\n and full of sympathy with the struggling. He was such a strong man\n all round that he could afford to give every one justice, and such\n a gentleman that he could not but be considerate. One day a country\n student through sheer nervousness missed a class question in the\n Junior Humanity, though the answer was on his tongue: the answering\n of such a question would have brought any man to the front, and\n with a sad heart he told his experience to Gilmour, whose look of\n sympathy is remembered to this day. He always seemed anxious to be\n useful, and he succeeded. During our second session, a brother of\n mine married a cousin of his, and this union led to a closer\n intimacy between us, and in future sessions we lodged together.\n\n 'Throughout his college career Gilmour was a very hard-working\n student; his patience, perseverance, and powers of application were\n marvellous; and yet, as a rule, he was bright and cheerful, able in\n a twinkling to throw off the cares of work, and enter with zest\n into the topics of the day. He had a keen appreciation of the\n humorous side of things, and his merry laugh did one good.\n Altogether he was a delightful companion, and was held in universal\n esteem. One of Gilmour's leading thoughts was unquestionably the\n unspeakable value of time, and this intensified with years. There\n was not a shred of indolence in his nature; it may be truthfully\n said that he never wilfully lost an hour. Even when the college\n work was uncongenial, he never scamped it, but mastered the\n subject. He could not brook the idea of skimming a subject merely\n to pass an examination, and there were few men of his time with\n such wide and accurate knowledge.\n\n 'Unlike many of his fellows, he did not relax his energies in\n summer. During the recess he might have been seen wending his way\n from the old home at Cathkin to the college library, and returning\n laden with books. His superior scholarship secured for him\n excellent certificates and many prizes, both for summer and winter\n work, and it was noticeable that he shone most in written\n examinations. On one occasion, in the Moral Philosophy class, which\n then suffered from the failing health of the professor, the teacher\n _pro tem._ appended, as a criticism of an essay of Gilmour's on\n Utilitarianism, the words, \"Wants thoroughness.\" This was a problem\n to the diligent student, who tackled his critic at the end of the\n hour, and apparently had the best of the argument; for he told me\n afterwards that he had puzzled the judge to explain his own\n verdict. There was a strong vein of combativeness in him; he liked\n to try his strength, both mentally and physically, with others; and\n it was no child's play to wrestle with him in either sense, though\n he never harboured ill-feeling. He had the advantage of being in\n easy circumstances, but was severely economical, wasting nothing.\n He had quite a horror of intoxicating drinks. On one occasion,\n perhaps for reasons of hospitality, some beer had found its way\n into our room: he quietly lifted the window and poured the\n dangerous liquid on the street, saying, \"Better on God's earth than\n in His image.\"\n\n 'As the close of his career in Glasgow drew near, some of us could\n see that all through he had been preparing for some great work on\n which the whole ambition of his life was set. He always shrank\n from speaking about himself, and in those days was not in the habit\n of obtruding sacred things on his fellow-students. His views on\n personal dealing then were changing, and became very decided in\n after years. Earnest, honest, faithful to his convictions, as a\n student he endeavoured to influence others for good more by the\n silent eloquence of a holy life than by definite exhortations, and\n I feel sure his power over some of us was all the greater on that\n account. When it became known that Gilmour intended to be a foreign\n missionary, there was not a little surprise expressed, especially\n among rival fellow-students--men who had competed with him to their\n cost. The moral effect of such a distinguished scholar giving his\n life for Christ among the heathen was very great indeed. To me his\n resolve to go abroad, though it induced a painful separation,\n proved an unspeakable blessing. The reserve which had so long\n prevailed between us on sacred things began to give way, and much\n of our correspondence during his residence at Cheshunt College was\n of a religious turn, though still more theological than practical.\n\n 'The last evening we spent together before he left for China can\n never be forgotten. We parted on Bothwell Bridge. We had walked\n from the village without speaking a word, burdened with the sorrow\n of separation. As we shook hands, he said with intense earnestness,\n \"Paterson, let us keep close to Christ.\" He knew Him and loved Him\n much better than I did then; but about nine years ago, after\n hearing good news from me, he wrote to say that for twelve years he\n had prayed for me every day, and now praised God for the answer.'\n\nIn the diary from which we have already quoted Gilmour thus concludes\nthe sketch of his education:--\n\n 'Near the close of the session of 1867 I opened negotiations with\n the London Missionary Society, the consequence of which was that I\n was removed to Cheshunt College in September of that same year.\n Here (1867-1868) a new experience awaited me--resident college\n life. At Glasgow we dined out, presented ourselves at classes only,\n and did with ourselves whatever we liked in the interval. At\n Cheshunt it was different. All the students live in the buildings\n of the college, which can accommodate forty. Of course I felt a\n little strange at first, and even long after had serious doubts as\n to the settlement of the question, Which is better, life in or out\n of college? The lectures, as a rule, were all in the forenoon.\n\n 'The summer vacation I spent in studying for the Soper scholarship,\n value twenty pounds, which was to be bestowed after examination.\n\n 'I commenced the 1868 and 1869 session at Cheshunt, very busily,\n and in addition to the class work and the Soper work, read some\n books which gave almost a new turn to my mind and my ideas of\n pastoral or missionary life. These books were James's _Earnest\n Ministry_, Baxter's _Reformed Pastor_, and some of Bunyan's works,\n which, through God's blessing, affected me very much for good.\n\n 'The Soper examination should have come off before Christmas, but\n it did not, so that I remained over Christmas at Cheshunt, grinding\n away as hard as I could. I was longing eagerly for the time when\n the examination would be over, that I might the more earnestly\n devote myself to the work of preaching and evangelising. Well, the\n examination came and passed off satisfactorily, and I got the\n twenty pounds.\n\n 'Now was the decisive point. Now had I come to another period,\n when there was an opportunity of going on a new tack; but I found\n myself tempted to seek after another honour, the first prize in\n Cheshunt College. In my first session I had got the second only,\n and now I had an opportunity of trying for the first. It was a\n temptation indeed, but God triumphed. I looked back on my life, and\n saw how often I had been tempted on from one thing to another,\n after I had resolved that I would leave my time more free and at my\n disposal for God, but always was I tempted on. So now I made a\n stand, threw ambition to the winds, and set to reading my Bible in\n good earnest. I made it my chief study during the last three months\n of my residence at Cheshunt, and I look back upon that period of my\n stay there as the most profitable I had.\n\n 'In September, 1869, I entered the missionary seminary at Highgate,\n and also studied Chinese in London with Professor Summers. I went\n home again at Christmas, and on returning to London learned that I\n could go to China as soon as I liked. I said I would go as soon as\n the necessary arrangements could be made, and February 22, 1870,\n was fixed upon as the date of my departure.'\n\nIn this brief and rapid manner James Gilmour sketched, with not a few\nmost characteristic touches, the first twenty-six years of his life. He\nenables us to see the quick, merry, receptive lad, developing, after a\nbrilliant collegiate course and a careful training in theology and in\npractical Christian life, into the strong, resolute missionary. No one\nwho knew him during this time failed to perceive the force of his\ncharacter and the charm of his personality. The writer first came under\nhis influence during his second session at Cheshunt. He was then in the\nprime of his early manhood, in the full possession of physical and\nintellectual vigour, and his soul was aflame with love to the Saviour\nand to the perishing heathen.\n\nHe retained, moreover, the love of fun, the high spirits, the keen\nenjoyment of a good joke, and the constant readiness for an argument\nupon any subject under the sun, which had endeared him to his comrades\nin Glasgow. Every Cheshunt man of that day readily recalls, and rejoices\nas he does so, the memory of his good-natured practical joking, of his\nracy and pointed speeches upon all momentous 'house questions,' of his\npower as a reciter, and of his glowing personal piety. To know him even\nslightly was to respect him; and to enter at all into sympathy with him\nwas to love him as long as life lasted.\n\nThere are many reminiscences of those Cheshunt days, from which we can\ncull only a sufficient number to enable the reader to understand what\nmanner of man he then was. These are drawn from the letters of his\nfellow-students, and from their recollections of his sayings and doings.\n'How well,' writes one, 'I remember his coming to Cheshunt! I was\nacting-senior at the opening of that session, and, according to custom\nwith the new men, went to his room to shake hands with him. He said,\n\"Who are you?\" I told him. \"What do you want?\" I told him I had come\naccording to custom to welcome him, and held out my hand, whereupon he\nput his hands behind him and said, \"Time eno' to shake hands when we've\nquarrelled. But where do you live?\" \"Immediately over your head.\" \"Then\nlook here,\" said he, \"don't make a row;\" and so we parted. Dear old\nfellow! his memory makes life richer.'\n\nAnother writes: 'He was a good elocutionist. He was also a keen debater,\nand so fond of argument that he would not hesitate to take opposite\nground to his own cherished convictions and beliefs, simply for the sake\nof provoking discussion. So earnestly and logically (for he was a good\ndialectician) would he carry on the discussion that it was difficult to\nbelieve that he did not really hold the opinions for which he so\npertinaciously contended. Sometimes this habit of mind reacted very\namusingly upon himself, as the following will show. The subject fixed\none Friday evening for debate in the discussion class was, \"Have animals\nsouls?\" Though fully accepting the common belief that they have not,\nGilmour, purely for the sake of argument, took the affirmative, and with\nsuch enthusiasm pleaded his cause that he brought himself to believe, as\nhe told me afterwards, that animals have souls.'\n\n'At no time during his residence at Cheshunt could there have been any\ndoubt as to Gilmour's piety or consecration to the great work of his\nfuture life; but during the second year it must have been manifest to\nall who knew him intimately that there was a deepening and broadening of\nhis spiritual life. As I look back over the interval of years I can see\nthat it was then he began to reach the high-water mark in Christian life\nand devotion which was so steadily maintained throughout his career in\nChina and Mongolia. An apostolic passion for the salvation of his\nfellow-men took hold upon him. He would go out in the evening, mostly\nalone, and conduct short open-air services at Flamstead End, among the\ncottagers near Cheshunt railway station; seize opportunities of speaking\nto labourers working by the roadside or in the field through which he\nmight be passing. He became very solicitous for the conversion of\nfriends in Scotland, and would come to my study and ask me to kneel\nand pray with him that God's grace might be manifested to them, and that\nHis blessing might rest upon letters which he had written and was\nsending to them. The ordinary style of preaching towards which students\nusually aspire lost its attractions for him, and his sermons assumed\nmore and more the character of earnest exhortations, and addresses to\nthe unconverted. When he knew what was to be his field of labour after\nhis college course was over, how solicitous he was to go out fully\nprepared and fitted in spiritual equipment! The needs of the perishing\nheathen were very real and weighed heavily upon his heart, and he was\nvery anxious to win volunteers among his college friends for this\nall-important work. How he longed and prayed for China's perishing\nmillions only his most intimate friends know.'\n\nThe Rev. H. R. Reynolds, D.D., for the past thirty years the honoured\nPresident of Cheshunt College, has recalled some of his early\nrecollections of James Gilmour.\n\n'Though brusque and outspoken in manner, he was in many respects\nreserved and shy, and very slow to show or accept confidence. We all\nfelt, however, that underneath a canny demeanour there was burning a\nvery intense enthusiasm, and that a character of marked features was\nalready formed, and would only develop along certain lines, settled, but\nnot as yet fully disclosed to others.\n\nThere was not a particle of make-believe in his composition. He shrank\nfrom praise, and was obviously anxious not to appear more reverential or\nwise or devoted than he knew himself to be. He even used, because it was\nnatural to him, a rugged style of expression when speaking of things or\npersons or institutions which for the most part uplift our diction and\ngenerally induce us to adorn or make careful selection of our\nvocabulary. He rapped out expressions which might have suggested\ncarelessness or irreverence or suppressed doubt, but I soon found that\nthere was an intense fire of evangelistic zeal and an almost stormy\nenthusiasm for the conversion of souls to Christ.\n\n'Some special services were held at Cheshunt Street Chapel, in which\nGilmour took part, and the part was at least as demonstrative, perhaps\nmore so, except the music, as that of the modern Salvation Army ensign\nor commissioner. He started from the chapel entrance, on the Sunday\nevening, when considerable numbers were as usual parading the country\nstreet, and bare-headed approached every passer-by with some piquant,\nvigorous inquiry, or message or warning. In the main, his bold summons\nwas, \"Do you believe on the Lord Jesus Christ?\" The entire population in\nthe thoroughfare was stirred, and uncomplimentary jeers mingled with\nsome awe-struck impressions that were then produced.\n\n'During the year 1869 he had those interviews with the late Mrs. Swan,\nof Edinburgh, which led to his choice by the London Missionary Society,\nat her instance, to reopen the long-suspended mission in Mongolia. For a\nwhile he remained in Peking preparing himself by familiarity with the\npeople, their ideas, their language, and religion, for those almost\nhistoric bursts into the great desert and across the caravan routes to\nthe huge fairs, and the renowned temples, to the living lamas and famous\nshrines of the nomadic Mongols, incessantly acting the part of\ntravelling Hakim, itinerant book vendor, and fiery preacher of the\nGospel of Christ.'\n\nIn the year 1869 the policy of the London Missionary Society in the\neducation of its students was very different from that which now\nobtains. After a course at a theological college of two, three, or four\nyears, according to the literary attainments of the man at the time of\nhis acceptance by the Directors, he was sent to the institution at\nHighgate designed to give training suitable for the special requirements\nof the embryo missionaries. In theory this institution was admirable; in\npractice Gilmour and others, much as they esteemed the principal, the\nRev. J. Wardlaw, found it--or thought they found it--very largely a\nwaste of time. The year 1869 saw the beginning of an investigation which\nended in closing the missionary college at Highgate, and in the steps\nthat led to the enquiry Gilmour took a leading part. One of his\ncontemporaries at Highgate has thus described his influence upon both\nhis fellow-students and the institution to which they belonged.\n\n'I first met Gilmour at Farquhar House, Highgate, the London Missionary\nSociety's Institution, where in those days missionary students spent\ntheir last six months before going to the field. Some spent the time in\nstudying the elements of the language of the land to which they were\ngoing; others attended University College Hospital, for the purpose of\ngetting a little medical knowledge; while all tried to make themselves\nacquainted with the history of the people among whom they were to\nlabour. Courses of special missionary lectures, which were highly valued\nby the men, were delivered by the Rev. J., afterwards Dr., Wardlaw.\n\n'Some of us were at Highgate a day or two before Gilmour came up from\nScotland; and as his fame, or rather reports about him, had reached us\nfrom Cheshunt College, we were all very anxious to meet with him. When\nhe did arrive we were, I think, all more or less disappointed, and yet I\ndoubt if any of us could have told why, except that he was not the man\nwe had pictured from the reports we had heard. When he walked quietly\ninto the library I, for one, could hardly believe that the almost\nboyish-looking, open-faced, bright-eyed young man was really Gilmour.\nHis dress made him appear even more youthful than he was, while there\nwas an aspect of good humour about his face and a glance of his eye\nrevealing any amount of fun and frolic. A great writer has said: \"Nature\nhas written a letter of credit on some men's faces, which is honoured\nalmost wherever presented.\" James Gilmour's was a face on which Nature\nhad written no ordinary letter of credit; for there was a sense in which\none might very truly have said that his \"face was his fortune.\" Honesty,\ngood nature, and true manliness were so stamped upon every feature and\nline of it, that you had only to see him to feel that he was one of\nGod's noblest works, and to be drawn to the man as by a magnetic\ninfluence.\n\n'Gilmour was a puzzle to most of our fellow-students, and they could not\nquite make him out. By some he was: regarded as very eccentric, which is\nanother way of saying that he preserved a very marked individuality, and\nalways had the courage of his convictions. They did not seem to\nunderstand how so much playfulness and piety, fervour and frolicsomeness\ncould dwell in the same person. Long before we parted, however, in\nJanuary, 1870, I feel certain that all had come to have not only a\nprofound respect, but also a real heart-love for \"dear old Gillie\"!\n\n'The night before Gilmour left Highgate for the Christmas vacation we\nwere all in his study, when someone, remarking on the risk he was\nrunning in going home to Scotland by sea, instead of by train, said in a\njocular way: \"Suppose the steamer is wrecked and you get drowned, to\nwhom do you leave your books, Gilmour?\" \"Yes,\" he said at once, \"that is\nwell thought of. Come along, you fellows, and pick out the books you\nwould like to keep in memory of me, if I never return.\" Of course we\nonly laughed and said it was all a joke; but he said, \"It is no joke\nwith me, I mean what I say;\" and so he did. He was in dead earnest, and\nnothing would satisfy him but that each should pick out the book or\nbooks he would like to have if he never returned. He then turned to me\nand said: \"Now, I leave the rest to your care, and if I never return I\nwant all on this shelf sent to my father and mother, and you can do\nanything you like with the rest.\" Had anyone else acted in that way, we\nshould have certainly suspected that he had gone \"_queer_\"; but it was\nGilmour, and we all understood the straight, matter-of-fact way in which\nhe went about everything he did.\n\n'Through a misunderstanding, as we afterwards discovered, the students\nat Highgate came into collision with the Directors of the Society over\nthe studies to be prosecuted. Additional classes were arranged, and\nthese some of us declined to attend. This act of rebellion, as it was\nregarded at the Mission House, had to be put down with a firm hand, and\na special meeting of the Board of Directors was called to deal with us.\n\n'The night before we were to meet the Board we met in Gilmour's study,\nto settle what we were to say to the Directors when we met them. One\nonly of our number, when he saw that there was likely to be a rather\nserious interchange of ideas between us and the Directors, caved in\ncompletely, and would have nothing further to do with our resistance.\n\n'When we met the Board Gilmour made his defence in his frank,\nstraightforward way, and, I am afraid, upset some of the Directors very\nmuch by his plain speaking. They did not know the man, and regarded him\nas one of the ringleaders in rebellion, and, of course, were not in the\nhumour to do him justice. But when we met the subcommittee appointed to\ndeal with us the misunderstanding came to an end, and they admitted that\nwe had been in the right in objecting to the extra classes thus\nimposed.'\n\nDuring these last months in England James Gilmour paid much earnest heed\nto the culture of his soul. Just before he sailed for China, he set\nforth his inner experience and his keen sense of the difficulties of the\ncourse upon which he was embarking in the following letter to a Cheshunt\nfriend:--\n\n 'Companions I can scarcely hope to meet, and the feeling of being\n _alone_ comes over me till I think of Christ and His blessed\n promise, \"Lo, I am with you alway, even to the end of the world.\"\n No one who does not go away, leaving all and going alone, can feel\n the force of this promise; and when I begin to feel my heart\n threatening to go down, I betake myself to this companionship, and,\n thank God, I have felt the blessedness of this promise rushing over\n me repeatedly when I knelt down and spoke to Jesus as a present\n companion, from whom I am sure to find sympathy. I have felt a\n tingle of delight thrilling over me as I felt His presence, and\n thought that wherever I may go He is still with me. I have once or\n twice lately felt a melting sweetness in the name of Jesus as I\n spoke to Him and told Him my trouble. Yes, and the trouble went\n away, and I arose all right. Is it not blessed of Christ to care so\n much for us poor feeble men, so sinful and so careless about\n honouring Him? the moment we come to Him He is ready with His\n consolations for us!\n\n 'I have been thinking lately over some of the inducements we have\n to live for Christ, and to confess Him and preach Him before men,\n not conferring with flesh and blood. Why should we be trammelled by\n the opinions and customs of men? Why should we care what men say of\n us? Salvation and damnation are _realities_, Christ is a reality,\n _Eternity_ is a reality, and we shall soon be there in reality, and\n time shall soon be finished; and from our stand in eternity we\n shall look back on what we did in time, and what shall we think of\n it? Shall we be able to understand why we were afraid to speak to\n this man or that woman about salvation? Shall we be able to\n understand how we were ashamed to do what we knew was a Christian\n duty before one whom we knew to be a mocker at religion? Our\n cowardice shall seem small to us then. Let us now measure our\n actions by the standard of that scene, let us now look upon the\n things of time in the light of eternity, and we shall see them\n better as they are, and live more as we shall wish then we had\n done. It is not too late. We can secure yet what remains of our\n life. The present still is ours. Let us use it. It may be that we\n can't be great, let us be good; if we can't shine as great lights,\n let us make our light shine as God has made it to shine. Let us\n live lives as in the presence of Christ, anxious for His approval,\n and glad to take the condemnation of the world, and of Christ's\n professed servants even, if we get the commendation of angels and\n our Master. The \"well done!\" is to the faithful servant--to the\n _faithful_, not the great. Let us watch and pray that we may be\n faithful. It is a little hard to be this, and to care little for\n man.\n\n 'Yesterday afternoon I preached here at home, and took the most\n earnest sermon I had, \"_Behold, I stand at the door and knock_.\"\n Well, in doing so, I thought I was acting quite independently of\n man; and even after I had preached it, thought I would not care for\n man. But one man praised it, and I felt pleased, and, as might then\n be expected, felt a little hurt when a friend called this morning\n and told me that what I gave them yesterday was _no sermon at all_.\n Now, if I had been regarding Christ alone, I would not have been\n moved by either the one or the other of these criticisms; and I\n wish that I could get above this sort of thing, and get beyond the\n attempt at pleasing men at all. Why should we confer with men?'\n\nJames Gilmour was ordained as a missionary to Mongolia in Augustine\nChapel, Edinburgh, on February 10, 1870, and, in accordance with\nNonconformist custom, he made a statement about the development of his\nreligious life from which we take the following extract:--\n\n 'My conversion took place after I had begun to attend the Arts\n course in the University of Glasgow. I had gone to college with no\n definite aim as to preparing for a profession; an opportunity was\n offered me of attending classes, and I embraced it gladly,\n confident that whatever training or knowledge I might there acquire\n would prove serviceable to me afterwards in some way or other.\n\n 'After I became satisfied that I had found the \"way of life,\" I\n decided to tell others of that way, and felt that I lay under\n responsibility to do what I could to extend Christ's kingdom. Among\n other plans of usefulness that suggested themselves to me was that\n of entering the ministry. But, in my opinion, there were two things\n that everyone who sought the office of the ministry should have,\n viz., an experimental knowledge of the truth which it is the work\n of the minister to preach, and a good education to help him to do\n it; the former I believed I had, the latter I hoped to obtain. So I\n quietly pursued the college course till I entered on the last\n session, when, after prayerful consideration and mature\n deliberation, I thought it my duty to offer myself as a candidate\n for the ministry.\n\n 'Having decided as to the capacity in which I should labour in\n Christ's kingdom, the next thing which occupied my serious\n attention was the _locality_ where I should labour. Occasionally\n before I had thought of the relative claims of the home and foreign\n fields, but during the summer, session in Edinburgh I thought the\n matter out, and decided for the mission field; even on the low\n ground of common sense I seemed to be called to be a missionary. Is\n the kingdom a harvest field? Then I thought it reasonable that I\n should seek to work where the work was most abundant and the\n workers fewest. Labourers say they are overtaxed at home; what then\n must be the case abroad, where there are wide stretching plains\n already white to harvest, with scarcely here and there a solitary\n reaper? To me the soul of an Indian seemed as precious as the soul\n of an Englishman, and the Gospel as much for the Chinese as for the\n European; and as the band of missionaries was few compared with the\n company of home ministers, it seemed to me clearly to be my duty to\n go abroad.\n\n 'But I go out as a missionary not that I may follow the dictates of\n common sense, but that I may obey that command of Christ, \"_Go into\n all the world and preach_.\" He who said \"_preach_,\" said also, \"Go\n ye into and _preach_,\" and what Christ hath joined together let not\n man put asunder.\n\n 'This command seems to me to be strictly a missionary injunction,\n and, as far as I can see, those to whom it was first delivered\n regarded it in that light, so that, apart altogether from choice\n and other lower reasons, my going forth is a matter of obedience to\n a plain command; and in place of seeking to assign a reason for\n going abroad, I would prefer to say that I have failed to discover\n any reason why I should stay at home.'\n\nOn February 22, 1870, James Gilmour embarked at Liverpool upon the\nsteamship Diomed, and thus fairly started on the work of his life. Among\nhis extant correspondence is a long letter which describes the voyage to\nChina, and the way in which he utilised the opportunities it afforded\nfor trying to do his Master's will.\n\n 'We sailed from Liverpool, and my father saw me off. The passengers\n were few--nine or ten. We had a cabin each. There was a Wesleyan\n medical missionary named Hardey going out to Hankow. We soon drew\n together. The doctor of the ship was a young fellow from Greenock,\n and had been at Glasgow College when I was there last. Among the\n 1,200 we had not stumbled upon each other. The married man was\n something or other in the Consular service. A young lady passenger\n was the daughter of a judge in China. A young man was going out to\n try his fortune in China: his qualifications were some knowledge of\n tea and a love of drink. Another decent young fellow was going out\n to China as a tea-taster. Another young fellow was going out to\n Australia _vi\u201a_ Singapore. Thus, you see, I was the only parson on\n board; and as the ship's company was High Church, and I a\n Dissenter, it may be seen that we did not fit each other exactly.\n Some of the passengers were so High Church that one of them told me\n he thought we Dissenters were sunk more deeply in error than the\n Papists.\n\n 'The captain was a sensible kind of rough seaman, and I at once\n volunteered my services as chaplain, and was accepted, though with\n some caution. He evidently thought me too young to be trusted with\n a sermon; the Church of England prayers I might read, and he put\n into my hands a book with a sermon for any Sunday and holy-day in\n the year. I took the book and said I would look through it. The Bay\n of Biscay was calm when we crossed it, but on Sunday morning we\n were tumbling about off the Rock of Lisbon. As I could hardly keep\n my legs, I did not think we should have had service; but we crowded\n into the smoking-saloon (we were afraid to venture below, for\n sickness), and I read prayers. Next Sunday I read a sermon from the\n book. All the Sundays after that I gave them my own, and, as I was\n under the impression that they had not heard much plain preaching,\n did my best to let them hear the gospel pure and simple. I half\n suspected they did not quite like it. It was hinted to me that they\n complained of my preaching. The next Sunday came, and, under the\n impression it might be the last time I would have the opportunity,\n I made the most earnest and direct appeal to them I possibly could.\n I was not a little thankful and astonished when, soon after, in\n place of being asked to shut up, I was thanked for it, and assured\n it was the best I had given them, and told that it was a waste of,\n &c., &c., for me to go out as a missionary--I should have stopped\n at home. After that I had no trouble with the passengers, and we\n got on well together.\n\n 'As for the men, from captain to cabin-boy there were about sixty.\n Among these was one earnest Christian man, a German and a Baptist.\n He was a quarter-master. He was a little peculiar in appearance,\n and spoke English not quite smoothly. On one occasion, when some of\n the passengers were laughing at something he had done and said, the\n captain happened to pass, and, seeing what was up, remarked that\n the man was a first-rate fellow--he never caught him idle. If you\n except this man, the captain, and the boy, the whole ship's\n company swore like troopers. So universal was the vice that the\n men, I almost think, were hardly aware that they did swear. I was\n puzzled. Sometimes when I went out in the morning I would hear a\n volley of oaths coming from the mouth of a man who had been talking\n quite seriously with me over-night.\n\n Few of the men came to the service, and as they would not come to\n us we went to them. Hardey and I, usually in the evenings,\n conducted short little services in the forecastle as often as we\n thought desirable. We were always well received and listened to\n respectfully. I think I may say safely that all on board had\n repeated opportunities of hearing the gospel as plainly as I could\n put it, and a good many had something more than mere opportunities.\n After it was dark I used to go out and get the men one by one, as\n they sat in corners during their watch in the night. All they had\n to do was to be within call when wanted, and many a good long talk\n I have had with a good many of them. Of course, my object in\n accosting them was religious conversation, and this I usually\n succeeded in having; but on many occasions, that we might be quite\n on a footing of equality, I had in return to listen to their yarns.\n The man on the look-out was a frequent victim. I was always sure to\n find a man there, generally alone, and never asleep. The man, also,\n was changed at regular intervals, so that I knew exactly when I\n would find a fresh man. When I talked to the look-out man, I used\n to keep a sharp lookout myself, lest by distracting his attention I\n should get him into trouble. Many a good hour have I stood at the\n prow as we passed through the warm Indian Ocean, till my clothes\n were wet with the dew of night; and then I would find my way down\n to my cabin about midnight, with my head so full of the\n ghost-stories I had just heard that I was really afraid I might\n meet a real ghost coming out of my cabin.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nBEGINNING WORK\n\n\nIn 1817 two missionaries, the Rev. E. Stallybrass and the Rev. W. Swan,\nleft England to begin Christian work among the Buriats, a Mongolian\ntribe living under Russian authority. At Selenginsk and at Onagen Dome\nthey laboured for many years; but in 1841 the Russian Emperor ordered\nthem to leave the country. From the command of the autocrat there was no\nappeal, and the mission came to an end. But in the good providence of\nGod the two missionaries had translated the whole Bible into Buriat; the\nOld Testament being printed in Siberia in 1840, the New Testament in\nLondon in 1846. Notwithstanding the suppression of the mission, the Word\nof God in the Mongol tongue continued to circulate among the people.\n\nIt was to the reopening and development of this missionary work among\nthe Mongol tribes that James Gilmour consecrated his life. He was\nappointed, in the first instance, to the London Mission at Peking, and\nthat centre formed his first base of operations. He continued also a\nmember of that mission until the close of his life. He reached the\nChinese capital on May 18, 1870. At once he settled down to hard and\ncontinuous work at the Chinese language, endeavouring also from the\nfirst to discover the best means of restarting the Mongol Mission. The\nvery full diary which he kept lies before us as we write, and enables us\nto understand the varying progress and hindrance, encouragement and\ndespondency of this time.\n\n '_June 11, 1870._--Mr. Gulick advises me to pay little attention to\n the Chinese and go in hot and strong for the Mongolian. I am not\n quite sure that he is not right, after all. However, I mean to\n stick into the Chinese yet for a time to come with my teacher and\n to mix among the people as much as I can. I went out to-night and\n with the gate-keeper and two of his companions had a lot of talk,\n in which I learned a good lot. I hope to benefit largely by this\n pleasant mode of study. Perhaps by this means I may be able to do\n them good. Lord grant it!'\n\n '_June 12, 1870._--I am to-day twenty-seven years of age, and what\n have I done? Let the time that is past suffice to have wrought the\n will of the flesh. The prospect I have before me now is the most\n inspiriting one any man can have. Health, strength, as much\n conscious ability as makes one hope to be able to get the language\n of the people to whom I am sent, a new field of work among men who\n are decidedly religious and simple-minded, left pretty much to my\n own ideas as to what is best to be done in the attempted\n evangelization of Mongolia, friends left in Britain behind me\n praying for me, comfort and peace here in the prosecution of my\n present studies, the idea that what I do is for eternity, and that\n this life is but the short prelude to an eternal state, the thought\n that after death there shall break on my view a thousand truths\n that now I long in vain to know--these thoughts and many others\n make my present life happy, and in a manner careless as to what\n should come. In time may I be able to do my part as I ought, and\n may God have great mercy upon me!'\n\nOn June 22, 1870, the news of the Tientsin massacre reached Peking. A\nRoman Catholic convent had been destroyed and thirteen French people\nkilled. Very great uncertainty prevailed as to whether this indicated a\nfurther purpose of attacking all missions and all foreigners, and for a\nwhile things looked very dark. It was a time in which the nerve and\ncourage and faith of men were severely tried, and splendidly did Gilmour\nendure the test. While unable to escape wholly from the fears common to\nall, his reply to the counsels of worldly prudence and selfish dread was\nadvance in his work. When others were wondering whether they might not\nhave to retreat, he, alone, in almost total ignorance of the language,\nentirely unfamiliar with the country, went up to the great Mongolian\nplain, and entered upon the service so close to his heart--personal\nintercourse with and effort for the Mongols.\n\nHow trying a season this was his diary reveals. Under date of June 23,\n1870, the day after the first tidings of the outbreak had been received,\nhe writes:--\n\n 'The Roman Catholic missionaries have suffered severely, and the\n Protestant missionaries are not in a very safe condition. We are\n living on the slope of a volcano that may put forth its slumbering\n rage at any moment. For example, people ask why there is no rain,\n and blame the foreigners for it; and should a famine ensue, we may\n fare hard for it. Now is the time for trying what stuff a man's\n religion is made of. We may be all dead men directly; are we afraid\n to die? Our death might further the cause of Christ more than our\n life could do. We must die some time or other; now that we have a\n near view of its possibility, how can we look forward to it? God!\n do Thou make my faith firm and bright, so that death may seem\n small and not to be feared. Help me to trust Thee and Christ\n implicitly, so that with calm mind I may work while Thou dost let\n me live, and when Thou dost call me home, let me come gladly.'\n\nThe further entries in his Diary at this time depict his inner\nexperience from day to day:--\n\n '_July 10._--Rose 6.20. Dull morning, rained a little. Felt\n uncomfortable at the idea of being killed; felt troubled at the\n idea of leaving Peking. How am I to pack and carry my goods? Felt\n troubled at remaining in the midst of a troubled city, with a\n government weak and stupid. How is my mission to get on beginning\n thus? O God, let me cast all my care upon Thee, and commit my soul\n also to Thy safe keeping. Keep me, O God, in perfect peace! Rain\n made a thin meeting this morning, but all was quiet. In afternoon\n went with Mr. Edkins to the west; things uncommonly quiet and\n peaceful.\n\n '_July 12._--While others are writing to papers and trying to stir\n up the feelings of the people, so that they may take action in the\n matter, perhaps I may be able to do some good moving Heaven. My\n creed leads me to think that prayer is efficacious, and surely a\n day's asking God to overrule all these events for good is not lost.\n Still, there is a great feeling that when a man is praying he is\n doing nothing, and this feeling, I am sure, makes us give undue\n importance to work, sometimes even to the hurrying over or even to\n the neglect of prayer.\n\n '_July 22._--A good deal troubled about the present state of\n matters. I don't exactly know how to estimate rumours and reports,\n and this may cause me more uneasiness than there is any need for.\n Still, I don't know. At times I feel a great revulsion from being\n killed, at other times I feel as if I could be killed quietly, and\n not dislike the thing much. Sometimes the tone of those about us is\n hopeful, and that causes hope also. Sometimes the prospect of a\n speedy removal, a half flight, comes upon me with great force, and\n to see all its annoyance, not to speak of the danger, is not\n pleasant at all. Oh for the simple, childlike faith that can trust\n all things to God and leave all care upon Him! Ought we not to have\n it? Is God not the same God now that He was when He delivered His\n people from Egypt, and His saints from the hands of their enemies,\n from the mouth of the lions, and the fiery furnace? Cannot God keep\n us yet--will He not do it? But then comes the thought, perhaps God\n does not wish us to live, but to die. Often has He allowed His\n saints to be slain. What then? Well, as the men in the furnace said\n of God, \"Will He care to defend us? if not, be it known unto you we\n will not yield.\" I might have died in childhood, in youth, before\n conversion, and if then, alas! alas! I can remember the time when\n the pains of hell got such a terrible hold upon me that I would\n have gladly changed places in the world with anyone who had the\n hope of salvation. Death, life, prospects, honour, shame, seemed\n nothing compared with this hope of salvation, which I was then\n without. \"Could I ever be saved?\" was the question; \"would I ever\n have the hope that I knew others had?\" Had I died in darkness--God\n be thanked, the light has shined forth, and I have the hope of\n eternal life. May God make me more Christlike, and give me stronger\n hope! Well, then, this hope I have; from this fearful pit I have\n been delivered; in the light I now walk. God I call my Father,\n Christ my Saviour, heaven my home, earth and the life here the\n entrance to real life. If there is anything in our faith or in our\n belief, then heaven is as much better than earth as it is higher\n than earth, and our souls life is insured from all harm. If a man\n is insured against all possible harm, why should he be afraid? Not\n one hair of our head shall perish! O Lord, help me to live this\n faith and to be in this frame of mind. In this city are many\n foreigners, who came here to learn the language, &c., and many of\n them have no great hope of heaven. They seem calm enough, and are\n no doubt calm enough; shall the courage of the world, shall the\n courage of scepticism, shall the courage of carelessness be greater\n and produce better fruit than the courage of the Christian? O Lord,\n preserve me from the sin of dishonouring Thy name through fear and\n cowardice! Let us be bold in the Lord!'\n\nBy the end of July 1870, Gilmour had reached a fixed resolution to go to\nMongolia as soon as the necessary arrangements could be made. A severe\ntest had been applied to him, and the way in which he met it gives the\nkey to the whole of his after life. He used the trial as a help onwards\nin the path of duty, and the chain of events which would have led many\nmen to postpone indefinitely the beginning of a new and hard work only\ndrove him the more eagerly into new fields. The reasons that influenced\nhim are set forth in his official report written many months later.\n\n 'After the massacre at Tientsin, very grave fears prevailed at\n Peking; no one could tell how far the ramifications of the plot\n might extend, and it was impossible to sift the matter. The people\n openly talked of an extermination, and claimed to have the tacit\n favour of the Government in this; nay more, the Government itself\n issued ambiguous, if not insinuating, proclamations, which fomented\n the excitement of the populace to such an extent that the days were\n fixed for the \"Clearing of Peking.\" The mob was thoroughly quieted\n on the first of the days fixed by a twenty hours' pour of\n tremendous rain, which converted Peking into a muddy, boatless\n Venice, and kept the people safely at home in their helpless felt\n shoes, as securely as if their feet had been put into the stocks.\n This was Friday. Tuesday was the reserve day; Saturday and Sabbath\n one felt the tide of excitement rising, and on Monday morning the\n Peking Gazette came out with an Imperial edict that at once allayed\n the excitement, and assured us that there was no danger for the\n present.\n\n 'We had then to draw breath and look about us calmly, and the\n general conclusion that the \"Old Pekingers\" came to was that the\n French would be compelled to resort to force of arms to gain\n redress. The attitude of the Chinese people and Government made\n them think so, and so they determined to wait on quietly in Peking\n till things should get thick, and then it would be time to go\n south. I think I may safely say that everyone drew out an inventory\n of his things, and not a few had their most necessary things packed\n \"on the sly,\" and were ready to start on short notice.\n\n 'Up to this point I stood quietly aside; but now was my time to\n reason, and on the data they supplied I reasoned thus: \"If I go\n south, no Mongol can be prevailed on to go with me, and so I am\n shut out from my work, and that for an indefinite time. If I can\n get away north, then I can go on with the language, and perhaps\n come down after the smoke clears away, knowing Mongolian, and\n having lost no time.\" I felt a great aversion to travelling so far\n alone, and with such imperfect knowledge of the language, but as I\n thought it over from day to day I was more and more convinced that\n to run the risk of having to go south would be to prove unfaithful\n to duty, and so I conferred no longer with likings or dislikings,\n resolved to go should an opportunity offer, and in the meantime\n worked away at Chinese.\n\n 'By-and-by a Russian merchant turned up; he was going to Kiachta,\n so I started with him. I could not go sooner, as it was not safe to\n travel in the country before the Imperial edict was issued; to wait\n longer was to run the risk of not going at all.'\n\n\n[Illustration: MAP ILLUSTRATING JAMES GILMOUR'S JOURNEYS ON THE GREAT\nPLAIN OF MONGOLIA]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nMONGOLIAN APPRENTICESHIP\n\n\nThe name Mongolia denotes a vast and almost unknown territory situated\nbetween China Proper and Siberia, constituting the largest dependency of\nthe Chinese Empire. It stretches from the Sea of Japan on the east to\nTurkestan on the west, a distance of nearly 3,000 miles; and from the\nsouthern boundary of Asiatic Russia to the Great Wall of China, a\ndistance of about 900 miles. It consists of high tablelands, lifted up\nconsiderably above the level of Northern China, and is approached only\nthrough rugged mountain passes. The central portion of this enormous\narea is called the Desert of Gobi.\n\nA kind of highway for the considerable commercial traffic between China\nand Russia runs through the eastern central part of Mongolia, leaving\nChina at the frontier town of Kalgan, and touching Russia at the\nfrontier town of Kiachta. Along this route during all but the winter\nmonths, caravans of camel-carts and ox-carts attended by companies of\nMongols and Chinese are constantly passing. The staple export from China\nis tea; the chief imports are salt, soda, hides, and timber.\n\nThe west and the centre of Mongolia is occupied by nomad Mongols. They\nhave clusters of huts and tents in fixed locations which form their\nwinter dwellings. But in summer they journey over the great plains in\nsearch of the best pasturage for their flocks and herds. They are\nconsequently exceedingly difficult to reach by any other method than\nthat of sharing their roving tent life. In the southeastern district of\nMongolia there are large numbers of agricultural Mongols who speak both\nChinese and Mongolian. The towns in this part are almost wholly\ninhabited by Chinese.\n\nThe winter in Mongolia is both long and severe; in the summer the heat\nis often very oppressive, and the great Plain is subject to severe\nstorms of dust, rain and wind.\n\nBuddhism is all-powerful, and the larger half of the male population are\nlamas or Buddhist priests. 'Meet a Mongol on the road, and the\nprobability is that he is saying his prayers and counting his beads as\nhe rides along. Ask him where he is going, and on what errand, as the\ncustom is, and likely he will tell you he is going to some shrine to\nworship. Follow him to the temple, and there you will find him one of a\ncompany with dust-marked forehead, moving lips, and the never absent\nbeads, going the rounds of the sacred place, prostrating himself at\nevery shrine, bowing before every idol, and striking pious attitudes at\nevery new object of reverence that meets his eye. Go to Mongolia itself,\nand probably one of the first great sights that meet your eye will be a\ntemple of imposing grandeur, resplendent from afar in colours and gold.'\n\n'The Mongol's religion marks out for him certain seemingly indifferent\nactions as good or bad, meritorious or sinful. There is scarcely one\nsingle step in life, however insignificant, which he can take without\nfirst consulting his religion through his priest. Not only does his\nreligion insist on moulding his soul, and colouring his whole spiritual\nexistence, but it determines for him the colour and cut of his coat. It\nwould be difficult to find another instance in which any religion has\ngrasped a country so universally and completely as Buddhism has\nMongolia.'[1]\n\n[1] _Among the Mongols_, p. 211.\n\nIt was to the herculean task of attempting single-handed to evangelise a\nregion and a people like this that James Gilmour addressed himself. His\nearly journeys are fully set forth in _Among the Mongols_, and we do not\npropose to repeat them here. Our object rather is to depict, so far as\npossible, the inner life of James Gilmour, and the real nature of the\nwork he accomplished. He left Peking on August 5, and reached Kalgan\nfour days later. On August 27 he started for his first trip across the\ngreat plain of Mongolia to Kiachta. A Russian postmaster was to be his\ncompanion, but, to avoid travelling on Sunday, Gilmour started a day\nahead, and then waited for the Russian to come up. Here is his first\nview of scenes he was so often in later life to visit.\n\n '_Sabbath, August 28._--Awoke about 5 A.M. just as it was drawing\n towards light, and saw that we were right out into the Plain.\n\n 'I am writing up my diary, with a lot of people looking into my\n cart. I have just given them a Mongol Catechism, and I hope it may\n do them good. God, do Thou bless it to them! Would I could speak to\n them, but I cannot. I am glad to be saved the trouble of travelling\n to-day. My mind feels at rest for the present. I am looking about\n me, and having my first look at the life I am likely to lead.\n There are several more Mongol dwellings within sight, plenty of\n camels, horses, and oxen. The Mongols have a tent of their own, and\n the \"commandant's\" tent has also been put up. A Mongol has just\n come up and changed his dress, his cloak serving him as a tent\n meantime. I am hesitating whether to try to read in my cart or go\n off a little way with my plaid and umbrella.\n\n 'Had not a very intellectual or spiritual day after all. Went in\n the afternoon away to the east. Had a good view and a time of\n devotion at a cairn from which an eagle rose as I approached.\n Returned to the camp and bought milk and some cheese. Intended to\n make porridge, but the fire was not good on account of the blowing,\n so I drank off my milk, ate some bread, and went to sleep.'\n\nThe journey across the desert, including a visit to Urga, occupied a\nmonth. It was full of intense interest for the traveller, and many of\nthe most abiding impressions of his life and work were then received.\nHis diary reveals the deep yearnings of his heart for the salvation of\nthe Mongols. Under the date September 11, 1870, he writes:--\n\n 'Astir by daybreak. Camels watering; made porridge and tea. This is\n the Lord's day; help me, O Lord, to be in the spirit, and to be\n glad and rejoice in the day which Thou hast made! Several huts in\n sight. When shall I be able to speak to the people? O Lord, suggest\n by the Spirit how I should come among them, and guide me in gaining\n the language, and in preparing myself to teach the life and love of\n Christ Jesus! Oh, let me live for Christ, and feel day by day the\n blessedness of a will given up to God, and the happiness of a life\n which has its every circumstance working for my good!'\n\n His constant rule was to rest from all journeying, so far as\n possible, on the Sabbath. After another week's experience, on\n September 18 he thus records his impressions:--\n\n 'Encamped just over the plain we saw at sunset last night. We are\n some distance from the real exit, but not far. This is the Lord's\n day; God help me to be in the spirit notwithstanding all\n distractions. Oh that God would give me more of His Spirit, more of\n His felt Presence, more of the spirit and power of prayer, that I\n may bring down blessings on this poor people of Mongolia! As I look\n at them and their huts I ask again and again how am I to go among\n them; in comfort and in a waggon, with all my things about me; or\n in poverty, reducing myself to their level? If I go among them\n rich, they will be continually begging, and perhaps regard me more\n as a source of gifts than anything else. If I go with nothing but\n the Gospel, there will be nothing to distract their attention from\n the unspeakable gift.\n\n '8.15 A.M.-3.15 P.M. Good long walk. Met camels and came upon a\n cart encampment, estimated at one hundred and seventy. Know where I\n am on the map. There is a camel encampment where we are. Two huts\n from which comes fuel. Read to-day in II Chronicles xvi. God never\n failed those who trusted in Him and appealed to Him. God was\n displeased with the King of Judah because, after the deliverance\n from the Lubims, Ethiopians, &c., he trusted to the arm of flesh to\n deliver him from the Syrians. Do we not in our day rest too much on\n the arm of flesh? Cannot the same wonders be done now as of old? Do\n not the eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth,\n still to show Himself strong on behalf of those who put their trust\n in Him? Oh that God would give me more practical faith in Him!\n Where is now the Lord God of Elijah? He is waiting for Elijah to\n call on Him. God give me some of Elijah's spirit, and let my power\n be of God, and my hope from Him for the conversion of this people.\n\n 'It is nothing to the Lord to save by many or by them that have no\n power. Help me, O God, for I rest on Thee, and in Thy name I go\n against this multitude!'\n\nKiachta, on the southern frontier of Siberia, was reached September 28,\n1870, and there Gilmour was at once plunged into a series of troubles.\nThe Russian and Chinese authorities would not recognise his passport,\nand he had to wait months before another could be obtained from Peking.\nHe found absolutely no sympathy in his work. He knew next to nothing of\nthe Mongol language. Yet with robust faith, with whole-hearted courage,\nwith a resolution that nothing could daunt, he set to work. A Scotch\ntrader, named Grant, was kind to him, and found accommodation for him at\nhis house. At first he tried the orthodox plan of getting a Mongol\nteacher to visit and instruct him. Before he secured one he used to\nvisit such Mongols as he found in the neighbourhood, trying to acquire a\nvocabulary from them, asking the names of the articles they were using,\ntheir actions, and all such other matters as he could make them\nunderstand. But his loneliness, his ignorance of the language, the\ninaction to which he was condemned, partly by his difficulty in getting\na suitable teacher, and partly by the uncertainty as to whether the\nauthorities would allow him to remain, told upon his eager spirit as\nweek after week passed by, and he became subject to fits of severe\ndepression. Here is a picture of one of these early days. He had been\ntrying to talk with a Buriat carpenter, in a place called Kudara, not\nfar from Kiachta:--\n\n 'After getting my quota of words I walked through the town. The\n main object in it is the church, a large whitewashed structure\n built by Mr. Grant's father-in-law when he was a rich man. He was\n made poor, comparatively speaking, in one night by a great fire\n which burnt up all before it. In addition to the church are some\n streets of Cossack houses, desolate enough looking, the streets\n desolate enough at best, but rendered much more so this morning by\n the snow melting in the sun, which is still high, and manages to\n thaw away all the snow that falls in places where it shines, though\n it was frost all day in the shade. Passing the town I made for the\n river, which rolled on quiet and cold. Passed through large\n orchards of apple(?) trees; doubled about, went to the extreme\n west, got on a hill, and came round home again in time for dinner\n at 4 P.M. I felt very lonely, and not having a teacher I am thrown\n idle, as it were, a great part of the day after I get my words. It\n is true I am taking notice of all I see, but it always occurs to me\n that this is not furthering the Mongolian Mission in any direct\n way. I often think of what Dr. Alexander said in his charge at my\n ordination: \"_You do not go to discover new countries._\" Would I\n had a teacher, that the language might go on full swing! To-day I\n felt a good deal like Elijah in the wilderness, when the reaction\n came on after his slaughter of the priests of Baal. He prayed that\n he might die. I wonder if I am telling the truth when I say that I\n felt drawn towards suicide. I take this opportunity of declaring\n strongly that on all occasions two missionaries should go together.\n I was not of this opinion a few weeks ago, but I had no idea how\n weak an individual I am. My eyes have filled with tears frequently\n these last few days in spite of myself, and I do not wonder in the\n least that Grant's brother shot himself. _Oh! the intense\n loneliness of Christ's life_, not a single one understood Him! He\n bore it. O Jesus, let me follow in Thy steps, and have in me the\n same Spirit that Thou hadst!\n\n 'Read papers in the evening (Oct 5). So Jones of Singrauli is dead!\n I heard him in Exeter Hall, May, a year or two ago, and heard a\n good deal of him through Dr. Evans, of Chestnut College. I am\n persuaded he was a missionary among a thousand. When he returned to\n his station he found that during his absence matters had got out of\n order a good deal, and he set about putting them right. Now he is\n dead! How prodigal God seems of His workers--Hartley, Jones, both A\n 1, both gone. God's ways are not ours. We would have preserved\n these two at all risk and expense, but God _takes_ them away, and\n it seems to us as if He were hurting His own cause. God knows best,\n but to _us_ it is a great mystery.'\n\nTwo days later he received a letter telling him of the death of a\nbrilliant young Glasgow student, and he enters in his diary comments\nwhich received only too complete an illustration in his own subsequent\ncareer:--\n\n 'Another splendid student going from college to the grave. This is\n a thing of common occurrence with reference to Glasgow College,\n and, if I am not mistaken, I have seen it somewhere publicly\n commented on. Men, poor it may be, strive through college with a\n mind and determination beyond their circumstances and bodily\n strength, fight a great battle with poverty and more clever\n students, resolute to take the first place if possible, and just as\n the college is finished with them, and sending them forth to the\n field of life decorated with all the honours it can bestow, the\n fond Alma Mater has to keep on mourning and drop her tear over an\n early grave.\n\n 'Are the young men to blame? Who can be restrained by the\n cold-blooded calculation of preserving health? \"There is my\n opponent, I'll thrash him if I can; better to toil out my\n life-blood drop by drop than let it mount to my cheek as a mantle\n of shame when I find myself defeated when I might have been\n victorious.\" Then they conscientiously work themselves to death. If\n they did not work as hard as they do, and refrain from recreation\n as they do, they would have in their breasts the uneasy feeling\n that they have not done as much as they might have done; and what\n noble nature can be content to live under that accusation written\n against them by the supreme court in their own breasts?\n\n 'Several times I have resolved to refrain for health's sake, but in\n a short time found such an uneasy feeling about not doing as much\n as I might, that I had to give it up and go at it. I _never_ feel\n that I have done as much as I might, and when I am doing most I\n feel best.'\n\nVery dissatisfied with his progress, and stung one day by a remark of\nGrant's to the effect that he did not seem to speak Mongolian readily,\nGilmour changed his plans. He resolved to go out upon the Plain, and\npersuade some Mongol to allow him to share his tent. On December 13,\n1870, he left Kiachta and journeyed out into Mongolia to the first\ncluster of tents, named Olau Bourgass. There he found a friendly Mongol.\n'Grant's contractor. Found him at his prayers. He motioned me to sit\ndown, and when his devotions were finished he gave me a warm welcome. He\nlives alone in his tent, having nothing to care for but the horses for\nthe courier service, and a couple of lamas[2] to attend to his wants,\none of whom goes with the letters when they come. We talked, and I\nlearned a great deal, when at last I broke my mind to him, and was glad\nto find that he received it favourably. I settled to remain there during\nthe night. Nothing very remarkable happened except that we were invaded\nby a great blustering lama, intoxicated. He came ramping into the tent\nas if he would have knocked everything down. After a time he went away\nand lodged in the next hut. I went to bed about ten and slept well,\nthough my feet were cold towards morning.'\n\n[2] A lama is a priest of the lama section of Buddists. More than half\nthe population of Mongolia are lamas.\n\nThe next three months were passed mainly in this tent. Gilmour used,\nwhenever possible, to return to Kiachta to spend the Sunday at Grant's\nhouse; but by enduring the hardships and suffering all the\ninconveniences of ordinary Mongol life he rapidly acquired the\ncolloquial, and he also made an indelible impression upon the minds and\nhearts of the natives, who ever afterwards spoke of him as 'Our\nGilmour.' He saw Mongol life as it was, free from all the illusion and\nromance sometimes thrown around it. He became intimately acquainted with\nthe various Mongol types, and he began to enter into the native habits\nof thought. His diary contains many a scene like the following:--\n\n 'I gave the lama a book on Saturday, and when I came back on\n Tuesday I found he had read it through twice. He set upon me with\n questions, getting me to admit premises, and then reasoned from\n them. Christ being at the right hand of God was a great point with\n him. If God has no form, how can anyone be at His right hand? Then,\n again, if God is everywhere, Christ is everywhere right and left of\n God, and how can that be?\n\n 'The omnipresence was a staggerer. Was God in that pot, in the\n tent, in his boot? Did he tread upon God? Then was God inside the\n kettle? Did the hot tea not scald Him? Again, if God was inside the\n kettle, the kettle was living! And so he held it up to the laughing\n circle as a new species of animal. I asked him if a fly were inside\n the kettle, would the kettle be alive? \"No,\" he said; \"but a fly\n does not fill the space as God must do.\" \"Well, then,\" said I, \"is\n my coat alive because I fill it?\" This settled the question.'\n\nIn March 1871 he visited Selenginsk and Onagen Dome, the scene of the\nlabours of Stallybrass and Swan from 1817 to 1841, and then he took a\nrun into Siberia, crossing Lake Baikal and visiting Irkutsk. At the\nlatter place he reviews the past few months:--\n\n 'Another week has passed over my head with many hopes and fears.\n This day, a week ago, I was nearing Ana in doubt as to many things;\n now I am in Irkutsk, having my path marked with mercies. In many\n points of my journey I expected difficulties which might have\n stopped me short in my path, but all these have disappeared, and I\n am here, having succeeded beyond expectations. One thing is not\n right: my readiness to forget the ways in which God has helped me.\n Sometimes for weeks and months I look forward to some crisis which\n is coming; it comes off well, and in two days I am as if I had\n forgotten that to which I had looked forward with so much\n apprehension. In this manner I am not only guilty of ingratitude,\n but lose much joy and strength of faith and hope. What should make\n me more happy than the thought of the helps and deliverances that\n God has vouchsafed me; and in troubles present and to come, what\n can give me more faith and courage than to remember that out of\n such troubles I was delivered before?\n\n 'One thing I sometimes think of. I left Britain with no intention\n of travelling; I expected to settle down quietly and confine myself\n to a circle I could impress. This plan has been completely changed\n and overruled. Two months have I been in Peking; two weeks have I\n been in Kalgan; a month have I been in the desert; a month have I\n been in Kudara, a small Russian frontier military post; a month and\n a half have I been in Kiachta; two months have I been in Mongolia;\n and now two weeks have I been travelling in Russia. A year and a\n month have elapsed since I left home, and during that time I have\n been walking to and fro on the face of the earth, and going up and\n down in it. In this way I have not found my life at all dull, but\n very stirring. Indeed, many people would have left home to travel\n as I have done. I sought it not; it came, and I took it. So as yet\n I have no hardships to complain of. To see the places and things I\n have seen--Liverpool, Wales, Rock of Lisbon, Gibraltar, Malta,\n Egypt, Port Said, Canal, Suez, Red Sea, Cape Gardafui, Indian\n Ocean, Penang, Straits of Malacca, Singapore, Hong Kong, Shanghai,\n Tientsin, Peking, Kalgan, Desert, Urga, Kiachta, Russia, Baikal,\n Irkutsk--only even to see these, men will make long journeys. I\n have seen them all without seeking them, with the exception of\n Baikal and Irkutsk. These are all by the way, and I dwell upon them\n as proofs that God, in sending His servants from home and kindred,\n often gives them pleasure and worldly enjoyment on the way, which\n He does not promise, and which they have no right to expect.'\n\nAfter another but briefer sojourn at Olau Bourgass he set out on his\nreturn journey, visited Urga, then crossed the great plain on horseback\nin the course of fourteen days, and reached Kalgan on June 11. After a\nrest there he made two excursions into Mongolia, visiting Lama Miao,\none of the great Mongol religious centres, in the first; and occupying\nsome weeks with a further spell of Mongol tent life during the second.\n\nHis diary, under date of September 22, 1871, while he was resting at\nKalgan, thus sums up his experiences:--\n\n 'I desire to-day to look back on the way by which the Lord has led\n me for the last year. In September 1870 I was looking out eagerly,\n anxiously for someone who was going to Russia, that I might go with\n him. I could find no one. I made it a subject of prayer, and at\n last, when I was on my knees, in came McCoy to tell me of a Russian\n who was going up without delay. I saw the Russian, and arranged to\n go, and started. \"While they are speaking I will answer them.\"\n\n 'On the journey between Peking and Kalgan I was alone, I may say,\n and could speak little Chinese, yet I got on very well; and though\n my money was in a box on the back of a donkey, yet it came in all\n safe, none lost. In Kalgan I had difficulty at first about finding\n camels, but at length the Russian postmaster turned out to be going\n home. The time when was uncertain, quite; his departure depended on\n the coming of his successor. I prayed about this, and one day was\n informed that the successor had arrived much sooner than was\n expected, and that we were to start in a day or two. We did start,\n and after a prosperous journey arrived safely at Kiachta.\n\n 'There I found Grant and Hegemann, two Englishmen. I went to live\n in Grant's country house at Kudara. A difficulty arose about a\n teacher. I prayed about this, and strolling along came upon a tent\n in which was a man who was out of employment, and he being\n educated, I engaged him to be my teacher. In Kiachta, after some\n delay, I got a teacher, but not to my satisfaction. After I had\n been with him a time Grant remarked one day that I did not seem to\n be making much progress in the language. This stung me to the\n quick, and made me go down into Mongolia. Here I was directed to\n the tent of Grant's contractor, and with him I made arrangements to\n live. I thank God for not permitting me to get a good teacher in\n Kiachta. Had I got a good teacher there, I would simply have\n remained there, and I am sure would not have learned half as much\n of the language as I did in the tent at Mongolia, would have got\n none of the insight I gained into the style of Mongolian life, and\n would not have got the introduction I had there to numerous\n Mongols. At the time I was immensely chagrined that I could not get\n a proper teacher, but now, after the lapse of only a few months, I\n can see good reason for thanking God for leading me by that way.\n This should teach me to trust God more than I do when things seem\n to thwart my purpose.\n\n 'Again, I was under a great disappointment about the delay that\n occurred in the sending of my passport from Peking. In consequence\n of its not coming I was unable to go to Urga with Lobsung and\n Sherrub in February. I felt it much at the time, but some months\n after (in June) I learned that these men with whom I wanted to go\n suffered excessively on the road; so much so that, had I gone with\n them, I might have got my feet frozen and died with the cold. Here\n again I have to praise God for not giving me my own way.\n\n \"Thy way, not mine, O Lord;\n However dark it be.\"\n\n 'Then, again, I had long desired to visit the scene of the former\n Siberian Mission, and through the mercy of Providence I was\n permitted to do this. My journey back through the desert also was\n marked by mercies. Truly I may stand and say,\n\n \"When all Thy mercies, O my God,\n My rising soul surveys,\n Transported with the view, I'm lost\n In wonder, love, and praise.\"'\n\n\n\nAfter his wanderings even Kalgan was a haven of rest, and he had secured\nthere a base of operations. 'Now,' he writes, 'that I have got my study\nwindow pasted up, and a nice little stove set going, it seems so\ncomfortable that it would be snug to stay where I am. But comfort is not\nthe missionary's rule. My object in going into Mongolia at this time is\nto have an opportunity of reviewing and extending my knowledge of the\ncolloquial, which has become a little rusty consequent upon its disuse\nto a great extent while here, trying to get up the written.'\n\nAll who are even superficially acquainted with Chinese matters know how\ndifficult it is to acquire the colloquial, and still more the written\nlanguage. Mongolian is not nearly so difficult, but it presents a task\nneeding vigour of intellect and strength of will. Both of these Gilmour\npossessed in a measure far above the average.\n\n'In the written,' he states on October 7, 1871, 'I am still far from at\nhome. Most of the Bible I can read slowly and at sight. Many words I can\nwrite. I think I could write a bad letter myself alone. The other day I\ndid so. My teacher said it was well written, and said also he rejoiced\nin the progress of his scholar; but I put this down to mere politeness.'\n\nDuring this visit he stayed in the tent of a Mongol named Mahabul, who\nlived there with his wife and an only son, a lama. They were all much\naddicted to the use of whisky.\n\n '_October 14, '71._--To-day rose before the sun, read words, wrote\n at the account of my journey from Urga, went to the mountain for\n devotion, revisited the silver worker, who is making the bride's\n ornaments, dined, visited the Norying's lama son, who fell from a\n horse and broke his leg, had tea, and went to visit tents a mile or\n two to the south. There found, as master of the tent, a blackman (a\n layman) I had seen before, and as visitor a lama I had left in\n Mahabul's tent when I went out. From one thing to another we got to\n speak of God and His book. At last they asked me to read them a\n portion. I read in English a few verses, and then gave them the\n parable of the Prodigal Son in Mongol colloquial. I also gave them\n a specimen of a sermon, and explained shortly the nature of God,\n when they all seemed pleased. The lama finished up the thing by\n saying, \"Your outward appearance differs from us, but inwardly you\n agree with us.\" Coming home I felt amply repaid for all the\n uncomfort and solitude, and leading a Mongol life, by the\n comparative ease with which I can converse with them, and the\n manner in which they wonder at my proficiency in the colloquial.'\n\nIn his official report he rapidly summarises the achievements of the\nlast nine months:--\n\n 'By the middle of February I had a limited knowledge of the\n colloquial, picked up from listening to and joining in the\n conversation going on among the inmates of the tent at Olau\n Bourgass, and those with the numerous visitors who took occasion to\n call on my lama, who was rather a famous man. At the end of\n February the lama returned south to Urga, and I went back into\n Russia, and got a Buriat teacher. This individual, however, turned\n out so incredibly lazy, and I felt so dull alone in my large\n comfortable rooms, after the friendly bustle and crowd of the\n little tent, with its cheery fire, that I could not stand it. So I\n got my teacher and myself into a tarantass, and went off to visit\n the scenes of the former mission in Siberia. My teacher proved very\n useful. He spoke Russian very well, I spoke Mongolian to him, and\n thus we travelled, the doubtful wonder of all Russians, who could\n not understand how a man not born a Buriat could get acquainted\n with that language, and yet know no Russian. After visiting the\n converts, partly for the sake of diverting the curious eyes of the\n Russians from the great aim of my journey and partly in the\n traveller's spirit, I turned westward and crossed the Baikal on the\n ice, and remained a few days in the capital of Siberia, Irkutsk. On\n returning to Kiachta I found another teacher, and went out for\n another month into Mongolia and tent life. All the while that I was\n in Mongolia I used to return to Kiachta once a week, usually on\n Saturday, and abide in the land of habitations till Monday.\n\n 'Early in May I started for the south. I had intended to remain\n over the summer in Urga, but unexpected difficulties turned up, and\n led me to decide on going down to Kalgan at once. From Urga to\n Kalgan (600 miles) was done on horseback, accompanied by a single\n Mongol; and as we carried no luggage, we had to depend on the\n hospitality of the Mongols for lodging and cooking, or, as they\n call the latter, \"pot and ladle.\"\n\n 'In this way I saw a very great deal of tent life during the twelve\n or thirteen days the ride lasted. I got into Kalgan just two days\n before the rainy season came on (June 15), and having, after\n difficulty, secured a teacher, passed the summer in Kalgan studying\n the book language and practising writing. In October I went up\n again to the grassland and spent some weeks revising my knowledge\n of the colloquial and observing the difference between the northern\n and southern manner of speaking. I finally left Mongolia in a\n furious storm on the morning of November 1, and re-entered Peking\n November 9.'\n\nGilmour on his return was naturally an object of great interest to all\nthe missionary and to some of the official community. He soon settled\ndown to the study of Chinese, and to such mission work as he could\nusefully engage in during the winter at Peking. A letter to the writer,\nunder date of January 21, 1872, enables us to realise somewhat the life\nof this period:--\n\n 'My dear Lovett,--Though I acknowledged receipt of your last\n welcome epistle, I am aware I owe you a return, and here it is ...\n I have thought that perhaps an account of how a Sabbath goes in\n Peking might not be uninteresting, and I'll just confine myself to\n to-day. Well, this morning, on getting up, I found my stove was\n out. This is a very unusual thing, but it just happens once, say,\n in three weeks. The thermometer was about 5\u221e. The first thing after\n getting dressed was not to call my servant, as you might suppose,\n but to go in quest of letters. A mail had come in the night before,\n but I had returned home too late last night to see it. So I went\n over to Dr. Dudgeon's house before he was up, prowled about till I\n found the mail, but there was nothing for me. I returned to my cold\n room, and was there till the breakfast-bell rang. I board with\n Edkins, and to go there is a pleasant break in the monotony.\n\n 'On coming back to my quarters I found the room full of smoke,\n doors and windows open, my boy on his knees fussing about the\n stove, and saying, _Moo too poo shing_--\"the wood won't do.\" I saw\n at once that that would not do for me, so I buttoned up my coat and\n went out on to the great street for a walk. The street on which we\n live, the Ha Ta Mun (great street), runs north and south, and a\n cold wind was blowing down the road, carrying clouds of dust with\n it. Through the dust, however, were visible the paraphernalia of\n two funerals, one going north, the other going south. They met just\n opposite our place. That going south was much the grander of the\n two, and had a long procession of people carrying emblematical\n devices, honorific umbrellas, drums, gongs, and musical\n instruments. Ever and anon a man took quantities of paper discs\n with square holes cut in the centre and scattered them to the north\n wind. The papers are supposed to represent cash, and were scrambled\n for eagerly by the urchins, though they could be valuable only as\n waste paper. In the procession also was carried the chair in which\n the deceased used to ride, his mule cart also figured conspicuous,\n and then came the mourners.\n\n 'As you know, mourning garb in China is _white_, and I noticed that\n some of the mourners had adopted a neat device. All Chinamen who\n can afford to be warm in winter wear robes lined inside with fur. A\n rich robe is lined with fine material, but the common thing is\n white lambskin. Well, these fellows simply become turn-coats for\n the time, and put on their fur robes inside out, and thus were in\n the fashion. The coffin itself was laid in a magnificent bier\n towering high, surmounted by a gilt top piece, hung with silks, and\n borne by forty-eight bearers.\n\n 'Of course everything has to make way for the funeral. The Peking\n streets are very wide, and at the same time very narrow. In the\n centre and high up is a cart road with an up and a down line, along\n the sides of this are ditches and holes, beyond these ditches and\n holes is another way more or less passable, and beyond that again\n the shops. The funeral procession took the crown of the road, crept\n along at its snail's pace, while the traffic took to the side\n roads.\n\n 'After a good long walk among stalls and wheelbarrows I got back to\n my abode, found a good fire, and that it was high time to go to the\n Chinese service. I don't understand all I hear, but I understand\n some, and make a point of hearing one and sometimes two Chinese\n sermons on the Sabbath. An old Chinaman was preaching, and I could\n see from the manner of the congregation that he was securing the\n fixed attention of his hearers. Before the sermon was ended there\n was a bustle at the door, and in came three Mongols with my Chinese\n card. They were asked to wait till the service was concluded, then\n I took them to my quarters and had some conversation with them. One\n of them had come for the doctor, and wished to get cured of so\n prosaic a disease as the itch.\n\n 'Before I was finished with them, my servant came to say that\n another Mongol had called for me and was waiting for me in\n Edkins's. When I went over I found an old Mongol, a blackman,\n fifty-eight years of age. This layman was named Am\u2030sa, and has been\n in the habit of paying Mr. Edkins visits every winter when he comes\n down to Peking. Last year he did not come, and we were concluding\n that he had died. Of course we were glad to see him. I got him into\n my room and we had quite an afternoon of it. The old man knew a\n good deal about Christianity, and I gave him what additional\n instruction I could. Of all the Mongols I have seen he is, perhaps,\n the most ready to receive instruction.\n\n 'It was quite late in the afternoon before he left, and I had just\n time to take a walk at sunset and be back in time for dinner.\n Immediately after that the people began to assemble for evening\n service. This is held every Sabbath evening in Mr. Edkins's\n parlour. Upwards of twenty usually compose the congregation. The\n missionaries take the service in turn. After service the mass of\n the congregation separated, but one man came with me to my room,\n and there we sat talking till midnight, when my visitor rose to\n depart.\n\n 'There, you see, I have given you the history of one Sabbath in\n Peking. It is a pretty fair sample of what goes on here very\n frequently. However, when I find myself free on the afternoon I\n accompany Mr. Edkins to some one of the two chapels, which are in\n distant parts of the city. I do not go so much to hear him preach\n as to have his conversation on the way there and back, and, as you\n may suppose, we sometimes stumble upon an argument, and this makes\n it quite lively.'\n\nThe self-denying and arduous labours of his first sojourn in Mongolia\nhad given to James Gilmour a knowledge of the language and an\nacquaintance with the nomadic Mongols of the Plain far in excess of that\npossessed by any other European. But even then, as also at a later date,\nthe question was raised whether more fruitful work might not be done\namong the agricultural Mongols inhabiting the country to the north-east\nof Peking. Hence, on April 16, 1872, he started on his first journey\nthrough the district in which in later years the closing labours of his\nlife were to be accomplished. He spent thirty-seven days in this\npreliminary tour, and travelled about 1,000 miles.\n\nGilmour's first estimate of this region as a field of missionary\nenterprise, expressed on April 25, 1872, remained true to the end, even\nthough in later years the exceptional difficulties of work among the\nnomads induced him at last, as we shall see, to settle among the\nagricultural Mongols:--\n\n 'Though I saw a good many Mongol houses, yet I must say, I do not\n feel much drawn to them in preference to the nomad Mongols. The\n only possible recommendation I can think of is that, coming among\n them, I might go and put up for some days at a time in a Chinese\n inn. This would save me from great trouble in getting\n introductions, and it might be less expensive. The great objection\n I have to them is that, though a mission were established among\n them, it would be more a mission in China than anywhere else. The\n Mongols in these agricultural villages speak Chinese to a man, and\n I cannot help feeling that, since there are so many missionaries in\n Peking speaking the Chinese language, these Mongols fall to them,\n and not to me.'\n\nSoon after his return from this trip into Eastern Mongolia, Mr. Gilmour\nsent home an elaborate report upon the conditions and prospects of the\nMongol Mission. He deals with the whole question of the work, showing\nwhy, in his opinion, the _agricultural_ Mongols should be evangelised by\nChinese missionaries. Mr. Edkins and others thought that Gilmour should\nundertake that labour, but after having seen more than any missionary of\nboth regions and classes of Mongols, on the ground that he was the man\n'who had to go and begin,' he decided for the Plain.\n\nEven at this early date Mr. Gilmour urged repeatedly and strenuously\nupon the Directors the pressing need he felt for a colleague. And thus\nearly began the long series of seeming fatalities that prevented him\nfrom ever receiving this joy and strength. Partly from the needs of the\nPeking Mission, and partly from respect to a notion which the American\nBoard of Foreign Missions had that their occupancy of Kalgan, on the\nextreme southern limit, constituted _all_ Mongolia into one of their\nfields of work, the Rev. S. E. Meech, Mr. Gilmour's old college friend,\nwho had been designated as his first colleague, was stationed at Peking.\nWith reference to this, in closing the report above referred to, Gilmour\nwrote:--\n\n 'Mr. Meech's perversion from Mongolia to China is much to be\n deplored. I think it would be wrong in me not to inform you of the\n true state of matters, and to remind you that it is little short of\n nonsense to speak of reopening the Mongolian Mission so long as\n there is only one man in the field. I am fully aware of the\n difficulty of finding suitable men, and most fully sympathise with\n you, but don't let us delude ourselves with the idea of Mongol\n Mission work progressing till another man or two come and put their\n shoulder to the wheel. All that I can do I am quite willing to do,\n but my own progress is most seriously hampered because I am alone.'\n\nHis whole subsequent life is evidence of the splendid way in which\nGilmour justified these words, yet perhaps no legitimate blame can be\nlaid at the door of the Directors of the London Missionary Society. Both\nthe friends and the critics of missions are sometimes more ready to\ntabulate converts than to ponder and estimate aright the difficulties\nand drawbacks of the work. But in any estimate of the comparative\nsuccess and failure of the Mongol Mission it should be borne in mind\nthat Gilmour never really had a colleague. He never even had a companion\nfor his work on the Plain, except his heroic and devoted wife. And in\nlater years circumstances over which the Directors could exercise little\nor no control successively deprived him of the fellowship, after a very\nbrief experience, of Dr. Roberts and Dr. Smith.\n\nIn the summer of this year, in the company of Mr. Edkins, he visited the\nsacred city of Woo T'ai Shan, a famous place of Mongol pilgrimage.\n\nAn amusing illustration of his well-known love of argument occurred on\nthis trip. In Mr. Edkins he found a foeman in all respects worthy of\nhis dialectic steel. Chinese mules will only travel in single file, even\nwhere the roads are wide enough to allow of their travelling abreast,\nand as Gilmour's went in front of that ridden by Mr. Edkins, he used to\nride with his face to the tail of his beast, and thus the more readily\nand continuously conduct the argument then engaging their attention.\n\nIn November he tried the experiment of living at the Yellow Temple in\nPeking during the winter, in order that he might meet and converse with\nthe numerous Mongols who visit the capital every year. Here he not only\nmade new friends, but he also frequently renewed acquaintance with those\nhe had met on the Plain. These visited him in his compound, and were\noccasionally a weariness and vexation to him, inasmuch as they very\nfrequently severely tried his patience, without affording him the\ncomfort of knowing that the good tidings of the 'Jesus book' were\nfinding an entrance into their dark minds and hard hearts.\n\nIn a letter to an intimate college friend, the Rev. T. T. Matthews of\nMadagascar, which he wrote, November 21, 1872, he vividly describes this\npart of his work, giving some of his typical experiences:--\n\n 'I am writing in the Yellow Temple, about a mile and a half from\n Peking, and three or four miles from our mission premises. I have\n rented a room, brought my Chinaman servant, and live as a Chinaman,\n all but the clothes and the paganism. The reason of all this is\n that near here, and in this temple, numerous Mongols put up when\n they come from Mongolia to Peking. Our premises being three or four\n miles away, and in a busy part of the town, the Mongols can't\n easily find our place; so if they can't come to me I just go to\n them. I came here yesterday, and can't tell yet how I may get on.\n Mongols are shy in Peking, and even out here a little difficult of\n access; but I must do what I can, and have patience.\n\n 'Just now a company of eight or ten have arrived and put up, three\n or four of them in the same court with me, the others in a place\n close by. These are likely enough to come to see me; of course I'll\n go and see them. You in Madagascar, I suppose, can't realise what\n it is to be a missionary to a people whom you can't approach\n without difficulty. Here the difficulty does not end; those I can\n catch don't care one straw for Christianity. They have a system\n which quite satisfies them, and what more do they want? Such is\n their feeling, so you see I have got quite plenty to do; a hard\n enough task, even the human part of it. But don't mistake, I am not\n bewailing my lot, for that I have neither time nor inclination; I\n am only telling you about my state.\n\n 'I don't believe much in people talking about what they mean to do\n in the future, but perhaps you will permit me to say that I would\n like to start for Mongolia again in February or March. I have got a\n sheepskin coat, so need not fear the cold. I perhaps may take with\n me a stock of made-up medicines for specific diseases which are\n common, and this may make an introduction in some cases at least.\n Dr. Dudgeon has on our premises in Peking a hospital well attended\n by Chinamen, and I go there sometimes and see how he doses them.\n\n 'Now let me tell you a little about the inner life of Mongols.\n People travelling through Mongolia wake up in the morning as their\n camel-cart passes some rural encampment; they rub their eyes and\n say, \"How pleasant it would be to live in Mongolia like these\n Mongols, free from care and the anxiety of busy life. They have\n only their sheep, &c., to look after.\" This reflection is\n accompanied with a sigh when they reflect on their own hard lot.\n Now the fact of the matter is, these travellers know nothing about\n it. They may print as much as they like about the pastoral felicity\n of the simplicity of Mongol life; it is all humbug. Last night, two\n Mongols whom I know well, a petty chief named \"Myriad Joy\" and his\n scribe named \"Mahabul\" (I can't translate this last), came into my\n room, and we had a tea-spree there and then. The two have been for\n fifteen days in Peking on Government duty, and last night their\n business was finished, and they were to mount their camels and head\n north this morning. The chief gets from Peking about 30_l._ a year,\n the scribe about 4_l._; and when they come thus on duty their\n allowances, though small, enable them to make a little over and\n above their salaries. The chief can stand no small amount of\n Chinese whisky. I suspect he is deep in debt, and am sure that he\n could pay his debt two or three times over if he only had the money\n it took to paint his nose. The scribe was one of my teachers in\n Mongolia. I lived in his house some time, and know only too well\n about his affairs. He is hopelessly in debt. He had a large family\n once, but now they are all dead except one married daughter and one\n lama son about seventeen years of age, and good for nothing. His\n \"old woman,\" as the Mongol idiom has it, is still alive, and fond\n of whisky, like her husband. If they had only been teetotalers they\n might have now been comfortable; such, at least, is my impression.\n I shall say nothing about what I saw in his tent, and confine\n myself to last night and this morning.\n\n 'Drinking my tea last night, Mahabul (the scribe) says to me: \"My\n chief here won't lend me nine shillings to buy a sheepskin coat for\n my old woman, therefore she must be frozen to death in the winter;\n my chief won't lend _me_ anything, other people he lends.\" The\n chief said nothing for a while; but the scribe went on harping on\n this string, till at last the chief launched out right and left on\n his scribe, shouting loud enough for all the compound to hear. The\n scribe took it coolly, and stopped him, saying: \"Enough, enough; it\n is past, it is past; my old woman can die, all die; no matter.\"\n This did not soothe the irate chief at all, and a minute or two\n later a furious quarrel broke out between them about something\n else. The storm raged a long time, and in my room too, while they\n were my guests! After some time the scribe left the room to attend\n to the camels, when the chief confided to me his opinion of his\n scribe. Later the chief left the room, and the scribe confided to\n me his opinion of his chief; and I must say that the two seemed\n well matched, with very little to choose between. The freedom with\n which they spoke of each other was partly to be accounted for by\n the fact that both were more or less drunk.\n\n 'The chief squared up his accounts with the people about here, and\n showed me in the scribe's absence a small parcel of silver which he\n had reserved for use on the road. He showed it me under strict\n injunctions not to tell the scribe. The scribe had more difficulty\n in squaring up _his_ account. The last item that stuck in his\n throat was a little bill his son had left. This son had started a\n day or two before, and of course the father was responsible for the\n debt. How he was to pay it he did not know, as he had not a single\n cash about him. The Chinaman of the place threatened to detain him,\n and the scribe laughed a bitter laugh at the idea. After a great\n row they went off to sleep.\n\n 'This morning early the scribe was at me before I was dressed. It\n was the small debt again. The Chinaman knew better than to seize\n the man; that would not have paid; he seized his coat, and actually\n was detaining that as ransom for a sum equal to fourpence English!\n He made a direct appeal to me to pay it, and of course I did it;\n though I was a little disgusted with the man's meanness, as I had\n given him a present of money amounting to about 1_l._ a few days\n before. This son of his is a great eyesore to me. He is a young\n lama, about as wicked a boy as I know. His brothers died of\n consumption, and this fact enables him to do anything he likes with\n his parents. If they refuse anything, he has only to feign\n sickness, and they are in a huge state over him. He is a thoroughly\n bad lad. Will not work, will not study, will do nothing but make\n trouble and expense for his parents. Just fancy! His father and\n mother are poor as church mice; and when his father was coming to\n Peking the boy must beg to come too, and the father like a fool\n must take him, and be at great expense for travelling, &c. One\n thing made me furious. Out of the money I gave him he spent about\n 4_s._ or more buying his good-for-nothing son an elegant\n snuff-bottle. In short, the man's folly makes it utterly useless to\n help him. I once before relieved him from threatened detention for\n debt for the amount of twopence-halfpenny, just after I had made\n him a present, and I expect perhaps to have to do so again. What\n astonishes me is that the Mongols _can_ get into debt so far. I\n don't believe my Mongol can pass a single man he knows without\n being in danger of being dunned for some hopeless debt or other.\n And yet his debt does not seem to distress him. He is most\n distressed because people will not lend him more money.\n\n 'The last of the chiefs was rather rich. He is (he says) to have a\n profitable piece of Government work in hand in spring, and on the\n strength of that wanted me to lend him now a shoe of silver, about\n 15_l._, to be repaid to me in spring. Of course I did not. He then,\n though my guest, kept on saying, \"Heart small, heart small,\" which\n pretty much amounts to saying, \"Coward, coward.\" He finally took\n revenge by offering to lend _me_ a shoe of silver in spring, but\n of course I declined. A pretty pair they are! If what they say be\n true, in spring they may make a good thing of it; but this has\n happened to the scribe before, and in two months after he was as\n poor as ever. In short, they are foolish and thriftless.\n\n 'While I have been writing this letter I have overheard my Chinese\n servant saying, in reply to a question from a Chinaman, \"There is\n such a thing as a preaching letter: you can preach by a letter.\" So\n I am going now to preach. Don't get weary; stick to it. Don't be\n lazy, but don't be in a hurry. Slow but sure; stick to it. We have\n no great effort to make, but rather to stick to it patiently. \"_No\n good work is lost_,\" Sir William Thomson used to say in his\n philosophy class, and it is eminently true in our case. (I wish\n these Chinamen would hold their tongue.) All our good work will be\n found, there is no doubt about that. All I am afraid of is that our\n good work will amount to little when it is found. (These Chinamen\n are a bore.) I sometimes think that if all we say be true, as it\n is, that men at last shall stand before God--and we shall see them\n after they know that all we say is true--and they will pitch into\n us for not pitching into them more savagely; for not, in fact,\n taking them by the \"cuff\" of the neck and dragging them into the\n kingdom of God. I speak now of our countrymen and foreigners. As\n regards heathen, they too shall stand revealed; and their mud gods\n also, and rotten superstitions, shall stand revealed: how then\n shall we feel when they shall look at us and blame us for not\n waking them up more vigorously? An infidel has said that if he\n could believe that men's future state depended at all upon what was\n done in this life, he would let nothing hinder him from being up\n and at men. He would be content to be counted a madman--anything,\n if only he could do anything to make men's state better in the\n world to come. (I wish these Chinamen would shut up; I came here to\n meet Mongols, and I am like to be flooded out by Chinamen whose\n language I only half understand.)\n\n 'Now, _we believe_: how much do we do? Are there not some men whom\n we might stir up who now escape? Could we do more? Are not souls\n valuable enough for us to face anything if only we can save some?\n Let us look to the end, or rather let us look at the present. In\n the room in which I now write (the Chinamen have gone) is Jesus,\n where you read this is Jesus: He stands and looks to us. He has\n given up the clean heaven, and walked here and lived among dirt and\n poverty, in solitude, misunderstood, without one intelligent\n friend; He has borne the scorn of men, He has been put to the\n horrible and shameful death of the cross, _all to save us_ and\n others. We trust Him, He saves us; and all He asks is that we\n should tell men about what He has done; and is there one man we\n meet to whom we shall not speak? shall Christ look to us in vain to\n declare simply what He has done? Perish the thought! Whatever may\n be between us and speaking to men, let us go through it. If it be a\n foreign language, remember Christ lived thirty years in\n preparation. If it be hardship, cold, poor food, scorn, slight,\n deaf ears--never mind, go ahead. Christ looks to us to go ahead, or\n _come_ ahead, for He has gone through it all. Trouble, hardship,\n trial, suffering,--all will soon pass and be done. And is there a\n trouble or hardship we have yet surmounted for Christ's sake that\n does not seem sweet to look back on? Then, come what likes, let us\n face it; or, if we be overwhelmed, let us be overwhelmed with\n undaunted faces looking in the right direction. By the mercy of God\n may we be saved; and if saved how splendid it will be--no trouble,\n no trial, no indigestible beef and brick-tea: everything _better\n than_ we could wish it, and complete joy.\n\n 'All this is not imagination or rhetoric, but _really before_ us;\n so, by the strength which Christ gives, let us go on to it. Pray\n for me. I pray for you; and if we don't meet on earth, you know\n the trysting-place, \"_the right-hand side_.\"'\n\nIt can readily be seen that, under conditions of the kind sketched in\nthis letter, time was not likely to hang heavily on his hands.\nInterviews like the following were held from time to time, and were not\nonly encouraging and hopeful but reacted strongly upon his own heart and\nbrain:--\n\n 'This afternoon (Sabbath, November 24), I met Toobshing Baier in\n the dispensary of the London Mission Hospital. At first I could not\n remember the man. The face I knew. After a time his name came out\n without, I flatter myself, his perceiving that I was fishing for\n it. He was most anxious to see the doctor's medical instruments and\n appliances. After he had seen quite a number of these, he came to\n my room, and we sat down for a talk which lasted nearly from 5 to 7\n o'clock. He began by reading a part of the rough draft of the new\n translation of St. Matthew in Mongolian, which happened to be lying\n on my table. He suggested that in place of \"prophet,\" a word which\n has been transferred bodily, we should use _juoug beelikty_. He\n also remarked that our translation of \"the foal of an ass\" was not\n the thing, and gave the word he thought was right. He was\n accompanied by a young lama, who agreed with him in this\n suggestion. The lama seemed well up, read Mongolian as easily as\n Toobshing himself, and when Toobshing gave the Thibetan word for\n _juoug beelikty_, the lama looked over his shoulder, spied a book\n on a shelf, took it, found the place at once, and showed me the\n Thibetan and Mongolian side by side.\n\n 'Shortly after this Toobshing set himself up and proposed questions\n and cases such as:\n\n '\"Is hell eternal?\n\n '\"Are all the heathen who have not heard the Gospel damned?\n\n '\"If a man lives without sin, is he damned?\n\n '\"If a man disregards Christ, but worships a supreme God in an\n indefinite way, is he saved or not?\n\n '\"How can Christ save a man?\n\n '\"If a man prays to Christ to save him morn and even, but goes on\n sinning meantime, how about him?\n\n '\"If a man prays for a thing, does he get it?\n\n '\"Do your unbelieving countrymen in England all go to hell?\n\n '\"Are there prophets now?\n\n '\"Is a new-born child a sinner?\n\n '\"Is one man then punished for another's fault?\n\n '\"Has anybody died, gone to heaven or hell, and come back to\n report? [A Mongol has!]\n\n '\"Did Buddha live?\" and so forth.\n\n '[Answer, He lived, but did not do what is now said of him.]\n\n '\"If so, how do you know that the account of Christ is not made up\n in the same way? Could not the disciples conspire to make the\n Gospels?\n\n 'To these and all other questions I endeavoured to give proper\n answers; and this, our most delightful and profitable talk, lasted\n till there was just time for me to snatch a hasty meal before the\n usual service at 7.30 P.M.'\n\nDiscussions of this nature were calculated to deepen thought and to\npromote heart-searching on the part of the Christian worker. They also\nillustrate some of the special difficulties which missionaries in China\nand India have to meet. With an elaborate religious ritual and\nliterature, both Buddhist and Hindu can often, and do often, object\nagainst Christianity many of those, sometimes obvious, sometimes\nsubtle, difficulties which the Gospel of Jesus Christ alone can remove,\nand which it removes by sanctifying and dominating the heart.\n\nIn February 1873 Gilmour visited Tientsin for the first time since he\npassed through it on his arrival in China. Here he took part in several\nreadings, temperance meetings, and religious services. At one of the\nreadings:--\n\n 'One joke happened. I was asked to give a recitation at a penny\n reading for sailors. The piece was \"The Execution of Montrose.\" I\n got up in tragic style, said,\n\n \"Come hither, Evan Cameron,\"\n\n with the appropriate beckoning action, when a sailor in the middle\n of the audience responded to the call, pressed his way out of the\n passage, and was making for the platform. I could not stand this,\n so I uttered a yell, and rushed off to hide myself, and it was some\n time before the audience and speaker could compose themselves for a\n fresh start Next day we were told that the unfortunate sailor was\n beckoned to come hither from all parts of the ship.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE FIRST CAMPAIGN IN MONGOLIA\n\n\nIn 1873 Gilmour resumed his visits to the Plain and on March 15 he was\nat Kalgan, writing, 'No appearance of getting away to the north. I\npromenade daily the streets and accost Mongols, but with no success as\nto getting camels, or even a horse to hire as far as Mahabul's. A day or\ntwo later Mahabul arrived in Kalgan on his way to Peking, and by his aid\nGilmour secured two camels, and on March 24 he started north, reaching\nMahabul's tent on the 28th. He at once endeavoured to secure the\nservices of a Mongol named Lojing, and the usual series of delays and\nvexations occurred.\n\n 'To-day (March 29) I got impatient and went for a walk. Came back,\n and Lojing came and said he would go. Felt relieved; he wants me to\n come back this way, and I consent, though I would rather not. He\n came back in the afternoon, saying that he could not get off his\n engagement to read prayers with some other lama for Gichik's\n soul,[3] so that we cannot start before Thursday at noon. Mahabul's\n wife gave him some whisky, and he went to the officers and got\n drunk. He waited for a camel which was offered for sale. The camel\n came when I was out. He was drunk, did not watch it, so it drifted\n away before the storm. A boy on horseback was sent after it. When\n it came it was a perfect object, yet they asked twenty taels for\n it. He is to go after a camel to-morrow. He was so drunk that,\n remembering Gichik's fate, I am uneasy to think of his riding my\n tall camel. O Lord, give me patience!'\n\n[3] The son of the chief referred to on page 80, who had recently been\nkilled by a fall from his horse.\n\nThis and the three subsequent journeys over the Plain, made in the\ncourse of 1873, were full of incident illustrative of the difficulties\nof the work, the peculiarities of the people, and the restless energy\nand indomitable perseverance of the missionary. But the limitations of\nspace forbid us to linger; we extract a few notes from the diary. It was\non the second of these journeys, while at Lama Miao, that he witnessed\nthe 'Mirth of Hell,' as he calls it, described in _Among the Mongols_,\nChapter XI.\n\n '_April 19, 1873._--To-day had more provocation from my Mongol, and\n my earnest prayer is that I may be able to stand it all, and not\n get soured in temper and feeling against the Mongols. I must have\n patience. Some knowledge of camel's flesh also would help me not a\n little. As it stands, I feel an incompetent \"duffer.\"'\n\n '_May 6._--Travelled parallel to the road in a stupid manner over\n hill and dale, because Lojing chose to consider it a nearer way.\n The way was no nearer at all and much more steep. At last got to a\n lot of tents down in a hollow, called the \"Great Water\" (_Ihha\n Osso_). Had quite a lot of people. One lama the most provoking\n child (25 years old) I think I ever met. He was a perfect nuisance;\n even the tone of his voice I could not abide. This individual came\n to my tent even after I was down in bed. I was glad he was done for\n once. Next morning he was in my tent before I was up, remarking,\n \"What a great sleeper you are!' Last night he had remarked, \"How\n early you go to bed!\" I am afraid he is the most empty, poor fellow\n I have known.'\n\n '_May 13._--To-day also occurred another of my lama's conspicuous\n stupidities; after asking the road to a set of tents where dwelt\n friends of his own, he suddenly left the road and began the ascent\n of a steep hill. I asked where he was going. He said to the tents.\n I followed some distance, and then from the convergence of paths\n judged that there was no pass where he was going, and accordingly\n shouted to him to stop. Stop he did, and also looked thunder. I\n asked him, \"Have you travelled this way before?\" \"No,\" said he.\n \"Come this way, and follow the road.\" \"You go that road,\" said he,\n \"I go this road.\" \"Nothing of the kind,\" said I. \"You come here,\n and we'll get to tents.\" He came; but then and there began one of\n his intolerable tirades against me, saying how disobedient I was,\n and that _this was his own native place_, he knew. What a bad man I\n was! He had hardly finished his fury when lo, behold, close before\n us, right in our path, the very tents we were looking for! He is,\n to use a Mongol idiom, \"Stupider than stupid.\"'\n\n '_Sept. 12._--We are now in a diphtheria district. I go into it,\n and hope to remain some time, trusting myself to the hands of God.\n I am safe enough in His hands. If He can forward mission work more\n by my death than by my life, His will be done.'\n\n '_Sept. 18._--To-day let pass me, as all were starting from the\n temple, about six men and three women without telling them of\n Jesus.'\n\nAt the close of the year Mr. Gilmour sent home another elaborate report,\na large portion of which appeared in the _Chronicle of the London\nMissionary Society_ for December 1874. We extract here a few paragraphs\nnot then printed for obvious reasons. There was still a difficulty with\nthe American Board, and there was still in London some inability to\ngrasp the exact bearing and the full needs of the situation. The first\nextract is given here simply because it illustrates the noble\nunselfishness of Gilmour's character, and the way in which he\npersistently refused to be stopped by hindrances that would have barred\nthe road against most men. He supplied a statement of account showing\nthat even with the most rigid economy he had exceeded his allowance by\n110 taels, equivalent to from 25_l._ to 30_l._\n\n 'This leaves me with a deficit of 110 taels 63 cents, and explains\n how it is that I ask next year's (1874) grant to be raised to 150\n taels at least. I had only two courses open to me, either to use up\n the grants for 1872 and 1873, and stop without accomplishing all I\n could, or to make full proof of my ministry and exceed the grants.\n Considering the cause more important than silver, I chose the\n latter course, and, despite the most rigid economy, exceeded to the\n above amount. Present circumstances enable me to make up the\n deficit from my own private purse, and I don't ask to be refunded,\n but I don't know that I shall be flush of money next year, and _do_\n ask that the grant may be not less than 150 taels, which is the\n lowest estimate I can make.\n\n 'As proof of the reasonableness of my request, and of my anxiety to\n avoid drawing on the funds of the Society beyond what is absolutely\n necessary, I may be allowed to state that this year, in addition to\n making up the lacking 110-63 taels, I walked afoot behind my\n caravan in the desert for _weeks_, to avoid the expense of\n purchasing another camel.'\n\nOn the question of Christian literature he placed on record some wise\nwords, as needful now almost as when he penned them, in order to correct\nthe notion that it is enough simply to place into the hands of a heathen\na copy of the Word of God in his native tongue. The reply of Candace's\neunuch, 'How can I understand unless someone shall guide me?' meets the\nmissionary of to-day, as it met Philip in the days of old. The\npractically unanimous opinion of the Shanghai Conference held in 1890\nshows that the same need is still strongly felt by the missionaries of\nall the societies.\n\n 'In addition to the Scriptures and the Catechism, I think small\n simple books containing little portions of Scripture history or\n little portions of Scripture teaching would be very useful. The\n Bible is all very well for those who have advanced a little, but\n there is very little of the narrative portions even--the simplest\n parts of the whole book--which you can read without encountering\n terrible names of persons or places, or quotations from the prophet\n Isaiah or Jeremiah. When a Mongol comes upon these he feels\n inclined to give up in despair. Even in China my experience has\n been that people are slow to buy a complete gospel, even at less\n than the paper on which it is printed costs, while they will buy\n with avidity very small books at almost their full value.\n\n 'Chinamen themselves notice this, and when surrounded by a crowd I\n have heard them remark laughingly, \"Small books go quick.\"\n Remembering my instructions, which among other things say, \"Pause\n before you translate,\" I have hitherto refrained, but now have a\n very small illustrated narrative in the press, another also\n illustrated in manuscript, and other two not illustrated in\n contemplation. If I find funds--the Peking branch of the Tract\n Society is bankrupt just now--and get them out, you shall have\n specimens. Probably they won't look well, being first attempts, but\n you need not be ashamed of the Mongol of them, as they have been\n written under my direction by a \"crack\" native scholar, and\n carefully revised by Schereschewsky, who is a general linguist of\n good ability, and has paid so much attention to Mongolian that he\n revised the Gospel by Matthew in conjunction with Mr. Edkins, and\n is at present at work on a Mongol dictionary.'\n\nMedical missions were only in their infancy in 1874, and Gilmour in the\nsame report describes what many another has felt. He illustrates also\none of his fixed principles, viz., always do _something_; and never let\nthe work stop simply because you cannot do what is ideally the best.\n\n 'I know very little about diseases and cures, but the little I _do_\n know is extremely useful. Almost every Mongol, man and woman and\n child, has something that wants putting right. To have studied\n medicine at home would have been a great help, but though I cannot\n hope now ever to gain a scientific knowledge of the subject, I am\n glad that in our hospital here I have a good opportunity of\n learning much from Dr. Dudgeon, and all I can do now is to make the\n best of this good opportunity. I am told that professional men at\n home are suspicious of giving a little medical knowledge to young\n men going out as missionaries. I sided with them till I came here,\n but here the case is different. At home it is all very well to\n stand before the fire in your room, within sight of the brass plate\n on the doctor's door on the opposite side of the street, and talk\n about the danger of little knowledge; but when you are two weeks'\n journey from any assistance, and see your fellow-traveller sitting\n silent and swollen with violent toothache for days together, you\n fervently wish you had a pair of forceps and the _dangerous_\n amount of knowledge. And when in remote places you have the choice\n of burying your servant or stopping his diarrh[oe]a, would you\n prefer to talk nonsense about professional skill rather than give\n him a dose of chlorodyne, even though it should be at the risk of\n administering one drop more or less than a man who writes M.D. to\n his name would have done?\n\n 'I speak earnestly and from experience. No one has more detestation\n than I have for the quack that patters in the presence of trained\n skill; but from what I have seen and known of mission life, both in\n myself and others, since coming to North China, I think it is a\n little less than culpable homicide to deny a little hospital\n training to men who may have to pass weeks and months of their\n lives in places where they themselves, or those about them, may\n sicken and die from curable diseases before the doctor could be\n summoned, even supposing he could leave his post and come.'\n\nDuring the summer of 1874 James Gilmour continued his itinerating work\namong the nomads of the Plain. He met with much to discourage him, but\nhe steadily enlarged his knowledge of the people and his acquaintance\nwith the best methods of work among them. How difficult it was to adapt\nordinary methods of teaching to their habits may be judged from the\nfollowing sketch:--\n\n 'My tent is not only my dwelling-house and dispensary, but also my\n chapel. I always endeavour to instruct the visitors and patients as\n far as I can. Preaching to Mongols is a little different from\n preaching at home--a little different from preaching in China even.\n You can get a congregation of heathen Chinese to listen for, say,\n twenty minutes, or half an hour, or even longer; but begin to\n preach to a lot of Mongols, and they begin to talk to each other,\n or perhaps to ask you questions about your dress and your country.\n\n 'The nature of their own service is partly to blame for this. When\n a Mongol sends for a lama or two to read prayers in his tent, the\n inmates, though present, don't think it necessary to attend much to\n what is going on. Though they did attend, they would not be able to\n understand, so talking goes on among them pretty much as usual. If\n I were to stick myself up and begin, and start off sermonising to\n them, I would be treated much as they treat their own lamas; so I\n confine my preaching to conversations and arguments--a style of\n teaching which I find secures their attention'.\n\nMany, too, are the sketches in his letters and diaries of the men he\nmet. They are all drawn with that remarkable and largely unconscious\npower, which he possessed so fully, of being able to see very vividly\nthe striking points and details of passing events, and of enabling those\nto whom he wrote, by his aptly chosen words, also to see exactly what\npassed before his eyes. One or two out of many examples must suffice:--\n\n 'This season (1874) I met a deaf and dumb man. He was uneducated,\n but of great quickness and intelligence. He could converse easily\n and readily with his fellow-Mongols by signs, and I could ask many\n simple questions and understand his answers without trouble. His\n perception was remarkable. While sitting in the dusk outside my\n tent, a messenger came from his father's tent to tell him that some\n of the sheep were missing. A single turn of the hand followed by a\n glance around, as if searching for something, was all that was\n required. He had been sitting quietly in the circle, looking at us\n talking; but the moment the communication was made he uttered an\n inarticulate sound betraying great excitement, knocked the ashes\n out of his pipe, stuck it into his boot, threw himself into the\n saddle, and rode off into the gathering darkness to search for the\n lost sheep. All agreed that he had an extra share of intelligence,\n and he was evidently regarded as a capable and useful member of the\n community.\n\n 'One of the sad sights seen was that of a sick Chinaman near his\n end. He was one of a company of four, who went about dressing skins\n of which the Mongols make garments. He had been an opium taker, and\n an incurable diarrh[oe]a had seized him. At the time he was lodging\n with the Mongol for whom the party had come to dress skins; but the\n Mongol, seeing he would die, and fearing trouble and expense over\n his death, ordered him off the premises. Borrowing an ox cart, his\n companions had him conveyed away some five or ten miles, jolted in\n the rude vehicle and suffering from the blazing sun, to a place\n where some Chinese acquaintances were digging a well. They had a\n tent of their own, most likely a poor ragged white cloth affair,\n open to the winds and pervious to the rain; and in this the poor\n man hoped he might be permitted to die. It was the dark side of the\n picture. The glorious summer, the green and flowery plains, the\n fattening flocks, the herds exulting in the deep pastures, the gay\n Mongols riding about, the white tents bathed in the sunlight and\n gleaming from afar. In the midst of all this, a feeble man, far\n from home and kin, sick unto death, cast forth from his poor\n lodging, and seeking for a place to lie down and die in. The\n Mongols are a hospitable race, but pray ye that ye may not get sick\n on their hands.\n\n 'On the whole I have been very well received everywhere, and have\n been treated with great confidence. I have sometimes wondered at\n the readiness with which they take medicine from the hand of an\n utter stranger. One reason why they are ready to trust me,\n doubtless, is that going among them, they can go round my tent and\n see that there is nothing secret and terrible behind it; they enter\n it and see all that is in it. They know and see that I am utterly\n in their power, and, perhaps, reason that I am there with no intent\n to harm, because if I made trouble I could not move another step\n without their consent.\n\n 'In the shape of converts I have seen no result. I have not, as far\n as I am aware, seen any one who even _wanted_ to be a Christian;\n but by healing their diseases I have had opportunity to tell many\n of Jesus, the Great Physician.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nMARRIAGE\n\n\nDuring the year 1873 James Gilmour devoted much thought to the natural\nand all-important question of marriage. Uncommon as he was, in so many\nways, it was, perhaps, to be expected that in this great undertaking he\nwould depart from ordinary methods. The Rev. S. E. Meech had married, in\n1872, Miss Prankard, of London. After the return of Mr. Edkins to\nEngland, in May 1873, Mr. Gilmour went to board with Mr. and Mrs. Meech.\nThere he saw the portrait of Mrs. Meech's sister, and often heard her\nreferred to in conversation. Towards the close of 1873 he took Mrs.\nMeech into his confidence, and asked permission to enter into\ncorrespondence with her sister. The following most characteristic\nletters show the course of subsequent events:--\n\n\n 'Peking, January 14, 1874.\n\n 'My dear Parents,--I have written and proposed to a girl in\n England. It is true I have never seen her and I know very little\n about her; but what I do know is good. She is the sister of Mrs.\n Meech, and is with her mother in London. Her mother supports\n herself and daughter by keeping a school. One of the hindrances\n will be perhaps that the mother will not be willing to part with\n her daughter, as she is, no doubt, the life of the school. I don't\n know, so I have written and made the offer, and leave them to\n decide. If she cannot come, then there is no harm done. If she can\n arrange to come, then my hope is fulfilled. If the young lady says\n \"Yes,\" she or her friends will no doubt write you, as I have asked\n them to do.... You may think I am rash in writing to a girl I have\n never seen. If you say so, I may just say that I have something of\n the same feeling; but what am I to do? In addition I am very\n easy-minded over it all, because I have exercised the best of my\n thoughts on the subject, and put the whole matter into the hands of\n God, asking Him, if it be best to bring her, if it be not best to\n keep her away, and He can manage the whole thing well.'\n\nBy some mischance this letter was delayed, and Mr. Gilmour's relatives\nwere startled, one March day in 1874, by receiving from an entirely\nunknown lady in London a letter, containing the unlooked-for statement:\n'Your son, Mr. Gilmour, of Peking, has asked my daughter to write to\nyou, telling you of her decision to join him as his wife. She has wished\nme to write to you for her, and will be pleased to hear from you when\nyou feel inclined to write.'\n\nThe friendly intercourse that followed soon convinced Mr. Gilmour's\nfamily, as any knowledge of Emily Prankard herself soon convinced all\nwho made her acquaintance, that, however unusual it might appear, this\nwas indeed one of the marriages made in heaven. By both parties God's\nblessing and guidance were invoked, upon both His benediction rested,\nand, after a brief separation in this world, they are now both enriched\nwith the fuller knowledge and the perfect joy of the life beyond.\n\nNo time was lost in the arrangements for Miss Prankard's departures to\nChina. In a letter to his mother, dated October 2, 1874, Mr. Gilmour\nwrites:--\n\n 'You have seen Miss Prankard, but you have not told me what you\n think of her. She was delighted with her visit to Scotland and with\n you all. You will be glad to hear that I have had some delightful\n letters from her. I wrote her, and she has written me in the most\n unrestrained way concerning her spiritual hopes and condition, and\n though we have never seen each other, yet we know more of each\n other's inmost life and soul than, I am quite certain, most lovers\n know of each other even after long personal courtship. It is quite\n delightful to think that even now we can talk by letter with\n perfect unreserve, and I tell _you_ this because I know you will be\n glad to hear it. I knew she was a pious girl, else I would not have\n asked her to come out to be a missionary's wife, but she turns out\n better even than I thought, and I am not much afraid as to how we\n shall get on together.'\n\nIn the course of the autumn of 1874 Miss Prankard sailed, and in a\nletter to the writer, December 13, 1874, Gilmour thus refers to the\nclose of his unusual but satisfactory courtship:--\n\n 'I was married last week, Tuesday, December 8!\n\n 'Mrs. Meech's sister is Mrs. Gilmour. We never saw each other till\n a week before we were married, and my friends here drew long faces\n and howled at me for being rash and inconsiderate. What if you\n don't like each other? How then? It is for life! As if I did not\n know all this long ago. Well, the time came, the vessel was due at\n Shanghai, but would not come. Mr. Meech and I went down to Tientsin\n and waited there a fortnight, but no tidings. At last on the\n evening of Sabbath, November 29, a steamer's whistle was heard\n miles away down the river. It was Mr. Meech's turn to preach. After\n sermon he and I walked away down the river side to see what we\n could see. After a while a light hove round the last bend, then a\n green light, then the red light, then came the three lights of the\n steamer! We listened. It was the high-pressure engine of the steam\n launch which is used to lighten the deep-sea steamers before coming\n up the narrow river. Fifteen minutes more and she was at the\n landing stage. A friend went on board. Miss Prankard was on board\n the Taku, which was still outside the bar, waiting for water to\n bring her over and up to the settlement. The lighter was going to\n unload and start down the river at five A.M., and Meech and I went\n in her. About eight A.M. we met the steamer coming up, and when she\n came abreast we saw Miss Prankard on board, but could not get from\n our vessel to hers. The tide was favourable for running up, and\n they were afraid to lose a minute, so would not stop the steamer;\n we did not get on board till we reached the bund at Tientsin about\n eleven A.M. We started for Peking next day, got there on Thursday,\n and were married following Tuesday.\n\n 'Our honeymoon is now almost over. I am to have only a week of it.\n I hope to start with Meech on a mission trip to the country on\n Tuesday next.'\n\nMiss Prankard's first view of her future husband was hardly what she\nmight have expected. Mr. Meech has also sketched that scene on the\nriver.\n\n'The morning was cold, and Gilmour was clad in an old overcoat which had\nseen much service in Siberia, and had a woollen comforter round his\nneck, having more regard to warmth than to appearance. We had to follow\nback to Tientsin, Gilmour being thought by those on board the steamer to\nbe the engineer!'\n\nTwo letters may be quoted in this connection. The first was to one of\nhis most intimate Scotch friends.\n\n\n 'London Mission, Peking,\n 'January 31, 1875.\n\n 'My dear----, Your kind, long, and much-looked-for letter dated May\n 12, 1873, and August 21, 1874, reached me on January 9, 1875. Many\n thanks for it, but I think it would be quite as well in future to\n send me half the quantity in half the time, if you really find you\n cannot write me oftener. As I was married on December 8, 1874, to\n Mrs. Meech's sister, that lady, Mrs. Gilmour, had the great\n pleasure of reading your earnest, long, and reiterated warning to\n me not to have her. Your warning came too late. Had you posted your\n letter on May 12, 1873, it might have been in time, as the first\n letter that opened our acquaintance was written in January 1874. If\n nothing else will have effect with you, perhaps the thought that\n you might have saved me from the fate of having an English wife may\n have some effect in moving you to post your letters early, even\n though they should not be so long and full.\n\n 'About my wife: as I want you to know her, I introduce you to her.\n She is a jolly girl, as much, perhaps more, of a Christian and a\n Christian missionary than I am. I don't know whether I told you how\n it came about. I proposed first to a Scotch girl, but found I was\n too late; I then put myself and the direction of this affair--I\n mean the finding of a wife--into God's hands, asking Him to look me\n out one, a good one too, and very soon I found myself in a position\n to propose to Miss Prankard with all reasonable evidence that she\n was the right sort of girl, and with some hope that she would not\n disdain the offer. We had never seen each other, and had never\n corresponded, but she had heard much about me from people in\n England who knew me, and I had heard a good deal of her and seen\n her letters written to her sister and to her sister's husband. The\n first letter I wrote her was to propose, and the first letter she\n wrote me was to accept--romantic enough!\n\n 'I proposed in January, went up to Mongolia in spring, rode about\n on my camels till July, and came down to Kalgan to find that I was\n an accepted man! I went to Tientsin to meet her; we arrived here on\n Thursday, and were married on Tuesday morning. We had a quiet week,\n then I went to the country on a nine days' tour, and came back two\n days before Christmas. We have been at home ever since. Such is the\n romance of a matter-of-fact man.\n\n 'You will see that the whole thing was gone about simply on the\n faith principle, and from its success I am inclined to think more\n and more highly of the plan. Without any gammon, I am much more\n happy than ever even in my day-dreams I ventured to imagine I might\n be. It is not only me that my wife pleases, but she has gained\n golden opinions from most of the people who have met her among my\n friends and acquaintances in Scotland and China. My parents were\n scared one day last year by receiving a letter from a lady in\n England, a lady whose name even they had not known before, stating\n that her daughter had decided to become _my wife_. Didn't it stir\n up the old people! They had never heard a word about it! My letter\n to them, posted at the same time with the proposal, had been\n delayed in London. The young lady went to Scotland, and was with\n them two weeks, and came away having made such an impression on\n them that they wrote me from home to say that \"though I had\n searched the country for a couple of years I could not have made a\n better choice.\"\n\n 'Perhaps I am tiring you, but I want to let you know all about it,\n and to assure you that you need not be the least shy of me or of my\n English wife. She is a good lassie, any quantity better than me,\n and just as handy as a Scotch lass would have been. It was great\n fun for her to read your tirade about English wives and your\n warning about her. She is a jolly kind of body, and does not take\n offence, but I guess if she comes across you she will wake you up a\n bit.'\n\nThe other letter was to Miss Bremner, and referred to the part Gilmour\nwas to take in her marriage in 1883 to his brother Alexander:--\n\n 'Now as to your affair, a much more serious matter. Alex has said\n something about my part. I want to take part, but only such a small\n part as will make it true to say, \"assisted by the brother of the\n bridegroom.\" It is for you and Dr. Macfadyen to say what that\n _small_ part shall be; all I have to say about it, the smaller the\n better.\n\n 'My experiences of the ceremonies of social Christianity have been\n mixed a little. In England I baptised a child by a wrong name, and\n had actually to do it again. In China on a similar occasion I began\n by saying, \"Friends, God has given you this child,\" when the\n seeming father stopped me, and explained that God had not given\n them this child, but he himself had picked it up in a field where\n it had been exposed.\n\n 'I think I married only one Chinese couple, and to this day I doubt\n if either the one or the other uttered a syllable where they should\n have said, \"I do.\" In my own case I think I must have said \"I will\"\n in a feeble voice, for my wife when her turn came sung out \"I will\"\n in a voice that startled herself and me, and made it ominous how\n much _will_ she was going to have in the matter. Wishing you all\n blessings,\n\n 'Believe me yours truly,\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n'IN JOURNEYINGS OFTEN, IN PERILS OF RIVERS'\n\n\nThe year following the marriage, owing to the absence of Dr. Dudgeon on\nfurlough, was spent almost entirely in Peking. In his absence Mr.\nGilmour took charge of what may be called the unprofessional work of the\nhospital, the purely medical superintendence being in the hands of Dr.\nBushell of the British Legation. He varied this work and the routine of\nordinary mission duties by an occasional trip to other centres where\nfairs were being held, in the company of Mr. Murray, of the National\nBible Society of Scotland, for the purpose of selling Christian books.\nThere was often a very keen friendly rivalry as to which could sell the\nmost, and not unfrequently very large quantities of tracts and booklets\nwere thus put into circulation.\n\nEarly in 1875, with the object of enabling his colleagues and his\nfriends among the other missions which have centres in Peking the better\nto realise what life in Mongolia was like, he set up his Mongol tent in\nthe compound, and invited them in companies of five or seven to partake\nof a Mongol dinner, cooked in Mongol fashion, and served as on the\nPlain. His diary records that five such entertainments were necessary,\nthe utmost limit of the tent accommodation being reached on each\noccasion.\n\n'The guests came,' we are told, 'at the appointed time, and the fire of\nwood was lighted in the middle of the tent. While the guests sat around\non felt spread upon the ground, Gilmour proceeded to cook the millet and\nthe mutton which furnished the feast. When all was ready a blessing was\nasked and the meal was eaten. On one occasion a reverend gentleman was\ncalled on to ask the blessing, but declined, feeling apparently that\nwhat he was expected to eat was not of such a quality that he could ask\na blessing on it. Gilmour used often to refer to this with much\namusement, though at the time he felt some chagrin.'\n\nIn 1876 the Mongolian trips were resumed. No colleague had yet been\nsecured for him, and, with a bravery and consecration beyond all praise,\nMrs. Gilmour accompanied him. This she did not once simply. For the\nfirst journey the novelty of the experience and the conviction that she\ncould at any rate help to preserve her husband from the feeling of utter\nloneliness, which had been so hard to bear in past years, were powerful\nreasons. But she went a second and a third time. She went after the\nnovelty had worn off, after she had learned by very stern experience how\nhard and rough the life was, after previous exposure had told but too\nseverely upon her physical strength. And thus she deserves the eulogy\npassed upon her by her husband: 'She is a better missionary than I.'\nComparisons of this kind are obviously out of the question. But it would\nbe hard to find a more beautiful illustration of true wifely affection\nthan the love for her husband that made her willing to share his Mongol\ntent as readily as the Peking compound. And if James Gilmour\nmanifested a Christlike love for the ignorant and stolid Mongols, so\nalso did the delicately nurtured and refined lady who, in order to do\nher part in winning them to the Saviour, endured privations, faced\nperils, and bore a daily and hourly series of trials so irksome and so\nrepugnant that no motive short of all-absorbing love to Jesus Christ is\nstrong enough to account for her endurance.\n\nHere are some pictures of what this life meant to Mrs. Gilmour. The\nfirst journey which they took together lasted from April 4 until\nSeptember 23, 1876, one hundred and thirty-six days being passed in\nMongolia itself.\n\n 'On the evening of April 25 we came upon our servants' tent,\n already pitched beside some Mongol tents near a stream. Our things\n were unloaded from the Chinese cart, which soon drove off and left\n us fairly launched out on the Plain. We had two tents--one for\n ourselves and one for our servants. They were both alike, made of\n common blue Chinese cloth outside, and of commoner white Chinese\n cloth inside. It was originally intended that our tent should be\n private for our retirement and for Mrs. Gilmour's use; but we soon\n found that this idea could not be carried out. The Mongols are so\n much in the habit of going freely into everybody's tent in Mongolia\n that we found we could not retain our tent to ourselves without\n running risk of offending them by our seeming haughtiness. That\n they should think us uncongenial and distant would have been an\n obstacle to our success among them. So we made a virtue of\n necessity, and kept open house in the literal sense of the word. At\n our meals, our devotions, our ablutions, there they were--much\n amused and interested, of course. It was sometimes annoying to have\n them so much and so constantly about, but there was no help for it,\n and soon we began to care little for them, and took their\n presence not only as a matter of course, but without being\n disturbed by it.\n\n 'One advantage of this sort of public life was that Mrs. Gilmour,\n being almost constantly in the presence of the spoken language,\n picked it up very accurately and very rapidly. It is hardly\n possible to conceive a better plan of becoming easily and well\n acquainted with any language than that of thus living where it is\n impossible not to hear it in almost constant use.\n\n 'Another advantage of this sort of public life was that one gained\n the friendship of the people. This perfect freedom of intercourse\n pleased them much, and even conciliated those not very friendly\n inclined. It was quite common to hear visitors remark that, while\n other foreigners in Mongolia are distant and harsh, these people\n were gentle and accessible, and that such friendly people did a\n great deal to remove the unfavourable impressions made by other\n less considerate travellers.\n\n 'Our sojourn extended to the end of August, giving us a little over\n four months at a stretch of tent life. In that time we had\n experience of many kinds of weather. At first it was cold. Even in\n May ice was to be seen in the mornings. Then came heat, premature\n and burning, and all the more trying for ourselves and cattle on\n account of the lack of rain. Then we had a furious tempest, which\n raged for about thirty-six hours, overturning our covered cart and\n threatening to sweep ourselves and our tents away. We had to load\n down our tent ropes with bags of earth, stones, sod, the bodies of\n our carts, wheels, boxes, and anything we could find, and even then\n we had but a precarious existence. Every now and then, by day and\n by night, there would arise a shout from the one tent or the other,\n and amid the roar of the wind we heard cries for the hammer and the\n spare tent pins. We managed to fix ourselves without being blown\n away, and when the storm was over we patched our riven tents,\n and were thankful we had weathered it so well. Then came the summer\n rains--late in season, it is true, but great in strength--pouring\n and lashing and roaring, the great drops bursting through our rent\n cloth, broken up into spray and looking like pepper shaken from a\n box. We had waterproof sheets, but it was next to impossible to\n keep anything dry. While the rain lasted we sat huddled in our rain\n cloaks, or, spade in hand, cut new channels for suddenly\n extemporised streams and pools that grew larger and continued to\n come closer to our bedding and boxes. As soon as the sun returned,\n there was a general drying of garments, mattresses, and sheepskin\n robes. The heat was perhaps the most trying of our meteorological\n experiences; but even that passed away at last, and before we had\n left the plains night frost had reappeared, covering the pools\n about well mouths with thin sheets of ice.\n\n[Illustration: A MONGOL ENCAMPMENT]\n\n 'Later in the season, one afternoon, the loungers in the tent\n looked out and remarked, \"The Mandarin has come,\" and gave place to\n a richly dressed, corpulent Mongol, who entered the tent, followed\n by one of his servants. Salutations over, he soon showed his\n colours and unmasked his batteries. He had come to fight, and we\n both went at it tooth and nail. He had read a good deal, and had\n come evidently prepared and primed, not in any spirit of\n unfriendliness, but under the evident conviction that a better case\n could be made out for Buddhism than for Christianity. The tent was\n crammed with eager listeners, and we reasoned together from the\n Creation to the finish, including all manner of side issues and\n important questions. It was a long time before he could be\n convinced that our Jesus was not spoken of and made known in the\n Buddhist classics. When he was at length satisfied (on that point),\n he wanted to know about the Trinity; how men could get good; how it\n was right that men should escape punishment due to their misdeeds\n by praying to Jesus; why God allowed animals, such as starving\n dogs, to lead a life of suffering; why God did not keep sin from\n entering the world; how could Jesus come, when it is said He is\n always with us; and how about the souls who died before Jesus came.\n\n 'At last the sun got low, and the Mandarin, with many words of\n friendship, rode away, promising to come another day. But he never\n came.'\n\nIn a later journey they had a very narrow escape from one of the\nfrequent perils of this tent life:--\n\n 'In Mongolia we had one rather serious adventure. The south edge of\n the Plain is famed for storms, and the night we camped there, just\n after dark, began one of the fiercest thunderstorms I can remember\n having seen. The wind roared, the rain dashed, the tent quivered;\n the thunder rattled with a metallic ring, like shafts of iron\n dashing against each other, as it darted along a sheet-iron sky;\n the water rose in the tent till part of our bed was afloat. It was\n hardly possible to hear each other speak; but amid and above all\n the din of the tempest rose one sound not to be mistaken, the roar\n of rushing water. There was a river to right of us, but the sound\n came more from the left. Venturing out, I found there was a great\n swift-flowing river on both sides of us; that we could not move\n from the little piece of elevated land plain on which we had our\n tent; and that a few inches more water, or an obstacle getting into\n the path of the upper river, would send the full force of the\n current down on our tents. Flocks, herds, men are said to be swept\n away now and again in Mongolia, and for an hour our case seemed\n doubtful; but about 11 P.M. the storm ceased and the danger was\n over, and, though we had hardly anything left, we went to sleep,\n thanking God for His preserving mercy.'\n\nCourageous, undoubtedly, Mrs. Gilmour was; her example of self-sacrifice\nin the Master's cause was lofty in itself, and is stimulating to every\nChristian mind. Yet it is to be greatly feared that the first of these\njourneys aggravated, if it did not actually develope, the disease from\nwhich she ultimately died. She found the ceaseless round of millet and\nmutton so unpalatable as at the last to be able hardly to eat at all;\nand experience of tent life was needful before she could realise how\nabsolutely devoid it was of almost everything that a European lady looks\nupon as essential to daily existence, and thus make adequate preparation\nfor the life. Yet, in 1878, she not only accompanied her husband again,\nbetter equipped by reason of previous experience, but she also took with\nher their infant boy.\n\nThe winter of 1876 in Peking was devoted to work more or less directly\nbearing upon the Christian conquest of the nomad tribes.\n\n 'Since returning from Mongolia I have had here a teacher whom I had\n come from the plains. I read some Buddhist classics with him, then\n had him write to my dictation some of the more striking incidents\n narrated in the Book of Daniel; then finally had him write for me\n an explanation of the way of salvation through Jesus. The extracts\n from Daniel were written mostly with the idea of accustoming him to\n my dictation; but the explanation of Christianity was a tract that\n I had long wanted to write, in which I sought to make it as plain\n as possible, not only that Jesus does save, but also that there is\n no salvation through any other name. The Religious Tract Society\n has consented to print for me both the extract from Daniel and the\n explanation of Christianity.'\n\nDuring 1877 the ever-recurring question, inevitable, perhaps, and yet\nvery paralysing to any steady progress, as to whether it was really\nworth while to continue labour in such a sterile field, came up once\nmore for discussion. In an elaborate report, designed rather to elicit\nthe views of the home authorities than to express his own, dated August\n18, 1877, Mr. Gilmour depicts rapidly and clearly his relations, on the\none hand, to the workers in the station of the American Board at Kalgan,\nand, on the other, to his colleagues of the North China Committee of the\nLondon Society. The American Board had sent out another missionary, and\nMr. Gilmour was at first inclined to the view that, although working\nindependently, they might yet act practically as colleagues.\n\n 'In addition, the new man, Rev. W. P. Sprague, and I one day\n undertook to climb a mountain together, and, by the time we got\n half-way up, we discovered that our ideas about working together\n quite agreed, and that there was a fair and good prospect of our\n making good harmonious colleagues in one work, though we belonged\n to different societies and hailed from different nations. Here,\n then, the thing seemed to be accomplished; here was a colleague\n ready to my hand, or I to his.'\n\nBut Mrs. Gulick, a most energetic and enthusiastic missionary to the\nMongols, died, her husband was invalided to Japan, and Mr. Sprague found\nhimself with the whole mission on his shoulders.\n\n 'If things are to remain as they are, it amounts pretty much to\n this, that in the warmer months of the year I can travel through\n parts of Mongolia teaching the Gospel and dispensing medicines; the\n rest of the year I can turn my attention to Chinese work in\n Peking. This is a pleasant enough arrangement for me, but it is not\n a very vigorous prosecution of the work of the Mongol mission. On\n the other hand, such is the fewness of people to be reached in\n Mongolia that it is only by alternating these periods of\n deprivation with seasons of activity among the Chinese that a man\n can keep his spirit alive.\n\n 'As regards the opinion of other members of the Committee here, I\n have never called for any formal expression of it, nor have they\n (the members of Committee) ever been invited to discuss the\n question of the Mongol mission in committee, but I know their\n individual opinions in an informal way. Messrs. Meech and Barradale\n don't say much; Mr. Owen thinks we will never do much in Mongolia\n working upon so distant a base as Peking; Mr. Lees thinks it a pity\n to take up such a seemingly unproductive field while so many more\n promising fields call for attention; he moreover thinks that the\n only way to do much for Mongolia is through China; Dr. Edkins\n thinks I spend too much time and labour over the Mongols, his idea\n being seemingly a combination of Mongol and Chinese work, with a\n preponderating tendency towards Chinese; Dr. Dudgeon has always\n regarded the Mongol mission as hardly practicable.\n\n 'On the principle, however, of _Sow beside all waters_, and _Thou\n knowest not which shall prosper, this or that_, perhaps it is well\n that the Gospel should be exhibited to the Mongols also, and if\n anyone is to go to Mongolia, perhaps many people would have more\n disqualifications than myself.'\n\nIn 1877 there was what seemed to be a very hopeful development of\nChristian work in Shantung, and Mr. Gilmour and Mr. Owen visited that\ndistrict and baptized a large number of converts. Still later, Dr.\nEdkins and Mr. Owen, on another visit, baptized some two hundred\npeople. With reference to this latter ingathering Mr. Gilmour wrote, 'I\nmuch regret that we have not some definite system of putting men on a\nperiod of probation.... About these two hundred I have nothing to say,\nbut of the hundred odd Mr. Owen and I baptized in November I have to\nadmit that, making all allowances, some of them cause me more anxiety\nthan satisfaction.' There was, unfortunately, only too much ground for\nthis fear. Ultimately the movement dwindled almost as rapidly as it had\ndeveloped, and with little permanent benefit to the missionary cause.\nShantung had been devastated by famine, locusts, and cholera.\nMissionaries brought relief to the stricken people, giving both money\nand food. Large numbers were drawn towards the new religion by this\nexample of its deeds, and most of the converts had professed\nChristianity in the hope of getting something by its means. But this\nincident brought to a head a divergence of view as to the whole conduct\nof affairs in the Peking mission between the two older missionaries, Dr.\nEdkins and Dr. Dudgeon, and their three younger colleagues, Mr. Gilmour,\nMr. Owen, and Mr. Meech. Into this strenuous and protracted controversy\nwe do not propose to enter. Both parties were actuated by high and\nhonourable motives; both were able to express their views pointedly, and\nwith all appropriate force. In the end the view advocated by Mr. Gilmour\ntriumphed. This was that, so far as possible, no pecuniary inducement\nwhatever, either by way of payment for services, or even employment in\nconnection with the mission, should be allowed to influence a Chinaman's\njudgment in the acceptance of Christianity. Gilmour could take an active\npart in the discussions only during his winter residence in Peking. But\nthe reader who has followed its history so far will be quite prepared to\nlearn that he made up for the infrequency of his participation in the\ncontroversy by the energy which he displayed when he did so. And in\ndepicting Gilmour as he was, it is essential that he should be seen when\nopposing no less than, as he much preferred to be in all matters\naffecting the welfare of the mission, in the heartiest concord with his\ncolleagues. And yet his keenest opponents would cordially assent to the\nfollowing statement by one who took an active part in all the\ndiscussions. It is mainly for the purpose of emphasising this testimony\nthat the matter is referred to here.\n\n'When in Peking Gilmour took his full share in the debates which were\nconstantly arising. Although he could and did argue to the extremest\npoint, and very hot and sharp words might be spoken during the\ndiscussion, he harboured no bitterness of feeling against his opponents.\nAfter excited argument he would get up and say, \"Nevertheless I love\nyou.\" Nor were these empty words. He was kind, and willing to help all,\nand was doing acts of service continually for those who opposed him\nmost.'\n\nTowards the close of 1878 the Rev. J. S. Barradale, of the Tientsin\nMission, died, leaving the Rev. J. Lees alone without a Chinese-speaking\nhelper. Mr. Gilmour sympathised deeply with him in his loss, and wrote\nto say that, so long as Mr. Lees was thus left alone, he would be glad\nto make two trips annually to his country stations, either _with_ him or\n_for_ him. Mr. Gilmour's journal of this work is not only a record of\nthe willingness with which he added gladly to his own heavy labours in\norder to assist a colleague; but it also gives some most realistic\npictures of what ordinary life in China is like, and under what\nconditions evangelistic itineration there is carried on. Some of the\ndistricts visited had just been devastated by a severe famine.\n\n 'From Tientsin to Hsiao Chang is five days' journey. Three hours\n out from Tientsin we came upon some dogs feasting on a corpse lying\n at a cross-road. The dogs belonged to cottagers near, but no\n attempt was made by the owners to keep them away; no one took the\n trouble to bury the body or cover it up even. Later on we passed\n through one famine-devastated district. Half the houses in the\n villages were unroofed; large tracts of land were untilled; the\n landscape was almost entirely destitute of animal life; travellers\n were nowhere to be seen; round the villages the little stacks of\n straw and fuel were not to be seen; the lanes were silent; no dogs,\n no cocks and hens, no pigs; no groups of children playing or\n running after the foreigner as he passed by; and the words of\n Scripture came to my mind, \"the land desolate without inhabitant.\"\n We continued to pass these desolations for about sixty English\n miles. We stopped a night in one of these ruined villages, and Mr.\n Lees took me round the place to see the nature and extent of the\n destruction. Closer inspection revealed even more ruin than a mere\n traveller's passing look would detect; for, evidently, some care\n had been taken to leave house walls and boundary walls on the\n street standing, so as to hide some part of the destruction, and\n thus make things look better than they really were.\n\n 'Natives of the place gave us numbers, which showed the population\n was then estimated at not much, if any, more than half the former\n population. It was expressly stated, however, that the missing half\n were not regarded as all dead; very many were dead, had died in the\n place, but many had gone elsewhere--in most cases no one knew\n where. Of these some few would doubtless return; but it is to be\n feared that the mortality in a hard year among famine refugees is\n very large, and of those who left their homes and native places,\n the few that may eventually return will be very few, I fear.\n\n 'Doesn't the Bible say that it is a harder fate to die of famine\n than to die by the sword--to die stricken through for want of the\n fruits of the earth? But of all those who died in the famine in\n North China there is one class whose case is perhaps more\n distressing than ordinary. A large number of people seem to have\n died just as the harvest--a plentiful one--ripened. Through all\n these hard dreary months, when, day after day, month after month,\n they looked for and longed for rain, those I now speak of struggled\n through, kept up hope, fared hard, hoped eagerly, and at last saw\n the rain come, saw the crops flourishing, saw them beginning to\n ripen, congratulated themselves and others on the prospect of\n abundant food and better days. But they were to see it with their\n eyes, but not to eat thereof. As far as could be gathered from the\n natives themselves, the case would seem to be thus.\n\n 'The great mass of the population was much reduced in bodily\n strength by the long period of half-starvation they went through;\n summer and early autumn came with the rains and the attendant ague,\n which last--the ague--still more reduced the strength of their\n already emaciated frames. You can imagine them, with lean faces and\n hungry eyes, tottering about the fields, and counting the days that\n must yet elapse before the grain would ripen. The rage of hunger\n was no longer to be borne; they anticipated by a few days the\n ripening; took the grain, still a little green--perhaps sometimes\n very green--and put it into the pot. But here again was another\n difficulty. The fuel used is grain stalks, and the famine deprived\n them at once of food and fuel. Green grain they might cook, but\n green-grain stalks would not burn. Fuel was thus deficient; and\n was it wonderful if, as they stood round the pot, and the fuel was\n deficient, their patience should fail them and they should fall\n upon the food half cooked? That was bad enough; but that is not\n all. The Chinese have nearly as little self-control as children;\n and is it to be wondered at if, when at last, after long months of\n the slow torture of unappeased hunger, they found a full meal\n before them, they should have eaten to the full? When a man\n emaciated from having gone through a famine, and further enfeebled\n after repeated prostrations by ague, at length rises up and gorges\n himself with farinaceous food, half ripe and half cooked, the\n consequences are not difficult to divine. Diarrh[oe]a and dysentery\n set in, and became fearfully prevalent--not only prevalent, but\n peculiarly fatal. To make matters worse, medicines in that part of\n the country are dear; the people were too poor to get medical help,\n and great numbers who had lived to see the famine end and\n prosperity return lived only to see the prosperity, and to die when\n it touched them. The famine fever in summer seems to have been\n fearfully prevalent. It is said that in a single courtyard two or\n three people would be lying about the gate, two or three under the\n shadow of some house, two or three more inside the house--all\n stricken down with fever. The air of some villages is said to have\n been loaded with the effluvia to such an extent that one riding\n along the street perceptibly discerned the taint in the atmosphere.\n The fever was deadly too, but evidently not so deadly in proportion\n as the autumn dysentery. Frequently, when talking to a boy, we\n would hear he was an orphan, and, on inquiry, he told that his\n father had died in autumn; frequently, in talking to a woman, we\n would hear that she was a widow, and, on asking when her husband\n died, the reply was, \"Autumn.\"\n\n 'We reached Hsiao Chang in a snowstorm on Saturday afternoon. A few\n of the people, doubtless, heard of our arrival; but those of the\n other villages probably did not know we had come; so that our being\n there, perhaps, did not materially increase the number of the\n congregation that assembled next day (Sunday). Sunday was a dull,\n uncomfortable day; the ground covered with snow; the sky still\n covered with clouds; no sunshine; yet there was a congregation of\n about one hundred and thirty, of whom eighty (about) would be\n women, and fifty (about) be men. The next Sabbath, January 26, was\n still dull; the congregation numbered about two hundred and\n eighty--men, say, one hundred and thirty; women, say, one hundred\n and fifty. Mr. Lees took the women into the chapel. I took the men\n outside in another court, and preached to them from a terrace which\n gave me a commanding view of my congregation. Mr. Lees had too\n little ventilation, I had too much of it; but both of our\n congregations listened well, though there was no sun, though the\n cold was intense, and though stray flakes of snow wandered slowly\n down among us as we worshipped. The next Sabbath, February 2, was\n fine. All except adherents were excluded, and the congregation\n numbered about eighty men, and one hundred and twenty women. Twelve\n men and seven women were baptized.\n\n 'The most novel feature of the work I noticed was the eagerness\n displayed to learn and sing hymns. Sometimes poor old women, from\n whom we could not extract much Catechism information about the\n unity in trinity and other theological mysteries, brightened up\n their old wrinkled faces when asked if they could sing, and when\n asked to give us a specimen of their singing, would raise their\n cracked and quavering voices and go through \"There is a happy\n land,\" or \"The Great Physician,\" or \"Safe in the arms of Jesus,\" a\n good deal out of tune here and there, it is true, but on the whole\n creditably as regards music, and with an apparent earnestness and\n feeling that was hard to witness with dry eyes. And if the old\n women sang thus, what of the young people? They seemed to revel in\n hymns. The old, big, orthodox hymn-book used in our chapels got a\n good deal of patronage and attention; but their great favourites\n were those in a small collection of the Sankey revival hymns\n translated (with a few exceptions) and published by Mr. Lees. These\n hymns contain good gospel, seem to be easily learned, and are set\n to tunes which the Chinese seem never to sing themselves tired of.\n The preachers have mastered a goodly number of them, and teach them\n to all comers; but, Mr. Lees being a singer, of course, when he\n arrived, there were high singing festivals, and the practice at\n evening prayers was sometimes so vigorous and prolonged that the\n tympanum of one of my ears began to show symptoms of defeat. These\n hymns I regard as a most powerful auxiliary to the other Gospel\n agencies at work, and I hope a great deal of good from them.\n\n 'Every Chinaman wants looking after. Even the best and most\n trustworthy men are all the better for being well and carefully\n superintended. In fact, the better a man is, the better he pays for\n being well looked after. The present state of country mission work\n in North China calls for careful supervision in an especial degree.\n Unforeseen circumstances arise that need prompt action where a\n wrong course of action may be disastrous; something or other\n happens that dismays the whole of the little Christian community;\n something or other happens that lifts them up into pride; the\n Christians are like little islands of Christianity isolated in a\n vast ocean of heathenism, and the waves seem to threaten to swallow\n them up. The missionary, simply by going and putting in an\n appearance, or by giving a little simple advice, or by speaking a\n few words of encouragement, or by devising a few simple methods, or\n making a few simple arrangements, can often keep the Church out of\n moral danger, infuse new hope and courage to the members and\n preachers, and, under God, put fresh life and vigour into the whole\n concern. As iron sharpeneth iron, so doth a man the face of his\n friend; and this is true in an especial degree of a missionary and\n his preachers and converts.'\n\nIn the course of a subsequent tour in the same district, in 1880, he\ngives in his diary a sketch of a sermon preached by Liu, his Chinese\nhelper, one which may be taken as a specimen of the best class of\naddress given by a converted Chinaman to his fellow-countrymen.\n\n 'Liu's subject was from Revelation, \"Whosoever will, let him take\n of the water of life freely.\" He went into an elaborate detail\n about the use of water, washing, laying the dust in a room being\n swept out, (\u2021 la Bunyan) making a sinking sand hard and good for a\n cart and man to travel on. Finally, he got to a couple of good\n stories about a man who got drunk and had his face blackened, so\n that when he came home his own father did not know him and would\n not let him in, and when he saw himself accidentally in a mirror he\n did not know himself. His drunkenness had completely changed his\n appearance and voice even.\n\n 'So God made us in His own image, but sin has terribly changed us.\n Purified by the Holy Ghost we may again be like ourselves and God.\n\n 'The service lasted about two hours and ten minutes. The story\n parts of the sermon were very effective.'\n\nA later entry in the diary runs: 'Had service. Preached \"Jesus saves,\"\nthe sermon for the heathen of that name.' One who often heard him preach\nin China gives the following estimate of his power and method in\ndelivering his message:--\n\n 'As a preacher Gilmour was most unconventional. His sermons were\n direct talks, without any attempt at rhetoric. They were\n plentifully illustrated, largely from events in his own experience.\n Laughable allusions or quaint ways of putting things were\n frequently used. While there was not much attractive in the manner\n of the preacher, the directness of his remark and his evident\n earnestness always made his sermons appreciated and enjoyed. The\n Chinese were always glad to hear him, and words he used to speak\n are often referred to.'\n\nWriting on one occasion to a friend in England being educated for the\nChristian ministry, who had just taken one of the higher degrees at the\nLondon University, he said:--\n\n 'I don't think our work is so much unlike, after all. You witness\n for Christ, so do I; and though you are in a Christian country and\n I in a heathen land, human nature is human nature, and not so\n different as might be supposed. You may, pray you may, see more\n fruit of your work than I do, but your trials, and difficulties,\n and temptations will be, no doubt are, pretty much the same as\n mine. May the Lord help you and bless you now and for ever! I hope\n He will help you to have ever a heart ready to preach simply the\n simple Gospel to your hearers, half of whom, perhaps, know almost\n nothing of salvation, though they have been listening to sermons\n about it all their lives, and would not know in the least to which\n hand to turn if they were aroused and became anxious to be saved.\n I'll give you a text, which I think peculiarly suitable for you,\n now a graduate. Isaiah 1. 4--\"The Lord God hath given me the tongue\n of the learned, that I should know how to speak a word in season to\n him that is weary.\" I like to dwell on this text. Learning should\n not make deep sermons, hard to be understood; on the contrary, it\n should be all employed to make the road simple and clear. Forgive\n me for exhorting you so, but I can't refrain from it when I think\n of the many learned men I know at home and here who employ their\n learning in giving learned sermons, _not_ in making the way simple\n and plain.'\n\nThe sermon referred to in the extract quoted above from the diary is\nbased on Matt. i. 21. It was never written out; but the notes of it lie\nbefore us, and we quote them as an illustration of his way of addressing\nboth Chinese and English audiences. It may interest the reader to\nendeavour to make out from it the line of thought, and any who may have\nheard him preach or speak will find it easy to recall _how_ he preached\nit.\n\n 'Matt. i. 21. 'He shall save people from their sins.'\n\n 'Talk to a man, he admits he is sinner; by-and-by he will break off\n and become good.\n\n 'He does not really know what sin is. Egypt!\n\n 'It is a _disease_; if you get it can you leave it off? Your blood\n is tainted.\n\n 'It is a _fire_; once light it, you can't quench it, it smoulders\n and breaks out afresh.\n\n 'It is an _evil root_, evil weed, can easy sow, not extirpate.\n\n 'Sin is like the current above Niagara.\n\n 'It becomes a _habit_. Indulgence makes habit grow.\n\n 'It is like a _spider_; one thread after another binds up a fly.\n\n 'Such is sin--murder, robbery, theft, adultery, uncleanness, lying,\n covetousness, hatred, anger, malice, want of love to God or man.\n\n 'Many of these sins you not accused of, but you have sin: sin is\n fatal, can you free yourself? _Jesus is to do it._\n\n 'Disease, fire, root, current, habit, fly. _The man cannot free\n himself: Jesus must set him free._\n\n 'Not only from _Hell_, but from sin.\n\n 'Suppose you were freed only from Hell, and transported to Heaven,\n could you be happy? Who would be your companions?\n\n 'Ignorant (wicked) man in company of learned (holy).\n\n '_A Tientsin vagrant_ became chair-bearer; had clothes, etc., but\n only for a day; he was soon naked again.\n\n 'Christ does not transport to Heaven only.\n\n '_Disease._--Not die from it; He cures it.\n\n '_Fire._--Not consumed by it; He quenches it.\n\n '_Root_ of evil; He clears from the ground.\n\n '_Niagara._--He lifts you out of the current on to an island.\n\n '_Habit._--He sets you free from it.\n\n '_Spider's fly._--He not only takes from the spider; but He sets it\n free from the toils.\n\n '_Jesus gives_ second nature; you are born again.\n\n 'But upon one _condition_, your consent. The _disease_ is severe:\n you must obey doctor; if you do not submit to operation; not take\n bitter drugs; then he does not heal.\n\n '_Lead_ a man to Peking: not come, not follow: leave him: lead to\n heaven, paths of holiness not follow, not reach.\n\n 'Has Christ saved you? If yes, visible to self and others. He is\n not only an object of respect, admiration: He is the doctor into\n whose hands you put your soul for treatment.\n\n '_Two brothers_, Kite, Loe, Pet Dog.\n\n '_John of Hankow's Liu_, see Chronicle; dead _v._ alive; sick (of\n fever) _v._ whole. Is it last time? Mongols feel queer.\n\n '_Missionaries._ Mongol doctor who had not courage to treat\n himself.\n\n '_S. S. Teacher_: Paul: be a castaway,\n\n 'Christ Matt. i. 21-23.\n\n 'Any religion good enough. No: no religion breaks bondage of sin:\n go down to death in sin's slavery. Only Jesus can save from sin.\n _Ask, and He'll do it._'\n\nDuring the winters in Peking he still used every effort to get at the\nMongols frequenting the capital.\n\n 'The Mongols who visit Peking connect themselves with two great\n centres. \"The Outside Lodging,\" which is about a mile or more north\n of the north wall of Peking, and is also called the \"Halha\n Lodging,\" because it is the great resort of the Northern Mongols,\n and the \"Inside Lodging,\" which is near the inside of the south\n wall of the Manchu City of Peking, is situated close behind the\n English Legation, and is also called the \"Cold Lodging;\" this name\n being probably due to the fact that in the open space in this\n \"Inside Lodging\" a good many Mongols camp out in their tents, in\n place of hiring courts and rooms from the Chinese. These are the\n two great _centres_ for Mongols in Peking. Many of them lodge in\n the immediate neighbourhood, and even those who lodge in other\n parts of the city frequent these two centres; so that, if any one\n wants to know whether or not any individual Mongol has come to\n Peking, he seeks him at one or other of these marts.\n\n 'In the winter of 1879-80 I set up a book-stall, with a Chinaman to\n care for it, at the Outside Lodging, going myself, as a rule, every\n second day. This winter I followed the example of the pedlars, and,\n hanging two bags of books from my shoulders, hunted the Mongols\n out, going not only to the trading places, but in and out among the\n lanes where they lodged, visiting the Outside Lodging first and the\n Inside Lodging later in the day. The number of Mongols outside the\n city became latterly so small that it was not visited very often;\n but during the Chinese eleventh and the first part of the twelfth\n month, the number of Mongols to be met with at the Inside Lodging\n was fair, and the number of books disposed of altogether, both\n outside and inside the city, amounted to seven hundred and\n fourteen.\n\n 'In many cases the Mongols, before buying, and not unfrequently\n after buying, would insist on having the book read, supposing that\n they got more for their money when they not only had the book, but\n had me let them hear its contents. Of course I was only too glad to\n have the opportunity of reading, which readily changed to\n opportunity for talking; and in this way, from time to time, little\n groups of Mongols would gather round and listen to short addresses\n on the main doctrines of Christianity. Several men whom I accosted\n seemed familiar with the name of Jesus, and had some knowledge of\n Christianity. Some bought the books eagerly; some not only did not\n buy themselves, but exhorted others not to buy; some openly spoke\n against Christianity; but a great many of those who listened to an\n address or took part in a conversation evinced interest in the\n subjects spoken of, and remarked that salvation by another bearing\n our sin was a reasonable doctrine. As the purchasers of these books\n hailed from all parts of Mongolia, the tracts thus put into their\n hands will reach to even remote localities in the west, north, and\n east, and my prayer is that the reading of them may be the\n beginning of what shall lead to a saving knowledge of the truth in\n some minds. Hoping for some good result, I had my address stamped\n on many of the books, to enable such as might wish to learn more to\n know where to come.\n\n 'In some cases, Mongols wishing to buy books had no money, but were\n willing to give goods instead; and thus it happened that I\n sometimes made my way home at night with a miscellaneous collection\n of cheese, sour-curd, butter and millet cake and sheep's fat,\n representing the produce of part of the day's sales.'\n\nA short time before he returned to England on his first furlough he drew\nup a report, in which he places on record some of the results of his ten\nyears' experience of Mongol life and habits.\n\n 'On one occasion I was living some weeks in a Mongol's tent. It was\n late in the year. Lights were put out soon after dark. The nights\n were long in reality, and, in such unsatisfactory surroundings as\n the discomforts of a poor tent and doubtful companions, the nights\n seemed longer than they were. At sunrise I was only too glad to\n escape from smoke and everything else to the retirement of the\n crest of a low ridge of hills near the tent. This, perhaps the most\n natural thing in the world for a foreigner, was utterly\n inexplicable to the Mongols. The idea that any man should get out\n of his bed at sunrise and climb a hill for nothing! He must be up\n to mischief! He must be secretly taking away the luck of the land!\n This went on for some time, the Mongols all alive with suspicion,\n and the unsuspecting foreigner retiring regularly morning after\n morning, till at length a drunken man blurted out the whole thing,\n and openly stated the conviction that the inhabitants had arrived\n at, namely, that this extraordinary morning walk of the foreigner\n on the hill crest boded no good to the country. To remain among the\n people I had to give up my morning retirement.\n\n 'The Mongols are very suspicious of seeing a foreigner writing.\n What _can_ he be up to? they say among themselves. Is he taking\n notes of the capabilities of the country? Is he marking out a road\n map, so that he can return guiding an army? Is he, as a wizard,\n carrying off the good luck of the country in his note-book? These,\n and a great many others, are the questions that they ask among\n themselves and put to the foreigner when they see him writing; and\n if he desires to conciliate the good-will of the people, and to win\n their confidence, the missionary must abstain from walking and\n writing while he is among them.\n\n 'On another point, too, a missionary must be careful. He must not\n go about shooting. Killing beasts or birds the Mongols regard as\n peculiarly sinful, and anyone who wished to teach them religious\n truth would make the attempt under great disadvantage if he carried\n and used a gun. This, however, is a prejudice that it is not so\n difficult to refrain from offending.\n\n 'The diseases presented for treatment are legion, but the most\n common cases are skin diseases and diseases of the eye and teeth.\n Perhaps rheumatism is _the_ disease of Mongolia; but the manner of\n life and customs of the Mongols are such that it is useless to\n attempt to cure it. Cure it to-day, it is contracted again\n to-morrow. Skin diseases present a fair field for a medical\n missionary. They are so common, and the Mongolian treatment of them\n is so far removed from common-sense, that anyone with a few\n medicines and a little intelligence has ample opportunity of\n benefiting many sufferers. The same may be said of the eye. The\n glare of the sun on the Plain at all seasons, except when the grass\n is fresh and green in summer, the blinding sheen from the snowy\n expanse in winter, and the continual smoke that hangs like a cloud\n two or three feet above the floor of the tent, all combine to\n attack the eye. Eye diseases are therefore very common. The lama\n medicines seem to be able to do nothing for such cases, and a few\n remedies in a foreigner's hands work cures that seem wonderful to\n the Mongols.\n\n 'In many cases, when a Mongol applies to his doctor, he simply\n extends his hand, and expects that the doctor, by simply feeling\n his pulse, will be able to tell, not only the disease, but what\n will cure it. As soon as the doctor has felt the pulse of one\n hand, the patient at once extends the other hand that the pulse may\n be felt there also, and great surprise is manifested when a\n foreigner begins his diagnosis of a case by declining the proffered\n wrist and asking questions.\n\n 'The question of \"How did you get this disease?\" often elicits some\n curiously superstitious replies. One man lays the blame on the\n stars and constellations. Another confesses that when he was a lad\n he was mischievous, and dug holes in the ground or cut shrubs on\n the hill, and it is not difficult to see how he regards disease as\n a punishment for digging, since by digging worms are killed; but\n what cutting wood on a hill can have to do with sin it is harder to\n see, except it be regarded as stealing the possessions of the\n spiritual lord of the locality. In consulting a doctor, too, a\n Mongol seems to lay a deal of stress on the belief that it is his\n _fate_ to be cured by the medical man in question, and, if he finds\n relief, often says that his meeting this particular doctor and\n being cured is the result of prayers made at some previous time.\n\n 'One difficulty in curing Mongols is that they frequently, when\n supplied with medicines, depart entirely from the doctor's\n instructions when they apply them; and a not unfrequent case is\n that of the patient who, after applying to the foreigner for\n medicine and getting it, is frightened by his success, or scared by\n some lying report of his neighbours, or staggered at the fact that\n the foreigner would not feel his pulse, or feel it at one wrist\n only, lays aside the medicine carefully and does not use it at all.\n\n 'In Mongolia, too, a foreigner is often asked to perform absurd,\n laughable, or impossible cures. One man wants to be made clever,\n another to be made fat, another to be cured of insanity, another of\n tobacco, another of whisky, another of hunger, another of tea;\n another wants to be made strong, so as to conquer in gymnastic\n exercises; most men want medicine to make their beards grow; while\n almost every man, woman, and child wants to have his or her skin\n made as white as that of the foreigner.\n\n 'When a Mongol is convinced that his case is hopeless he takes it\n very calmly, and bows to his fate, whether it be death or chronic\n disease; and Mongol doctors, and Mongol patients too, after a\n succession of failures, regard the affliction as a thing fated, to\n be unable to overcome which implies no lack of medical ability on\n the doctor's part.\n\n 'Of all the healing appliances in the hands of a foreigner none\n strikes the fancy of a Mongol so much as the galvanic battery, and\n it is rather curious that almost every Mongol who sees it and tries\n its effect exclaims what a capital thing it would be for examining\n accused persons. It would far surpass whipping, beating, or\n suspending. Under its torture a guilty man could not but \"confess.\"\n Some one in England has advocated the use of the galvanic battery\n in place of the cat in punishing criminals, and it is rather\n curious to note the coincidence of the English and Mongol mind.\n\n 'The Mongol doctors are not, it would seem, quite unacquainted with\n the properties of galvanism. It is said that they are in the habit\n of prescribing the loadstone ore, reduced to powder, as efficacious\n when applied to sores, and one man hard of hearing had been\n recommended by a lama to put a piece of loadstone into each ear and\n chew a piece of iron in his mouth!\n\n 'Divination is another point on which Mongols are troublesome. It\n never for a moment enters their head that a man so intelligent and\n well fitted out with appliances as a foreigner seems to them to be\n cannot divine. Accordingly they come to him to divine for them\n where they should camp to be lucky and get rich, when a man who has\n gone on a journey will return, why no news has been received from a\n son or husband who is serving in the army, where they should dig a\n well so as to get plenty of good water near the surface, whether it\n would be fortunate for them to venture on some trading speculation,\n whether they should go on some projected journey, in what direction\n they should search for lost cattle, or, more frequently than any of\n the above, they come, men and women, old and young, to have the\n general luck of their lives examined into. Great is their amazement\n when the foreigner confesses his ignorance of such art, and greater\n still is their incredulity.\n\n 'The great obstacles to success in doctoring the Mongols are\n two:--First: most of the afflicted Mongols suffer from chronic\n diseases for which almost nothing can be done. Second: in many\n cases, where alleviation or cures are effected, they are only of\n short duration, as no amount of explanation or exhortation seems\n sufficient to make them aware of the importance of guarding against\n causes of disease. But, notwithstanding all this, many cures can be\n effected on favourable subjects, and the fact that the missionary\n carries medicines with him and attempts to heal, and that without\n money and without price, aids the missionary cause by bringing him\n into friendly communication with many who would doubtless hold\n themselves aloof from any one who approached them in no other\n character but that of a teacher of Christianity.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nTHE VISIT TO ENGLAND IN 1882\n\n\nFrom 1880 onwards Mrs. Gilmour suffered severely from illness, and\nmedical advisers recommended at length the rest and change of a visit to\nEngland. Mr. Gilmour's furlough was also nearly due. Consequently, in\nthe spring of 1882, he and his family returned to England. This visit\nwas helpful and memorable in many ways. The rest so thoroughly well\nearned was greatly enjoyed. The return to civilisation, the society of\nloved relatives and friends, the comforts of ordinary English life, and\nthe change of thought and occupation which these involved--all reacted\nhappily and refreshingly upon both Mr. Gilmour and his wife.\n\nBut a sojourn at home is not by any means a season of entire rest for\nthe jaded worker. The Churches constantly need the stimulus and\nawakening that are best supplied by the men who have been filling the\nhard places in the field. Gilmour also was so full of enthusiasm for his\nwork, and so eager in his desire to benefit the Mongols, that he would\ndoubtless have found for himself many opportunities of pleading their\ncause, had not the authorities of the London Missionary Society,\nfollowing their usual custom, furnished him with a long list of\ndeputation engagements, Into these he threw himself with an energy that\nvery greatly enlarged the circle of his friendship, secured very many\nnew supporters for the missionary cause, and obtained for himself, on\nthe part of many, a devout, prayerful sympathy for the remainder of his\nearthly service.\n\nHe had brought with him a large quantity of manuscript material dealing\nwith his twelve years of Mongol life and experience. From this he\nprepared the volume which was published by the Religious Tract Society\nin April 1883, under the title of _Among the Mongols_.\n\nThe book was very cordially welcomed by the press, and we single out for\nquotation a portion of one review which stands out pre-eminent not only\nfor its literary quality, but also as placing on record the impression\nJames Gilmour was able to make upon men entirely ignorant of him and his\nwork by the simple narrative of his experiences. It appeared in the\n_Spectator_ for April 28, 1883.\n\n 'We have a difficulty in passing judgment on this book. It is\n possible, even probable, that the impression it has made on us is\n individual to this reviewer, and due to an accident which, with\n other readers, will not repeat itself. Having time, and an interest\n in nomads, he read a page or two, and read on, and read on, for\n five hours, till he had finished the book,--which is much too\n short,--fascinated, lost, carried out of himself and England. He\n was in Mongolia, sitting under a blue-cloth tent, with savage dogs\n howling around, and gazing outside, through the doorless doorway,\n on a vast panorama of poor tufted grass, stretching away to huge\n black hills in the distance, and Tartars on camels, Tartars on\n horses, Tartars on springless, unbreakable ox-carts, hastening up\n to the encampment; while inside he listened to a quiet Scotchman,\n resignedly yet clearly explaining everything in a voice---- there\n was the puzzle. Where in the world had the reviewer heard that\n voice before, with its patient monotone, as well known as his\n oldest friend's, its constant digressions and \"reflections,\" its\n sentences so familiar, yet so new, sentences which, as each topic\n came up, he could write before they were uttered. \"James Gilmour,\n M.A.\" Never knew him, or heard of him; yet here was he, talking\n exactly as some one else had years ago talked a hundred times. So\n oppressive at last became the will-o'-the-wisp reminiscence, that\n the reviewer stopped, after an account of the Desert of Gobi, and\n deliberately read it through again, in search of a clue which might\n reawaken his memory. It was all in vain, and it was not till\n another hundred pages had been passed, always under the impression\n of that bewildering reminiscence, that he exclaimed to himself,\n \"That's it! Robinson Crusoe has turned missionary, lived years in\n Mongolia, and written a book about it.\" That is this book. To any\n one who, perhaps from early neglect, does not perceive this truth,\n our judgment will seem erroneous; but to any one who does, we may\n quite fearlessly appeal. The student of _Robinson Crusoe_ never\n expected that particular pleasure in this life, and he will never\n have it again; but for this once he has it to the full. Mr. James\n Gilmour, though a man of whom any country may be proud, is not a\n deep thinker, and not a bright writer, and not a man with the gift\n of topographical, or, indeed, any other kind of description. He\n thinks nothing extraordinary, and has nothing to say quotable.\n There is a faint, far-off humour in him, humour sternly repressed;\n but that, so far as we know, is the only quality in his writing\n which makes him _litt\u00c8rateur_ at all. But Heaven, which has denied\n him many gifts, has given him one in full measure,--the gift of\n Defoe, the power of so stating things that the reader not only\n believes them, but sees them in bodily presence, that he is there\n wherever the author chooses to place him, under the blue tent,\n careering over the black ice of Lake Baikal, or hobnobbing in tea\n with priests as unlike Englishmen as it is possible for human\n beings to be, yet, such is his art, in nowise unintelligible or\n strange. It may be, as we have said, that it is an individual\n impression, but we never read, save once, the kind of book in our\n lives, did not deem it possible ever again to meet with this\n special variety of unconscious literary skill. We are aware of a\n dozen shortcomings, of a hundred points upon which Mr. Gilmour\n ought to have given light, and has not; but there has been, if our\n experience serves us at all, no book quite like this book since\n _Robinson Crusoe_; and _Robinson Crusoe_ is not better, does not\n tell a story more directly, or produce more instantaneous and final\n conviction. Heaven help us all, if Mr. Gilmour tells us that he has\n met any unknown race in Mongolia, say, people with the power of\n making themselves invisible, for Tyndall will believe him, and\n Huxley account for them, and the _Illustrated London News_ publish\n their portraits--in the stage of invisibility. We do not say the\n book is admirable, or perfect, or anything else superlative; but we\n do say, and this with sure confidence, that no one who begins it\n will leave it till the narrative ends, or doubt for an instant,\n whether he knows Defoe or not, that he has been enchained by\n something separate and distinct in literature, something almost\n uncanny in the way it has gripped him, and made him see for ever a\n scene he never expected to see.\n\n 'We do not know that we have any more to say about the book. Its\n merit is that, and no other; and we do not suppose anybody ever\n proved _Robinson Crusoe's_ value by extracts. But we must say a\n word or two about the author and his subject. Mr. Gilmour, though a\n Scotchman, is apparently attached to the London Mission, and seems\n to have quitted Peking for Mongolia on an impulse to teach Christ\n to Tartars. He could not ride, he did not know Mongolian, he had an\n objection to carry arms, and he had no special fitness except his\n own character, which he knew nothing about, for the work.\n Nevertheless, he went, and stayed years, living on half-frozen\n prairies and deserts under open tents, on fat mutton, sheep's tails\n particularly, tea, and boiled millet, eating only once a day\n because Mongols do, and in all things, except lying, stealing, and\n prurient talk, making himself a lama. As he could not ride, he rode\n for a month over six hundred miles of dangerous desert, where the\n rats undermine the grass, and at the end found that that difficulty\n has disappeared for ever. As he could not talk, he \"boarded out\"\n with a lama, listened and questioned, and questioned and listened,\n till he knew Mongolian as Mongols know it, till his ears became so\n open that he was painfully aware that Mongol conversation, like\n that of most Asiatics, is choked with _doubles entendres_. As for\n danger, he had made up his mind not to carry arms, not to be angry\n with a heathen, happen what might, and--though he does not mention\n this--not to be afraid of anything whatever, neither dogs nor\n thieves, nor hunger nor the climate; and he kept those three\n resolutions. If ever on earth there lived a man who kept the law of\n Christ, and could give proofs of it, and be absolutely unconscious\n that he was giving them, it is this man, whom the Mongols he lived\n among called \"our Gilmour.\" He wanted, naturally enough, sometimes\n to meditate away from his hosts, and sometimes to take long walks,\n and sometimes to geologise, but he found all these things roused\n suspicion--for why should a stranger want to be alone; might it not\n be \"to steal away the luck of the land\"?--and as a suspected\n missionary is a useless missionary, Mr. Gilmour gave them all up,\n and sat endlessly in tents, among lamas. And he says incidentally\n that his fault is impatience, a dislike to be kept waiting!'\n\n[Illustration: A MONGOL CAMEL CART\n(_From a Native Sketch_)]\n\nThe book met with a ready and wide acceptance. It soon 'found its\npublic.' It was only to be expected that many of the friends and\nsupporters of the London Missionary Society would welcome it. And there\nare others, like the reviewer, who 'have time and an interest in\nnomads,' who were certain to consult it. But in addition to these\nspecial classes the book did good service in some cases, by deepening\nthe impression already made by other first-rate delineations of\nmissionary enterprise and endurance, and in others by creating respect\nfor missions and missionaries in minds hitherto strange to that feeling.\nIn various editions very many thousands of the book have been sold\nduring the nine years which have passed since the publication of the\nfirst edition.\n\nThe success of his book led to the suggestion that he might easily find\nmuch useful employment for his pen. He did contribute some papers to the\n_Sunday at Home_, _Pall Mall Gazette_, and other publications. But in\nthis, as in all other enterprises, loyalty to the great work of his life\nruled him. He soon came to the conviction that he ought not to take time\nfrom the work of winning souls, and spend it in writing papers and\nbooks--and from the moment of that decision he put mere literary work\nresolutely aside.\n\n 'I feel keenly,' he wrote in 1884, on his return to Peking, 'that\n there is here more than I can do, and writing must go to the wall.'\n And as late in his life as 1890 he added, 'I could have made, and\n could now make, I believe, money by writing, but I do not write. I\n settle down to teach illiterate Chinamen and Mongols, heal their\n sores, and present Christ to them.'\n\nTowards the end of 1882 James Gilmour entered upon a long series of\nmeetings on behalf of the London Missionary Society, consisting of\nsermons and addresses to Sunday School children on the Sunday, and\nspeeches at public meetings during the week. A long series of his\nletters written to his wife between November 1882 and March 1883 is\nstill extant, and they form an impressive record of the work considered\nsuitable for a wearied missionary at home in search of rest and change.\nHe visited Edinburgh, Falkirk, Glasgow, Liverpool, Kilsyth, Hamilton,\nPaisley, Dundee, St Andrews, Arbroath, Lytham, Aberdeen, Montrose,\nManchester, Hingham, Cambridge, Norfolk, and Southampton. And this list\nexhausts only a portion of his excursions on the effort to stimulate and\ndevelope the faith and the zeal of the churches at home. His wanderings\nbrought him into contact sometimes with relatives, sometimes with old\ncollege friends, now grave pastors fast hastening towards middle life.\nThe meetings he attended always added to the circle of his friends, for\nnone could hear his ringing voice, and feel the clasp of his hand, and\npass under the influence of his ardent enthusiasm on behalf of the great\nenterprise of the modern Christian Church without receiving an\nimpression never likely to be effaced.\n\nHe in turn experienced a strong and abiding spiritual refreshment from\nthis renewal, after twelve years' absence, of touch and fellowship with\nthe Christian life of Great Britain. His earnestness deepened, he\nstudied with intensest interest movements like the Salvation Army, then\ncoming into great prominence, and other agencies for improving the\nreligious life of the nation, and he rejoiced in all fellowship with\nother disciples of the Lord Jesus which had for its aim the\nstrengthening of the life of faith.\n\nHe rejoiced greatly when at infrequent intervals a Sunday came upon\nwhich he was entirely free from engagements. Such rare occasions he\nutilised very fully for spiritual edification. He was somewhat hampered\nin his possibilities on these days by the fact that his temporary home\nwas at Bexley Heath, and his strong Sabbatarian views never permitted\nhim to travel by rail or omnibus on the Lord's Day. The following letter\nshows how he passed one of these days.\n\n 'Yesterday being a fine day I left home at 7.15 A.M., walked to\n London (twelve miles), got to Spurgeon's at 10.30. Had a permit\n from a seat-holder, was close to the platform, heard a good earnest\n sermon, was introduced to Spurgeon in the vestry after service,\n went home to one of his deacons for dinner, there met an American\n who had under Mr. Moody been converted from drunkenness to God, and\n whose craving for drink was as instantaneously and as thoroughly\n expelled as the devils by Christ of old. After dinner visited\n Spurgeon's Stockwell Orphanages, then walked to Camberwell and\n dropped in, in passing, at the Catholic Apostolic Church and heard\n a sermon from a man who would have described himself as an Apostle,\n I suppose, and who ridiculed in a gentle and mild way the idea that\n all men were to be partakers of the Gospel blessings which he\n seemed to think were the special property of what he called \"The\n Church\"; walked on to Lewisham, heard Morlais Jones: and then\n walked home in the moonlight, arriving here footsore and weary\n about 10.20 P.M. I enjoyed the day very much, all but the last four\n or five miles home at night. I am thankful to find myself so\n strong. I had a warm bath and slept like a top.'\n\nThose who were privileged to entertain James Gilmour, if congenial, and\nthe old friends who were fortunate enough to secure him for even a brief\nperiod, often experienced his power of vivid and entrancing narration.\nHis twelve years of service had been very full of varied and uncommon\nexperience, and when in the vein he could make the hours pass almost as\nminutes. 'During this furlough,' writes Dr. Reynolds, 'I had several\nopportunities of intercourse with him, and listened to several of his\naddresses on the progress and need of missionary enterprise in the north\nof China and Mongolia, and was profoundly impressed by his earnestness,\nbut I was more deeply moved when in quiet _t\u00cdte-\u2021-t\u00cdte_ he unveiled some\nof his special experiences. I should like to mention one. He once had\ngreat hope of the conversion to God of a Mongol, who had given him his\nentire confidence, and who was suffering from cataract in both eyes.\nGilmour felt that this was a case in which surgical help might restore\nthe sufferer to at least partial sight, and he made arrangements that in\nthe escort of a Mongol the patient should find his way to the medical\ninstitution at Peking. He started on the pilgrimage when Gilmour, with\nhis brave young wife, were encamped in a great temporary settlement of\nMongols, who were in a state of considerable fanatical excitement\nagainst the new faith and its foreign teacher. Gilmour said, \"We prayed\nnight and day for the success of this experiment, and we arranged to\ncover all expenses connected with the arrangement.\" Alas! wind laden\nwith dust, and blinding heat and other apparent accidents conspired\nagainst the poor sufferer, and when the necessary time had elapsed after\nthe operation and the bandages were removed, the patient was found to\nbe _stone blind_. The Mongol companion stirred up the poor fellow's\nsuspicion by telling him that he knew why the Missionary had sent him to\nPeking. \"I saw,\" said he, \"the jewel of your eye in a bottle on the\nshelf. These Christians can get hundreds of taels for these jewels which\nthey take out of our eyes.\"\n\n'When the blind man was brought back to Gilmour, his companion spread\nhis suspicions and exasperating story in the entire district, and the\nfanatical hatred was augmented into seething and murderous passion, and\nour dear friends were in imminent peril for several weeks. If they had\nventured to escape, it would have been a confession of a vile conspiracy\nwith the Peking doctors, and a signal for their massacre. They remained\nto live down the ominous and odious charge, and in continuous effort to\njustify the simplicity of their motives and the purity and beneficence\nof their mission.\n\n'Deeply moved, as I was, by the story of this hairbreadth escape, I\nasked Mrs. Gilmour more about those fearful weeks of suspense, and she\nassured me that they had been perfectly calm, and that they were\nentirely resigned to God's will, whatever it might be.'\n\n'Many other trials of faith and patience were described by Gilmour,\nwithout one touch of self-approval or self-admiration, and the only\ntrouble that haunted him was that the results of his long journeys and\nof his various missionary enterprises had been apparently so few.'\n\nIt was certain that James Gilmour's power as a speaker would be utilised\nfor the great event of the London Missionary Society's year, the annual\nmeeting at Exeter Hall. This fell, in 1883, on May 10, and he was the\nlast speaker. This involved waiting about two hours and a half for his\nspeech, and corresponding exhaustion on the part of the audience. But\nnone who were present will forget the rapid way in which he secured the\nattention of his hearers, and the ease with which he held it to the\nclose. He chose to speak of work in China, rather than in Mongolia; the\nrecent publication of his book helping among other reasons to determine\nthis choice. Part of the speech deserves reproduction here, because it\noutlines very sharply the work that engaged much of his time while\nresident in Peking, and because nowhere else can such a realistic,\nsparkling, and lifelike picture of the preaching work of the Peking\nmission, and consequently more or less of all preaching in great Chinese\ncities, be found.\n\n 'In Peking we have three chapels. A chapel there is merely a\n Chinese shop, put into decent repair, and a signboard stuck over\n the top. The Chinese are very fond of giving themselves very high\n names. You will come to a man sitting in a little box scarcely big\n enough for himself to turn round in, and if you read his sign, it\n is some flowing name about a hall; it may be the \"Hall of Continual\n Virtue,\" or something of that kind, or the \"Hall of the Five\n Happinesses.\" So our title above our chapel just runs in the native\n idiomatic style, and it is the \"Gospel Hall.' Inside there is not\n very much to see. The counter has been cleared away and the\n shelves, and, in place of the mud, a brick floor has been put down;\n and then there are forms arranged for the sitters, and there is a\n low platform for the speaker. I do not know how it happens, but it\n does happen, that up in the left-hand corner of the chapel--and it\n is always the left-hand corner--there is a table and two chairs,\n and on that table there is a teapot and set of cups, because in\n China everything is done with tea. You must always begin in that\n way. These chapels are open six days in the week in the afternoon.\n\n 'Now, supposing you come in at the door, the natural thing for the\n missionary seems to be just to walk up to this table and sit down,\n and then the next thing is to get a congregation. Sometimes there\n is no difficulty about getting it, if it happens to be a fair day\n or there is a crowd in the streets. They simply pour in: but the\n tide goes different ways sometimes, and does not pour in always\n like that. I want to give you just a fair, square, honest idea of\n what the thing is. Sometimes the congregation will not come in, and\n sometimes, after a little while, one man looks in at the door and\n sees a foreigner, and he is off. He has seen quite enough and does\n not want to see any more; and if you were to ask him what he had\n seen, he would not say he had seen a foreigner; no, he would say he\n had seen \"a foreign devil.\" And, friends, you would not be very\n much astonished that some of those ignorant men coming from the\n country are alarmed when they see a foreigner, if you could only\n imagine the terrible lies that they circulate about us there; about\n how we take out people's hearts for the purposes of magic, and\n steal people's eyes to make photographic chemicals, and administer\n medicines to bewitch them generally. I say that, if the first man\n who comes to a chapel on an afternoon is a man who has heard these\n things, you cannot be astonished that all you see of that man is\n his back and his pigtail as he goes away.\n\n 'Another man sometimes comes--a bolder man, and he comes in, and\n the most natural thing for him seems to be to walk up to the table\n and sit down on the other side, and there you and he are a pair.\n The proper thing is to pour him out a cup of tea: that is\n etiquette, and the etiquette seems to be that he should not drink\n it. Sometimes, after the service begins, I see the native preacher\n come slyly up, as if he did not mean anything at all; and he walks\n up to the teapot, and lifts the lid quite quietly, and slips that\n tea back into the pot again, and puts on the lid and warms it up,\n and it is ready for the next man who comes.\n\n 'If you get into conversation with one man, the congregation is,\n for the most part, practically secured, because, though a Chinaman\n is very much afraid of being spoken to directly by a foreigner,\n most Chinamen are very curious to overhear any conversation that\n may be carried on; so if you are speaking to him, in comes another\n man to listen, and if you can get other men to come in and listen\n over each other's backs, very soon more come in than the original\n speaker cares to overhear his private conversation; and when that\n step is reached, it is time to go to the platform and ask the\n hearers to sit down and begin the regular service. Sometimes nobody\n comes in, and then you have to try something else, and that is to\n go and sit down a little nearer the door, and sometimes, in that\n way, gradually a few people come in. But then in Peking sometimes\n there is a great north-west wind blowing; and I think that is about\n the hardest thing on a man's congregation before he gets it,\n because, when the weather is unfavourable, there are not many\n people about, and so we have to adopt another plan. We do not go on\n to the streets, but inside the chapel the native preacher and I do\n our best to sing a hymn. I say do our best, because sometimes these\n native preachers do not succeed in singing very well; however, we\n succeed in making a noise, and that is the thing that draws. The\n people look in, and see what they suppose to be a foreigner and a\n native chanting Buddhist prayers. In they come; they have not seen\n that before, and they sit down, and, as soon as the hymn is\n through, we have the opportunity of telling them the contents of\n the hymn; and there you have your sermon ready to your hand.\n\n 'But suppose you have got your congregation, it is not all\n smooth-sailing water. Sometimes there are interruptions. Sometimes,\n just when you have the ear of your audience, all at once a\n tremendous row happens just outside the door, and the congregation\n jump to their feet and rush out to see what is going on. I could\n have told them if they had only asked me. No doubt, some unwise\n Chinaman, in place of coming straight in and sitting down, stood on\n the outskirt of the crowd on tiptoe. A city thief coming along\n says, \"Ah, there is my man,\" and he walks quietly up to him with a\n pair of sharp scissors, cuts off his tobacco pouch, and goes off\n with it. Of course, as soon as the man misses the pouch, his first\n impulse is to grab his next neighbour; that neighbour remonstrates,\n and then a fight commences.\n\n 'Sometimes a funeral passes, and that is almost as serious an\n interruption as a fight; because, although a Chinaman does not\n think much about his soul after he dies, he thinks a vast deal\n about his dead body, and, in order to be perfectly sure that he\n will not be cheated by the undertaker, he buys his coffin before he\n is sick, and sees that he has a good bargain. And so, having a good\n coffin, he wants a good funeral; and it is said some men spend\n nearly half of their fortune in having a grand procession when they\n are carried to their grave. When one of these enormous funerals,\n with a procession sometimes a quarter of a mile long, comes by, it\n is a very bad job for your congregation. Out they go to have a look\n at it.\n\n 'Then the interruption is sometimes another thing, and this last\n one is a more difficult case to settle. When one of the upper ten\n thousand in China has a marriage, they want to have a great\n exhibition; and after they have bought the furniture, they get and\n hire a great many men, and have them dressed to carry that\n furniture in procession along the streets and show it to their\n neighbours. First comes a great wardrobe, and then a little\n cupboard, a washstand, a square table, and all sorts of furniture.\n Now when that comes, what are you to do? They have been at the\n expense of paying for an exhibition for their neighbours to see,\n and they feel that it would be unneighbourly if they did not step\n to the door and look out and see the things carried past, and there\n goes your congregation. Sometimes unusual interruptions happen. I\n remember once a woman put her head in at the door. Women do not\n come to these chapels often--I am very glad they do not. That woman\n put her head in at the door, and I saw danger. She glared round the\n place, and then she spied one man, and she shouted out something at\n him: \"Come out of that!\" and, friends, he came out of that, in a\n big hurry, too. He disturbed us very considerably. It was not the\n woman so much as the man--we all pitied him as he went out.\n\n 'Those audiences are very mixed, and they are very curious to your\n eyes. Sometimes I see those audiences, most of whom we do not know\n anything about, listening to what I have to tell them, quite as\n still as you are now--their pipes out, the smoke cleared away. They\n lean forward and listen just as still as audiences in this country\n sometimes listen when the preacher, in an interesting discourse, is\n coming up to a division of his subject. And, friends, let me tell\n you what it is that makes them listen best of all--it is the\n central doctrine of the truth of Christianity. When we come to tell\n them of how Christ left the surroundings of heaven, and came to\n spend so many years in such very poor, unsympathetic company on\n earth (and that is a subject that a missionary sometimes can talk\n feelingly upon when he has been in a foreign country for some\n time), when we can tell them that, and then come to the last and\n greatest part of all: how Christ allowed Himself, for love of man,\n to be nailed to the cross, and not only that, but kept in Him that\n gentle spirit that made Him pray for those who were putting Him to\n death--oh, friends, when we come to that and tell them of it--I\n know that a Chinaman is degraded, corrupt, sensual, material, but\n he has a human heart; and when you can get at the heart, it\n responds to the story of the Cross. We want to do something in\n drawing the net, and so, on this table in the corner, there is a\n pile of books, and as it gets towards the time to close, I say to\n the friends, \"Now, you will soon be going away to your evening\n meal; and as I am a foreigner, probably you have not understood all\n that I have said;\" and then I say, \"Now, before you go, there are a\n number of books upon this table, where you will find the whole of\n this subject put down in black and white; will you just come up and\n have a look at the books before you go?\" We want, if possible, to\n establish a point of contact with them, and so to get a little\n private conversation, as it were. If you ask them to come up and\n look at a book, and they ask the price of it, you have an\n opportunity of talking to them, and some of these men not only buy\n the books, but they read them and come back for others.\n\n 'Now, how does the matter stand? These heathen have been in our\n chapel, and we have taken the opportunity of putting some of the\n truth into their hearts; but I know a good part, much, it may be,\n of what the man has heard when he goes out--well, it is stolen\n away, or it is trampled under foot; but some part of it remains.\n\n 'And now I can come to the practical part. I have not been trying\n to entertain you, but I have been trying to interest you, and what\n I want to impress upon you is this: after those men have left the\n chapel you can do as much for their conversion as we can do in\n China. I want you to pray for the conversion of these men to whom\n we in Peking, and others in other parts of the world, are the means\n of communicating these truths of Christ. I believe it is not only\n the earnestness of the missionary that is going to produce results,\n but it is your earnestness here. We are your agents, and I\n believe, fervently, we shall have results there in direct\n proportion to the measure of your earnestness here. I believe I am\n speaking to the right people when I ask you to pray. Unprayed for,\n I feel very much as if a diver were sent down to the bottom of a\n river with no air to breathe, or as if a fireman were sent up to a\n blazing building and held an empty hose; I feel very much as a\n soldier who is firing blank cartridge at an enemy, and so I ask you\n earnestly to pray that the Gospel may take saving and working\n effect on the minds of those men to whose notice it has been\n introduced by us. Not long ago, at the close of a local\n anniversary, when we had been having a meeting, as we were going\n home, three of us got off a tram-car--two ministers of the locality\n and myself--and, as we were walking along, one said: \"Ah, Gilmour,\n it is all the same over again; it is just the old thing; you\n missionaries come, and you have an anniversary, and the people's\n earnestness seems to be stirred up, and you ask their prayers, and\n it looks as if you would get them, but,\" he said, \"you go away, and\n the thing passes by and is just left where it was before.\" I do not\n think that was quite correct. I think my brother was labouring\n under a temporary fit of the blues, and I was very glad to find his\n companion said it was not quite correct. What I want is this, to go\n back to my work feeling that there are those behind us who are\n praying earnestly that God's Spirit would work effectually in the\n hearts of those to whom we have the privilege of preaching. If you\n pray earnestly you can but work earnestly, and then you will also\n give earnestly; and I do not think we can be too earnest in the\n matter for which Christ was so much in earnest that He laid down\n His own life.'\n\nThe month of June and part of July was spent at Millport, a\nwatering-place on the west coast of Scotland, near the lovely scenery\nof Arran. On July 4 he ascended Goatfell, and in so doing had an\nadventure which might have had very serious consequences. He started\nlate, lost his way, but finally reached the summit at 8.45 P.M., and\nthen, as he notes in his diary: 'Fog came on nearly at once with rain\nand thunder. Sat in the lee of a dripping rock on a wet stone and looked\nat a couple of acres of fog and granite boulders. Very dark and cold\nabout midnight, the time wore on very slowly, more rain dripping, and\nfog. At 2 o'clock A.M. I began the descent, and in a short while it was\nlight enough to see. Came on all right, and saw where I had missed the\nway.... I have not caught cold. I was wet all night, but kept wrapt up\nin my plaid and as warm as I could manage. Next day the minister\ncongratulated me on being seen alive after my Goatfell adventure.'\n\nOn September 1 the return voyage to China began, and Peking was reached\non November 14.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nSUNSHINE AND SHADOW\n\n\nIn Peking the old familiar round of mission duties recommenced. Gilmour\nafter his absence of eighteen months was the same man, and yet not the\nsame. He yearned for fruit in the conversion of souls, and he began to\ndevote himself with more eager self-denial than ever to the winning of\nChinamen's hearts for the Saviour. The winter of 1883-1884 was spent in\nPeking, and his diary is full of incidents illustrative of the time and\neffort he gave to dealing with individuals.\n\nIn February, 1884, he made one of the most remarkable of his Mongolian\njourneys. He visited the Plain, travelling on foot, and thus subjecting\nhimself to risks and hardships of a very serious order. But he had good\nreasons for his method, and he sets them forth with his usual clearness.\nPossibly no other journey of his life more strikingly testifies to his\nstrict sense of duty, the unsparing way in which he spent himself in its\ndischarge, and his eager desire to win souls.\n\n 'On this occasion, partly owing to the shortness of the time at my\n disposal, which made it hardly worth while to set up an\n establishment, and partly owing to the peculiar season of the year,\n which would have made it difficult to find pasture for travelling\n cattle, I determined to go on foot, without medicines, in a\n strictly spiritual capacity, and not seeking so much to make fresh\n acquaintances or open up new ground as to revisit familiar\n localities and see how far former evangelistic attempts had produced\n any effect. In addition there were some individual Mongols who have\n been taught a good deal about Christianity, and on whom I wished\n once more, while there was still opportunity, to press the claims\n of Christ.\n\n[Illustration: A CHINESE MULE LITTER]\n\n 'Five cold days in a mule litter brought me to Kalgan, and another\n day in a cart took me up over the pass and landed me in a Chinese\n inn on the Mongolian plain. This inn has no separate rooms; the\n guests all share the ample platform of the kitchen, and sleep on\n straw mats laid over the brickwork, which is heated by flues\n leading from fires on which their meals are cooked. The Chinese\n innkeeper was an old friend of mine, and he permitted me to share\n his room with him. From this, as a centre, I was able to make\n expeditions to four Mongolian settlements.\n\n 'My first visit was made to a lama whom I have known for years, and\n who has been instructed in Christianity by others, both before and\n since I made his acquaintance. He is a man of influence, wealth,\n and leisure, and, though a priest, has a wife and child. I spent\n almost a whole day with him, and hardly know what to think about\n him. He seems to admit that there must be a God of the universe,\n and admits that Christ may be a revelation of Him, but in the same\n sense in which Buddha was. From one part of his conversation I was\n almost led to believe that he had been praying to Jesus, but I\n could get him to make no such admission. I fear that the inquiring\n spirit of former years has given place to a spirit of indifference.\n He has everything he wants, he has little or no care, seemingly; he\n is content to let things drift, and keeps his mind easy. If he were\n only waked up he might do much for his countrymen.\n\n 'My second visit was to a temple and cluster of tents, where I\n found some old acquaintances; was politely received, but nothing\n more.\n\n 'My third visit was to another cluster of tents, where I was at\n once hailed as the doctor, and, _nolens volens_, compelled to\n examine and prescribe for a number of diseases. Some cures\n accomplished years before explained the enthusiasm of the friends\n there, but for spiritual results I looked in vain.\n\n 'My next expedition was to a place some miles--say eight--away.\n Some years ago, in stormy weather, Mrs. Gilmour and I, soaked out\n of our tent, had found shelter in the mud-house of a Mongol, who\n refused to take anything for the use of his building, remarking\n that we would be going and coming that way afterwards, and that\n then we might give him a present of some foreign article or other.\n I had sent him a few things, but had never since personally visited\n him, and when I reached the settlement I was grieved to find that\n the old man was dead. His son, a lad of twenty-three, had succeeded\n to his estate, and his small official dignity and emoluments, and\n received me in a most remarkably friendly way. He was just starting\n from home, but on seeing me gave up all idea of his going away,\n and, insisting on my staying in his tent for the night, spent the\n remainder of the day with me.\n\n 'Next day, slinging on one side a postman's brown bag containing my\n kit and provisions; on the other an angler's waterproof bag, with\n books, &c.; and carrying from a stick over my shoulder a Chinaman's\n sheepskin coat, I left my landlord drinking the two ounces of hot\n Chinese whisky which formed the invariable introduction to his\n breakfast turned my face northwards, and started for a twenty-three\n miles' walk to the settlement which, for some summers in\n succession, has furnished me with men and oxen for my annual\n journeys. Now the Mongols are familiar with the\n\n Russians, who, as tea-agents, reside in Kalgan; they have seen many\n passing foreign travellers on horses, camels, and in carts; they\n have seen missionary journeys performed on donkeys and ox-carts;\n but I think that that morning for the first time had they seen a\n foreigner, with all his belongings hung about him, tramping the\n country after the manner of their own begging lamas. There were few\n people to meet on the road, but those I did meet asked the\n customary questions in tones of great surprise, received my answers\n with evident incredulity, and, for the most part rode away\n muttering to themselves, _You eldib eem_, which may be translated\n to mean, \"Strange affair.\" My feet, through want of practice, I\n suppose, soon showed symptoms of thinking this style of travelling\n as strange as the Mongols did, and were badly blistered long before\n the journey was over.\n\n[Illustration: JAMES GILMOUR EQUIPPED FOR HIS WALKING EXPEDITION IN\nMONGOLIA IN FEBRUARY 1884]\n\n 'An occasional rest and a bite of snow varied the painful monotony\n of the few last long miles; the river was reached at last, and,\n crossing it, I was soon in front of the cluster of huts I had come\n to visit, and on looking up I was agreeably astonished to find that\n the first man to come out to meet me was the mandarin of the\n district. He was soon joined by others, and, rescued from the dogs,\n I was escorted to his tent, seated before the fire, and supplied\n with a cup and full tea-pot. I had intended to drink tea in his\n tent only for form's sake; but his tea was good, the snow seemed\n only to have increased my thirst, the man himself was sincerely\n friendly; under the circumstances my stoicism broke down, and the\n mandarin's tea-pot was soon all but empty. Meanwhile, his tent had\n been filling with friends and neighbours, to whom the news of my\n arrival had spread, and in a little while I had round me a\n representative from nearly every family in the village. Among the\n others came my two servants--the priest and the layman who had\n driven my ox-carts for me. Escorted by these I went to another\n tent, rested there awhile, and then moved into a mud-built house.\n The priest I had come to visit was busy lighting a fire which would\n do nothing but smoke, and the room was soon full. Finding him\n alone, I told him that I had come to speak to him and my other\n friends about the salvation of their souls, and was pressing him to\n accept Christ, when a layman I also knew entered. Without waiting\n for me to say anything, the priest related the drift of our\n conversation to the layman, who, tongs in hand, was trying to make\n the fire blaze. Blaze it would not, but sent forth an increasing\n volume of smoke, and the layman, invisible to me in the dense\n cloud, though only about two yards away, spoke up and said that for\n months he had been a scholar of Jesus, and that if the priest would\n join him they would become Christians together. Whether the priest\n would join him or not, his mind was made up, he would trust the\n Saviour. By this time the cloud had settled down lower still. I was\n lying flat on the platform, and the two men were crouching on the\n floor--I could just see dimly the bottom of their skin coats--but\n the place was beautiful to me as the gate of heaven, and the words\n of the confession of Christ from out the cloud of smoke were\n inspiriting to me as if they had been spoken by an angel from out\n of a cloud of glory.\n\n 'But neighbours came in, duty called the blackman (layman) away,\n the evening meal had to be prepared and eaten, and it was not till\n late at night that I had opportunity for a private talk with him\n who had confessed Christ; and even then it was not private, because\n we were within earshot of a family of people in their beds.\n\n 'Of all the countries I have visited Mongolia is the most sparsely\n peopled, and yet it is, of all the places I have seen, the most\n difficult to get private conversation with any one. Everybody, even\n half-grown children, seems to think he has a perfect right to\n intrude on any and all conversation. Bar the door and deny\n admittance, and you would be suspected of hatching a plot. Take a\n man away for a stroll that you may talk to him in quiet, and you\n would be suspected of some dangerous enchantment. Remembering that\n one must always have some definite message or business to perform\n when he travels, and hoping to be able to do something with this\n same blackman, I had purposely left, in the Chinese inn, some\n presents which I could not well carry with me, and after a day's\n rest the blackman and I started to bring them. That gave us\n twenty-three miles' private conversation, and a good answer to give\n to all who demanded, \"Where are you going?\" \"What to do?\" He gave\n me the history of the origin and growth of his belief in Christ. I\n taught him much he did not know, and at a lonely place we sat down\n and lifted our voices to heaven in prayer. It was the pleasantest\n walk I ever had in Mongolia, and at the same time the most painful.\n My feet broke down altogether. It was evident I could not walk back\n again the next day, so, acting on my follower's advice, by a great\n effort I walked into the inn as if my feet were all right; we\n bargained for a cart and, the Chinaman not suspecting the state of\n my feet, we got it at a reasonable rate. Mongols and Chinese joined\n in explaining to me how much time and labour I would have saved if\n I had hired a cart at first, taken everything with me, and not\n returned to the inn at all. From their point of view they were\n right; but the blackman and I looked at the thing from a different\n standpoint. We had accomplished our purpose, and felt that we could\n afford to let our neighbours plume themselves on their supposed\n superior wisdom.\n\n 'Another day's rest at this place gave me what I much wanted--an\n opportunity for a long quiet talk with the mandarin of this small\n tribe. I was especially anxious to explain to him the true nature\n of Christianity, because the Mongol who professes Christianity\n lives under his jurisdiction, and I felt sure that a right\n understanding of the case might be of service in protecting the\n professor from troubles that are likely to come to him through men\n misunderstanding his case. The mandarin came. On my last visit I\n had been the means of curing him of a troublesome complaint over\n which he had spent much time and money; in addition, I had brought\n him a present from England. He was perfectly friendly and\n exceedingly attentive, and at the close of the conversation asked\n some questions which I thought evinced that he had somewhat entered\n into the spirit of the conversation. He is a man of few words, but\n from what he said I hope that he feels something of the truth of\n Christianity.\n\n 'My next expedition was to a mandarin of wealth and rank, whose\n encampment occupies a commanding site on a mountain-side\n overlooking a large lake. I found him at home, and, as he knows\n well the main doctrines of Christianity, my main mission to him at\n this time was to try and rouse him to earnestness of thought and\n action in regard to his personal relation to Christ. We spent great\n part of the afternoon in earnest talking, and I was much pleased\n with the manner in which he, from time to time, explained to\n another mandarin, who was there as guest, doctrines and facts which\n were alluded to in our conversation. Next morning he started on a\n journey connected with the business of his office, and I returned\n to my friendly quarters where I had left my belongings.\n\n 'I felt it laid upon me to visit two lamas at a temple some seventy\n miles from where I was, and started next day. I reached the temple\n in three days, and found that both the lamas I had come to see were\n dead. So, as far as they were concerned, I was too late. Both on\n the road, however, and at the temple itself, I had good\n opportunities for preaching and teaching. I met some interesting\n men, and not only in tents where I was entertained as guest, but\n sometimes out in the open desert, stray travellers would meet me,\n dismount from their horses, and give me occasion for Christian\n conversation. Five days completed this round, and after another\n day's rest I started back for Kalgan, escorted for ten miles by him\n who had professed Christ. We walked slowly, as we had much to say.\n Arrived at the parting place, we sat down and prayed together. I\n then left, and the last I saw of the poor fellow, there he was,\n sitting in the same place still. I reached Kalgan without\n adventure, and returned to Peking on March 21, having been away\n just over a month.'\n\nPossibly the most touching comment upon this extraordinary journey is to\ngive some of the brief entries which refer to it in the diary.\n\n '_February 19, 1884._--Started in a litter for Mongolia. Good talk\n in inn with innman.'\n\n '_February 23._--Went to Mr. Williams. My letter had not reached\n them. No one knew I was coming.'\n\n '_February 25._--Over the Pass to Barosaij.'\n\n '_February 26._--Spent the day with Tu Gishuae. Urged on him the\n internal proof of Christianity--the change of heart.'\n\n '_February 28._--Shabberti. Boyinto Jaugg\u00c8 has desire to become\n scholar of Jesus.'\n\n '_March 1._--Walked here. Feet terribly bad. Snow on the road.\n Great thirst. Badma Darag met me. Tea in his tent. Boyinto's\n confession in the smoke of the _baishin_.'[4]\n\n[4] Fire in the centre of the tent.\n\n '_March 2._--Sabbath. Quiet day. Much talk with all. The Lord\n opened my lips.'\n\n '_March 3._--Walked to Barosaij with Boyinto to bring my presents.\n Talk about Christianity. Prayer in the desert. Feet terribly bad,\n oh, such pain in walking.'\n\n '_March 4._--Carted back.'\n\n '_March 7._--Hara Oss. Walked back here. Called on Tu Lobsung.\n Talk. He knew the way to heaven, but said, \"Tell it to some of the\n younger ones.\" \"You go first,\" I replied. \"You most need to know.\"'\n\n '_March 8._--Terrible feet. Got to Chagan Hauran.'\n\n '_March 14._--Boyinto accompanied me to Chagan Balgas with his\n pony. Saw him sitting as long as I was in sight. Feet bad.'\n\n '_March 21._--Left Pei Kuan at 4 A.M. Dark and snow. Terrible march\n over slippery stones. Nan Kou at 7 A.M. No donkey on such a snowy\n day. Hired the next twenty-seven li. Stiff march. Shatto at 11.35.\n Terrible march to Ching Ho at 3 P.M. Terrible march to T\u00cd Sheng\n M\u00cdn. Home at 6.10. Prayer Meeting. Thanks be unto God for all His\n mercies.'\n\nEarly in 1885 Mr. Gilmour's heart was rejoiced by the tidings of the\nbaptism of Boyinto, the Mongol to whom reference has been repeatedly\nmade above. Although Gilmour's was not the hand to administer the rite,\nundoubtedly the conversion was the result of his work. On January 26,\n1885, he received a letter from the Rev. W. P. Sprague, of the American\nMission at Kalgan, part of which we quote.\n\n\n 'Kalgan: Jan. 14, 1885.\n\n 'Dear Brother Gilmour,--I hasten to tell you the very good news.\n Boyinto of Shabberti was baptized by my hand this day into the\n Church of Christ, here at Kalgan, in the presence of our assembled\n church and congregation. I'm sure you will rejoice and thank God\n more than any of us. And I never saw our Christians so happy to\n receive any one into the Church. The only thing I regret is that\n it should not be your hand instead of mine to administer the sacred\n rite.\n\n 'I wrote you of his visit to us a month ago, and his application to\n join the Church here, and our satisfaction with his appearance. He\n turned up again yesterday morning, and spent all day with us. In\n the afternoon we had, by previous appointment, a union meeting of\n upper and lower city congregations, as a continuation of week of\n prayer meeting, because the interest was so great. Mr. Roberts\n preached, and in the after part of meeting, when two or three\n others had risen for prayers, I asked Boyinto if he wanted to ask\n Christians to pray for him, and he arose and expressed his desires,\n including wanting to be baptized very plainly. We called church\n meeting at close of the service, and proceeded to examine him for\n admission to Church. He answered so well as to please every one,\n making some happy hits, as when asked what sort of a place heaven\n was, replied, \"I haven't been there--how can I tell?\" Then said,\n \"Would any one pray to go there if it were not a good place?\" But\n his straightforward, open simplicity was refreshing. There seemed\n no reason for thinking he was other than an honest\n believer--seeking to follow Jesus in all things. The native church\n members first responded with enthusiasm that he was a most fit\n candidate for receiving to the Church, and expressed great delight\n at finding a Mongol who loved and trusted our Saviour. So we felt\n with Peter, \"Can any man forbid water that these should not be\n baptized?\" The others then asked me to baptize him on the morrow,\n when we were to have another union meeting at our place. And could\n you have seen his rising and answering my questions, give assent to\n creed and covenant, and then see him remove his cap and bow his\n head reverently and receive the water of baptism, your heart would\n overflow with gratitude and praise to God for this first fruit\n from Mongolia. After prayer we sang \"From Greenland's icy\n mountains,\" changed to \"From Mongolia, &c,\" and we felt it as never\n before.\n\n 'Though God has thus given us great pleasure in gathering this\n first fruit, still I feel, and we all feel, that the honour of the\n work belongs to God, and the reward to you and others.'\n\nDuring 1884 and 1885 the regular work of the Peking mission occupied\nalmost the whole of his time, the Rev. S. E. Meech being in England on\nfurlough, and most of his duties therefore falling upon Mr. Gilmour.\nDuring his stay in England he had attended many of the Salvation Army\nmeetings, and had caught much of their spirit. He had also come to the\nconviction that men needed to be dealt with individually rather than in\nthe mass. Hence he gave much time to conversation, to teaching single\npersons the Christian catechism and the New Testament, and endeavouring,\nby talking and praying with them, to lead them to a knowledge of the\ntruth. From six in the morning until ten at night he was at the service\nof all comers. In the afternoon he attended one or both of the Peking\nchapels, preaching if there were the opportunity, but always eagerly on\nthe alert for any individuals showing signs of interest in the Gospel.\nIt had been the custom of the missionaries to reserve the Sunday evening\nfor an English service, devoted to their own spiritual refreshment.\nThis, which was held in the mission compound, he ceased to attend, even\nalthough his absence sometimes made it impossible to hold the service,\nin order that he might find time to read and talk and pray with his\nChinese servants. Frequently the meal-time would find him thus engaged,\nbut the meal had to wait until his visitor had left, or until the\ninterview came to its natural close. He ceased to read all newspapers\nexcept those distinctively Christian. He found no time for books, as he\nfelt that direct work for the Chinese should fill the hours he might\notherwise devote to reading. He became more wholly than ever the man of\none book--the Bible--and so absorbed did he grow in this close dealing\nwith souls that in the earlier stages of his wife's illness he felt\nconstrained to place it before even her wish that he would remain by her\nat periods of severe suffering and weakness.\n\n '_December 9, 1883._--At chapel met Wang from a place 300 li away\n down in the country. He had heard a sermon there two or three years\n before which he remembered, and could quote. I began the service,\n and brought him up here to my study. We were talking when another\n man, Jui, came in from 130 li north of Peking. He had to run away\n from home on account of misconduct. These two kept me till dark.'\n\nIn a letter to the Rev. S. E. Meech, dated November 9, 1885, Mr. Gilmour\nrefers to a number of these individual cases in which he has been\ninteresting himself, and the way in which he has dealt with them. It\nillustrates his method of close and careful dealing with each native.\n\n 'Ch'ang attends Sunday and Friday services. My opinion about Ch'ang\n is that he wants mission employ. He has no expectation of that from\n me, and little from Rees. I think, too, that he does not mean to\n break with Christianity or with us, and I faintly hope that his\n experiences with us will do us good, though they have been most\n painful to us. I think you'll find him much more tractable than he\n would have been had he not been through these troubles with us.\n\n 'Hsing has had the devil putting philosophic doubts into him. I\n have pressed him to pelt the devil with Scripture, as our Master\n did.\n\n 'Li, shoemaker, I _do_ like. He cannot stay to Sunday service. I\n take him before service therefore.\n\n 'Fu does well. Last Friday he remained after prayer-meeting, and\n talked till 9.40 about all manner of things secular and sacred. He\n has most pleasant remembrances of Emily--Emily, too, liked him.\n\n 'Jui Wu, the powder magazine man, is in a more hopeful case. He may\n come all right yet.[5]\n\n[5] Fu is now (1892) an evangelist, and Jui Wu a dispenser, in the\nChi Chou Mission.\n\n 'Old Tai nearly went, but will now, I think, remain till you come.\n He wants to tiffin with me on Sundays, and enjoys much four, five,\n or six small cups of good strong tea with milk and sugar. He is\n growing in grace.\n\n 'Young Tai I am detaining after his father goes and reading with\n him and teaching him. He gives up his trade for the day, and I want\n to give him a good day.\n\n 'Chao Erh attends well and is improved in circumstances.\n\n 'Lu Ss[)u] is in his old trade, and doing well. He comes on Sundays\n when he comes. He was the man I hoped least of, and as yet he\n pleases me almost most.\n\n 'Lama comes to-morrow to finish reconstructing Mongol catechism. I\n may go on a two months' journey to Mongolia, starting in December.\n I'll have to see the children to Tientsin in February, and want to\n meet you.\n\n 'Hs\u00b8s as they were.[6]\n\n[6] Father and son; the only native preachers in the West City of\nPeking at that time.\n\n 'I am very much encouraged and thankful about the little Church. I\n can honestly say that I have tried to do my best for it during\n your absence, and God has encouraged me a good deal in it. I have\n reaped some that you have sown, and have endeavoured to sow\n something for you to reap when you return.\n\n 'I sometimes have deep fits of the blues when I think of the\n children, but their mother was able to trust Jesus with them, and\n why should not I?\n\n 'The Mongol work, too, has entered on a new phase, and that opens\n up a new future for me. It is a formidable affair. I don't think\n I'll go to Kalgan or that region. I fear no doctor would stay with\n me there. I may go away North-east. I can hardly tell yet.\n Meantime, with God's help, I hope to do another month's work in\n Peking, and then hand the thing over to Rees once for all. Most of\n my books I'll sell. What use are they to me? I never have time to\n read them, and am not likely ever to have.'\n\nThe letter just quoted was written after the sad event to which we must\nnow refer. Towards the close of the summer of 1885 Mr. Gilmour awoke to\nthe fact that one of the heaviest sorrows of his life was coming upon\nhim. For some years past Mrs. Gilmour had been subject to severe attacks\nof pain. The visit to England and the rest and change of the old home\nlife had in a measure restored her. But hardly were they comfortably\nestablished in their old Peking quarters ere some of her most trying\nsymptoms reappeared. With that brave heart and resolute spirit\ncharacteristic of her whole missionary career, for a time she gave\nherself to the duties of the mission and bore her full share of its\nanxieties and toils. But gradually she was constrained to recognise that\nher active work was over. From the first she had thrown herself\nwhole-heartedly into missionary Service. She could converse fluently\nwith the Mongols, having acquired their language in the same way as her\nhusband, by enduring repeatedly all the privations of life in a Mongol\ntent. She had impressed them by her fondness for animals, by her\ngentleness of spirit, and by her evident interest in all that bore upon\ntheir own welfare. In Peking she had laboured hard among the women and\ngirls, both in the matter of education and also of direct religious\ninstruction. A very bitter element in her cup of sorrow was the\nconviction gradually forced upon her that her power to do this work was\nfast slipping away. In a letter to her sister, Mrs. Meech, then in\nEngland, dated May 2, 1885, she gives the first clear expression to this\nfeeling: 'I would have written before, but I have been ill for about six\nweeks; not actually ill, except one week, but not able to do anything\nexcept the children's lessons and the harmonium on Sundays sometimes.\nAll the rest has had to go. I am sorry, but it can't be helped. How long\nit will last I don't know. I can't get stronger, so I must be content to\nbe tired. I am nothing more than weak, and a great many people are that.\nThere has been a grand revival here. It seemed to pass like a mountain\ntorrent, while I had only to look on and see. My only wonder was that\npeople had lived so long without the happiness that they might have had\nfor the taking. I didn't want to go to the meeting, I felt so weak and\nunable to bear the tension of spiritual excitement. But as it was it\ndidn't tire me at all, but made me love a lot of the people. May the\nChinese feel the flood tide of new life that has come into Peking! And\nthey must, there can be nothing to hinder it.'\n\nThe reference in the last part of this letter is to a great deepening\nof spiritual life that took place among the missionaries, and also among\nsome of the European residents in Peking.\n\nThe first explicit reference by Mr. Gilmour to his coming sorrow occurs\nin the Diary; but in his report, sent home a month later, and dated\nAugust 4, 1885, he wrote: 'Mrs. Gilmour is very ill, and now very weak.\nI fear all hope of her recovery is taken away. Her trouble is a\nrun-down, but the serious complication is her lungs. We are at the hills\nin a temple with another family, the Childs. Mrs. Child came out in the\nsame ship with Mrs. Gilmour, when, as Miss Prankard, she came first to\nChina. Mrs. Child renders invaluable service to the sick one.'\n\nIn the Diary the following entries show the course of sorrowful\nevents:--\n\n '_July 4, 1885._--It really dawns upon me to-day in such a way that\n I can feel it that my wife is likely to die, and I too feel\n something of how desolate it would be for me with my motherless\n children sent away from me. Eh, man!'\n\n '_August 22._--Emily spoke of being sometimes _so_ happy. She is\n quite aware now she cannot recover.'\n\n '_September 13_, Sunday, Peking.--Emily saw all the women. She felt\n very weak to-day. Remarked at 7 P.M.: \"Well, Jamie, I am going, I\n suppose. I'll soon see you there. It won't be long.\" I said she\n would not want me much there. She said fondly she would. \"I think\n I'll sit at the gate and look for you coming.\" Said she has been\n out for the last time. Asked me not to go to chapel, but went.'\n\n '_September 17._--To-day, in the morning, I promised Emily that I\n would remain home from the chapel and give her a holiday. She was\n _so_ pleased. We had a most enjoyable afternoon. She was so happy.\n She sat up for an hour or so, and we conversed about all things,\n the use of the beautiful in creation, &c.'\n\nAll the next day Mrs. Gilmour slowly sank, and soon after the midnight\nof September 18 passed peacefully within 'the gate.' The story of the\nclosing scene was thus told by her husband:--\n\n\n 'Peking: Saturday, September 19, 1885.\n\n 'My dear Meech,--Emily crossed the river last night, or this\n morning rather at 12.15.\n\n 'I was called in from the Friday evening prayer meeting just as it\n was concluding, and found her with laboured breath and fixed eyes.\n For a time we thought it was all to end at once. After a time she\n got over it.\n\n '10 P.M. was a repetition of 8 P.M.'s experience.\n\n 'At 12 midnight she was labouring much in her breath, coughed a\n very little cough, and all at once the rapidity of her breath\n nearly doubled, suddenly her hand fell over powerless, her eyes\n became fixed, there was some difficult breathing, and with Mrs.\n Henderson on the one side of the bed, which had been moved when we\n came from the hills into the sitting-room, she departed.\n\n 'During these four hours she spoke little; once or twice she called\n for milk, but for the most part contented herself with assenting or\n dissenting to and from my remarks and suggestions by moving the\n head.\n\n 'At 10.30, seeing me sleepy and desiring to sleep herself, she\n asked me to go and lie down, but I said I would not do so while she\n was so ill.\n\n 'I asked her if she felt all safe in the hands of Jesus. She nodded\n her assent.\n\n 'Some month or six weeks ago we two had talked about everything to\n be done in case of her death, the children, etc., and not only\n then, but more than once we had talked over spiritual things,\n because we feared that when the end came she might not be able to\n speak. I am glad we did so. During these four hours she was either\n in such great distress, or, when free from distress, was so tired\n and eager to sleep, that talking was hardly possible.\n\n 'The \"Rest\" she so longed for she has now got.\n\n 'I treasure what she said one day when she had been, I think,\n reading her wall text, \"T_o me to live is Christ, to die is gain_,\"\n when I asked her if _she_ felt it so. She said she did, and often\n would remark that to go would be far better for her, but she was so\n eager to get well for my sake and that of the children. For\n herself, too, she was more and more enchanted with the beauty God\n had put in the world. On Friday I went in, she waved her hand and\n said, \"What beauty!\" It was some flowers on the table. A bunch of\n grapes, a beauty, filled her mouth with praise to God for all His\n goodness to her. The post waits. Funeral Monday.\n\n 'Yours in sorrow,\n 'J. GILMOUR.'\n\n\nMrs. Gilmour was buried on September 21. Her faith was clear and strong.\nUncommon as their courtship had been, the subsequent married life was\nvery happy. She was the equal of her husband in missionary zeal and\nenthusiasm, and he himself bears testimony to the unerring skill which\nshe possessed in gauging the moral qualities of the Chinese. She gave\nmuch time and labour to Christian work among the women and girls in\nPeking; and her husband was greatly helped in his work during the nearly\neleven years of married life by her sound judgment, her strong\naffection, her loving Christian character, and her entire consecration\nto the Lord Jesus Christ.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nA CHANGE OF FIELD\n\n\nDuring 1885 James Gilmour gradually reached the conclusion that a change\nof field was desirable. He was aware that friends and colleagues more or\nless qualified to form an opinion had urged upon him the advisability of\nlabouring in Eastern Mongolia among the agricultural Mongols. No one\nknew so well as himself the advantages and the disadvantages of this\nplan. The reasons that finally led him to a decision were noble and\ncharacteristic. It was a hard field, and no one else could or would go.\nThe Mongols of the Plain were to some extent benefited by the American\nMission at Kalgan; those dwelling in Eastern Mongolia were without a\nhelper. Considerations like these, as he tells us, decided his new\ncourse of action.\n\n 'In these circumstances my mind has turned away north-east from\n Peking, where people are not so scarce, and where the Mongols live\n as farmers. I have been to that region twice. I knew some people\n who came from that region. As soon as Mr. Rees returns from Chi\n Chou I hope to go again. A doctor might be induced to settle\n somewhere there, and though it would be hard a bit, a family might\n live there too, which I don't think would be possible on the plain\n beyond Kalgan.\n\n 'I am fully aware of the difficulties. They are:--\n\n '1. I have no proper Chinaman to take with me. More than half the\n population is Chinese, and I could not do well without a Chinaman.\n\n '2. It is a new district and will take time to work up.\n\n '3. It is not easily reached from Peking or anywhere else, and will\n be a very isolated part.\n\n '4. It is rather a rough and unsafe district.\n\n 'I know all these, but feel, in reliance on God, like facing the\n thing as the best and proper thing to do. There are inns all about,\n and though for some time a private location may not be secured, we\n can still go about among the people. My main hope, though, is in\n settling down somewhere as a head centre, in close contact with the\n people, so that I earnestly desire that the doctor should come. If\n he is unmarried I would be glad to see him to-morrow. Could you not\n get a doctor who would be willing to remain single till a location\n could be secured? After a location has been secured let him marry\n if he likes.\n\n 'I think that the region I have in my mind would make a good centre\n for a doctor, and that he would have plenty of practice among\n Mongols and Chinese, especially if he could start a hospital for\n in-patients.\n\n 'I am very glad that the Mongolian region around Kalgan has shown\n signs of bearing fruit. It has strengthened my faith much. I am\n also glad that God has acknowledged in some degree my work here in\n Peking, and I feel more hopeful than ever I did. God, too, has cut\n me adrift from all my fixings, so that I feel quite ready to go\n anywhere if only He goes with me.'\n\nMr. Gilmour entered upon this new departure on the understanding that a\nmedical colleague should be sent to him at the earliest possible moment.\nThis responsibility the London Board assumed and endeavoured to\ndischarge. The result was a severe trial to the faith, not only of the\nsolitary worker but to all interested--and they were many--in the fate\nof the new mission. As we shall see later on, when a congenial and\ncompetent medical colleague reached him, and was entering with vigour\nand hope upon the work, Dr. Mackenzie of Tientsin suddenly died, and\nbefore the immediate and urgent claims of Tientsin the claims of\nMongolia had to give way. But in estimating the success of both\nmissions, that on the Plain, and that in Eastern Mongolia, it must never\nbe forgotten that what Gilmour considered _essential_, the presence and\nhelp of a medical colleague, was never in the Providence of God granted\nto him for any length of time. In the account he gives of his first\nvisit to the region as its missionary--he had been twice before on\nvisits of inspection--he dwells upon this necessity.\n\n 'I left Peking December 14, 1885, and re-entered Peking February\n 16, 1886, so that my absence from here was just two months. The\n part of Mongolia I went to is situated 800 li, or say 270 English\n miles, north-east by east of Peking, and, at the usual rate of 90\n li (or 30 miles) a day, is nine days distant. This is not the part\n of Mongolia near Kalgan. Kalgan is north-north-west of Peking, five\n days' journey.\n\n[Illustration: MAP ILLUSTRATING JAMES GILMOUR'S LABOURS IN EASTERN\nMONGOLIA]\n\n 'Whilst I was considering my plans a Mongol appeared in Peking who\n was willing to take me to his home, and I went with him, hoping\n thus to get introduced to a district of country, an introduction\n being both necessary and helpful. Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u] is the name of\n the place where, through his introduction, I was located from\n December 23, 1885 to February 9, 1886. I had a room in an inn. I\n spent some days at the home of my Mongol friend and made two\n journeys to other places, but Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u] was my headquarters.\n It is a small market town, with a daily fair. The surrounding\n neighbourhood is peopled with Mongols and Chinese in about equal\n proportions. The Mongols are mostly lords of the soil, and style\n the Chinese slaves, that is in the country. The real trade of the\n whole locality is in the hands of the Chinese. The Mongols all\n speak Chinese, and the town resident Mongols have, many of them,\n forgotten Mongolian, and laugh at themselves as not being able to\n speak their own language.\n\n 'The country is like Wales in this respect, that, though Mongolian\n is the native language, the coming language and the language that\n is affected and sought after, is Chinese. Well-to-do Mongols have\n Chinese teachers for their children, and read Chinese well. During\n my stay there I sold more Chinese than Mongolian books, and talked\n more Chinese than Mongolian, though my intercourse was largely with\n Mongols.\n\n 'Opium is largely grown there, so is tobacco, and large quantities\n of whisky are manufactured and consumed. It was partly a famine\n year. At a little distance from Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u] the harvest had\n failed, and I think the line of preaching that seemed to impress\n the hearers most was one that reasoned with them about the growth,\n manufacture, and use of these three, being so contrary to Heaven's\n design in giving land and rain to grow food, that it was not to be\n wondered at if, seeing how the land and rain were perverted, God\n should send short rations. Evil speaking, vile language, made a\n fourth subject which naturally came in for notice, and on all these\n four subjects I scarcely ever spoke without gaining the nearly\n universal concurrence of my little audiences.\n\n 'The great theme, however, was Christ, and I think that most men in\n that little market town, and a great many of those who used to\n come to the fair, both heard and understood the great gospel truth\n of salvation in Jesus.\n\n 'Eager to see some more of the country, and in the hope that I\n might be able to talk to him on the way, I hired a Mongol to carry\n my bedding and books, and made a descent on a village thirty miles\n away. The general cold of the winter was aggravated by a snowstorm\n which overtook us at the little market town, and I have no words to\n tell you how the cold felt that day as I paraded that one street. I\n sold a fair number of books, though my hands were too much benumbed\n almost to be able to hand the books out. I made some attempts at\n preaching, but the muscles were also benumbed--that day _was_ a\n _cold_ day.\n\n 'I was turned out of two respectable inns at Bull Town because I\n was a foot traveller, had no cart or animal, that is, and had to\n put up in a tramps' tavern because I came as a tramp!\n\n 'Next journey I made I hired a man and a _donkey_. The donkey was\n my passport to respectability, and I was more comfortable too,\n being able to take more bedding with me. I was warned against going\n to Ch'ao Yang, sixty miles, the roads being represented as unsafe;\n but I went and found no trouble, though there was a severe famine\n in the district. I spent a day each at two market towns on the way,\n and two days in Ch'ao Yang itself.\n\n 'The journey home I made on foot, a donkey driven by a Mongol\n carrying my bedding and books. I adopted this plan mainly to bring\n myself into close contact with the Mongol. He proved himself a\n capital fellow to travel with, but as yet has shown no signs of\n belief in Christ. As we did long marches my feet suffered badly.'\n\nIn a private letter written at this time he enters a little more fully\ninto what he had to endure.\n\n 'I had a good time in Mongolia, but oh! so cold. Some of the days I\n spent in the markets were so very cold that my muscles seemed\n benumbed, and speech even was difficult. I met with some spiritual\n response, though, and with that I can stand cold. Eh! man, I have\n got thin. I am feeding up at present. I left my medicines, books,\n &c., there, and walked home here, a donkey carrying my baggage, a\n distance of about three hundred miles, in seven and a half days, or\n about forty miles a day, and my feet were really very bad.\n\n 'At night I used to draw a woollen thread through the blisters. In\n the morning I \"hirpled\" a little, but it was soon all right. I\n walked, not because I had not money to ride, but to get at the\n Mongol who was with me.'\n\nThese graphic pictures enable us to realise how Mr. Gilmour began the\nlast great missionary enterprise of his life. He returned to Peking, and\nthen had to pass through that severe trial which comes to almost all\nmissionaries in the foreign field, which is often one of their heaviest\ncrosses. His two eldest boys were sent home for education. They sailed\nfrom Tientsin March 23, 1886, the diary for that day containing the\nbrief but significant reference: 'At 6.45 A.M. came all the friends once\nmore, at 7.30 cast off, and the vessel slowly fell out into the middle\nof the river. Oh! the parting!' But at 8.30 on the same morning the\nsorrowful father had started on his solitary return journey to Peking.\nBereft now of both wife, and boys he was to pass the rest of his career\nin China, except for the brief intervals of residence in Peking, in the\ncheerless, noisy, uncongenial quarters of an ordinary Chinese inn. The\nreturn of the Rev. S. E. Meech in April 1886 set him entirely free from\nmission work in the capital. He had already acquired the needful\nexperience of his new field of labour, and on April 22, 1886, he started\nanew for Eastern Mongolia. It is neither necessary nor desirable to\nenter into any very detailed description of the next three years. In\nmany respects day after day was occupied with the round of ever\nrecurring and similar duties, but it is desirable to enter, if we can,\nwith some minuteness into his inner life, and to lay bare the spiritual\nsources and springs of his outward actions. It is in these, in our\njudgment, that the true beauty, the abiding lesson, and the great\nsuccess of his life consist. And this he has enabled us to do. In a\nprivate, not an official, letter to the Rev. R. Wardlaw Thompson, the\nForeign Secretary of the London Missionary Society, he indicates his\nactions and the motives that were impelling him so to act, during the\nsummer of 1886. Differences of opinion arose with his fellow\nmissionaries as to the wisdom of his methods and the soundness of his\njudgment. Those who differed most strongly from him knew little or\nnothing by personal observation and experience of the conditions of work\neither on the Plain or at Ch'ao Yang. But no question ever did or ever\ncould arise as to the absolute consecration of his heart and life to the\nwork of winning souls. The truth of the words in one of his official\nreports was manifest to all: 'Man, the fire of God is upon me to go and\npreach.'\n\n 'The past four and a half months has been a time of no small trial\n and spiritual tension. Since April 22 I have had no tidings of the\n outer world. An agent of the Bible Society, who was selling books\n in the district, was with me for a month, but he had gone out\n before me, so that when we met he had no news for me, but wanted\n news from me.\n\n 'Some men, who gave promise of believing in Jesus, have fallen\n away, and I have a haunting suspicion that it was one such man who,\n on the morning of Sunday, June 6, stole my beautiful copy of the\n revised Bible, leaving me till now with only a New Testament in\n English. I had much difficulty in procuring that Bible, and wasn't\n it heartless of a Chinaman to steal it for the leather binding, for\n which even he could have hardly any use? I said not a single word\n to anyone in the town about it, as I feared that making trouble\n over it would hinder me in future, by making innkeepers afraid to\n receive me, lest they should be held responsible for such losses. I\n can hardly say though, that, at first at least, I took joyfully the\n spoiling of my goods. Secret tears testified to my sense of the\n loss, but falling back on the faith that all things work together\n for my good, I was comforted, and gave the more earnest heed to the\n New Testament.\n\n 'Then the Chinese would ask, \"How many people have believed and\n entered the religion since you left Peking?\" and such questions\n kept before my mind painfully how slowly things move, and drew out\n my soul in more painful longing for God's blessing in the\n conversion of men.\n\n 'In the beginning of July I must have got a touch of the sun.\n Nearly all that month I was ill, but just then was the great annual\n fair at Ch'ao Yang, so, ill and all, I had the tent put up daily\n and dispensed medicines. My assistant, however, had to do most of\n the preaching; I had not much strength for that. The first three\n weeks in August I had diarrh[oe]a and dysentery. I was at Ta Ch\u00cdng\n Tz[)u]. There was no fair, and but poor market gatherings, but,\n weather permitting, we put up our tent daily and did good work.\n Paul says (Gal. iv. 19), \"My little children, of whom I am again in\n travail until Christ be formed in you,\" and he is right. It is a\n carrying of men in prayer until the image of Christ is formed in\n them; and how many of them prove abortions.\n\n 'One of the converts at Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u] caused me no little\n anxiety. I knew that he professed to be impressed last winter. He\n said he wanted to call on me in my inn and tell me his\n difficulties. I was eager to get home, but as he said he would have\n no leisure before a certain date, I waited till then, nearly a\n week, for almost no other purpose than to see him. He never came,\n and I trudged back to Peking downcast about him.\n\n 'This year when we came to Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u] on our way to Ch'ao\n Yang, on going to his place for breakfast (he is one of two\n brothers who own and manage a restaurant, and both of them, and a\n third brother, are members of a sect which forbids opium, whisky,\n and tobacco), we were shown into the more private part, and he and\n his brother and the cook set upon us to inquire more fully about\n Christianity, how to enter it, etc, etc. This took me by surprise,\n and made me so glad that my breakfast for the most part remained\n uneaten, though we had travelled eight hours that morning. In the\n evening I did not go for a meal, and my assistant on going was met\n at the door by the inquirers, and so engaged in conversation about\n Christianity that darkness set in, the cooking range was closed,\n and the establishment shut for the day before they were finished.\n My man had no dinner. Next day we went on towards Ch'ao Yang\n thankful and happy. These restaurant people had a few days before\n been visited by the Bible Society's agent, and had derived much\n Christian benefit from his Chinese assistant.\n\n 'Our interview with the restaurant men was on Monday. In Ch'ao Yang\n next Sunday, just six days after being, so to speak, on the mount\n of transfiguration with these Chinamen, on dismissing the few\n hangers-on that remained at the close of the afternoon preaching,\n and stepping down from the little vantage-ground from which I had\n been speaking, one of the audience said he would go home with me to\n my inn, as he had come with a letter to me from Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u]\n from the Bible agent. I went to the inn, read the letter, and found\n that he and his Chinese helper had differed, and he had come to Ta\n Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u] seeking me. He needed and asked my help, so next day I\n started for Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u], and on arriving there found that the\n little place was full of the news of the quarrel between the\n Christian foreigner and the Christian native. That was bad, but,\n worse still, on going to the restaurant I found the earnestness of\n the inquirers gone, and one of them said openly, \"If this is the\n sort of fruit that Christianity bears, what better is it than any\n other religion?\"\n\n 'In a later visit paid in May they seemed colder still, and the\n place where I had hoped to gather fruit seemed barren and hopeless.\n\n 'In August we again visited Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u]. I was blue. The fever\n of July, the defection of the Mongol donkey man, who failed to come\n for us, the diarrh[oe]a, which on the journey changed to dysentery,\n being baffled in attempting to find suitable quarters in Ta Ch\u00cdng\n Tz[)u], and the chilled hearts of the restaurant men, made our\n entrance not cheerful. On the way my assistant and I had talked\n over matters, and resolved by prayer and endeavour to see what\n could be done for the restaurant men. Just ten days after our\n arrival the eldest brother called on me in my inn and said,\n \"To-night I dismiss my gods, henceforth I am a Christian. I am\n ready to be baptized any day you may be pleased to name.\"\n\n 'I cannot say what a relief these words brought me. There still\n remained anxieties in his case, but in a day or two things came out\n all right, and day by day in public in the restaurant he might be\n seen studying his catechism when unemployed, and speaking for\n Christianity to all who asked what book that was.\n\n 'He is a leading spirit, though a poor scholar, and was the deacon\n or head of the branch of the sect in Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u], called Tsai\n li ti. There are some twelve or sixteen members. Most of them\n joined the sect through his endeavours, and he is eager to rear up\n Christianity in the same way. You will partly understand now how\n anxious I am about him. If he goes on all right, we may soon have a\n little company of believers there. If he falls away--well, all\n things work together for my good.\n\n 'One thing that moved these restaurant men towards Christianity was\n an incident which happened in their establishment last winter. A\n half-drunk Chinaman reviled me badly one evening at dinner. He laid\n to my charge many bad and grievous things. Though they were utterly\n false as regards me, they might be quite true of some other\n foreigner whom he may have met. It was useless to reason with a\n drunken man over a case of mistaken identity, so I said nothing,\n ate my dinner, paid my bill, and went to my inn. The restaurant men\n were very wroth with the man, they told me afterwards, and felt\n like \"going for\" him themselves, and never forgot what they were\n pleased to call my patience. In God's providence this little\n incident seems to have been an important factor in impressing them\n with favourable ideas of Christianity.\n\n 'Another thing which seems to have impressed them was their seeing\n me this August, day by day at my post in my tent, carrying on the\n work, when they knew I was ill, and, according to their ideas,\n should have been in bed. I was not really so ill as all that, but\n that was their idea. I would be very glad to have another reviling\n and another attack of dysentery if the same results would follow.\n\n 'The profession of the other adherent at Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u], and the\n moving of the hearts, seemingly at least, of other two men who\n live at a distance, and had to leave for home suddenly before\n receiving full instruction, but of whom I try to have hope, have\n all moved my heart and seem answers to a great longing I had been\n crying to God about, namely, that He would give me power to move\n these heathen. Oh that He would do it!\n\n 'I have felt it my duty to become a vegetarian on trial. I don't\n know whether I can carry it out. The Chinese look up so much to\n this supposed asceticism that I am eager to acquire the influence a\n successful vegetarianism would give me, and I am trying it in true\n Chinese style, which forbids eggs, leeks and carrots, &c. As far as\n I have gone all is well. I am a little afraid that the great\n appetite it gives may drive me to eat till I become fat. We'll see.\n\n 'The mothers bringing their babies moves me much. It reminds me of\n scenes in Peking when another and more skilful hand ministered to\n their diseases; then the picture of the family surroundings fills\n itself up, and I have to seek a place where to weep.\n\n 'Altogether it is a sowing in tears. The district is not an easy\n one, the life which the work entails is a hard one. There is no\n hardship or self-denial I am not ready to \"go in for,\" but I want\n you to understand me and let me have your sympathy.'\n\nThis long extract, not too long we venture to think, as enabling us to\nsee into the heart of the man, raises several points of great moment.\nNothing could illustrate better his eagerness to get into close touch\nand perfect sympathy with the people. He had long before adopted the\nnative dress of an ordinary shopkeeper or respectable workman. He now\nadapted himself, as far as possible, to the native food. He lived on\nsuch as the poor eat. Often he would take his bowl of porridge, native\nfashion, in the street, sitting down upon a low stool by the boiler of\nthe itinerant restaurant keeper. The vegetarianism referred to was, as\nhe indicates, very thoroughgoing and in accord with Chinese ideas.\n\nThe great poverty of the people also pressed upon his attention the\nenormous waste induced by whisky drinking, and by the smoking of tobacco\nand opium. The sect Tsai li ti referred to was a small organisation\namong the Chinese for endeavouring to secure entire abstinence from all\nthree. It did not seem tolerable to him that the level of Christian\nmorality and practice with regard to these things should be lower than\nthat of the heathen. Famine often visited those parts, and he came to\nhold the view that men could hardly pray, 'Give us this day our daily\nbread,' with any hope of a favourable answer, or even reasonably expect\nGod's blessing upon their tillage of the soil, while they continued to\nuse a large part of the grain produced in the manufacture of strong\ndrink, and while they continued to set apart large districts for the\ncultivation of tobacco and opium. Hence, at first, he made entire\nabstinence from all three an indispensable requisite for admission into\nthe Christian Church.\n\nIt was hardly to be expected, perhaps, that his colleagues in the North\nChina Mission would be able to see eye to eye with him on these points.\nWith regard to opium the opinion as to abstinence is unanimous. With\nregard to the other two, the prevailing opinion was that, however\ndesirable entire abstinence may be, it is not authoritatively commanded,\nand ought not to be made an indispensable qualification for baptism.\n\nIt seemed to some of them that there was danger of the heathen\nconfusing Christianity with their own Tsai li ti. In reply to such a\nsuggestion Gilmour wrote: 'My hearers not know the difference between\nTsai li ti and Christianity! Thanks be to God, this whole town and\nneighbourhood has rung with the truths of Christianity. Children, men,\nshop-boys, and, of all people in the world, a lad gathering grain stumps\nin the fields a long way off--it has been my lot to hear them repeat\nsayings of mine, when they saw me, and did not think I could hear them.'\n\nInto this controversy as a mere discussion we have no desire to enter.\nBut to enable the reader to know Mr. Gilmour exactly as he was it\ndeserves more than a passing reference. The following may be taken as an\nexample of many letters that passed on this subject.\n\n 'I start perhaps on Tuesday. Pardon me for expressing myself on one\n matter--the Chinese teetotal business. You and some of my\n colleagues seem to me as if I could not move you on this question.\n It is a great grief to me. I think you are not right in your ideas\n about this. I suppose you can beat me in argument. I am still more\n than ever convinced that teetotalism is _right_ and _needful_ for\n the success of native Christian life in China. We have some painful\n instances here of that among the natives--specially two--one of the\n two hailing from Tientsin.\n\n 'I don't know your Tientsin Church history, but if it is anything\n like ours here you would find men standing nowhere almost as to\n Christian character, who but for drink and its concomitants might,\n humanly speaking, have shone. And yet these are men to get whom out\n of sin Christ died--brethren, for whom Christ died.\n\n 'Pardon me again when I take a short cut to what I want to say: \"_I\n believe were Christ here now as a missionary amongst us He would\n be an enthusiastic teetotaller and a non-smoker._\"\n\n 'Tobacco is comparatively a harmless matter, but it is not so\n unimportant as it seems to us foreigners. Whisky should go, and I\n feel that the Chinese would be quite ready, if led, to turn both\n whisky and tobacco out together. They are born brothers in China,\n _useless_, and _acknowledged_ to be such; harmful as far as they\n are anything, and comparatively expensive.\n\n 'I would like to see you start in your church an anti-tobacco and\n whisky society; voluntary, of course, in a church established as\n yours on the old lines. Though I stand alone, I believe the flowing\n tide is with me.\n\n 'Wishing you many souls in 1887, and eager that no minor difference\n of opinion should hinder our prayers.\n\n 'Yours I-hardly-know-how-to-say-what,\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\nIn the _Chinese Recorder_, for which he had been in the habit of writing\nfor many years, he published a paper in which he set forth with great\nclearness and fulness his views on this important matter. It deserves a\nplace in the story of his life because in it he has sketched, as no one\nelse could, himself, and some of his later methods of evangelistic\naddress.\n\n 'In December, 1885, in a district of North China new to me, I found\n myself preaching to a small crowd of Chinese and Mongols in a small\n market town. I was in a lane leading on to the main street. At my\n back was a mud wall, in front and at both sides was the audience,\n within hearing was the main street, above, a bright sun made the\n place warm and cheerful. After listening a while the audience\n wanted to know how good seasons could be secured. To the truths I\n had been preaching they had listened with respect and fair\n attention, but at the first opportunity for speaking they wanted to\n know how to get a good harvest.\n\n 'At first I paid little attention to this question, but after a\n little while it was asked again, and that by several men in\n succession, and I soon found that the people of the place had\n little room for anything else in their thoughts. There was good\n reason for it too. Their last harvest had been a poor one.\n Three-tenths was about the yield. They too with their three-tenths\n were comparatively well off. Some distance from them the yield had\n not been more than two-tenths, and a little beyond that again,\n there were fields which had been sown, but never reaped. There had\n been nothing to reap. Nothing had grown. I passed some of these\n fields afterwards and saw them. Was it wonderful then that the main\n thought in their minds should be the harvest failure, and that they\n should be mainly anxious to know how to secure a good season next\n year? Looking at my audience I saw that nine-tenths of them were\n poorly clad. Nearly one-half of them were quite insufficiently\n clothed, and many were in garments suited to summer weather only. I\n was in a sheepskin coat and felt shoes, and even thus was not too\n warm, and could not help thinking how cold they must be, in their\n torn clothes and ordinary shoes. In addition to this they seemed\n hungry. I dare say perhaps one-half of them were in actual\n suffering from deficiency of food.\n\n 'Taking these things into consideration, I did not regard their\n great and often-repeated question, \"How about the harvest?\" as\n impertinent, and set myself to answer it. When the question was\n again asked I replied by asking another, namely, \"_Do you think you\n deserve good harvests?_\" This question usually made them stare and\n ask, \"Why should not we deserve good harvests?\" and I would reply,\n \"In the first place, because of that _tobacco pipe in your mouth_.\"\n A laugh of incredulity would usually pass round the audience, but\n when done laughing, and asked to consider the folly of spending\n money buying a pipe and tobacco when the smoker was shivering in\n his rags, and hungry, and especially when asked what was the good\n of smoking, they laughed no more. When pressed to say where the\n tobacco came from, they would admit that the cultivation of tobacco\n took up no small proportion of their better-class land, and when\n pressed to say how much land was given up to tobacco cultivation,\n they would admit, what did not seem to have occurred to them\n before, that the amount of land given up to tobacco cultivation was\n very large. How large it was I had no conception till the following\n summer, when, walking round the suburbs, I would look over the low\n mud walls of their gardens, and be amazed at the expanse of land\n covered with the great, broad green leaf of the flourishing tobacco\n plant.\n\n 'Putting these things before my audience, they would admit that the\n cultivation of tobacco was a misuse of a large portion of their\n better land, that in cultivating and using tobacco they were doing\n what was wrong, and hindering heaven from feeding them. Heaven had\n given them good land and good rains for the purpose of growing\n food. The growth of tobacco was defeating heaven's purpose, and as\n long as they did so, what face had they to ask for good seasons? To\n take good land and plant it with tobacco, with what face could they\n ask heaven to send rain, seeing that if rain came, what grew would\n not be grain but tobacco, a thing which they themselves to a man\n admitted was no use at all? And so my audience would admit that as\n preliminary to getting or even expecting a good harvest was the\n discontinuance of the use and growth of tobacco.\n\n 'In the course of a year and a half of outdoor preaching in streets\n and at fairs, and private conversation with individuals, I never\n met an audience that defended tobacco as useful, and do not think I\n met more than three individuals who had anything to say in its\n defence. Almost everyone, smokers included, admitted its\n uselessness. Many do not seem to have thought the cultivation and\n use of it any harm, or having any bearing on the question of food\n supply and good harvests; they usually regarded it as simply a\n piece of extravagance on their own part, which had no bearing on\n anything or anybody beyond themselves. But when pointed out to them\n they readily admit that tobacco cultivation lessens the production\n of grain, and as readily admit that the wrongdoing in this misuse\n of land is likely to further harm the harvest by offending heaven\n into being unwilling to send rain. I myself never used to look on\n smoking as any great evil, till led into this district, and thus\n forced to study the subject. In England I had never seen tobacco\n grown. A smoker there spends a few coppers, and smokes; what harm\n does he do? Does not he increase trade and help the revenue? His\n smoking seems to harm no one but himself. Such were my thoughts.\n But in this district I see the cultivation of tobacco limiting the\n supply of grain, thus raising the price of food, and consequently\n making men go hungry. In addition I see men, women, and sometimes\n children, in rags and hungry even, with pipes and tobacco, and when\n they complain of heaven not supplying them with enough food to eat,\n it would be less than honest not to point out to them that the\n fault lies not with heaven, but with themselves, and that part at\n least of the scarcity of grain they experience is due to the\n cultivation and use of tobacco, which throughout that whole region\n is very excessive.\n\n 'I have dwelt thus at length on the tobacco question, not because\n it is the most important of the three things here spoken of, but\n because many good brethren have not been able to see with me on\n this point. They feel, as I used to do before I went to that\n region, that tobacco smoking is a small affair, not worth raising\n into prominence or the region of conscience or Christian duty at\n all. These brethren have not _seen_ how things work. I feel sure\n that almost any missionary placed as I was would have done exactly\n what I have done, taken a stand against this excessive growth and\n more excessive use of tobacco, for, not content with what they\n grow, they actually import quantities of it. Tobacco is not the\n greatest cause of poverty and hunger in the district, but it is a\n much greater factor in poverty than would at first be supposed. But\n for its use in that district a large number of men, women, and\n children, who are deficiently clothed and fed, would be warm and\n sleek. Christ taught men to pray, \"Give us this day our daily\n bread.\" It must be wrong to make hundreds of men, women, and\n children go half clad and half fed, simply that eighty or ninety\n per cent. of the adults of that district may indulge in tobacco, a\n thing, according to their own admission, utterly without use, and\n for the continuance of which they can give no reason, further than\n that they have acquired the habit and find it difficult to give it\n up.\n\n 'A more serious question, however, is the whisky. In going into\n that region I was amazed at the quantity of whisky used. I used to\n lodge in an inn and take my meals in an eating-house. There, twice\n a day, I had an opportunity of studying the drinking habits of the\n country. Almost every man who entered the eating-house first called\n for a whisky warmer. Supplied with that, he would go out and buy\n his whisky, coming back he would set it in the charcoal fire to\n warm, and then slowly drink it from the tiny wine cups common in\n China, inviting me to join him, and wondering at a man who could\n evidently afford it, not treating himself to two ounces of whisky,\n and wondering still more when he learned that I did not use\n tobacco. It would be an exaggeration, but not a great\n exaggeration, to say that every man who entered the eating-house\n began his meal by drinking whisky. In replying to the question put\n by my street audiences as to how they were to get good harvests, I\n would ask them, after finishing the tobacco question, \"How about\n your whisky drinking?\" Frequently they would anticipate me in this,\n and say, \"If tobacco is wrong, how about whisky?\" To convince them\n of the wrong of whisky was never difficult. To ask good harvests\n from heaven, then take grain given by heaven for food, and turn it\n into whisky, they did not need me to tell them this was wrong. And\n there in that district it is a very crying wrong. The quantity used\n is immense. Not only does it seem so to me, but natives from other\n parts of China are struck by the excessive use of it.\n\n 'The first time I travelled in the district, I was struck by the\n manner in which they described the size and amount of trade of\n towns about which I made inquiries. Such and such a place had or\n had not a distillery and pawnshop. Such and such a town had so many\n distilleries, and so many pawnshops. One travelling about the\n country soon notes that nearly every imposing trading establishment\n with grand premises seen from afar is either a distillery or a\n pawnshop, or both combined. The bank notes current among the people\n are issued, at but a small percentage, by distilleries and\n pawnshops. The first crop to ripen in the district is barley, and\n that, the natives will tell you, all goes to the distillery. On the\n road you will meet large carts drawn by six or seven mules. The\n load is grain, and of these carts a large number are owned by\n distilleries, and go round the country collecting grain, from which\n to brew whisky. One of the first things to be heard in the morning\n after daylight, in a quiet market town, is a peculiar beating of a\n wooden drum. Ask what it means, and you will be told it is such\n and such a distillery calling its hands to breakfast. Ask how many\n hands they have, and you may find that one establishment has some\n sixty or seventy men who eat their food! The whisky trade is simply\n enormous. It is out of all proportion to every other trade. The\n women as a rule do not drink, the men do all the drinking--the\n males I should say, for not a few boys acquire the habit of taking\n whisky to their meals long before they can be called men. A very\n few men do not use whisky at all. The poorer agricultural labourers\n drink it only when they can get it, and just as much or as little\n as they can get. Many men take regularly two ounces--Chinese\n ounces--to each meal. Many take more. Many well-to-do people drink\n half a catty per day. Others drink a whole catty.[7] Some drink a\n catty and a half a day. A small proportion of the male population\n find drinking a greater necessity than eating. These are usually\n elderly men, but as I write I can think of two men, both young, and\n both Mongols, one a priest, the other a layman, who have arrived at\n this advanced stage of whisky drinking.\n\n[7] A Chinese weight equal to one pound and a third.\n\n 'This excessive use of whisky has impoverished many families, and\n has demoralised many men. It has caused many quarrels, and given\n rise to many lawsuits. The evil caused by whisky is apparent to\n all, but custom requires that friends should be honoured by being\n offered whisky, business should be transacted over whisky, and the\n general saying is that without whisky nothing can be done. A\n farmer, for example, adding a few rooms to his buildings must\n supply his masons and joiners with whisky. Thus in universal use,\n the quantity consumed is immense. The quantity of grain used in the\n distilleries is almost beyond computation, and I don't remember\n ever meeting a Chinaman who did not admit that to distil whisky was\n to do evil. They ask me how to get good harvests. I tell them;\n \"Give up abusing the grain you have got, before you ask for more.\n If heaven sees you taking a large part of your superior land for\n raising the useless tobacco, and taking a very large proportion of\n the grain sent you as food, and using it not to eat, nor to feed\n animals, but distilling it into the hurtful whisky, do you think\n heaven, seeing all this waste going on, is likely to hear your\n petitions and increase the supply of what you now waste so large a\n proportion? If you bought food for your child, and he ate only half\n and threw the other half to the pig, would you be likely to buy him\n more just then, even though he might say he was hungry?\" This\n reasoning seems quite satisfactory and convincing to them, and\n never fails to secure their expressed assent.\n\n 'As to opium I never find it necessary to say much. All admit it to\n be only and wholly bad. Yet the quantity grown in the district is\n immense. In the early spring the very first movement of cultivation\n is the irrigation and working of the opium land, and at the season\n nearly all the best land blazes with bloom of the poppy. It is a\n sight to see the country people going to the markets with the\n \"_milk_\" in bowls and basins, and the buyers and sellers of it\n riding along, each with a weighing-balance stuck in his belt.\n Government restriction there is none, the duty imposed is not very\n heavy, and public opinion raises no voice against it. It was\n originally grown, say the natives, so as to keep money from going\n out of the district in buying imported opium, but the more it was\n grown the more it was used, and now the quantity raised and smoked\n is immense. There is a small proportion of farmers who have good\n land, suitable for growing opium, but who do not grow it. But these\n men are few, and as a general rule the very best pieces of land are\n set apart for the cultivation of opium. The common conscience of\n the people tells them this is a wrong thing. When therefore they\n ask how to get a good harvest, they themselves acknowledge that\n the reply is just, which says, \"First leave off the waste of\n heaven's grace involved in the growth and manufacture of opium,\n whisky, and tobacco, and then, and not till then, will it be\n reasonable for you to ask heaven for more bountiful harvests.\"\n\n 'In connection with all this, there is another fact that must not\n be forgotten. Drinkers of whisky, and smokers, especially of opium,\n the better the year is, the more they indulge. In a poor year they\n use less whisky and opium; the better the year, and the cheaper\n tobacco, whisky, and opium are, the more they use, so that in place\n of making a proper return to heaven for a good year, they only take\n the opportunity afforded them of running deeper into waste and\n wrong-doing. Is this the way to get better harvests? Considering\n the excessive growth and consumption of tobacco and opium, and the\n excessive manufacture and use of whisky, what could any honest,\n straightforward man say to the people, when they earnestly asked\n how they were to get good harvests, but \"_Repent, and cease this\n great waste_\"? And thus from no deliberate plan of mine, but from\n the plain leading of circumstances, it came to pass that I felt\n compelled to call upon the inhabitants of the district to lay aside\n the use of not only opium but also of whisky and tobacco, as one of\n the first steps toward worshipping the true God. Many friends have\n demurred to my making teetotalism an essential of Christianity, and\n many more have still more strongly demurred to my taking such a\n pronounced stand against the use of tobacco. The position of my\n friends is exactly the position I held myself before going into\n that region, but after going to that region and seeing just how\n things were, no other course seemed open to me, but to demand in\n all who wanted to do right the abandonment of the whole three; and\n I am convinced that almost any other missionary placed in the same\n circumstances would have taken the same stand.\n\n 'This position too commends itself to the native mind, and the\n native mind, quite apart from me, and before my going into the\n district, had already risen up in protest against these abuses,\n and, in some parts of the country there, the Tsai li ti sect boasts\n not a few members. The main practical doctrine of this sect is,\n _Yen chiu pu tung_--abstinence from tobacco, whisky, and opium. The\n very existence of this sect, and its flourishing condition there,\n is a plain indication of what serious-minded natives felt about the\n excessive use of these three things. Friends say that I am putting\n this self-righteousness in place of faith in Christ and the\n practice of higher duties. I do nothing of the sort. Beginning with\n the Chinaman where I find him, and answering the questions which he\n insists on asking first, I appeal to him to give up what he admits\n to be wrongdoing, sin (_tsao nieh_), as the first step in ceasing\n to do evil learning to do well, and coming into right relationship\n with God through Christ. Some friends are much alarmed lest this\n should lead to self-righteousness. There is no danger of that. The\n danger lies all the other way. To leave Christians drinking whisky\n and smoking tobacco in that region, would be to preach forgiveness\n of sin through Christ to men who were still going on in the\n practice of what their conscience told them was sin, and all must\n admit that this would never do. The condition of things in that\n region is such that I have no hesitation in saying that a man, to\n be honest in obeying God by refraining from what is wrong, must\n throw up his connexion with these three things, tobacco, whisky,\n opium.\n\n 'In _that region_. It will be noticed that I have carefully\n confined my remarks to the state of things in _that region_. _That\n region_ is peculiar in producing within its own bounds almost all\n that is necessary for life and luxury even. It is peculiar too in\n having just exactly as many inhabitants as it can support, no more,\n no less. When the population increases too much it overflows into\n Manchuria. When the population is less than the full complement, it\n is instantly replenished by fresh arrivals from the South. The\n production of tobacco, whisky, and opium, not only reduces a large\n proportion of the inhabitants from comfort to misery, but also\n reduces sensibly the number of inhabitants. But for these three\n things many more men could find a living within the bounds of the\n district Is not that little district an epitome of the world? Is\n what is true of that district not true of the whole world? Opium is\n a bad thing anywhere and everywhere. About that there need be no\n debate. Whisky and tobacco reduce the comforts and the number of\n the population there--is their effect not the same on the world in\n general? Is it not true that but for tobacco and whisky there would\n be food and clothes for a much larger population? And if so, do not\n tobacco and whisky take the bread out of men's mouths and the\n clothes off their backs? And if so, has not every smoker and\n drinker a part in this sin? Christians pray, \"_Give us this day our\n daily bread._\" Does not consistency require them to desist from\n defeating this prayer by smoking and drinking, and thus reducing\n the amount of the total production of the necessaries of life?\n\n 'Tobacco seems harmless. It is less harmful than opium and whisky\n by a long way. But its production sensibly reduces the supply of\n grain and cotton, and thus hinders the feeding of the hungry and\n the clothing the naked. Good earnest Christian men smoke and drink.\n Evangelists and pastors owned of God in the salvation of souls\n smoke and see no harm in it. The reason is they have never seen how\n the thing works, and don't know the harm it does. I feel sure that\n if they could see with their own eyes men, women, and children,\n hungry and in rags, when but for tobacco and whisky they might be\n well fed and well clothed, these same good brethren, whose example\n is quoted against my position, would be the first and most earnest\n to say, \"I will neither smoke tobacco nor drink whisky while the\n world stands.\"'\n\nAt a later date, not from any change in his views, but in deference to\nthe views of others, with whom he was always anxious to work in harmony,\nhe modified his plans so far as not to make the use of whisky and\ntobacco absolute bars to admission into the Christian Church.\n\nHis brethren also were opposed to the ascetic mode of life he adopted,\nand the extreme of hardship which he so often and so willingly\nencountered in his work. But he himself often said, and there are many\nreferences in his diary to the same effect, that the kind of life he was\nliving in the interior was quite as healthy, and quite as conducive to\nlongevity, as the ordinary and certainly much more comfortable life of a\nmissionary at Peking. While it may be true that the exposure and\nsufferings of twenty years had so weakened him as to leave him powerless\nwhen seized by the last illness, yet the labours of twenty such years\nspent in the service of God and the service of man are surely the seeds\nfrom which there shall yet spring a rich harvest to the glory of God and\nto the blessing of the dark and degraded Mongols and Chinese.\n\nBy the close of 1886 three main centres of work had been selected in the\nnew district--Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u], T\u00b7 Ss[)u] Kou, and Ch'ao Yang--all three\nbeing towns of some importance. Mr. Gilmour used to spend a month or so\nin each town, visiting also the neighbourhood, especially those places\nwhere fairs were held, and where consequently the people came together\nin large numbers. He had a tent which he used to put up in a main\nthoroughfare, and there he stood from early morn until night healing the\nsick, selling Christian books, talking with inquirers, preaching at\nevery opportunity the full and free Gospel of salvation. His constant\nand consistent life of Christlike self-denial in the effort to bless\nthem told even more upon the beholders than all these other things\ncombined. His correspondence is full of sharp and clear pictures of his\ndaily toil, and of his spiritual experiences.\n\n '_Ch'ao Yang, May 14, 1886._--The people are very poor here. Last\n year the crops were not good. When the leaves come out on the\n trees, the poor people break off branches and eat the seeds of the\n elm-trees. I saw one woman up a high tree, taking down the seeds.\n She took off half the door, laid it up against the tree, went on\n the cross-bars like a ladder, and so got up. She threw down the\n little branches and twigs, and her three children below gathered\n them up. The elm seeds are just ripe now. They are the size of\n large fish-scales; when the wind blows they come down like snow.\n\n 'I met three lamas going to a far-off place to worship. Every two\n or three steps they lay down flat on the ground, then got up other\n two or three steps, then prostrated themselves again. They did not\n know about Jesus saving people, and thought they would save\n themselves in that way. Poor people! yet they don't like to hear\n about Jesus saving people. They want the credit of thus saving\n themselves.\n\n '_September 3._--At Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u] we had seven days and seven\n nights' rain. It was a great flood. The river rose and washed away\n about a hundred acres of land and forty or fifty houses. For two\n days the river floated down house-roof timbers, beams, &c. One poor\n man pulled down his house to save his timbers, and the house fell\n on him and killed him. It was pitiful to see the river washing away\n good land, two square yards falling into the roaring flood at a\n time. The Chinamen did nothing: only stood and looked at it. Lots\n of walls and many houses fell down. One house in the court next our\n own fell down one morning after the rain was all over. The people\n had just time to jump out at the window. No one was hurt. Our room\n did not leak much, but the outside of the wall towards the street\n fell down. The inside of the wall still stood, so our room was\n whole. Chinese walls are all built in two skins. The one may fall\n and the other stand.\n\n '_October 25._--God has given the hunger and thirst for souls: will\n He leave me unsatisfied? No, verily. I am reading at night, before\n going to bed, the Psalms in a small-print copy of the Revised\n Bible, holding it at arm's length almost, close up to a Chinese\n candle, to suit my eyes; for I cannot see small print well now, and\n I find much strength and courage in the old warrior's words.\n Verily, the Psalms are inspired. No doubt about that. None that\n wait on Him will be put to shame. He is here with me.\n\n '_November 17._--We start about the fifth watch (6 A.M.), get to\n the fair early, spend the day on the street; it is late before we\n get quiet, and I fear it is now well on towards the third watch. I\n am in first-class health, though my feet and socks are in a\n decidedly bad way. The country is not at all safe, but we have as\n yet been preserved. Some days ago, two men who slept on the same\n kang with us, and started a little earlier than we did, were\n robbed. We overtook the travellers arranging themselves after the\n interview. I was annoyed at not getting away as soon as they left.\n God so arranged it, you see.\n\n 'I have got a step nearer to God lately. It is this: I do not now\n strive to get near Him; I simply ask Christ to _take me nearer\n Him_. Why shouldn't I? Does not Christ save men from distance from\n God and bring us near? _Peace, Blessing, and Power_, by Haslam,\n sent me by an old college mate in Scotland, was the means used.\n This chum tried my soul much when I was at home last. I think I was\n of use to him, and now he has been of much use to me. Let us sow\n beside all waters.\n\n 'My attitude now here is that of Psalm cxxiii. 2-4. I feel that God\n can _perform_ for, by, or rather use me as His instrument in\n performing, if He has a mind to; so I am looking for His hand,\n gazing about among the people that come to my stand to see the ones\n God has sent. I feel as helpless as a Chinese farmer in a drought;\n but when God opens the heavens, down it will come. Amen.'\n\nMr. Gilmour returned to Peking on December 13, having been away nearly\neight months. The tabulated results of this missionary campaign were:\n\n Patients seen (about) 5,717\n Hearers preached to 23,755\n Books sold 3,067\n Tracts distributed 4,500\n Miles travelled 1,860\n Money spent 120.92 taels = (about) 30_l._ to 40_l._\n\nHe adds, 'And out of all this there are only two men who have openly\nconfessed Christ. In one sense it is a small result; in another sense\nthere is much to be grateful for. I have to part with my assistant, and\nam uncertain about whom to take in his place. My travelling arrangements\nhave broken down, and I am perplexed in more ways than I have patience\nto write about; but\n\n Where He may lead I'll follow,\n In Him my trust repose,\n And every hour in perfect peace\n I'll sing, \"He knows, He knows.\"\n\nAfter a visit to Tientsin and a brief rest in Peking, largely occupied\nwith preparations for his next sojourn in Mongolia, he started on\nJanuary 25, 1887. At Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u] he secured a kind of home, so as\nnot to be exposed to all the discomforts and drawbacks of inn life,\nhoping also that a fixed centre might forward the preaching of the\nGospel. Two rooms were taken for a year. They were situated at the inner\nend of a little trading court, around which were a tin-shop, a\nrope-spinner's room, and a stable. In one corner there was a pigsty.\n'When first I saw it I almost refused to occupy it; but really there is\nno help for it, and finally we took it for a year.' It is always\ndifficult to secure premises in a Chinese town, and exceptionally so\nunder the limitation of money and of suspicion and dislike to which\nChristian missionaries are always exposed. 'It is only a lodging for\nme,' Mr. Gilmour continues, 'convenient for seeing converts or\ninquirers. The court is much too small, and the place not sanitary. But\ndon't be in the least uneasy. My health is quite as safe there as in the\nbest premises in Peking. I intend to occupy them for a month at the\nbeginning of the Chinese year, and ten or fifteen days in the fourth,\nseventh, and tenth months. I hope also to come to some arrangement for a\nlodging in Ch'ao Yang. In T\u00b7 Ss[)u] Kou I am simply in an inn, and pay\nat the usual rate for the nights I am there.'\n\nA letter to his boys, dated March 24, 1887, depicts the kind of scene he\nso often witnessed, and the routine of work which would have proved so\nirksome but for the love and peace with which the Saviour filled his\nsoul.\n\n 'Mai Li Ying Tz[)u] is a very wicked place. There were no less than\n fourteen large tents set up for gambling, and, in addition, some\n thirty or forty mat-tents for gambling. I was there three days. The\n first day people were shy. The second day they were not much\n afraid. The third day I had quite a lot of patients. We sold a good\n few books, preached a good deal, and doctored a number of patients.\n From there we went to Bo-or-Chih, starting in the dark and\n travelling seventeen English miles before breakfast. After we had\n travelled ten miles we came to a little town just as people were\n opening their doors. A seller of _chieh jao_, that sticky stuff,\n had just set out his wheelbarrow with his pudding. We each bought a\n great piece, wrapped it in a _chien ping_ (a thin scone), and\n travelled on, eating it. That was our breakfast. Arrived at\n Bo-or-Chih, we set up our table at once, and, after preaching for a\n short time, patients came round us in crowds, and kept us busy till\n late in the afternoon.\n\n 'The inn in which I am staying now is owned by two men, brothers,\n both of whom are opium smokers. The inn has a good trade, but it is\n all no use: it all goes to opium, and no good comes of it. There\n are two barbers connected with the place, and they both drink and\n gamble, so that they are in rags and poverty, though they have a\n fairly good business. It is so painful to see men degraded thus\n when, but for drink and gambling, they might be well off.\n\n '_April 28, 1887._--For the last week I have been very busy at a\n great temple gathering, which lasted six days. Such crowds of\n people came, though it was only a country district. It was the\n great religious event of the year for the neighbourhood, and how do\n you think they do? They hire a theatrical company to come and act\n six days in a great mat stage, put up for the occasion in front of\n the temple. Theatrical exhibitions are the religion of China. These\n shows are supposed to be in honour of the idols in the temple. The\n people think the gods will thus be pleased, and give them good\n seasons, health, etc.\n\n 'What a crowd of women came to worship at the temple on the great\n day of the festival! Till noon that day women only were allowed to\n enter: no men. How the women were dressed--in all the colours of\n the rainbow, red trousers being especially prominent! How they\n moved along on their little feet! Walk you along on your heels--as\n I have seen you do--and that is just how they move.\n\n 'No end of gamblers came too. There were twenty-six, or so, large\n tents put up to gamble in, and about as many straw-mat booths, and\n they all had plenty of trade. Eh, man, it is sad to see the utter\n worldliness of these Chinese. They soon found me out. I had my tent\n put up in a quiet place away from the bustle.[8] In front is the\n great flying sign, \"The Jesus Religion Gospel Hall.\" At the one\n end, \"God the Heavenly Father;\" at the other, \"Jesus the Saviour.\"\n They found me out, not because they wanted to hear me preach, but\n to get medicine. Oh, the numbers of suffering people I saw and\n attended to! I used to go out early in the morning, and be there\n all day, most of the time so busy that there was no time to eat. To\n get food I had to steal away because everyone would want me just to\n attend to him or her before I went. When I had attended to that one\n there was another, and so on. I was able to cure a number of them,\n and got preaching a good deal too. I sold a number of books. It was\n the first time that a missionary had ever been there, and it was\n difficult to make them understand.'\n\n[8] See the illustration on p. 245.\n\nIt is, as a rule, by direct dealing with individuals that the best\nresults of Christian work in China are obtained, and to this Mr. Gilmour\nwas always ready to make everything give way. In season and out of\nseason, at any hour of the day or night, he was at the service of\ninquirers. The sight of a seeking face could banish his most exhausting\nfeeling of fatigue, and nothing so swiftly dispelled the depression,\nfrom which he so often and so severely suffered, as the sight of a\nheathen coming to be more perfectly instructed about 'the doctrine.'\nHere are one or two such scenes:--\n\n 'In the eighth month we had great pleasure in finding Mr. Sun much\n advanced in knowledge, and confessing his Christianity with great\n boldness. Before we left he was baptized, and one or two others\n were coming forward as inquirers--notably one man, who is a member\n of a sect, was making earnest inquiries. These men seem to be\n following after righteousness in their own half-instructed fashion.\n These sects are strong in numbers in some parts of the district,\n and, if God should give us some of these men as converts, we might\n hope for rapid progress among their companions. The last that I\n heard of this man, he was coming to Mr. Sun, asking many questions.\n He lodged with us one night, and I invited him to breakfast with me\n in the morning. He was declining on the plea that he was a\n vegetarian. It was with much satisfaction that I was able to say in\n reply, \"So am I.\"\n\n 'The Tsai li ti are strong in Ch'ao Yang. I have been praying and\n working to gain them for a year and more. One evening a deputation\n of two men called upon me in my inn, and said they had come\n representing many who wanted to know about Christianity. They, the\n Tsai li ti, had been watching me ever since I had come to Ch'ao\n Yang. They had listened much and often to our preaching, and now\n they had come to make formal inquiries. I gave them such\n information as I thought they needed, and we got on well enough\n till they asked me to refute a slander. The slander was to the\n effect that in a chapel in Peking, the preacher would, when he\n finished preaching, get down off the platform and have a smoke! I\n had to admit that this was no slander, but a true statement. I had\n a good deal to say in explanation of it; but, alas! the men came no\n more.'\n\nTo form any just estimate of Mr. Gilmour's work in Eastern Mongolia, it\nis needful constantly to bear in mind that it was practically a new\ndeparture. So far as we know, he is the only missionary in China\nconnected with the London Missionary Society who adopted _in toto_ not\nonly the native dress, but practically the native food, and, so far as a\nChristian man could, native habits of life. His average expense for food\nduring his residence in his district was _threepence a day_. This rate\nof expenditure was, of course, possible only because he adopted\nvegetarianism. His practice acted and reacted upon his thought, and he\ncame at this time to hold the view, for and against which a great deal\nmay be said, that it was a mistake for Chinese missionaries to live as\nforeigners--that is, to wear foreign dress, arrange their houses and\nfurniture as nearly as possible in European style, and eat European\nfood. Both on its economical side and also as impressing the mind and\nheart of the Chinese, he believed that his was the more excellent way.\n\nMost of his co-workers at Peking and Tientsin did not agree with him. As\nagreement would have involved, perhaps, following his example, under\nconditions that differed widely from those of Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u] and Ch'ao\nYang, this difference of opinion was only what was to be expected. It is\nreferred to here only as a well-known fact, and no story of Mr.\nGilmour's life could be trustworthy which did not represent the decided\nway in which, when he felt that loyalty to his work and loyalty to his\nMaster constrained him, he could and did act in direct opposition to the\nwishes and views of brethren whom he fervently loved.\n\nIt became needful from time to time for him to justify his actions to\nthe home authorities. Not that this was in any way needful from any\ndoubt or lack of support on their part. But with regard to methods upon\nwhich there was marked divergence of view in the missionary committees\nabroad it was needful that a man like Gilmour should put his motives and\nreasons clearly before the governing powers. It is doing him bare\njustice to say that from this task he never shrank. The following\nextracts are from letters to the home officials of the London Missionary\nSociety and they enable us to appreciate accurately the standpoint of\nthe man whose thought they express. Writing in the light of the\nsuggestion that perhaps he was putting a more severe strain upon his\nhealth than the efficient discharge of his difficult duty demanded, he\nsays:--\n\n 'I feel called to go through all this sort of thing, and feel\n perfectly secure in God's hands. It is no choosing of mine, but\n His; and, following His lead, I have as much right to expect\n special provision to be made for me as the Israelites of old had in\n the matters of the Red Sea, the manna and water in the desert, the\n crossing Jordan, and the fall of Jericho.\n\n 'One thing I am sure of. The thousands here need salvation; God is\n most anxious to give it to them: where, then, is the hindrance? In\n them? I hardly think so. In God? No. In me, then! The thing I am\n praying away at now is that He would remove that hindrance by\n whatever process necessary. I shall not be astonished if He puts me\n through some fires or severe operations, nor shall I be sorry if\n they only end by leaving me a channel through which His saving\n grace can flow unhindered to these needy people. I dare not tell\n you how much I pray for.\n\n 'It is the foreign element in our lives that runs away with the\n money. The foreign houses, foreign clothes, foreign food, are\n ruinous. In selecting missionaries, physique able to stand native\n houses, clothes, and food, should be as much a _sine qu\u201a non_ as\n health to bear the native climate. Native clothes are, I believe,\n more safe for health than foreign clothes; they are more suited to\n the climate, more comfortable than foreign clothes, and so dressed,\n a Chinese house is quite comfortable. In past days I have suffered\n extreme discomfort by attempting to live in foreign dress in native\n houses.'\n\nAnd yet James Gilmour had nothing of the fanatic or bigot about him. At\nthe period of his life with which we are now dealing, his severest trial\nwas the loneliness due to his having no colleague. Whenever his brethren\nventured to address remonstrances to him, they were due largely to the\nconviction that entire isolation, such as he had to endure throughout\nhis Mongolian career, must tell adversely upon his temperament. But in\njudging the character of the man it only heightens our love and respect\nfor him that he did not allow the utter and successive failures of all\nefforts to secure him a colleague to hinder the work. No man more\nreadily and more constantly acted upon the principle of doing the next\nbest thing. His idea of satisfactory conditions for the work was never\nreached; but this never led him for one day to relax his own efforts or\nto loosen the strong hand of his self-discipline.\n\nTo any reader who has carefully followed the previous pages it must have\nbecome abundantly evident that Mr Gilmour believed in God's present and\nimmediate influence in the passing events of daily life, and that the\nright attitude of life is one of absolute dependence upon, and\nsubmission to, the will of God. His diaries abound with proofs of this.\nHe is delayed one morning in starting from his inn, and is annoyed. An\nhour or so later he overtakes the travellers who started earlier, and\nfinds them just recovering from the assault of a band of robbers. The\ndelay was God's providential care protecting him from robbery. And yet\nno man was ever less under the spell of religious fatalism. All that\nactive effort and promptitude of mind and body could effect in the\nservice of life he freely and constantly expended in his work. And\nindeed there lies before us a long letter written at T\u00b7 Ss[)u] Kou on\nMarch 15, 1888, asking for an official proclamation from the Chinese\nauthorities at Peking affirming 'that Christian worship is an allowed\nthing, and that native Christians are not required to contribute, or are\nexempted from contributing, to idol and heathen ceremonies, such as\ntheatricals, or the building and repair of temples.' The proper official\ndocument was applied for at Peking, and in due time obtained.\n\nOn March 24, 1888, James Gilmour was rejoiced by the seeming fulfilment\nof his heart's most eager desire--the arrival at T\u00b7 Ss[)u] Kou of a\nfully qualified medical colleague, Dr. Roberts. We have seen how\nrepeated had been his entreaties, how earnest his yearnings after this\nessential factor in the success of his mission. For a month he enjoyed\nto the full the uplifting of congenial fellowship and of skilled help.\nThen came a blow, harder almost to endure than the previous solitude.\n\n 'Two days ago,' he writes under date of April 21, 1888, 'a man\n pushed himself in among the crowd round my table as I was\n dispensing medicines in the market-place here, and announced\n himself as a courier from Tientsin. When asked what his news was,\n he was silent, so I led him away towards my inn. Oh the way I again\n asked what his news was. He groaned. I began to get alarmed, and\n noticed that he carried with him a sword, covered merely with a\n cloth scabbard. This looked warlike, and I wondered if there could\n have been another massacre at Tientsin. Coming to a quiet place in\n the street I _demanded_ his news, when he replied, \"_Dr. Mackenzie\n is dead, after a week's illness._\" At the inn we got out our\n letters from the bundle, and found the news true. In a little Dr.\n Roberts looked up from a letter he was reading and said he was\n appointed to the vacancy. _Then_ the full extent of my loss flashed\n upon me. Mackenzie dead--Roberts to go to Tientsin! One of my\n closest friends dead--my colleague removed!\n\n 'Forty-eight hours have elapsed, and I am just coming right again.\n I have been like a ship suddenly struck in mid-ocean by a mountain\n sea breaking over it. You know in that case a ship staggers a bit,\n and takes some time to shake clear and right herself.\n\n 'As to Mackenzie. His friendship I very keenly appreciated. The\n week of prayer in January 1887 we spent together in Peking. The\n week of prayer in January 1888 we spent together in Tientsin. These\n were seasons of great enjoyment. On parting we spoke of having a\n week together again in April 1889. That is not to be. The full\n extent of the loss will take some time to realise.\n\n 'The prospect of Dr. Roberts settling permanently here in the\n autumn gave light and brightness to the outlook. My faith is not\n gone, but it would be untrue to say that I am not walking in the\n dark. I shall do my best to hold on here single-handed; but I\n earnestly hope that I am not to be alone much longer. Something\n must be done. There is a limit to all human endurance.\n\n 'Amid many storms we are holding on our way, and making progress\n among the Chinese. Of the Mongols I have nothing cheering to\n report. They come around and daily hear the Gospel; but, as yet at\n least, there it ends. I look into their faces to see whom the Lord\n is going to call, but have not seen him yet apparently. Meantime, I\n am getting deeper and deeper into Chinese work and connections, and\n sometimes the thought crosses my mind that my knowledge of\n Mongolian is not employed to its best advantage here. On the other\n hand, I see more Mongols here than I could see anywhere on the\n Plain.'\n\nGod's ways of dealing with His work and the workers are often very dim\nand obscure to finite understanding. Humanly speaking, no man in China\ncould less easily be spared than Dr. Mackenzie; no man in all that vast\nempire more needed the joy of fellowship than he to whom it had just\nbeen granted. But the indomitable spirit shines clearly through the\nwords of Gilmour: 'It would be untrue to say that I am not walking in\nthe dark. I shall do my best to hold on here single-handed.' Seeing\nGod's hand, as he did, in these sorrowful events, and believing that Dr.\nRoberts also was following the path of God's will, he turned again to\nhis lonely tasks. But it was at a heavy cost. His health was giving way\nfaster than he realised. The views of his brethren at Peking, that he\nwould break down under the strain of the isolation, were to some extent\njustified. The home authorities did what they could, but nearly a year\nelapsed before Dr. Smith, who was appointed to succeed Dr. Roberts,\nreached Mongolia, and when he did so his first duty he felt was to order\nMr. Gilmour to visit England for rest and change. But meanwhile he went\nbravely on. Like his Master, 'he endured the contradiction of sinners\nagainst himself,' and when 'he was reviled, he reviled not again.'\n\n 'We left Ch'ao Yang,' he writes under date of September 3, 1888,\n 'August 10, attended markets, got much rained in, and reached Ta\n Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u] August 20. There I found that one of the Christians\n had possessed himself of my bank book and drawn about fifteen taels\n of my money which I had banked at the grocer's. The delinquent\n turned up next day, walked in, and hung up his whip as if nothing\n had happened. At the moment I was dining, and he sat down beside\n me. I asked him quietly why he had treated me so. He said I might\n be easy in mind; he had money and cattle he would pay me. \"Go,\n then, and bring me the money; till you do so, don't come to me\n again.\" Off he went. Days passed and nothing was done to repair the\n mischief. Meantime, the scandal was the talk of the small town, and\n the scornful things said were so keen that Liu, my assistant, got\n quite wild. He was indignant that I did not go to law with the man,\n who all the while was swelling about on a donkey bought with the\n money he stole from me, and using the most defiant and abusive\n language towards me (not to my face, happily). The roughs of the\n place began to be insolent, and a drunken man came and made a scene\n in our quarters. Liu redoubled his attack on me, and even\n threatened to go home to Shantung if I would do nothing but pray--a\n course of action on my part which irritated him much. Li San, the\n head Christian there, joined him in saying I ought to make a show\n of power. I asked the two to read at their leisure Matt. v. 6, 7.\n Liu warned me that I was in personal danger. The man was\n panic-struck and highly nervous. I arranged an expedition to a\n place some 90 li away, but got rained in and could not go. Finally,\n the offender sent an embassy desiring peace, and, the day before we\n left, a respectable deputation of mutual friends, Christian and\n heathen, found its way one by one to my room, coming thus not to\n attract attention, and last of all came the thief. According to\n pre-arrangement I asked him, as he entered, what he had come for.\n He walked up to the wall, knelt down, and confessed his sin in\n prayer to God. The end of the matter is, he gives me one donkey and\n the promise of another, is suspended as to membership for twelve\n months, and is forbidden the chapel for three months.\n\n 'I am not bright about Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u], as you may suppose. Worse\n than the stealing case is that of the head man, Li San, who says\n that he was promised employment before he became a Christian! The\n ten days we passed there we were the song of the drunkard and the\n jest of the abjects; but the peace of God _passes all\n understanding_, and that kept my heart and mind. We put a calm\n front on; put out our stand daily, and carried ourselves as if\n nothing had happened.\n\n 'The great thought in my mind these days, and the great object of\n my life, is to be like Christ. As He was in the world, so are we to\n be. He was in the world to manifest God; we are in the world to\n manifest Christ. Is that not so? Iniquities, I must confess,\n prevail against me; but as contamination of sin flows to us from\n Adam, does not regenerating power flow into us from Christ? Is it\n not so?'\n\nMeanwhile work was going steadily forward and some impression was being\nmade. He made a flying visit to Tientsin and Peking in the autumn, but\nwas soon back at his post. In his report of work for the year he is able\nto point to progress.\n\n '1888 has been a tumultuous year. In December, at Ch'ao Yang, there\n was a sudden irruption of men and boys to learn the doctrine.\n Evening after evening we had from twenty to fifty people in our\n rooms to evening worship. We hardly knew how to account for it, but\n did all we could to teach as many as we could. The cold weather\n finally did much to stop the overcrowding, but there was good\n interest kept up among many till the end of the year.\n\n 'The baptisms for the year were, at Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u], two; T\u00b7 Ss[)u]\n Kou, two; Ch'ao Yang, eight; total, twelve adults, all Chinese.\n\n 'One man has been put out, so that the numbers stand as follows: Ta\n Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u], four; T\u00b7 Ss[)u] Kou, three; Ch'ao Yang, nine; total,\n sixteen, all Chinese.\n\n 'Three adults, Chinese, were baptized ten days ago, and I hope to\n baptize two children next Sunday; but we have almost no promising\n adherents here at present. There are three entire families\n Christian, with Christian emblems on their door-posts; another\n family is Christian, but cannot fly the colours on the door-posts\n because the grandfather who has half the building is a heathen.\n\n 'In still another family, where only the husband is Christian, they\n have the Christian colours, but the family is heathen.\n\n 'My heart is set on reinforcements. Can they not be had? I had\n hoped Dr. Smith would have spent the winter with me, but he did\n not. All the grace needed has been given me abundantly, but I don't\n think there should be any more solitary work. I don't think it\n pays in any sense.\n\n 'In addition, it is almost time I had a change. My eyes are bad.\n Doctors hesitate over my heart, say it is weak, and that its\n condition would affect seriously an application for life assurance.\n This winter I have gone in for a cough, which is not a good thing\n at all, and it would be well for the continuity of the work that\n there should be a young man on the field.\n\n 'Don't be alarmed, though, and don't alarm my friends. The above is\n for your own private information and guidance. I still regard\n myself as in first-rate health.\n\n 'I am not satisfied that we seem drifting away from the Mongols. At\n present, though lots of Mongols are around, our work is all but\n entirely Chinese. I am still of opinion that our best way to reach\n them is from a Chinese basis. This may involve a matter of years\n ahead, and therefore it is that I am eager to see the future of the\n work provided for by being joined by a younger man or men.\n\n 'Meantime I am trying to follow very fully and very faithfully the\n leadings and indications of God. I have had times of sore spiritual\n conflict and times of much spiritual rest, and my prayer is that\n you and the Board may in all your arrangements and plans for\n Mongolia be fully guided by Him. Oh that His full blessing would\n descend richly on this district!'\n\nDr. Smith reached Mongolia in March 1889, and for the first time met his\ncolleague. He has placed on record for use in this biography his account\nof that first meeting. On reaching Ch'ao Yang, Dr. Smith found that Mr.\nGilmour was not there. 'I followed the innkeeper,' he writes, 'to see\nthe spot where my devoted colleague had spent so many lonely hours. We\ncame to a little outhouse, with a kind of little court in front of it,\nnot many yards wide. The outer door was locked by means of a padlock;\nbut the innkeeper soon found an entrance by simply lifting the door off\nits wooden hinges, and then we were in the anteroom or rather kitchen.\nIn it was a built-in cooking-pan, an earthenware bowl, and a wooden\nstick resembling a Scotch porridge-stick; and some brushwood which had\nbeen brought in to be in readiness when he next arrived at that inn. One\nof the two rooms, which lay on each side of this ante-room, was locked,\nand we could not open it, but through the chinks of the door I could see\nabundant traces of Gilmour. It was specially refreshing to see some\ngenuine English on one of the boxes; it was \"Ferris, Bourne, & Co.,\nBristol,\" the people from whom he used to order his drugs. My servant\nand I decided to take up our quarters in the next room, which was\nevidently the servant's room. We soon managed to make ourselves very\ncomfortable, and there was an unspeakable relief in at last being in a\nplace which belonged to the London Mission, rented of course. We had to\nspend the Sunday there. Mr. Sun, the box-maker, soon came round, and\nseemed genuinely glad to see me, and offered to make all arrangements\nfor the further stage of our journey. We then discharged our carts, and\nI sent with them my letters for home.\n\n'After spending the Sunday in company with the Christians there, we set\nout on the Monday morning with a local carter for Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u], a\ndistance of about twenty-three miles. We crossed a hilly and sparsely\npopulated district, reminding me of some of the bleaker scenery in\nScotland. On reaching the town we at once drove to the new private\nmission premises. It was a little house surrounded by a straw fence.\nQuite a crowd of rough-looking people followed us in. One of the doors\nhad been stolen, and altogether it looked so unprotected that I decided\nto take up my quarters in a little Mongol inn, where Mr. Gilmour\nformerly lived. Next day I expected to meet Gilmour, and the two\nChristians there were fully expecting him. In the evening we had quite a\nlevee; Li San and the other Christian, whom Gilmour used to call \"Long\nLegs,\" sat drinking tea in my room for some time, and were very\nfriendly; they were evidently trying to ingratiate themselves with me; I\ndid not then know how disgracefully they had behaved to Gilmour, nor did\nI know the anxious business which was bringing Gilmour there at that\ntime.\n\n'Next day or the following, I forget exactly which, I was sitting in my\nroom, when a young man arrived, my servant being out at the time. I\ncould not make him out at first, not being able to understand what he\nsaid; but he had such an evident air about him that he had some kind of\nbusiness with me that it at last dawned upon me that he must be Mr.\nGilmour's servant, and this was at once confirmed on the arrival of Lin\nSeng, my servant. He had been sent on ahead to announce Gilmour's\narrival. It had been blowing a dust-storm all day, and on that account I\nhardly expected Gilmour, but now there was no doubt.\n\n'About four o'clock that afternoon Gilmour arrived, and I shall never\nforget that first meeting. I had pictured quite a different-looking man\nto myself. I saw a thin man of medium height, with a clean shaven face,\ngot up in Chinese dress, much the same as the respectable shop-keepers\nin that part of the country wear. On his head was a cap lined with cat's\nfur. I was struck by the kindly but determined look on his face. He\ngreeted me most cordially, and I remember he said, \"I am glad to see\nyou.\" He looked worn out and ill. I at once gave him his letters.\n\n'After arranging his things and seeing his men comfortably settled and\ngetting over his first interview with the Christians there, he came up\nto my room in order to spend the night with me. We sat to all hours of\nthe morning, chatting about things at home, and about his boys, whom I\nhad seen before leaving Scotland.\n\n'For the next day he arranged the dreaded interview with Li San down at\nthe mission premises. Gilmour warned me that it would be a long-winded\naffair, and wished me not to expect his return for a good number of\nhours. After waiting a long time I went down to see how the interview\nwas progressing. Li San and Gilmour were sitting on the kang, in tailor\nfashion on each side of a low table, and Li San was singing hymns; but\nthere was a strange look upon his face, as if he did not altogether feel\nlike singing. Gilmour said to me in English that they had not come to\nbusiness yet, and Gilmour was determined that Li San was to say the\nfirst word, so Gilmour invited him to sing hymn after hymn, and then I\nleft. The whole idea seemed to be to get money out of Gilmour, and when\nhe found that impossible he threatened to come down to Tientsin to\naccuse Gilmour to his missionary colleagues, of having broken his\npromise to give him employment. Gilmour had no recollection of having\ndone so; he said to me that possibly one of his previous assistants may\nhave on his own responsibility led Li San to form that idea.\n\n'Long Legs was also dogging Gilmour for money, and altogether they\nworried him; but he settled up everything. The premises were resold, and\nas Gilmour put it, \"it was the funeral of that little church.\" They were\nthreatening to prevent our leaving the town, as there seemed some doubt\nin Gilmour's mind as to whether we would be able to get a cart; these\nfears were disappointed; Li San got a cart for us.'\n\nBefore Dr. Smith had passed many days in the society of Mr. Gilmour it\nbecame clear to the practised eye of the medical man that his colleague\nhad been overstraining his health and strength. Notwithstanding his\nbuoyancy and occasional high spirits all through his long years of work,\nJames Gilmour had been subject to spells of severe depression. There are\na very large number of brief entries in his diary to that effect. 'Felt\nblue to-day' is a frequent phrase, followed soon in the great majority\nof instances by words indicating a speedy recovery. Special events, that\nfrom time to time had a direct adverse influence upon his work,\ndeveloped this state of mind rapidly and profoundly. The inevitable\nrecall of Dr. Roberts, already described, is a case in point, and the\ndiary at that season contains entries like these:\n\n '_April 26, 1888._--These last days have been full of blessing and\n peace in my own soul. I have been able to leave things at Ta Ch\u00cdng\n Tz[)u];, and my colleagues all in God's hands.'\n\n '_May 7._--Downcast day. No one to prayer.'\n\n '_May 9._--In terrible darkness and tears for two days. Light broke\n over me at my stand to-day in the thought that Jesus was tempted\n forty days of the devil after His baptism, and that He felt\n forsaken on the cross.'\n\n '_May 27, Sunday._--Service, Romans xii. Present, four Christians.\n Great depression.'\n\nThe most constant force acting in the direction of mental depression was\nwhat appeared to him like the want of immediate success. He longed with\nan eager and almost painful intensity for signs that Gospel light had\nbroken in upon the mental darkness of the men with whom he was in daily\ncontact. He yearned for evidence that the love of Christ was winning the\nlove of Chinese and Mongol hearts, as a mother yearns over her children.\nHope deferred as to his medical colleague, ever recurring difficulties\ndefeating all his efforts to secure suitable premises for his work,\nfailure on the part of natives whom he had begun to trust, and all these\nthings over and above the ceaseless strain of his daily toil, are more\nthan sufficient to account for the state in which Dr. Smith found him.\n\nTo those who knew him best, and who could appraise at their true value\nthe toils and trials and disappointments of his daily lot, the wonder\nwas not that he broke down; it was rather that physical collapse had not\novertaken him sooner. There are many kinds of heroism, but it may be\ndoubted whether any touches a higher level than that exhibited by this\npatient sower of the seed of life on the sterile field of Mongolia,\nbravely continuing to do so until imperatively urged to cease for a\nseason, not by his consciousness of failing power, but by the alarm and\ninfluence of his medical co-worker.\n\nWhen the decision was once taken, it was acted upon promptly. March 26,\n1889, was the day, and Peking the place. On April 4 he left Peking, and\non the 20th he sailed from Shanghai. He arrived in London on May 25.\n\nThis visit to England in 1889 was a great refreshment bodily, mental,\nand spiritual, to the overwrought labourer. The voyage itself, enforcing\nrest from all ordinary avocations, by removing Mr. Gilmour from the\ndepressing surroundings amid which he had spent so much of the last\nthree years, began the restorative process. He was beginning to feel in\nhimself great benefit from the change even by the time he reached\nLondon. But the six years which had passed since he last walked the\nLondon streets had left their mark upon him. He had drawn to the utmost\nupon his physical and spiritual strength in the service of those for\nwhose conversion he lived and toiled. He had been through the deep\nwaters of personal affliction when his wife passed into the sinless\nlife. The many toils and hardships of the passing years had drawn deep\nfurrows upon the cheery face, and the eyes showed evidence of the mental\nand spiritual strain.\n\nSo sudden was the resolution to return, and so prompt his action upon\nit, that few knew even of the probability until he was actually here. On\nMay 27, 1889, the writer was sitting in his room, overlooking the\npleasant garden that brightens up the north-eastern corner of St Paul's\nChurchyard, in conversation with a gentleman, when a knock came at the\ndoor and a head appeared. Not seeing it very clearly, and at the same\ntime asking for a minute's delay while the business in hand was\ncompleted, the head disappeared. As soon as the first visitor departed a\nman entered and stood near the door. I looked at him with the\nconviction that I knew him, and yet could not recall the true mental\nassociation, when the old smile broke over his face, and he burst into a\nlaugh, saying, 'Why, man, you don't know me' 'Yes, I do,' I replied,\n'you're Gilmour; but I thought that at this moment you were in\nMongolia.' But when I was able to scrutinise him closely I was shocked\nto see how very evident were the signs of stress and strain. It was not\nwholly inexcusable, even in an old friend, to fail to instantly\nrecognise in the worn and apparently broken man, thought to be hard at\nwork many thousands of miles away, the strong and cheery Gilmour of\n1883.\n\nCarrying him off home, we talked far into the night, not because his\nhost thought it a good thing for the invalid, but because he was so full\nof his work and its difficulties and its pressing needs, and what he\nhoped to do on behalf of Mongolia by his visit home, that there seemed\nno possible alternative but to let him talk himself weary. And how\nsplendidly he talked! He pictured his life at a Mongol inn. He ranged\nover the whole opium and whisky and tobacco controversy. He gave, with\nall the dramatic effect of which he was so great a master, the story of\nhow he forced home upon the Chinese and Mongols, until even _they_\nadmitted the force of the reasoning, how natural it was that famine\nshould visit them when they gave up their land to opium, and their grain\nto the manufacture of whisky. He gave in rapid dialogue his own\nquestions, the native rejoinders, and he so vividly pictured the scene\nthat his hearer could fancy himself standing under the tent, surrounded\nby Chinese and Mongols, and assenting, as they did, to the earnest and\nfar-reaching conclusions of the speaker.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nPERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS AS ILLUSTRATED BY LETTERS TO RELATIVES AND\nFRIENDS\n\n\nThis break in active work affords a convenient occasion for exhibiting\nin a still stronger light, by means of selections from his\ncorrespondence, some important sides of James Gilmour's character. He\nwas a good correspondent and wrote freely to his relatives and friends.\nWe have quoted largely hitherto from his official reports and from\nletters that refer to the condition and progress of his life-work. But\nit is in the letters addressed to the circle of relatives and most\nintimate friends that he reveals more fully the deeper side of his life,\nand the strong and tender affection of his nature.\n\nHe corresponded regularly with his parents until the earthly tie was\nbroken by the death of his mother in 1884 and of his father in 1888. His\nletters to the latter were very beautiful, especially those designed to\nstrengthen his faith in the closing years when he had passed the\neightieth milestone. The tone of the correspondence may be judged from\nthe following examples:--\n\n\n 'Peking: Friday, January 23, 1885.\n\n 'My dear Father,--So this must in future be the heading of my\n letters--no longer my dear parents. Mother has gone. Yours of\n November 21 reached me this afternoon, or evening rather. As I\n came home from the chapel I found a beggar waiting at the gate. I\n thought he was going to beg, but he did not. Inside I found the\n gate-keeper waiting at our house door for a reply note, to say that\n the letter had been delivered. I went to my study, and was praying\n for a blessing on the chapel preaching when Emily came. I let her\n in. She had your letter in her hand. It had come by Russia, and the\n Russian post sometimes sends over our mail by a Peking beggar,\n paying him of course.\n\n 'I have not had time to think yet. On my heels came in men for the\n prayer-meeting we hold in our house on Friday evening, and till now\n I have been almost continuously engaged. It is now 10.20 P.M. It so\n happens that this week I am much behind in my sermon preparation\n for Sunday, and it also happens that I am going to preach on _whole\n families_ believing on Christ. What brought this subject to my mind\n is one of our old Christians who is dying, the only Christian in\n his whole family. His great grief is that they (his family) remain\n heathens. In addition, too, a Christian father admitted to a\n missionary the other day that he had not taught Christ to his\n daughter who had just died. Preaching on this subject I will have\n something to say about my own dear, good, anxious mother, and of\n how she used to say when I was a boy, \"_What a terrible thing it\n will be if I see you shut out of heaven!_\" She did not say\n terrible; \"unco\" was her word.\n\n 'I have not yet had time to realise my loss, and cannot think of\n the Hamilton house as being without her. Eh, man! you know how good\n a mother she was to us, and I have some idea of what a companion\n and help she was to you. You two had nearly fifty years together.\n You must feel lonely without her. Fathers and mothers are thought\n much of by the Chinese, and you, at my suggestion, were most\n heartily and feelingly prayed for by the Chinese at our\n prayer-meeting to-night. You would have felt quite touched could\n you have heard and understood them.'\n\nThere is a special interest attaching to the sentence used frequently by\nhis mother. On page 41 he refers to his conversion, but no record\nappears to have been preserved, giving any detail or fixing with any\nexactness the date. But his brothers have a conviction that his constant\nrecollection of the oft-repeated and well-remembered words, 'What an\nunco thing it will be if I see you shut out of heaven!' was one of the\nmost potent influences in bringing about his conversion. The letters\nimmediately following were written during the last two years of his\nfather's life.\n\n 'Let us not be disturbed at all about our not having more\n communication. I pray often for you and remember you more\n frequently still, and feel more and more that earth is a shifting\n scene, that here we have no permanent place, that heaven is our\n home, that your wife--my dear mother--has gone there, that my wife\n has gone there and is now in the Golden City, and that, sooner or\n later, you and I will be there, and that, when there, we'll have\n plenty of time to sit about and talk all together in a company.\n Lately I have come to see that we have but to put ourselves into\n the hands of Jesus and let Him do with us as He likes, and He'll\n save us _sure and certain_. He can make us willing even to let Him\n change us and train us.\n\n 'You are eighty years old. I am proud of you. I like to think of\n your life. Mother told me, when I was a lad, of some of your early\n struggles. God has been with you and guided you on through all to a\n good old age of honour and respect and love. Trust Him and He'll\n not leave you. Depend upon it, God has something better for us in\n the world to come than He has ever given us here. And it is not\n difficult to get it. God wants to give it to us all; offers it to\n us, and is distressed if we don't take it. We have only to go to\n Christ and ask Jesus to make it all right for us, and He'll do it.\n I know you are in earnest. Jesus will turn away no earnest man.'\n\nMr. Gilmour senior acted as steward of the little store which his son by\nrigid economy was amassing for the benefit of his children. Scotch\nthrift was well exemplified in them both. But in the course of 1887\nJames Gilmour became troubled about this accumulation of even that small\nsum which he could call his own. In his lonely introspective Mongolian\nlife the possession of money came to wear in his view the aspect of\ndistrusting God. At this juncture the London Missionary Society was in a\nsomewhat serious state as regards funds. A special appeal had been sent\nout indicating that if additional funds were not forthcoming, some\nfields of work might have to be given up. James Gilmour's response was\nan order to pay over anonymously the sum of 100_l._ to the general funds\nof the Society, and 50_l._ to that set apart for widows and orphans.\n\n\n 'March 16, 1887.\n\n 'My dear Father,--Some explanation is due to you of the order to\n pay the London Missionary Society 100_l._ of my money as a\n contribution to their funds.\n\n 'The money that I have in the bank is the result of long and, much\n of it, of self-denying savings on my part and the part of my late\n wife--more on hers than mine, perhaps. When she died, and I was\n going off to this remote and isolated field, it was a comfort to me\n to think that in the event of my death there was a little sum laid\n past which would help my sons to get an education. I have added to\n that sum all I could from my house-furniture sale, &c., and it has\n reached a good figure--the exact sum I cannot yet tell--I have not\n yet had your account for 1886.\n\n 'Some time ago God seemed to say, \"_Entrust that money to My\n keeping!_\" and, as days went on, the command seemed to get more\n loud and be ever present, so much so that finally I could not read\n my Bible for it or pray. I had no resource left but to obey; I did\n not like to give it up; but finally it has appeared to me that God\n is only keeping the funds for the lads and that He will arrange for\n them to have them all right when they are needed. How He can do\n this I need not ask. He may, for instance, keep me alive for the\n sake of the lads. In one sense it seems an unwise thing not to be\n laying up something for the children's education; but that is only\n one side of it. God seems to ask me to trust Him with my children,\n and I trust Him with them. They are far from my care and control,\n and I know such painful cases of the children of missionaries\n growing up unbelievers that I dare not do anything that seems to me\n not to be putting them fully into God's care and up-bringing.\n\n 'In addition, I am exhorting people here to become Christians, by\n doing which they throw themselves and their children outside of the\n community. I tell them to do it, and trust God's protecting them in\n troubles and helping them in difficulties; and I can hardly do that\n if I have not faith in God myself for me and mine.\n\n 'Again, I need God's help and blessing much in my work here, and I\n do not seem to myself to be able to expect it if I do not trust\n Him. So please regard the money removed as not lost, only put into\n a safer bank.'\n\nThe following letter, also dealing with money matters from the Christian\npoint of view, is so striking in many ways that it has been deemed\nadvisable to quote it _in extenso_:--\n\n\n 'Ch'ao Yang, Mongolia: May 6, 1888.\n\n 'My dear Father,--Enclosed please find some directions about the\n disposal of my money. These arrangements are so contrary to my\n previous arrangements that some explanation is due to you and to my\n brothers. Here they are.\n\n 'In my mission work out here I am much thrown upon God. The field\n is a very hard one. The superstitions are like towns walled up to\n heaven. The power of man avails nothing against them. As far as man\n is concerned I am almost alone. I turn to God. I hear the words,\n \"Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit,\" saith the Lord. I\n trust Him. I call upon Him. I commune with Him. He comes near me. I\n ask Him to convert men. There are conversions, a few true, as far\n as I can judge. But there seems some barrier between God and me to\n a certain extent. Thinking round to see what it can be, I hear a\n voice saying, \"Can't you trust Me with the money you have laid up\n for your children?\" I think over it I pray over it. I say, \"I may\n die and the boys need the money.\" God replies, \"If you trust Me\n with it, don't you think I'd give them it as they needed?\" I say,\n \"But my father and brothers might not see it so, and might not like\n the idea of destitute orphan children on their hands.\" God replies,\n \"With _Me_ for their banker children are not destitute, and if you\n prefer father and brothers before Me, you are not worthy of Me.\"\n Then I say, \"What will you have me do?\" God says, \"Give Me the\n money; I'll see they have all that is necessary.\" I dare not\n disobey. I don't want to disobey. I am so much exercised over the\n spiritual well-being of the boys, that I gladly do anything that\n will make them in any sense more specially prot\u00c8g\u00c8s of God. I am\n alarmed at the fate of some missionaries' children who have not\n turned out godly men. Preserve the boys from this!\n\n 'This is no sudden resolution. I have thought and prayed much over\n it. I can delay this step no longer without feeling I would be\n refusing to follow God's guidance. I feel, too, that God has so\n many ways in which He can bless the lads and me, that in making\n this arrangement I am running no risk. The only thing I am not\n quite clear about is the detailed disposition of the money.\n Meantime, it seems to me that I can best use it for God in this\n mission here. I mean to bank it in Peking, in the first instance,\n and use it for renting or buying premises.\n\n 'As to the general principle of having money for ourselves or\n children, I do not think God asks us all to put all we may have or\n get thus in His keeping, or asks me even to put _all_ into His\n keeping in this especial manner. You know the money was originally\n saved from the salary given by the mission, and in this sense is\n peculiar. Money that I had earned by trade, or otherwise come by, I\n do not think God would ask me to dispose of it so. But His voice\n seems very plain in this present case.\n\n 'My salary I shall still have paid to me, and the children's\n remittances shall come as usual. If I live I guess this will be\n enough for the education of the lads. If I die, the lads are not\n destitute. Even in a worldly sense, and quite apart from this sum\n which I am banking with God, and which I am sure He'll repay with\n compound interest when needed, if left orphans they would be in\n some sense provided for by the London Missionary Society, which,\n though it gives no pensions to any one, yet yearly raises funds and\n gives money to broken-down old missionaries, widows, and orphans. I\n don't suppose it is much or enough, but it is something. I say this\n that you may not be troubled should your faith be weak or waver.\n\n 'I hope that these arrangements may not seem unwise to you, and\n will commend themselves to you far enough to have your consent if\n not your warm approval. For myself I am thankful that God has given\n me faith enough to trust Him so. It has taken time to come to this.\n Myself is a small matter--it takes more faith to trust for one's\n children. Just fancy old Abraham offering his Isaac. Just fancy,\n God so loved the world that He gave His only Son. Let us respond to\n God's love.\n\n 'Your loving son,\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\nIn compliance with his wish a sum amounting to several hundred pounds\nwas sent out to Peking and there banked by him. Had not the many\ndifficulties which Chinese habits placed in the way prevented the\ncompletion of negotiations, there is hardly any doubt that James Gilmour\nwould have himself spent this money on his own mission-field. He died\nbefore any of the negotiations for premises which he had commenced\nreached a successful issue. As he had not specified in his will that\nthis sum was to be devoted to mission work, the trustees of his boys\nhave had no alternative, and have felt it their duty to consider it a\npart of his estate, the income of which should be devoted to the\neducation of his sons. But the intention of James Gilmour was clear and\nwell known, and it is to be hoped that the interest felt by many friends\nin his life and work will prove strong enough to secure a permanent home\nfor the mission as a memorial of its founder, and on the site of his\nglad and self-sacrificing toil.\n\nA year or two later, in a letter to his boys, he seeks to enforce the\nduty of careful, systematic giving to God.\n\n\n 'Ch'ao Yang: August 19, 1890.\n\n 'I wonder if you are giving a tenth of all the money you get to\n God. I think it is a right thing to do and a good thing. Mamma did\n it: I do it: and God never let us want for money. I would be glad\n if you would like to do it. But don't do it merely to please me.\n Don't do it except you can do it gladly. God likes people to do\n things gladly. I am quite sure you would get blessing by it. Money\n given to God is never lost. And it is easier to begin the habit now\n than later.\n\n 'When you give it to God you can put it into the London Missionary\n Society box; it would only be fair to give some little part of it\n at the collection at the church to which you go. You could give\n some of it for destitute children. It does not matter much where\n you give it. I think the London Missionary Society has the best\n claim. Think over it, boys. Jesus died to save us: surely we can\n show our gratitude by giving Him some of our money?'\n\nLater letters to his father outline for us his religious experience, and\nenable us to realise something of the spiritual experience of these\nyears.\n\n\n 'Ch'ao Yang: March 29, 1887.\n\n 'I am wondering how you all are. God has been drawing me nearer to\n Him these last weeks, and I am living in the hope that He will\n bless me and my work largely some day. There is much ignorance to\n be removed, much suspicion, much misunderstanding of me as a\n foreigner, and I am hammering away as hard as I can. There are\n mountains of difficulty to be removed, but I am trusting in God to\n remove them, and these last days I have had much peace and joy in\n my heart thinking of God's love to me and the salvation of Jesus. I\n have no doubt at all about my being His, and sometimes the great\n hope is almost too much to realise. But I am often at the same time\n downcast that I cannot see more people here converted, and I think\n that, if God has a favour to me and delights in me, He can well\n move the hearts of these people to believe in His Son, and choose\n out people to come and help me in my work. I am sometimes lonely\n here, and wish I had a friend to talk to and tell all my troubles,\n and then I think that Jesus is such a friend, and so I tell Him all\n my griefs; but I would like to have a colleague.\n\n 'I hope, my dear father, that your heart is contented and happy in\n Jesus. Only let Him arrange all things for you as regards your\n soul, and He'll do it all right. He can be trusted. Heaven is not\n far away; we'll soon be there; comfort your heart. Won't it be too\n blessed to be again with our wives, freed from all that is earthly,\n and suffering, and surrounded by nothing but what is nice! This is\n no dream: it is real; it is true; it is kept for us; it will be\n ours. We'll see it soon; you and I will be there together. It may\n be some time before we are there together; but years soon pass.\n Cheer up, my father!\n\n 'We miss much by not living near to Jesus--taking Him at His word\n and expecting that He'll do all we need done for us both in saving\n us and in making our hearts good. Jesus is real and heaven is real,\n and our share in heaven, if we trust and follow Jesus, is real. You\n say you are busy: so am I. You have cares: so have I. Go ahead and\n look after your work and business; but you'll do it all the better\n that your heart is at peace with God and at rest in Jesus. I find\n that the closer I am to Jesus the better I can meet and bear all\n troubles, trials, and difficulties, and you will find the same true\n if you try.\n\n 'I feel quite lifted up to-night. I have a room to myself. This is\n the first time I have had a room to myself since leaving Peking\n January 25. It is pleasant to be private a little. This room is\n private to me alone only after (say) 8 P.M., when I am left in\n peace. I hope to have this room for three weeks.\n\n 'I am afraid, if you saw the room, you would not think it much of a\n place. To-night, too, I have a pillow. For over three weeks I have\n rested my head on some folded-up bag or article of dress: to-night\n I have a pillow. Christ had not where to lay His head. In all\n things I am still better off than He was. If I could only see souls\n saved I would not care for the roughing it.'\n\nIn a letter later in the same year to a missionary colleague in a\ndistant field Mr. Gilmour unveils still further his religious history:--\n\n\n 'Mongolia: October 7, 1887.\n\n 'Yours of May 31 to hand three or four days ago. The China Inland\n Mission has a lot of good men in it. It does a good work. It is\n warm-hearted devotion that wins souls and gets God's approval. My\n experience has been different from yours, happily. All along I have\n gone on the \"headlong for Christ\" way of things here, even when\n preaching to the most intellectual English and American audiences,\n and they have received me royally. Man, God has waked me up these\n last years to such an extent that I feel a different man. I\n sometimes wonder now if I was converted before. I suppose I was,\n but the life was a cold, dull one. Just the other day Jesus, so to\n speak, put out His hand and touched me as I was reading a hymn,\n something about desiring spiritual things and passing by Jesus\n Himself. I wanted His blessing more than I wanted Him. That is not\n right. Lately, too, I have become calm. Before I worked, oh so hard\n and so much, and asked God to bless my work. Now I try to pray more\n and get more blessing, and then work enough to let the blessing\n find its way through me to men. And this is the better way. It is\n the right way. And I work a lot even now. Perhaps as much as\n before; but I don't worry at the things I cannot overtake. I feel,\n too, more than I did, that God is guiding me. Oh! sometimes the\n peace of God flows over me like a river. Then it is so blessed,\n heaven is real. So is God: so is Jesus. Our lot is a great one.\n\n 'Try not to fly around so much: take more time with God. Be more in\n private prayer with Him, and see if He will not give you a greater\n spiritual blessing for your people. After all, the great want, as I\n gather from your letters, is the spiritual blessing on the people.\n Ask it, man, and you'll get it. God's promises are sure. I am\n trying to combine the China Inland Mission, the Salvation Army, and\n the L.M.S. I have a great district, and a hard one, all to myself.\n There is said to be a young doctor on his way out to me. I am\n writing by this mail for three young laymen. Non-smoking and\n teetotalism are conditions of Church membership. I have seen no\n foreigner since January 25, and am not likely to see one till\n December 5. My mails take an enormous time to reach me, and two\n sent in June and July from Peking (eight days off) have never come\n to hand at all. I am baffled, battered and bruised in soul in many\n ways, but, thank God, holding on and believing that He is going to\n bless me.\n\n 'Eh, man, never talk of not going back. Go back, though you can\n only do half work; go back, and work less and pray more. That is\n what you need. I have been a vegetarian for over a year. I find\n fasting helpful to prayer. Two books by Andrew Murray, Wellington,\n Cape Town--_Abide in Christ, With Christ in the School of\n Prayer_--have done me much good. May blessings be on your dear wife\n and children! Yours, hoping to have a good long holiday with you in\n heaven,\n\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\nSome years earlier in his career he had written a letter of brotherly\nremonstrance to one who, in a moment of depression and without any\nadequate cause, felt himself slighted. The same spirit breathes through\nboth, but is richer and fuller in the later letter. God had been\nteaching James Gilmour in a hard, but a fruitful school.\n\n 'I know of your zeal in working at home as well as abroad, and I am\n greatly grieved to find you think you are badly treated. I think it\n is very unfortunate that any agent should have that feeling about\n his Society, L.M.S. or other. I am alarmed, too, my dear fellow, to\n find you express yourself so strongly. It is hardly the thing.\n Would Christ have said that? I do hope you will pardon my speaking\n so, but you know sometimes a rash word does more harm than a deed\n even. And I am anxious that you should have a peaceful mind. _I_\n know your value, and wish to see you nearly perfect. Let me remind\n you of a thing we both believe, and a thought I have often been\n comforted by. Jesus has suffered even more for us than we can ever\n suffer for Him, and what you do in raising funds and endeavouring\n is done, not for L.M.S., but for Him, _for Him_, and He sees and\n knows and won't forget, but sympathises and appreciates, and at the\n end will speak up straight and open for His true men. I often lug\n portmanteaus, walk afoot, and, as the Chinese say, \"eat\n bitterness,\" in China and in England. I am not thanked for it, but\n He knows. No danger of being overlooked. Now, don't be \"huffed\" at\n my lecturing you, and don't think I must think a lot of myself to\n suppose that I am running up a bill of merit, like a Buddhist, and\n think I am Jesus's creditor. My dear fellow, you know better than\n that. I point out to you and remind you of the only way I know to\n be persistently useful, and at the same time happy.'\n\nBut of all the relationships of life--son, brother, friend, ambassador\nfor Christ--that which most naturally, most profoundly, and most\nbeautifully reveals his very heart is when he writes as the loving\nfather to his distant motherless boys. A large number of his letters to\nthem have been entrusted to the hands of his biographer. Many of them\ntouch upon subjects too sacred for publication. They deal with those\nclosest of earthly ties in which not even intimate friends can\nlegitimately claim a share. But it was felt that they reveal a side of\nhis nature and character that ought not to be entirely hidden in any\npicture of his life. For this reason a somewhat extensive selection has\nbeen made from this tender and helpful correspondence. When it first\nbegan the lads were too young to read the letters themselves, but he\nwrote long accounts of his work to be read to them, and it is pleasant\nto see how keen his eye became in noting such things as were likely to\namuse them and to arrest their attention. Some of the letters are\nwritten in big letters resembling printed capitals. The brief, childlike\nletters that were sent to him by them were bound up into a paper volume,\nwhich he carried about with him during his Mongolian wanderings, and in\nlooking them over he found an unfailing solace and refreshment. He often\nillustrated his own letters to them by rough but effective sketches of\npersons and things which he saw. The death of their mother had brought\nthe lads and their father very near to one another, and although lost to\nsight, they always thought and spoke of the dear one who had gone as\nstill of the family, as in perfect happiness, and waiting only God's\ntime to reunite them in the happy life of heaven.\n\nWhen it was decided to entrust them to the care of an uncle in Scotland,\nMr. Gilmour set out the desires he cherished with regard to their\ntraining. It is only to be regretted that similar plans are not formed\nand acted upon in the training of all children.\n\n 'The laddies are here with me now, and I am both father and mother\n to them. To-night I darned three stockings for them when they went\n to bed. You see I have been away two months, and in a week or two I\n may have to part from them for ten years, so I am having a little\n leisure time with them. I sometimes do feel real bad at the idea of\n the two orphan lads going away so far; but then the promise of\n Christ that no one leaves parents or children for His sake, without\n being repaid manifold, comforts me by making me believe that God\n will raise up friends to comfort them wherever they may be.\n\n 'Cheer up! The two worlds are one, and not far separate. Mrs.\n Prankard, I hear, won't have Emily's name mentioned. We here go on\n the other tack, and the children are all day long talking about\n what mamma did and said, and adventures we had together. And why\n not? The tears come sometimes: let them, they do no harm, are a\n relief more than anything, and the time is coming when God will\n wipe away all tears from our eyes.\n\n 'I wish them to be Christ's from their youth up. I wish them to get\n a good thorough education, not too expensive, to be able to read,\n write, and spell well. Should either of them turn out likely, I\n might be able to let both, or that one have a college education,\n but I don't want either of them to go there if they don't show\n adaptation for it.\n\n 'What I want of you is something money cannot buy, motherly and\n fatherly care in Christ for the desolate lads, whose whole life in\n time and eternity too may largely depend on how they are trained\n and treated during the next few years. I am not rich, but I can\n support my boys. This Christian care and love, however, is what is\n not to be had for money, so I beg it.\n\n 'I had five hours' conversation with one Chinaman at a stretch the\n other day. I think he was not far from the kingdom of God at first,\n and I believe he is nearer now. All these things take time, and I\n am most anxious to be with the children much these last days. Oh,\n it is hard to think of them going off over the world in that\n motherless fashion! We were at mamma's grave yesterday for the\n first time since September 21. We sang \"There is a land that is\n fairer than day,\" in Chinese, and also a Chinese hymn we have here\n with a chorus, which says, \"We'll soon go and see them in our\n heavenly home,\" and in English, \"There is a happy land.\" The\n children and I have no reluctance in speaking of mamma, and we\n don't think of her as here or buried, but as in a fine place, happy\n and well.'\n\nHere are a few short extracts from the earlier letters:--\n\n 'Cheer up, my dear sonnies! We shall see each other some day yet.\n Tell all your troubles to Jesus, and let Him be your friend. I, out\n here, think often of mamma and her nice face, and how good she was\n to you and to me. You will not forget her. She sees you every day,\n and is so pleased when you are good lads. We'll all go some day and\n be with her, won't that be good? Meantime, Jesus is taking care of\n her, and will take care of us.\n\n 'Sometimes, when I am writing a letter to you, and come to the foot\n of a page, and want to turn over the leaf, I don't take blotting\n paper and blot it, but kneel down and pray while it is drying.\n\n 'I am going away, too, in a few days; then I'll have no one but\n Chinese to speak to. Never mind, I'll just tell Jesus all my\n affairs; I cannot go away from Him. He is never too busy to talk to\n me. Just you, too, tell Jesus all your troubles. He sees both you\n and me.'\n\nFrom the longer letters we select three or four, and give them exactly\nas they were written. From them the character of many others, from which\nonly brief extracts can be taken, may be judged.\n\n\n 'Ch'ao Yang: April 10, 1887.\n\n 'My dear Sons,--I am well and thankful for it. I am getting on well\n too, thank God. I have had terrible weather lately though. Daily I\n have my tent--it is only a cloth roof on six bamboo poles--put up\n in the market-place. We have had three days' wind. Eh, man, the\n first day the dust was terrible. But I had lots of patients and\n remained out all day. At last we had to take down our tent. It\n could not stand. The tent was carried to the inn, but we remained\n with our table till evening. You would hardly have known us for\n dust. But patients came all the time. Next day the tent was blown\n down twice. Once a man's head got such a smack with the bamboo tent\n pole, but he said nothing and took it quite pleasantly. A peep-show\n man near us got his show blown down and scattered about. He\n gathered it up and went home to his inn.\n\n[Illustration: JAMES GILMOUR'S TENT]\n\n 'I am so glad that the people like us and trust us and come about\n us for medicines. Women came too. Boys came too. Just now the\n school boys have holiday for the fair, and they stand for a long\n time together looking at me doctoring the people. What the boys\n like to see is a glass bottle of eye medicine which I bring out and\n set up. Then I dip a glass tube in and press an india-rubber\n bulb. The air comes out in the water in bubbles and rises up to\n the surface, and the boys are so delighted to see it bubbling. They\n will wait a long time and like to see it ever so often. They are\n sometimes troublesome, then I send them away. When they are good I\n shove the glass tube deep down into the bottle, and they are so\n delighted to see the air bubbling up from the bottom.\n\n 'When a man comes to have a tooth pulled even the men are\n delighted, and advise him to have it out. They want to see the fun.\n Mothers send their little boys for medicine, and I am so pleased\n with some of the little lads. They are so modest and so polite,\n making a deep bow as they go away. Always be modest and polite, my\n sons, and people will love you and treat you well.\n\n 'The boys buy a lot of books too, and I preach to them earnestly,\n because in ten years to come they will be men, and if they know\n about Jesus now they may more easily become Christians some day\n soon. You, Jimmie, know Jesus; does Willie? Teach him. Mamma is not\n here to teach him, and I am far away. You are his big brother.\n Teach you him like a good laddie as you are.\n\n 'The other day when I was preaching a man was standing behind me\n with a little black pig under his arm. He wanted to hear me preach,\n but the pig would not be quiet. He held its mouth shut, but the\n little pig would still manage to give a squeak now and again. At\n last it would not be quiet at all, and he had to go away with it. I\n could not help smiling at him. There is an old man here in my inn.\n He is owner of the inn. His son manages the inn. The old man is not\n very old. He is about sixty-five. But he used to be a great opium\n smoker. A year or more ago he had a very serious illness and gave\n up his opium, but he had wrecked his health by his smoking. He\n cannot now live many months. He can hardly speak plainly now. He\n comes to see me in my room, and I try to tell him about Jesus,\n hoping that he may be saved. He listens, but he is not very bright\n in his mind. I hope he may pray to Jesus.\n\n 'The other day I had to pull my own tooth. It was the back tooth\n and had been painful for days. There was no one who could do it for\n me, so I sat down with a little Chinese looking-glass before a\n candle, got a good hold of it with the forceps, and after a good\n deal of wrenching out it came. He _was_ a deep-pronged fellow, and\n he did bleed. I was so thankful that God helped me to get it out. I\n can sleep now all right.\n\n 'Our Mongol donkeyman wants to be a Christian. I hope he is\n sincere, but he is very slow and dull at learning. There are three\n other men here who are learning about Jesus too, but it is too\n early yet to say much about them. A good many people learn some,\n then stop. But it is late and I must go to bed, else I won't be\n able to preach and doctor all day in the market-place at the fair\n to-morrow.\n\n 'Praying that God may bless you, my sons, and sending you much\n love,\n\n 'I am your affectionate Father,\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\n 'Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u]: Sept. 3, 1887.\n\n 'My dear Sons,--I am well, and thankful for it. The three\n Christians here come daily to evening worship. There are here\n others who want to be Christians, but who have not courage enough.\n One man's wife won't let him be a Christian; she says she will kill\n herself if he does. Another man is in the same case. He is a\n Chinaman, his wife is a Mongol. Still another man has a Mongol\n wife, and she kept him back. The other day he came and confessed\n Christianity. His wife does not consent, only says: \"We'll see.\"\n Another man's father hinders his son from Christianity. The lad is\n a very nice lad.\n\n 'Yesterday was the day when people make offerings of food and\n fruit at the graves. One of the Christians was sent to do so. He\n brought the melon here, and we ate half of it with him.\n\n 'Still another man is forbidden by his father to be a Christian.\n That is, in all, five men are Christians at heart, and read our\n books and are learning Christianity, but do not confess Christ in\n this one place. Do you know what Jesus says about such people\n (Matt. x. 32-39)? Jesus says that, if they obey others rather than\n Him, they are not worthy to be His disciples. I am praying for all\n these people. I ask you, too, to pray for these and all like them,\n that they may be able to confess Christ. It is difficult for men in\n China to be Christians. How different with you! We all want you to\n be Christians. Your father and friends all help you to be\n Christians, and if you are not Christians we are all distressed.\n\n 'Boys, do be true to Jesus. In your words and deeds honour Him.\n Make _His_ heart glad. Jesus wants your love. He loves you and died\n for you. You cannot but love Him if you think how He loves you.\n Good-bye. Meantime I am just going to breakfast, and then for a day\n on the street, trying to tell the people about Jesus. God bless\n you, my dear lads!\n\n 'It is now afternoon. I write a few lines. A lad in a shop here has\n a tame dove. He has painted it all over different colours. It looks\n absurd. I don't like to see it sitting about the shop. Doves look\n so happy flying about. Mamma, too, liked to see birds on the trees\n and houses wild, not kept in cages.\n\n 'I guess you are just about getting your breakfast. Here it is\n about 4 P.M. With you it should be 8 A.M. Saturday; I wish I could\n see you. My love to you, my dear sons. May you always, both now and\n when grown, be boys and men that know and love Jesus! I pray for\n you. Your loving father,\n\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\nIn August 1884 a third son was given to Mr. and Mrs. Gilmour, whom they\nnamed Alexander. In 1887 spinal trouble developed, and in December of\nthat year he died. 'Though often ill,' wrote his father when announcing\nthe death to the uncle after whom he had been named, 'his life was a\nhappy one. It is now happier than ever. Thanks be to God that there is,\nand that we know that there is, a bright and happy life beyond. Let us\nmake that the great meeting-place for ourselves and our children and\nfriends. May it stand before us as a joy! As ever and anon one and\nanother goes there, may we feel that we have more and more interest\nthere! Let us live looking to the joy set before us!' This baby-brother\nis the Alick referred to in the following letter:--\n\n\n 'Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u], Mongolia: February 11, 1888.\n\n 'My dear Sons,--I am well, and thankful for it. I got here two days\n ago. I had such a cold time of it on the road! I never felt the\n cold so much before.\n\n 'People here are very busy. This is the last day of the Chinese\n year.\n\n 'To-morrow is the first day of the Chinese year. Everybody is\n buying all sorts of food, because the shops do not open for some\n days after the new year. They are very busy, too, scraping off the\n old papers at the sides of their doors and pasting up new papers.\n They (the papers) are red, and look fine at first with the great\n black Chinese characters written on them. But the sun after a while\n takes the colour out of them.\n\n 'They are busy, too, pasting up the new gods in their houses. They\n (the gods) are sheets of paper with pictures of gods on them. Every\n house has a god of the kitchen. They send him to heaven, as they\n think, by burning him. They burnt the old one last Saturday. They\n are putting up the new one now. They think that when he is burnt he\n goes to heaven and reports to a god what he has seen in the house\n during the year. I ask them if I burnt them would they think they\n were going to heaven? They buy sticky sugar-cakes to give him so\n that he may be pleased, and not tell on them for doing evil things.\n They think, too, that the sugar sticks his lips together, so that\n when he wants to tell on them he can't get his mouth open! Isn't it\n all very silly and very sad? The shopkeepers, too, paste up a \"god\n of riches,\" thinking that thus they will become rich!\n\n 'To-morrow (Sunday) I hope to baptize a man. He is a Chinaman. That\n will make four Christians here. They all have faults and\n weaknesses, and I am not very easy in my mind about them. Pray that\n God may make them better and make them grow in grace. Pray, too,\n that God may convert more of the people. Pray, too, that God may\n give us a house of our own to live in. People here are afraid to\n let us have a house. Now that Dr. Roberts is coming, we will need a\n house. He is coming in six or seven weeks. Then he stays two\n months, and goes back to Tientsin for a while again. We saw the\n Christian at T\u00b7 Ss[)u] Kou as we passed. The Ch'ao Yang man we have\n not seen yet.\n\n 'I have made all your letters to me into a book, and have them with\n me. Your letters are nice to read, and show great improvement in\n the writing. I am going to keep all your letters this year too and\n bind them. You may like to see them when you grow big. The last\n letter from you is dated October 27.\n\n 'My dear sons, I think of you often and pray for you much.\n\n 'You have a photo of mamma's grave. Little Alick's little mound is\n close to mamma's, on the side nearer little Edie's. Mamma's and\n Alick's coffins touch down below. They lie together. But mamma and\n Alick are not there. They are in heaven, with its golden streets\n and its beautiful river, and its trees of life, and its beautiful\n gates, and its good, loving, kind people, and Jesus and God. They\n are having such a nice time of it there!\n\n 'My boys, don't be afraid of dying. Pray to Jesus, do the things He\n likes, and if you die you will go to Him, to His fine place, where\n you'll have everything that is nice and good. I don't know whether\n you or I will go there first, but I hope that by-and-by we'll all\n be there, mamma and Alick and all. I like to think of this.\n Meantime let us be doing for Jesus all we can, telling people about\n Him and trying to persuade them to be His people. Are your\n schoolfellows Jesus' boys? Do you ever tell them of Him? Tell them,\n my dear sons.\n\n 'I hope to get letters from you in about a month.\n\n 'Good-bye, my dear boys.\n\n 'May you be good and diligent, and then you'll be happy. Jesus can\n make you glad.\n\n 'Your loving Father,\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\nMrs. Meech had shown much motherly kindness to her little nephew\nAlexander, and only a few months after he had died she herself lost a\nlittle son. Mr. Gilmour, on hearing the sad tidings, wrote to her as\nfollows:--\n\n\n 'Mongolia: March 25, 1888.\n\n 'My dear Mrs. Meech,--Many congratulations and condolences with\n you. Your little son has gone to Emily. She'll look after the\n little man as you looked after her little man. Just fancy! we have\n family connections in heaven not a few, and ever increasing. I hope\n you are now getting better and going on all right.\n\n 'I am much cheered by the good news of soul movements in the West\n Mission. May they continue and increase!\n\n 'With many prayers for you all, and kept in constant remembrance of\n you all by the date block,\n\n 'Yours in loving sympathy,\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\n 'May 30, 1888.\n\n 'I am doctoring a little homeless lad's head here. I put on\n ointment all over it to-day. He cried. I said I had medicine that\n would stop the pain, and brought out six cash--one farthing--and\n told him to go and have a bowl of buckwheat meal strings. All\n laughed, he stopped crying, and did not seem to feel the pain after\n that. Most of the people in the town are much impressed with the\n improvement in the boy's head. Before he came to me I saw a Chinese\n medicine-man poking at the lad's head with a straw. When he came I\n rubbed on ointment with my finger. The bystanders were much pleased\n to see I was not averse to touching the poor dirty lad's sore head.\n Jesus touched a leper, and I like to do things like what Jesus\n would do. That is the right way, boys. Always think what Jesus\n would have done, and do like Him.'\n\n\n 'Mongolia: Sept. 9, 1888.\n\n 'My dear Sons,--I am out on a journey. I knew letters were being\n sent me, and hoped to meet them. A long way off I saw a red\n umbrella, the sun shining through the oilcloth. The thought passed\n through my mind, \"Can that be the messenger?\" But I forgot all\n about it, reading a book as I walked along. All at once I heard,\n \"He's come,\" and looking up, saw the red umbrella close at hand. It\n _was_ him. The messenger returns to-morrow. I had had no letters\n for eighty days.\n\n 'I wrote you last on August 2. Since then several men have\n professed Christ, and one man has been baptized.\n\n 'One of the Christians at Ta Ch\u00cdng Tz[)u] stole my bankbook and\n drew money of mine, amounting to about 3_l._ He says he is\n penitent, and we have put him on a year's probation to see how he\n does. He is a lazy man. Long ago I said, \"If you are lazy, some day\n the devil will make you a sinner,\" and so he did. Had he been a\n diligent man he would not have been poor and would not have stolen.\n Diligence is a good thing, laziness is a bad thing. A good\n Christian cannot be lazy, because he knows Jesus does not like lazy\n people. I may write you again in a few days. Hoping next mail to\n get a letter from you (there was none this mail), and asking God to\n bless you in everything, and guide you in all your life,\n\n 'I am your loving Father,\n 'JAMES GILMOUR'\n\n\n 'Ch'ao Yang, Mongolia: Saturday, November 17, 1888.\n\n 'My dear Sons,--On the street to-day I saw a crowd standing. I went\n up to see what they were looking at, and found two Chinese\n gentlemen showing off a trained bird. One of the men stood down on\n the street. The other put three little flags so that they stuck on\n the wall. The bird then flew away, caught up a flag, and came\n flying back to its master in the street, carrying the flag in its\n bill. It looked very clever. Every time the bird brought a flag it\n was rewarded by being fed with some nice food which it liked. It\n was very pretty to see it. But after all it was a very trifling\n employment for two grown gentlemen to be engaged in. Even the crowd\n of ordinary Chinese seemed to think so.\n\n 'I don't like to see birds in captivity. It is pretty to see them\n wild flying about, and to hear them singing, but I pity them in\n cages, and tied by string as the Chinese are fond of doing with\n them. When I see birds tied I often think of mamma who used so much\n to like to see them wild.\n\n 'I remember one day in Mongolia mamma stopped me from plucking a\n flower; she said it looked so pretty growing. Another time a beetle\n flew and alighted somewhere; mamma said, \"It is so glad that it is\n alive, don't hurt it.\"\n\n 'I am a good deal distressed to see the boys in the market-place.\n They steal just as much as ever they can from the sellers of straw\n and fuel, pluck out handfuls from the bundles and run away not at\n all ashamed. If the owner does not chase them they get off with it.\n If he throws down his load and runs after them they drop the\n plunder, the owner picks it up, and no more is said about it.\n\n 'In summer little naked boys follow people carrying fruit in open\n baskets and steal it as they can: it all seems so dishonest, and no\n one seems to care. On the street lots of people will see a thief\n stealing a man's pipe and never say a word, because it is not their\n business.'\n\n 'I often think of you and pray for you. You do not forget mamma, I\n am sure. She is with Jesus. Be you His lads, and do your lessons\n well, and He'll guide you all through life. Be diligent and careful\n lads, and you'll grow up useful and honoured men. Constantly tell\n Jesus all your affairs.\n\n 'Goodbye meantime, my boys.\n 'Much love from your affectionate Father,\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nCLOSING LABOURS\n\n\nJames Gilmour remained in Great Britain less than eight months. The\nsociety of his boys was a great delight to him. He rejoiced in renewed\nintercourse with relatives and old friends. His religious convictions\nand his own spiritual life deepened still more. He went to a\nconsiderable number of meetings to speak on missionary work and needs,\nand he everywhere produced a great impression.\n\nReferring to this visit, and especially to his intercourse with the\nboys, a near relative writes:--\n\n'It was a time full of interest and pleasure. What a variety of moods,\nfrom the frolicsome to the pathetic, he displayed! But evidently his\nwife's death had laid hold upon his very soul, and there seemed so much\nmore of sadness and tenderness than on his former visit, when he had\nenjoyed her bright companionship. On one occasion, referring to a\nmedical missionary who had brought his wife home from China hopelessly\nill, and who was expecting the end, he said: \"Eh, man, he little knows\nthe _terrible_ dark valley he has to come through, and if Christ is not\nwith him he will be undone!\" He spoke the words as though he were again\ngoing through his own agony, and then added: \"But if Christ is with him\nhe will come out of it with victory, and Christ will be dearer. But he\nhas _no_ idea what he has to face, though he thinks he has.\"\n\n'He had looked forward to spending part of his time with his sons at\nMillport, where he had spent June and July 1883 with his wife and boys\non his former visit. So we went there for a month, and they had a good\ntime boating, and walking, and reviving old memories of the happy home\ncircle. The thought of reunion was always made prominent. The boys must\never remember his earnest efforts to lead their thoughts heavenward, and\nthey do think of heaven as a very real place.\n\n'While at Millport he spent several nights in pasting up texts on every\nplace likely to catch the eye; on stones and gateways and fences all\nround the island. He felt he must work while time was granted to him. I\nhad noticed him making paste, but thought nothing of it. I had heard the\nsound of a softly closing door at midnight, but thought it must be\nfancy. It had gone to my heart to feel his icy cold hand when he gave me\nhis morning greeting. I noticed the little texts pasted up, but never\nthought of them as his work till the next day, when he began to make\nmore paste, and then the whole thing came to me like a flash. I begged\nhim with tears not to go out in the cold night air, and said that I knew\nGod would rather have him stay in his warm comfortable bed and get well\nand strong. He answered so kindly: \"Sister, it pains me to grieve you.\"\nBut he finished his work nevertheless.\n\n'He was always wonderfully considerate, and grateful for any attention.\nSometimes, when he saw me unusually tired, he would go and get an extra\npillow and make me rest on the sofa, or when we came to the table he\nwould place me in a comfortable chair and pour out the tea himself, or\nhe would say: \"Sister, take a cup yourself first, then you will be able\nto help us.\"\n\n'On the day before he left us to return to China he really said his\nfarewell. We had finished dinner, and when he went out he stood and\nlooked in through the window at the happy faces still around the table.\nHe threw a kiss, and then his feelings overcame him, his lip quivered,\nthe tears came to his eyes, and he hastened away. Later in the day, when\nI was speaking hopefully of seeing him again, he answered: \"I shall see\nyour face no more.\"\n\n'I know he felt very much giving up the comforts of civilised life, but\nhe set his face to it. It touched me much the last evening he was with\nus, when, after I had to remind him two or three times of some business\nit was needful for him to attend to before he would go, he said: \"I can\nhardly drag myself away from this bright cosy scene.\"\n\n'His was a rarely sensitive soul. It pained him to hear any one speaking\nevil of another. I have seen him turn deadly pale when he has heard any\none impute a wrong motive. He longed for more of the spirit of Christ\namong men. How he longed, too, for more workers in the Mission field!\nMany a time he would say, after a walk through Hamilton on a Saturday\nevening: \"Just think! In a little town like this there are men preaching\nat every other street corner, and I am alone in all of those hundreds of\nsquare miles in Mongolia! What you people are thinking of I cannot\nimagine!\"'\n\nIn a correspondence which he conducted with the daughter of one of his\nformer professors there is very much that reveals how deep and strong\nhis religious life had become, and how he had noted the current of\nrenewed spirituality which is evident now in all sections of the\nEvangelical Church.\n\nFrom this correspondence we have been permitted to cull some beautiful\nand helpful passages.\n\n\n 'Glasgow: November 18, 1889.\n\n 'May He Himself lead you into closer and closer communion with Him,\n and give you in very full measure His joy and His peace! For myself\n and for you, I pray that we may be more captivated with Him and His\n friendship. You know, I suppose, No. 565, \"In the Secret of His\n Presence,\" in the 750 edition of Sankey. No. 328, \"O Christ, in\n Thee my soul hath found,\" is one I like too, as being the\n expression of partly experience and partly aspiration. He is truly\n the true source of true satisfaction. May we be led to trust Him\n more largely in all the things of our lives! I am sure, too it will\n be the things where we have trusted Him most and been most\n consecrated in His service that we shall value most when we look\n back on life from the end. May you be largely satisfied with His\n blessing and Himself!'\n\n\n 'November 20, 1889.\n\n 'I wonder if your experience is anything like mine--that I have\n often got less benefit than I had hoped from special withdrawals\n from common surroundings to get more into the presence of the Lord.\n One or two prominent instances of this have happened to me. I am\n glad He can be found anywhere, and that He is easy of access always\n with favourable or unfavourable surroundings.\n\n 'About feeling--never mind that at all. Things are so whether we\n feel them or not. Let us take God at His word, and not consider\n our feelings. God refuses no one who comes to Him in sincerity. Let\n us be sure of this. I once heard Spurgeon say a good thing: \"When\n doubts or the devil comes and says, 'You are not saved; you are not\n right with God,' I go to Him and say, 'If I never came before, I\n come now; if I never trusted before, I trust now.'\" That cuts off\n all doubts about the present as standing on the past, and gives a\n fresh start.\n\n 'All over the kingdom there is a hunger and thirst among many for a\n life of greater nearness to God; a feeling not only of the need of\n God being more of a daily, hourly reality and factor in our life,\n but that without Him more real and present life is not a\n satisfactory thing. When this feeling takes possession of one, we\n do not need to give up things as denying ourselves for Christ, so\n much as that we are changed in attitude towards many things. We\n drift away from them. Things that were gain to us we count loss for\n Christ. Our aims are different. May our lives be more fully taken\n captive thus! To a life lived thus, death is not a breaking off of\n anything; it is an enlargement of sphere.'\n\n\n 'Hamilton: December 5, 1889.\n\n 'All I know about the process is just going to God and telling what\n I want, and asking to be allowed to have it. \"Seek, and ye shall\n find; ask, and ye shall receive.\" I know no secret but this.... God\n understands His scholars, and knows how to teach each one.\n Different scholars may require different ways. We may trust\n ourselves in His hands, only let us be earnest students. I have at\n different times been quite surprised how a book, or a friend, or a\n remark conveying just the teaching needed at the time has been\n brought into my way. Yes, none teach like Him.'\n\n '_December 25, 1889._--Oh that we may be more completely given over\n and up to Him to be used at His pleasure and as He pleases! Oh for\n more faith in Him! My lads are, I think, enjoying themselves; I\n commit them to Him; but eh!'\n\n '_January 1, 1890._--Just returned with my two lads after a day\n spent in London seeing my ship, the \"Peshawur\". The ship is full.\n My berth is not in a good place--but it is not bad, after all, and\n it is not for long.... You'll have lots of need of wisdom, and\n Jesus is made unto us wisdom as well as other things.... He'll\n teach you all right. Don't let us refrain for fear we make\n mistakes. The greatest mistake we could make would be to do\n nothing....\n\n 'Everyone is amazed to see me look so well. It is remarked on all\n round. I feel remarkably well too....\n\n 'May God be pleased to use me in His service!'\n\n\nHis heart was in Mongolia. At the very earliest moment which the medical\nauthorities and the Directors of the London Missionary Society would\nsanction he returned. He sailed for China on January 9, 1890. As the\nsteamer was running down the English Channel he wrote a letter to an old\ncollege friend just returning to England whom he had not seen for twenty\nyears, and whom he was very sorry to miss:--\n\n 'In answer to yours of November 19 I directed an envelope to you\n long ago. It has lain in my writing-case ever since, often seen but\n always taken precedence of by the thing that stepped in before.\n Now's your turn. I'm sorry you'll not see me in England. I sailed\n yesterday My health has been restored, and I am off again.\n\n 'You say you want reviving--Go direct to Jesus and ask it straight\n out, and you'll get it straight away. This revived state is not a\n thing you need to work yourself up into, or need others to help\n you to rise into, or need to come to England to have operated upon\n you--Jesus can effect it anywhere, and does effect it everywhere\n whenever a man or woman, or men and women ask it. Ask and ye shall\n receive.\n\n 'My dear brother, I have learned that the source of much blessing\n is just to go to Jesus and tell Him what you need. I am delighted\n to hear you say you need blessing, because I know there is plenty\n and to spare with Jesus. Oh for an outpouring on all parts of the\n L.M.S. missions!\n\n 'There is so much that I would like to say that it is hardly worth\n while beginning to say anything; so I'll simply commend you to\n Jesus in all His fulness.'\n\nOn January 21, 1890, when nearing Port Said, he wrote:--\n\n 'We have excellent company on board. Never had such a very pleasant\n voyage. Some of the First Salooners come to our Bible readings.\n Those who are unfriendly to Christianity are careful to give no\n cause of offence and are polite. So far our voyage has been an\n exquisite picnic. Knowing well what is before us, we still rejoice\n in the present Elim and calmly trust for the future. I went on\n board with a \"tremendous cold.\" So did two or three others. Mine,\n as I expected, went with the exposure.... No one teaches like Him\n who also was the first of preachers. In daily, hourly, humble\n communication with Him you will want for no wisdom and for no\n guidance and for no shepherding. Rejoice in that you have Him to\n manage everything for you.'\n\nHe reached Peking on March 14, 1890, and on March 24 started again for\nMongolia. He entered upon his last spell of work with a good heart and\nwith high hopes. Dr. Smith was to be his medical colleague. While in\nEngland Mr. Gilmour had visited Cheshunt College, and had there fired\nthe heart of Mr. Parker with the desire and purpose of being his\ncolleague. He was looking forward to his speedy arrival. During his\nabsence in England Dr. Smith had paid one brief visit to Mongolia by\nhimself, and another, still briefer, in the company of the Rev. T.\nBryson of Tientsin. Meanwhile the work had been going on slowly and\nsteadily under the care of the native helper, Mr. Liu, and of some of\nthe converts. We now follow the story of this last year's work as it is\ntold in Mr. Gilmour's letters and reports. On May 9, 1890, he wrote to\nthe Rev. R. Wardlaw Thompson:--\n\n 'I have been all over the district, spending a month at Ch'ao Yang.\n There we were privileged to baptize four adults, one a woman, and\n one child, all Chinese. Two of these were young men who have been\n under instruction for eight or nine months, and are very pleasing\n cases indeed. The other two were a man and his wife, who is the\n first woman who has had courage to be baptized in this district.\n These last are an outcome of the medical work. They live in a small\n hamlet where the first beginning of an interest in Christianity\n took its rise from a man who came to me in the market-place with a\n bad sore in his leg, which had been caused by a wound from his own\n harvest sickle. The sore was cured, and friendly relations sprung\n up with the whole hamlet, and I am thankful to hear that, though\n only one family has put away its idols, all the neighbours are\n friendly.\n\n 'In Ch'ao Yang there are several inquirers. Some of the Christians\n give great satisfaction, others are not so satisfactory. One man, a\n Christian, tells me that his wife was possessed by an evil spirit,\n and to please her and cure her he had to allow the re-establishment\n of the worship of that spirit for her benefit. No sooner was this\n done than the woman was cured! Such things are firmly believed in\n by the Chinese.\n\n 'A most pleasing incident in our experience at Ch'ao Yang was a\n visit from a well-to-do farmer who lives some twenty li from the\n town. He has been friendly and an inquirer from the first. He has\n made no profession of Christianity, but says he reads his New\n Testament regularly, and prays. He has also taught two men in his\n neighbourhood. The one is a carpenter. The other is a farmer. They\n know the Catechism, observe the Sunday, and meet with Mr. F\u00cdng for\n worship. Both of these men we saw, and their story seems true. F\u00cdng\n came and spent a day with us. I asked him why he did not make an\n open profession of Christianity. His reply was that he lives with\n his parents, as all Chinese do, and that he cannot arrange his\n house disregarding them, who with his wife and children are still\n heathen. He has been able only partially to do away with idols in\n his own house. Outside too of his own house heathen pressure is so\n great that, he says, were he to join Christianity it would be no\n use for him to live! He says he lacks the courage single-handed to\n meet all the persecution that would descend on him were he\n baptized. Meantime he is instructing those about him in the hope,\n apparently, that were there several together they could better\n stand the trouble. It is an interesting case, but not at all\n satisfactory. My hope about him is that, if he keeps conversant\n with the Word of God, the Spirit may give him no rest till he has\n courage to take his stand and make his confession.\n\n 'We had a splendid month in the market-place. Chinese and Mongols\n in plenty, both to preach to and to heal. One Mongol betrayed a\n most intimate and full knowledge of Christianity. The drought gave\n good opportunity of speaking of many things, and in most cases we\n had respectful attention. It was a _hard_ month's work. Seven till\n noon or a little after was our market time; the afternoon private\n patients, the evening inquirers, makes a very long day, which\n begins at daylight and does not end till after the second watch of\n the night has been set. The Chinese usually secure a rest just\n after noon, but frequently just then some patient would turn up,\n and put an end to quiet. In most cases the strain is relieved by\n holidays through rain and storm; but even this was wanting this\n time, so we had almost uninterrupted work.\n\n 'I am more than ever eager to have the medical work given over to a\n medical man. One day in Ch'ao Yang a man came swaggering across the\n open space in the marketplace. People pointed towards him and\n laughed. He was laughable, the ridiculous part of him being a straw\n hat which was an imitation, caricature rather, of a foreigner's\n hat. I could not help laughing. It was no laughing matter, though.\n He was a messenger from the cavalry camp just outside the town. He\n had come to take me to treat two soldiers who had received\n bullet-wounds in an encounter with Mongolian brigands. I had never\n seen a bullet-wound in my life, but I knew I could do more for the\n wounded men than any Chinese doctor; so I went. The wounds were\n then forty-eight hours old, and I dressed them as best I could,\n paying a daily visit for about a fortnight. Two wounds, though\n deep, were merely flesh; with these I had no difficulty. The third\n was a bone complication. I knew nothing of anatomy, had no books,\n absolutely nothing to consult; what could I do but pray? And the\n answer was startling. The third morning, when in the market-place\n attending to the ordinary patients, but a good deal preoccupied\n over the bone case, which I had determined should be finally dealt\n with that day if possible at all, there tottered up to me through\n the crowd a _live skeleton_, the outline of nearly every bone quite\n distinct, covered only with yellow skin, which hung about in loose\n folds. I think I see him yet--the chin as distinctively that of a\n skeleton as if it had bleached months on the plain. The man was\n about seventy, wore a pair of trousers, and had a loose garment\n thrown over his shoulders. He came for cough medicine, I think; if\n so, he got it; but I was soon engaged fingering and studying the\n bone I had to see to that afternoon. I was deeply thankful, but\n amidst all my gratitude the thing seemed so comical that I could\n not help smiling, and a keen young Chinaman in the crowd remarked,\n in an under tone, \"That smile means something.\" So it did. It\n meant, among other things, that I knew what to do with the wounded\n soldier's damaged bone; and in a short time his wound was in a fair\n way of healing. I was and am very thankful; but, after all, I am\n more impressed than ever with the fact that things are badly out of\n joint when there are lots of Christian doctors at home, and abroad\n too, and I, knowledgeless, am left to do the doctoring in a large\n district like this quite beyond the reach of medical help, not only\n for the natives but even for myself should I need it.\n\n 'A grim commentary on these wounds was the fact that in leaving\n Ch'ao Yang I was to pass through a brigand-infested district--so\n badly infested that travellers have abandoned the road. As saith\n the Scripture, \"The highways were unoccupied, and the travellers\n walked through byways.\" I had avoided this road twice, and was\n ashamed to avoid it again, so we went straight through it. We saw\n no one to harm us, but a week ago it was just as likely that I\n should to-day have been lying on a Chinese kang, trying to dress my\n own wounds, as that I should have been sitting here writing to you.\n\n 'I am at present waiting for Dr. Smith, whose last word to me,\n dated Tientsin, April 9, was that I should either see him or hear\n from him here between June 6 and 12.\n\n 'Yesterday, Sunday, June 8, had a pleasant day. The three\n Christians here have grown. Two of them have been through a good\n deal of trouble and stood it well. The farmer, who has been very\n ill, guessing we would be here, came in and spent the day with us.\n They seem very earnest.'\n\nThe beneficial result of the home visit of 1889 was very evident at this\ntime. It had arrested the 'running down,' from which he had severely\nsuffered. It had enabled him to renew old friendships, and to form new\nones. His wholehearted devotion to the difficult work of his life and\nthe wonderful intensity and depth of his faith had touched the hearts of\nmany faithful men and women at home, who gladly responded to his\noft-repeated request, 'Pray for me and for the conversion of the Chinese\nand the Mongols.' He renewed his interest in the broad current of the\nworld's life. We have seen how some years previously he gave up all\nreading but the Bible. Now, while he studied the Bible with all his old\neagerness, he had various newspapers sent to him, he rejoiced in the\nreceipt of books sent by friends--especially those bearing upon the\nculture of the soul--and he kept his eye upon the religious and social\nmovements of the day.\n\nThe selections from his correspondence which follow illustrate these\nchanges in him. He modified his mode of life in Mongolia. Having given\nup vegetarianism on his homeward voyage he did not resume it upon his\nre-entrance on Mongol life. He remained a total abstainer, and his\nhatred of opium, whisky, and tobacco continued as strong as ever,\nalthough he did not now make abstinence from the two latter a test of\nChurch membership. He reserved more of the Sunday as a day of rest,\ntaking only the religious services with the Christians and inquirers,\nand not, as formerly, setting up his tent on the street. The old\ncareworn look disappeared, his form regained much of its former life and\nspring, and his face filled out, his smile resumed the brightness of\nold, and the voice came back to a good deal of its early clearness. All\nthese evidences of a change for the better served to augur many years of\nhappy work. In a letter to a friend he playfully alludes to the twenty\nor thirty years of labour yet remaining, and he often--half in jest and\nhalf in earnest--asserted that life in the interior was so healthy that\nhe should probably outlive his fellow-workers at Tientsin and Peking.\n\nBy the mail that conveyed the letter quoted on page 263 he also wrote to\nan Edinburgh friend:--\n\n 'Do you know Adolphe Monod's _Farewell_? It was sent to me lately\n by Rev. C. New, of Hastings, an old Cheshunt fellow-student. I have\n enjoyed it all, but most, I think, chapter xii., \"Of Things not\n seen.\" A volume of sermons, entitled _The Baptism of the Spirit,\n and other Sermons_, by Mr. New, I have enjoyed intensely. To the\n meek child-like spirit desiring the sincere nourishing of the Word\n nothing, I think, could be more helpful.... If ever you send a book\n to the boys, let it be one that will do their souls good.\n\n 'I may be filling my life too full, but between medical work and\n spiritual work I have barely time to sleep, and I find that, for\n any hope of continuance of work, I must have time to sleep. For the\n last month I have been getting up at 4.30 A.M., and our evening\n worship and after conversation was not over till, say, 9 or 9.15\n or 9.30, or even, once or twice, till 10 P.M. Then it would take us\n some time to square up the day's affairs, and spread out my\n bedding. In the daytime I used to bolt my door, determined on an\n hour's quiet; but often this was in vain. I would hear some poor\n cultivator come for medicine; he had a long way to go home, and I\n could not but let him in and attend to him.\n\n 'Yesterday, as no one knew we were here, I escaped at 5.30 and made\n for the hot springs, twelve miles away. I walked there and back,\n and in consequence to-day am lame on my feet--badly blistered. I\n had a grand day--so quiet. Going, I sat down behind a mud wall and\n read the four first chapters of Hebrews. Arrived, I had my bath,\n then got an empty room in an inn, had sleep, dinner, tea, and read\n the rest of Hebrews. I never saw so much in Hebrews before.... On\n the road I had a four-mile conversation with a farmer, who finally\n said he believed Christianity was true. We have baptized six in all\n since I returned, five adults and one child--_all Chinese_. \"Be not\n weary in well-doing. In due time we shall reap, if we faint not.\"\n We are on God's side. God has need of us. Oh let us be such as God\n can take pleasure in! Faithfulness and love to Him are what He\n wants. Surely we can let Him have these two. Oh that it might be\n that everyone in every contact with us might feel the spiritual\n touch! Would not this be ideal Christian life? May He work it in\n us!\n\n 'Have you been to any Salvation Army efforts? I always felt better\n for going, but latterly did not go much--I could not stand the\n \"row.\" I am eager that you should identify yourself with some\n soul-saving agency. If it really is a soul-saving concern, I don't\n think it matters very much what it is.'\n\nOn July 21, 1890, he wrote to the same friend:--\n\n 'Since July 3 we have had most extraordinary weather for this\n part--rain and dull; there have been only four or five days when I\n could go on to the street with my tent. I am therefore not so busy.\n In addition, Dr. Smith has joined me, and as he does all the indoor\n medical work, I am still less busy, and so I can write you more at\n leisure than usual.\n\n 'The rain reached a climax on Saturday night, July 19. Till then,\n roofs and walls held out well. There were leaks in places, but\n nothing serious. We thought it had cleared off. Not a bit of it.\n The wind changed, it is true, but then rain came down in torrents,\n the ceilings--all reeds and paper--began to give way. Ever and anon\n splash came a bag of water, as the paper burst in different places,\n and Dr. Smith and I had a lively time of it shifting our boxes and\n bedding to dry spots. By dusk it was serious. I was just about my\n wits' end when a Chinaman put his head into my room, and said with\n a grin, half in jest, half in earnest, \"There is a tent standing\n idle out in that room, why not put it up in your room?\" The idea of\n putting up a tent in your bedroom seemed so absurd that we had a\n good laugh over it; but after thinking over it awhile, and thinking\n out how the thing could be done, we actually did it. It covered\n two-thirds of my kang, and a little space on the floor where I put\n my boxes. The inner corner of the tent I put up to cover my stock\n of books and medicines, lit my lamp, brewed a pot of tea, and,\n squatting on my feet, called in Dr. Smith. He said I looked \"just\n like an opium-smoker.\" Dr. Smith had a portable iron bedstead. On\n the top he put floor mats and a waterproof, and, without\n undressing, we went to bed. After a little a great crash was heard.\n Some part of the buildings had come down. In the rain and dark it\n was not easy to see what it was, but we at last found there had\n been more noise than real damage. We were thankful when day\n dawned.\n\n 'The Chinese suffered much more than we did. Such a rain happens so\n seldom--once in three or four or five years--that houses are not\n roofed to resist it; the Chinese deeming it cheaper to take the\n wetting than to spend the extra money it would take to make the\n house stand such an extra rain.\n\n 'In the wet weather I have been going into the Chinese Psalms, and\n have been much struck with the happy state of those who \"fear the\n Lord,\" \"trust in the Lord,\" and who, under a variety of\n expressions, are described as being on the Lord's side, and under\n His protection.\n\n 'And all these promises we can take for ourselves. Did you see in\n _The Christian_ some time ago a story from Annan, of an old woman\n who was on the point of being sold out for not paying her rent? She\n had no money. Her son was in America. A neighbour, thinking it\n strange that her son had not sent her money, asked to see her\n letters. There was one with a Post-office Order for 7_l._ 10_s._ in\n it. She had had it for some time, but thought it was only a\n picture. When cashed she was in funds. Wasn't she a stupid old\n woman? To be bankrupt, with an uncashed P.O. Order in her\n possession! How often we are much more stupid than she! To be\n fearful, anxious, troubled, cast down, when we have all the\n promises of God in our possession, ready for our use.\n\n 'Let us cash our cheques. Nay, we have not only God's promises, but\n God Himself for our portion. Why should we be spiritually bankrupt?\n\n 'Another thing I notice is the difference subjective states make in\n reading the Psalms. Sometimes I go over a Psalm and see little in\n it. At another time I go over the same Psalm and find it full of\n richness. How important it is to have the light of the Holy Spirit\n in our Scripture reading!'\n\n '_July 30._--The little _Wordless Book_ you sent soon fell into the\n hands of a Chinese convert, who asked to be allowed to carry it\n off. He wants to speak from it. He likes it because it gives him\n _carte blanche_, and lets him say just what he likes....\n\n 'How full the Psalms are! These days I am going through them in\n Chinese, as I said; I take one each morning and commit some verses\n of it carefully. Then, during the day, as time permits, I read a\n few more. How one the soul of man is! When dull and cold and dead,\n and feeling as if I could not pray, I turn to the Psalms. When most\n in the spirit, the Psalms meet almost all the needs of expression.\n And yet deluded men talk of the Bible as the outcome of the Jewish\n mind! The greatest proof of the Divine source of the book is that\n it fits the soul as well as a Chubb's key fits the lock it was made\n for.... Now I am off to the street with my tent.'\n\n\n 'Mongolia: July 28, 1890.\n\n 'My dear Meech,--Dr. Smith came here July 2. The rains set in\n immediately on his arrival, and we _have_ had it since. The\n spiritual rain has not come yet, nor are there any signs of it.\n When it does come may it come like the physical rain! Glad to see\n you have been having some. May you have much more! Make the valley\n full of ditches, brother, and then look out for the flood. Do you\n think we'll be able to go up to Him at last and say, \"We did our\n part, but you did not do yours, Lord\"? Eh, man! Elijah called down\n fire with a short prayer, but his servant made six vain journeys to\n the summit only to return with the discouraging news--nothing. May\n the good Lord, who knows our frame and remembers we are dust, give\n us a little now and again, at any rate, if only to keep us going\n meantime! Eh, man! there will be no lack on His part. He'll shine\n up all right, not only to perform, but to succour His servants who\n trust in Him.'\n\n\n 'July 28, 1890.\n\n 'My dear Owen,--I know worry should be an unknown element in a\n believer's experience. I am eager to have done with it. I thank Him\n for much of its absence. But dissatisfaction with the present state\n of things is not worry, but legitimate soul-longing, and the death\n of that would be a bad thing.\n\n 'I can hardly tell how I am; Since Dr. Smith came I have taken\n little note of inward things or outward either. It is very pleasant\n to have him here, and as the best sign of digestion is not to know\n one has a stomach or a digestion, is the best sign of spiritual\n health not to know one has a soul at all? I wonder is this so? His\n presence has made a difference. Duty has kept me living quietly in\n good lodgings, with only such work as I can easily do without any\n over-rush, and the prospect of another month like it! I fear I am\n not such company to him as he is to me.\n\n 'We have had terrible rains; the rivers were not crossed for five\n or six days, and, even after that, two men were swept away on two\n separate days--four men, in all, from this one town alone.\n\n 'I know you pray for us here. Eh, man! if the thing would move, if\n the rain would come! \"_As the eyes of servants_,\" etc. (Psalms\n cxxiii., cxxvi.). I often read these Psalms together. And then I\n think what would please me best as a master would be to see my\n servant going ahead, energetically, and faithfully, and loyally\n with his work, not moping about downcast. Then is not this what God\n wants in us? So here goes cheerily and trustfully.'\n\n\n 'August 10, 1890.\n\n 'I cannot say God gives me all the victories I want, but He keeps\n me in peace and faith, and that is not a little thing. My\n devotional reading lately has taken the form of the Chinese Psalms,\n and Schereschewsky's high Chinese notwithstanding (for which may he\n be forgiven), they are very refreshing and strong. How like are the\n heart-longings and soul-breathings of the old Judean hunted\n outlaw--brigand, if you like to call him so--to the heart and soul\n feelings of the educated Occidental of the nineteenth century! Poor\n old Moses, another outlaw, what a battered old life he led, but\n what a grand soul, and how wonderfully he outlived it all, and was\n quite hale when called to die! How his people troubled him!--so\n like the Chinese. Fancy Moses going up the mountain to die alone.\n It is so nice to have a later glimpse of him in the New Testament\n alongside of Elijah, who too was once under a cloud. God does not\n keep up things. \"As far as the east is from the west, so far hath\n He removed our transgressions from us.\" Love to all.\n\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\n 'Ch'ao Yang, August 19, 1890.\n\n 'My dear Sons,--I have just got here after a very hard journey of\n four days. It is summer and the rains are on; the roads are very\n bad.\n\n 'Our first adventure was in a deep narrow gully going up a\n mountain. We met a cart coming down. There was no room to pass and\n no room to turn back. What were we to do? One of the carts had to\n be pulled up the bank. Neither would go up. Both carters sat and\n looked at each other. Our cart was heavy, the other cart was light.\n After looking at each other awhile the other cart was pulled up and\n our carter helped him down again after we had passed.\n\n 'Our next adventure was in a river. The leading mule sank in a\n quicksand. The carter, shoes and all, jumped into the water; in a\n few seconds I had stripped all but a cinglet and pants, and was in\n the river too. We got out after a little while.\n\n 'Next day we stuck in a quagmire. We hitched the mules to the tail\n of the cart, pulled it out, then dug a new road in the side of the\n ravine and got past.\n\n 'The third day we upset our cart in a very muddy place early in the\n morning, and got caught in a thunder-shower in the afternoon. The\n fourth day we stuck in a mud-hole half a mile from the end of our\n journey, and when we got to our inn found our rooms in possession\n of a crowd of people doing a wedding.\n\n 'One thing made the journey very pleasant: it was this. Just as we\n were starting, one of the Christians, a Chinese farmer, but a man\n who is poor and dresses and eats very poorly, came and gave me two\n tiao, about 3_s._ 2_d._, to give to God. I was so glad to see him\n do it, and no doubt God was glad too. Then at the end of the\n journey, when we were stuck in the mud-hole and could not get out,\n up came one of the Christians, took off his stockings and shoes,\n went into the mud and helped us out. The country was very beautiful\n all the way--just at its best.'\n\nIn a letter to another correspondent he depicts what is involved in\nChinese travelling during the wet season:--\n\n 'The last thing we had to do was to make a journey of eighty miles.\n You would soon do that in England. Here, in August, it is no easy\n matter. It is just the time when, on account of the rains, no one\n should travel, and no one does travel who can help it. Carts would\n not go. I had to find my way home from a cart inn the night before\n we started along a newly rained-on muddy Chinese street in the\n dark. Next day I had much brightness shed on the journey by one of\n the Chinese Christians--a poor man with, oh, so poor a\n coat--giving a donation to print Christian books. It amounted to\n about $1.00 (one dollar) in all, but it meant a lot of self-denial\n to him; and as I passed, a little later, the drought-parched\n district where he lived, and looked at the poor fields, I wondered\n where he got the money. I suppose God gave him the heart to give\n it. Starting a journey with such a bit of light made it cheery.\n\n 'We travelled at those eighty miles four days, and rested one\n Sabbath, five days in all. Within three-quarters of a mile of the\n end of our journey our cart stuck in a mud-hole. We had passed,\n shortly before, the cottage of a Christian, and, after we had been\n some half-hour or more in that hole, this Christian suddenly\n appeared on the scene. He is a great fellow for being neat and\n clean. In a few moments he was in the mud, ordering about the\n carter, shouting at the mules, and lifting at the stern of the\n cart. Even the mules felt there was some new factor added to the\n problem. They made a new effort and out the cart came. Would you\n credit it? A cart had been upset there some days before; it was\n said they had lost some thirty shillings in silver. The natives,\n hoping to find the money, literally dug up the highway and left a\n pit there. We did not know this, thought it was an ordinary pool,\n and drove straight into it. The Christian touch at the beginning of\n the journey, and the little Christian adventure at the end, made\n the journey and its remembrance quite pleasant.\n\n 'I am now reading Moule's _Veni Creator_, which came a few days\n ago. What helps me most just at present is the Psalms. I take a few\n verses every morning (almost), and learn off the Chinese\n translations of them. I never knew there was so much in the Psalms\n before. I believe that even at the end of a long life, this\n (discovery of more and more in God's Word) will hold true of all\n the Bible, and then for the beyond there is the Inexhaustible\n Himself--satisfaction for the present and plenty for the future.\n\n 'The endless sorrows and sufferings of this people here come home\n much to me. I see much of their bodily suffering, and in some\n feeble measure bear their sorrows and carry their griefs without\n being able to relieve them much. How dead and dark they are to\n things spiritual!'\n\nDr. Smith, who spent some weeks with Mr. Gilmour during this summer, has\nsent the following most interesting sketch of his daily life at this\nperiod. They were together for the most part at T\u00b7 Ss[)u] Kou.\n\n 'He always got up at daylight, folded up bedding, and then began\n reading. About six a man arrived, selling hot millet and bean\n porridge. He bought two bowls of this for early breakfast. He\n continued reading Chinese, generally aloud; and when he came to a\n difficult word he repeated it again and again, in order to impress\n it upon his memory. About eight he had breakfast, consisting of\n Chinese rolls and a cup of cocoa.\n\n 'At nine he went to the street with his tent, Mr. Liu, the native\n preacher, accompanying him. One of the inn-servants assisted the\n latter in carrying tent and medicine boxes and in erecting same.\n The tent was erected in a broad street at the back of our inn,\n where a daily market was held. The medicine boxes were placed on a\n little table, in front of which stood a wooden form and another at\n the side. The patients were seated on these. Any difficult cases\n were sent to the inn to be treated by me. On the table were also a\n number of copies of various tracts and portions of Scripture. Mr.\n Gilmour dispensed medicines, talked and preached as the opportunity\n offered.\n\n 'About one he returned to the inn, and had dinner, consisting of\n meat, etc., which was bought at a Chinese cook-shop. About three\n we generally took a walk to the country. We used to go out to look\n at the various crops, and Mr. Gilmour would chat away to one and\n another whom we met on the road. He was generally recognised, and\n in the most friendly way. I have a very pleasant recollection of\n these times; often our conversation would turn to home, to our boys\n and friends. Sometimes he would tell me about his student friends,\n while at other times he used to tell me of his deputation work at\n home, and about the various people he had met there.\n\n 'Often a gentleman would come up and ask, \"Where are you going?\" to\n which Mr. Gilmour would reply, \"We are cooling ourselves; we are\n going nowhere.\" It was always a mystery to people what we could\n possibly mean by taking walks to the country. One day two lads\n followed us for some miles across some low hills, anxious to know\n our business, and getting well laughed at by their friends, poor\n fellows, on their return to the town.\n\n 'One thing about Mr. Gilmour always impressed me deeply--his\n wonderful knowledge of the little touches of Chinese politeness,\n and his wonderful power of observation. He loved the\n Chinese--looked upon them and treated them as brothers, and was a\n man who lived much in prayer; and in this lay his great power as a\n missionary.\n\n 'When he met a Mongol he would exchange a few words of Mongol with\n him, and it was wonderful to see the man's face light up as he\n heard his own tongue. All the Mongols knew that he could speak\n their language, and as one of the few who did.\n\n 'As we returned to the town and were walking along the street, many\n of the passers-by would bow; and here and there a shopkeeper would\n give him a friendly bow. Sometimes he would buy a few peaches or\n apples, and not unfrequently he would give a sweetmeat vendor two\n cash for two sweets, handing one to me.\n\n 'About half-past four we returned to the inn, and then, as a rule,\n some people would be there waiting to see him. Mr. Sun, the\n box-maker, used often to come to read the Scriptures with Mr.\n Gilmour, and then they would discuss various points; Mr. Sun giving\n his opinion, and then Mr. Gilmour putting him right. Sometimes an\n outsider would drop in, and then, not unfrequently, Mr. Sun would\n talk to him about the Gospel.\n\n 'About six Mr. Gilmour had some cocoa and bread. At the time of the\n lighting of the candles Mr. Gilmour had made it a rule for the\n Christians to assemble for evening prayers, and, accordingly, they\n all turned up then. A Chinese table was placed in the centre of Mr.\n Gilmour's room, and three wooden forms were placed round the table\n for the accommodation of the preacher and the Christians. Mr.\n Gilmour and I used to sit on chairs at the vacant side of the\n table. On the table stood two Chinese candlesticks, each surmounted\n by a Chinese candle. A Chinese candle is made from the castor bean,\n and is fixed to the candlestick by running the iron pin on the\n latter into a hollow straw in the end of the candle. Then we also\n had a Chinese oil lamp. The upper vessel is simply a little\n earthenware saucer, containing a little oil, and in it lie some\n threads of cotton (a cotton wick). This is made to project over the\n edge of the saucer and is then lighted. The lower part of the lamp\n is simply an earthenware receptacle, in which the oil for\n replenishing the lamp is kept, and, while in use, the little lamp\n is supported in it. This often used to remind me of the parable of\n the virgins, and in reading that parable by the light of such a\n lamp one is able to make it very realistic to Chinamen.\n\n 'Our evening worship consisted in first singing a hymn, Mr. Gilmour\n leading. Then Mr. Gilmour offered up a short prayer; after which we\n read a chapter either in the Old or New Testament, reading verse\n about. Each man had a copy of the Scriptures. Then Mr. Gilmour\n gave a little address on the chapter; after which we had another\n prayer--one of the Christians being asked this time. Then another\n hymn and the benediction.\n\n 'Usually one or more of the Christians would remain chatting with\n Mr. Gilmour. As soon as they had gone we had a cup of cocoa\n together. Then Mr. Gilmour and I used to have evening prayers\n together. He used to read a chapter from a little book by Mr.\n Moule, and then we both prayed.\n\n 'After this we used to sit chatting together until bedtime, and so\n ended a day.'\n\nIn August 1890 Dr. Smith lost his wife, who as Miss Philip had become\nknown and beloved by a large number of friends of the London Missionary\nSociety, both in Great Britain and Australia. He had also become so ill\nthat the ensuing weakness, together with the great shock of his wife's\nsudden loss, compelled him, early in 1891, to return to England on a\nvisit. Before doing so he was able to take Mr. Parker, the young and\nactive colleague appointed to assist Mr. Gilmour, out to Mongolia,\nreaching T\u00b7 Ss[)u] Kou on December 5. Greatly encouraged by the arrival\nof his young helper, Mr. Gilmour was grievously disappointed by the\nenforced return of Dr. Smith, and the indefinite postponement of the\nhospital scheme that was so near to his heart, and upon which he always\nasserted, in his judgment, the ultimate success of the mission depended.\nBut discipline of this kind only drove him back more entirely upon God.\nIn a letter to Mr. Owen, dated December 29, 1890, he writes:--\n\n About myself I have lots to be thankful for. I am mostly in the\n light, sometimes very sweetly. Sometimes, though, it is cold and\n dark; but I just hold on, and it is all right. Romans viii. I find\n good reading in dull spiritual weather, and the Psalms too are\n useful. When I feel I cannot make headway in devotion, I open at\n the Psalms and push out in my canoe, and let myself be carried\n along in the stream of devotion which flows through the whole book.\n The current always sets towards God, and in most places is strong\n and deep. These old men--eh, man! they beat us hollow, with all our\n New Testament and all our devotional aids and manuals. And yet I\n don't know. In the old time there were giants--one here and there.\n Now there are many nameless but efficient men of only ordinary\n stature.\n\n 'Brother, let us be faithful. That is what God wants. What He\n needs. What He can use. I was greatly struck by one saying of Mrs.\n Booth's. It will not be so very different there (in heaven) to what\n it is here. I guess she is right. I guess there will be differences\n of occupation there as here, and I guess that our life here is a\n training for life and work there. Oh the mystery! How thin a wall\n divides it from us! How well the secret has been kept from of old\n till now! May the richest blessings be on you and yours and your\n work!\n\n 'Yours affectionately,\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\nThe year 1891 found Mr. Gilmour hard at work as usual, in good health\nand spirits, and with the hope and apparently the prospect of many years\nof service before him. And yet, just as the summer was beginning, he was\ncalled to the presence of the King, and to the perfect work and\nfellowship of 'the Church of the firstborn.' Had he been able to choose\nhis fate he would hardly have wished it other than it was. His work in\nMongolia was steadily growing; slowly, it is true, but yet gaining a\nstrength and impetus that will abide, and has well begun the conquest of\nMongolia for Christ. Though practically without a medical colleague, and\nactually without the hospital for which he had so toiled and prayed, he\nwas cheered and strengthened by the constant presence and fellowship of\nMr. Parker. His letters are all in a cheery and buoyant strain, and,\nalthough referring not unfrequently to the future life, without a hint\nor a suspicion that he was in any degree conscious of the rapid way in\nwhich the days of his earthly life were running out. In a letter to Mr.\nThompson, dated January 7, he says, 'You will be glad to hear I am in\ngood health and spirits.'\n\n\nTo Mr. Owen he wrote on March 2:--\n\n 'Does God not mean to have a medical man here? I wonder! Wondering,\n I tell Him as I tell you, and try to leave it with Him, and in very\n great part _do_ leave it to Him too. It is good to have His calm\n mercy and help. How's your soul, brother? I'll tell you how mine\n is--eager to experience more of the Almighty power inworking\n inside. Eager to be more transformed. Less conformed to the world.\n Eager to touch God more, and have Him touch me more, so that I can\n feel His touch.\n\n 'I am distressed at so few conversions here. But again sometimes\n very fully satisfied in believing I am trying to do His will. That\n makes me calm. I am scared at our property venture, but again trust\n in God, and the fears subside. The world to come, too, sometimes\n looms up clear as not far distant, and the light that shines from\n that makes things seem different a good deal.'\n\nFrom other letters that remain we catch glimpses of the course of his\naction and thought during these last weeks. During the year 1869 he met\nin Edinburgh Mrs. Swan, the widow of one of the pioneers of the Mongol\nMission of 1817 to 1841, and that interview gave the chief direction to\nthe work of his life. In March 1891 he heard of Mrs. Swan's death, and\nhe wrote to Miss Cullen, her niece, the following letter:--\n\n 'I sent you a post-card acknowledging receipt of your kind letter\n of December 10, saying that Mrs. Swan had passed away on November\n 22. I had not heard, and just then I had not time to write. I am\n now at the east end of my district, three days' journey from where\n the mail reached me.\n\n 'I am much moved to think that letter to me was her last. And there\n is a fitness that it should be so. \"Baptized for the dead,\" as the\n phrase is. In some sense I am successor to her work, and it was not\n out of keeping that her last letter should have been to the field\n which all along had such a large place and keen interest in her\n heart, where so many more good works found a place. I often think\n of all the kindness and friendship I have experienced at her hands,\n both on my visits to Edinburgh and through letters. Missionaries\n miss such lives much when they are removed. I need not speak to\n you, who knew her so well, of what a charming hostess she made, and\n of how, even in her old age, all her great and abiding earnestness\n had running through it all so much happy Scotch humour.\n\n 'I had no idea Mrs. Swan was so old. Eighty-one, she did not look\n old except about the last time I saw her, and then I had no idea\n her age was so great. She has gone; but for many years to come, if\n I am spared, I shall from time to time revisit her in her house in\n Edinburgh, and see her at the table with the quiet Jane moving\n noiselessly around, or see her seated at her desk in the corner,\n writing letters. Remember me very kindly to your father--fit\n brother for such a sister. Their separation cannot be very long at\n the longest. For that matter of it, those of us who are here\n longest must soon be gone, and when the going comes, or looms\n before us, let us look not at the going, but at the being _there_.'\n\nHaving paid considerable attention to the work and methods of the\nSalvation Army, the publication of _In Darkest England_ interested him\ngreatly, and on March 9 he sent in a letter the following trenchant\ncriticism, all the more noteworthy because of his strong sympathy with\nmuch in the Army that others find it hard to accept.\n\n 'Got here Saturday. Had a good Sunday with the Christians. To-day\n it snowed, and thus we have had time to put our house in order. I\n have read Booth's scheme in the _Review of Reviews_. I am greatly\n puzzled. It is _so_ far a departure from Booth's principle of doing\n spiritual work only. It reads well, but Booth must know just as\n well as I do that much of the theory will never work in practice.\n What I dislike most in it is, it is in spiritual things doing\n exactly what it attempts to do in secular things--namely, it\n threatens to swallow up in a great holy syndicate no end of smaller\n charities which have been and are working efficiently. Again, the\n finally impenitent are to be cast off. Yes, that is just the rub.\n It will leave the good-for-nothings, many of them cast out as\n before. Nor will Booth's despotism do in the long run. But I am for\n the scheme and for old Booth too; but, nevertheless, there is both\n a limit and an end to all despotism and despotisms. But I am more\n favourable to the scheme than these words would seem to indicate.'\n\nMr. Parker, who bids fair to be a successor after Gilmour's own heart,\nin his first report of his experiences in Mongolia gave a bright and\nhopeful view of his colleague.\n\n 'On arriving at T\u00b7 Ss[)u] Kou we found Gilmour very well indeed;\n looking better than he did when I saw him in England. He was\n jubilant over our coming, and it has been a great source of\n happiness to me to know that God's sending me here has up till now\n given happiness and comfort to one of His faithful servants. I have\n had a slight taste of being left alone, and I must confess Gilmour\n has had something to endure during the last few years.\n\n 'We are living in hired rooms of an inn. Gilmour is not in this\n courtyard. I have been alone here with my Chinese boy for the last\n five weeks (Dr. Smith being in Ch'ao Yang until a few days ago). I\n have been unable to get a proper teacher at present. Gilmour's\n student has been teaching me. He speaks distinctly. With him I have\n made very fair progress. I hope in a few days to secure a proper\n teacher.\n\n 'Another thing which has taught me a good amount of the Chinese I\n know is having to give orders to my Chinese boy in house-keeping\n generally. I am thankful to God for past experiences in my life,\n though they were rather rough; for here I find they come in very\n usefully. I had to teach my boy how to cook and do things\n generally. It was rather an amusing piece of work, seeing that I\n knew nothing of the language. Each order I gave him was a comedy in\n two or three acts, all played out in dumb show. In telling him what\n I wished purchased I was obliged to imitate sounds which are\n peculiar to certain beasts and birds, which when he understood, he\n announced that fact by opening wide his eyes and emitting a loud\n \"Ah!\" which was generally followed by the name of the thing\n indicated bellowed forth at the top of his voice as if I were\n deaf. Also he in turn, when he had anything to tell me, always\n stood in the centre of the room and went through a whole\n performance. On one occasion, when he wished to tell me that a\n certain dog had stolen the day's meat, the performance was so\n amusing that, when he had got through, I asked him what he was\n trying to say, in order that I might once more see the fun.\n\n 'Forgive me for taking up your time with such frivolous things. But\n I have picked up much of the language in that way, although at the\n cost of being grimed with soot and burning my fingers. All that is\n now past, and the boy is very useful, and, although now a heathen,\n I am hoping that by my influence he may be led to know the love of\n Jesus Christ. I am very glad that I came straight out here. I am\n sure I shall learn the language (of the _people_, perhaps _not_ of\n the _books_) better than in the frontier cities. I am constantly\n forced to try and speak. Every day I have some visitors here whom I\n must try and entertain. I feel stupid at times with them, and\n perhaps they think I am; but, nevertheless, each day's experience\n is adding to my vocabulary. And when so learnt, I know that people\n will understand me when I speak.\n\n 'Gilmour is doing a valuable work. Every day he goes to the street\n and sets out his table with his boxes of medicines and books. He\n has three narrow benches, on one of which he sits, the other two\n being for his patients. Of the latter he has any amount, coming\n with all the ills to which humanity is heir. It is a busy street,\n not of the best repute, for it is where all the traders in\n second-hand clothes and dealers in marine stores spread out their\n wares.\n\n 'For some weeks I went out at a certain hour to take care of\n Gilmour's stand while he went and got a \"refresher\" in the shape of\n some indigestible pudding made of millet-flour with beans for\n plums. He generally left me with a patient or two requiring some\n lotion in the eye or some wound to dress. Then I, being a\n new-comer and a typical \"foreign devil\" (being red of hair and in\n complexion), always brought a large following down the street with\n me, and attracted a great crowd round the stand. At first it was\n not pleasant to sit there and be stared at without being able to\n speak to them; but after a while I got very interested in the\n different faces that came round. On one occasion I noticed the\n crowd eagerly discussing something among themselves, giving me a\n scrutinising look now and then. Now and again one would turn to his\n fellow and rub his finger across his upper lip as if he was feeling\n for his moustache. I had only been here a week or so then, and knew\n very little of the language; but I listened attentively, and at\n last I heard them speaking the Chinese numerals, and then it all\n dawned upon me that they were inquiring about and discussing my\n age; so I up with my fingers indicating the years of my pilgrimage.\n I never saw a crowd so amused. \"Ah, ah!\" they said, and opened\n their eyes, highly delighted that I was able to tell them what they\n wanted to know. Then I had my turn, and, pointing to a man here and\n there in the crowd, I used what little of Chinese I had in guessing\n their ages.\n\n 'But the sights of misery, suffering, and wretchedness which gather\n round Gilmour's stand are simply appalling. His work seems to me to\n come nearest to Christ's own way of blessing men. Healing them of\n their wounds, giving comfort in sickness, and at the same time\n telling them the gospel of Eternal Salvation through Jesus Christ.\n One day that I went I found Gilmour tying a bandage on a poor\n beggar's knee. The beggar was a boy about sixteen years of age,\n entirely naked, with the exception of a piece of sacking for a loin\n cloth. He had been creeping about, almost frozen with cold, and a\n dog (who, no doubt, thought he was simply an animated bone) had\n attacked him.\n\n 'The people here are desperately poor, and the misery and\n suffering one sees crawling through the streets every day is\n heart-rending. I have not a doubt that I am in a real mission\n field, and thank God that He has given me the opportunity to do\n something towards alleviating some of this misery. But what about\n the work as regards the saving of souls and establishing of a\n Church? I can only speak of the work in T\u00b7 Ss[)u] Kou. It is in its\n initiatory stage. All the Christians and adherents can sit round\n the four sides of my table. But I am highly pleased with them.'\n\nThe letters of this period have a very tender and sacred association for\nall who received them, since they reached England after the telegraphic\ntidings of James Gilmour's death had brought sorrow to his many friends.\nThey came, in a sense, like a message from one 'within the veil.' Some\nof these refer to the books he was reading, and from which he had\nderived benefit; some depict phases of his experience; some bear\ndirectly upon his work and its needs; all possess the solemn value and\nare read in the clearer light imparted to them by Death.\n\nThe first was written to one of his brothers.\n\n 'Do you know _In the Volume of the Book_, by Dr. Pentecost? It is A\n 1. I have just read it. It is not a dear book. Read it, man, by all\n means. It gives zest to the old Bible. I am reading through the New\n Testament at about the rate of a gospel a day, or two epistles.\n Rapid reading has advantages. Close study of minute portions has\n other advantages. All sorts of reading are valuable. Go for your\n Bible, brother. There is no end more in it than ever you or I have\n yet seen. I am going for it both in Chinese and English, and it\n pays as nothing else does. In Jesus is all _fulness_. Supply\n yourself from Him. May the richest blessings be on you from Him!\n Heaven's ahead, brother. Hurrah!'\n\nThe next was to the Edinburgh correspondent from whose letters we have\npreviously taken extracts.\n\n 'This mail was sent off February 2. It came back the same day. The\n man was scared by robbers. He leaves to-morrow. We are well. We are\n _idle_. Would you believe it? It is Chinese New Year time, and I\n cannot go on the street with my stand. No people: soon will be. We\n are thankful for the rest. It won't last long.... Oh, it is good to\n have Jesus to tell all to. May He be more of an intimate friend to\n you and to me! The troubles of this earthly life are not few. How\n many were Paul's! I am reading Farrar's _Life and Work of Paul_. It\n puts much new light on the epistles. What a time the man Paul had\n of it! Yet he called them \"light afflictions.\" How much lighter are\n ours! And the same heaven he looked to is for us--the same\n crown--not to him only, but to all who love the appearing of\n Christ. You love Him. Rejoice and be glad. I _am_ so glad that the\n crown is not only for such as Paul, whom we cannot hope to imitate,\n but for those (ii. Timothy iv. 8) who have loved His appearing. We\n _do_ that, don't we? May the joy set before us enable us to endure,\n when endurance is needed! May your heart rest in Him! May your soul\n cling to Him! May His light always shine on your path! May I\n always, even in dark days and dark times, have His light in my\n heart and soul! Don't regard me as one always on the sunny heights,\n but as one often cast down, often in much feebleness, in much\n unworthiness, and falling so far short of my own ideal. But it is\n good to think that, in Christ, we are perfect, that He makes up\n all.\n\n 'Parker and I read _Holy of Holies_, when together. It is a good\n book. Meantime, he and I are three days' journey separate, and may\n be so for a month to come yet. I hope he likes it. It is a little\n hard on him, but I had to come here on mission business, and, if\n needed, will return to him at any time. Looking again at Heb. vi.\n 4-6.'\n\nHis correspondent had asked him about this passage.\n\n 'It is said--it is impossible to \"renew them again to repentance.\"\n Does it not seem clear that what is described cannot be the case of\n one who has the repentant heart? I think so decidedly, and that\n passage has no bearing on the sinner who repents.... No one will\n come to harm who commits himself to His keeping. And no one will\n lack leading who has God for his guide. If I could only hear of or\n from the friends I pray for, that they had given themselves over to\n God's keeping, I would be at rest and thankful. You are trusting in\n Him. You will not be ashamed. He will take care to supply every\n needed blessing at the right time and in the right way.\n\n 'Some day, I believe we shall stand in Eternity and look back on\n Time. How ashamed we then shall be of any want of trust and of any\n unfaithfulness! May He help us to look at things now in _that_\n light, and how to do as we then shall wish we had done!...\n\n 'I would be glad if you would send me half a dozen copies of the\n _Wordless Book_. Two copies fell into the hands of robbers and were\n thus lost....\n\n 'I shall be glad to have the _Life of Faith_. You might mark any\n passages that strike you.'\n\nIn a letter to the Rev. J. Paterson, dated April 1, he writes:--\n\n 'It helps me much out here to get the best consecrated literature,\n and to get it early. Men in the most difficult and dangerous fields\n should be the best armed and equipped. Some of these books open up\n new treasures to me in God's Word. I do not use them in place of\n God's Word, but as openers to the treasures.'\n\nIn almost the last letter from him received by his brother Alexander and\ndated April 24, 1891, the following passage occurs:--\n\n '_The Practice of the Presence of God_, being conversations and\n letters of Brother Lawrence. Please send a copy to yourself, John,\n Matthew, Paterson, Miss Gowan, and ten copies to me, charging all\n costs to me, of course. It is by a Roman Catholic: don't imitate\n his Roman Catholicism, but his practice of the presence of God.'\n\nIn April Mr. Gilmour journeyed to Tientsin, and was unanimously elected\nto preside over the annual meeting of the North China District Committee\nof the London Missionary Society as chairman. His last communication to\nthe home Society, with the exception of one brief note upon a matter of\ncommittee business, was a post-card, dated April 20, 1891, received in\nLondon some weeks after the tidings of his death. It runs:--\n\n 'Arrived here yesterday. The world keeps shrinking. Left T\u00b7 Ss[)u]\n Kou Monday 8 A.M. Tuesday noon dined in a border Mongol village, in\n a Mongol's inn, served by a Mongol waiter, in presence of a number\n of Mongols. Got to London Missionary Society's Compound, Tientsin,\n Saturday, 5 P.M. Our headquarters are just five days from the\n extended railway. Am in A 1 health, everybody says so here, and\n that truly. Meantime am in clover, physically and spiritually. With\n prayers for the home end of the London Missionary Society's work.\n\n 'Yours truly,\n 'J. GILMOUR.'\n\n\nJust thirty-one days later he was lying dead in the same compound. How\nthe interval passed is told by those who enjoyed those closing days of\nlofty spiritual fellowship. Had it been foreseen that the end was so\nnear, the fervour and impressiveness and help of his presence could\nhardly have been increased. Before, however, passing to the details of\nthis last month, the following letters are given _in extenso_ as they\nform the last lengthy sketches of his work drawn by his own hand.\n\n\n 'Tientsin, L.M.S.: April 20, 1891.\n\n My dear Mrs. Lovett,--I guess you are at the bottom of 10_l._ from\n Clapham Congregational Church Working Society (Ladies). Ar'n't you?\n If so, thanks. If not--I was going to say you ought to be--but my\n courage fails me. Anyhow, you can read and please forward the\n enclosed with my best thanks to the friends. I got here two days\n ago, and am here for a short time. The railway has gone out\n eastwards, is still going, and has now a station near me in\n Mongolia--near me being five long days' journey; but that is near,\n as near and far go here.\n\n 'I have many grateful and many prayerful remembrances of England\n and English friends, and a vivid remembrance of your kindness when\n I was with you. My regards to your parents. I hope you and your\n husband and children are all well. I heard of Mr. Lovett being in\n America--_American Pictures_ on the stocks?\n\n 'I had intended to write you a nice letter, but it won't come, and\n the letter must go as it is. Please read into the remaining blank\n sheet all the feelings and good wishes I should express and do\n feel, and next time I write you, may it not be in the ebb tide, at\n the end of a mail.\n\n 'Your husband's a Director. I _do_ hope they are sending me a\n doctor. If he can do anything in the matter, I wish he would.\n\n 'Yours, dried up and feeling dumb,\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\nEnclosed in the above was the following letter, dated March 10, and\naddressed to 'The Clapham Congregational Church Ladies' Working\nSociety.'\n\n 'Dear Friends,--Many thanks for your handsome donation (10_l._),\n notice of which has reached me last night. I am told you want to\n hear from me. All right. I am just back from a month's raid into\n Ch'ao Yang. Had a fine time. Good weather and plenty of work in the\n marketplace. Baptized four adults, three being women--all Chinese.\n It is the day of small things truly, but I am not a little\n encouraged, over the women especially. That now makes four\n Christian families in Ch'ao Yang or its immediate neighbourhood.\n The two wives baptized this time have Christian husbands. It has\n all along been our prayer that the unsaved relatives of the saved\n might be saved.\n\n 'Mrs. Chu's husband was baptized a couple of years ago. She\n consented to his taking their two children to me to be baptized,\n but she herself would have nothing to do with Christianity or\n Christ. This time she got over her difficulties. I was much\n pleased, especially as she had annoyed her husband a good deal last\n year about his having been beaten about his Christianity. She also\n had her little child baptized. Pray that God may keep and help them\n in all the many complications that will arise on account of their\n Christianity, living as they do in a composite family, the ruling\n powers of which are heathen.\n\n 'Mrs. Ning is a model wife. They are poor. Her husband cannot dress\n in good clothes, but is always as neat as a virtuous wife, skilful\n with her needle, can make him. She mends so neatly. I once\n discarded a vest (Chinese) and gave it to her husband. He took it\n home, and later on I saw him swelling about in it quite like a neat\n old gentleman, though I was almost ashamed to give it him.\n\n 'They have had family worship in their home for a year or two--they\n say. We went to baptize her. It was such a small, poor house, but\n so very nice inside. Mother and grown daughters and little girl,\n with father and grown son, all sleep on a little brick platform,\n hardly big enough for me--one man. She and the grown daughter\n support the family by needlework--making horsehair women's head\n fittings, which the father sells, when he has nothing more to do.\n\n 'The son is epileptic and can earn nothing, and is, in addition, a\n great eater. He is a good man and a Christian. As we entered, the\n son and daughter went out. The mother and little daughter were\n baptized. The father did not wish his big daughter baptized. When\n she is married she will get a heathen mother-in-law, who will go\n for her and make her worship idols. So said the father. In a few\n days the father came back, saying that out of fear of the coming\n mother-in-law he had not had his daughter baptized, but that his\n daughter had pressed him so hard that she was as formidable as the\n mother-in-law. The daughter says she'll stick to her God and let\n them stick to theirs, and so she was baptized. She has a hot time\n before her. Chinese mothers-in-law are no joke. Pray for the lassie\n that:--(_a_) she may be steadfast; (_b_) she may be wise; (_c_) she\n may be gentle in her resistance; (_d_) enabled by God to endure;\n and that the mother-in-law may be restrained. God can do all\n things.\n\n 'Here, in T\u00b7 Ss[)u] Kou, two of the Christians have wives very\n much opposed to Christianity, and give their husbands hot times.\n Remember the husbands, please, and all such in their shoes, in\n prayer, and may the darkened women themselves be enlightened. You\n have no notion how deeply sunk in superstition the women are. Still\n another Christian has a wife whom he has to allow to worship a\n weasel, because the woman shows symptoms of being possessed by the\n beast if she does not worship it!\n\n 'The other day a woman came to my stand in the market-place, saying\n that \"Mr. Yellow\" troubled her. \"Mr. Yellow\" turned out to be the\n weasel, and she firmly believed her sickness was due to the beast.\n\n 'We are badly in want of a lady medical man in this district. Don't\n you know of one who would do? Are there none of you who could study\n medicine and go out as doctors to some of the many needy places?\n Much was hoped for this district from the late Mrs. Smith, but God\n took her. Any one who comes here should have good health, and not\n fear seclusion from foreign company. I would suggest that a couple\n should come, a medical and a non-medical. There is a house which\n could be got for such a couple, only I don't see how they could get\n on without knowing some Chinese. Perhaps some one of the Peking or\n Tientsin ladies already speaking Chinese would volunteer to be a\n medical lady's companion. Would that God would stir some of you up!\n Meantime, thanks for the money. Thanks also for the prayers which I\n take for granted you let us have. You might also pray for a woman\n who has a very good, quiet, Christian husband, but herself has such\n a temper that she cannot in decency take on a Christian profession.\n Eh, man! eh, man! it is curious that I, a widower, should be left\n to look after women's souls out here, when lots of women are\n competing for men's situations and businesses at home. I guess\n things will come right some day, though I may or may not see it.\n\n 'Very gratefully,\n 'Yours sincerely,\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\nOn May 8 he sent the following note to Mrs. Williams, the wife of the\nRev. Mark Williams of the American Board. Their Society happened to be\nholding its annual meeting at the same time in Tientsin as the London\nSociety. Mr. Gilmour was just entering his fatal illness as he penned\nthese lines, the last, we believe, that he wrote. They are a beautiful\ntestimony to the strength of his affection for the Mongols to whom he\nand his wife had ministered so well long before, and on whose behalf\nthey had suffered so much and so deeply. Standing as he was on the\nborderland of the heavenly country, he recalls the hard toil of his\nearly days, and he leaves to those who must carry on to a successful\nissue, not only his work, but also the great enterprise of winning all\nChina for Jesus Christ, this as a last legacy--the fruit of his prayer,\nhis faith, his toil and his utter self-sacrifice--namely, the conviction\nthat the need of China is 'good, honest, quiet, earnest, persistent work\nin old lines and ways.'\n\n\n 'Tientsin: May 8, Friday.\n\n 'My dear Mrs. Williams,--Thanks for returning the photos. Not\n having delivered them to you personally, I feared that in the\n present whirl of people and business they might have been mislaid,\n or even not reached you.\n\n 'It is a great pleasure to see you here at this time. Many memories\n of past times and days come up. Though never again likely to see\n Kalgan, I often in thought go along its narrow, hard streets, and\n its up and down sideways, call in at your house, see all your\n faces, even that of the youthful Stephen, and the studious Etta;\n and often go up over the Pass into the grass land.\n\n 'It is like a rest for a little while beside the palms and wells of\n Elim to meet you all here.\n\n 'Your peaceful, happy family fills me with gratitude to God. May He\n bless them all (your children), and lead them not only into paths\n of peace and pleasantness, but of useful service for Him! You and\n your husband seem well. May many useful years of ripely experienced\n labour be yours!\n\n 'Lately, I am being more and more impressed with the idea that what\n is wanted in China is not new \"lightning\" methods so much as good,\n honest, quiet, earnest, persistent work in old lines and ways.\n\n 'With many grateful memories of all old-time Kalgan kindness, and\n hoping to see a note from you, or Mr. Williams, say once a year or\n so, and with prayers for you and all Kalgan-wards Mongols,\n\n 'Yours, cheered by the vision of you all,\n 'JAMES GILMOUR.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nTHE LAST DAYS\n\n\nAt Tientsin James Gilmour was the guest of Dr. Roberts--for too brief a\ntime his colleague in Mongolia--and the doctor's sister, who kept house\nfor him. The story of the closing days cannot be better told than in\ntheir words. To Miss Roberts fell the sorrowful task of sending the news\nof their irreparable bereavement to the two motherless lads in England.\n\n\n 'Tientsin: June 6, 1891.\n\n 'My dear Willie and Jimmie,--You will wonder who I am that call you\n by your names and yet have never known you.\n\n 'But I think, when you hear that your dear father spent the last\n five weeks of his life with my brother, Dr. Roberts, and myself,\n perhaps you will not be sorry to get a few lines from an unknown\n friend. It is now many weeks since we received a letter from Mr.\n Gilmour saying he hoped to be able to attend the annual meetings in\n Tientsin, and who would take him in? My brother replied at once,\n saying what a real pleasure it would be if he would stay with us.\n And so he came, and about a fortnight before the time, of which we\n were all the more glad. He looked the very picture of health on his\n arrival, and was in excellent spirits; many remarked how very well\n and strong he looked.\n\n 'I remember well the day he arrived, it was a Saturday afternoon.\n I suggested that he should have some dinner at once, but,\n thoughtful-like, as your father always was, he said, \"No, thank\n you, I have already had all I want; I shall not require anything\n more till your next ordinary meal.\"\n\n 'By-and-by we showed him his room, \"whose windows opened to the\n sun-rising.\" We had made it as pretty and comfortable as we could,\n and brightened it with freshly cut flowers. The next day I noticed\n he had taken the tablecloth off his writing-table, and in the\n evening he handed it to me, saying, if I remember rightly, \"Here,\n mademoiselle, is your tablecloth. I am afraid of inking it. You had\n better put it away.\" I was grieved, and begged he would use, and\n ink it, too, for the matter of that; but it was no use, not on any\n account would he spoil my cloth, and therefore would not use it.\n\n 'He seemed very happy with us, and I think thoroughly appreciated\n the homelikeness of his surroundings after his lonely life in\n Mongolia, and the dismal rooms of a Chinese inn, and it was such a\n pleasure to minister to his comforts in every possible way we could\n think of.\n\n 'He used to spend his days, as a rule, in the following way:--\n\n 'After breakfast he would write letters. At 10.45, after a cup of\n cocoa, he would go over to the hospital, returning at 1 o'clock to\n dinner. This over, he would go back with my brother to see the\n in-patients. At 4.30 we would all have tea together, after which he\n would make calls, or go for a walk, or talk over committee matters\n with Mr. Lees or Mr. Bryson. Many evenings he would be invited out,\n or would be at a meeting, or would spend it quietly at home; and so\n the time went by till meetings began. Then the whole day till 4\n P.M. was spent in committee, and at six Mr. Gilmour had a\n Bible-class for an hour with the Chinese preachers who had come to\n attend some of the meetings.\n\n 'These were nearly over when your father began to complain of\n feeling done up and of having fever. The following Sunday he was in\n bed. This was only eleven days before he died. On Monday, however,\n he was better. and up, and was able to be with us all day, and took\n the Communion with us all in the evening. Then we chatted together\n for some time and sang hymns, amongst others, \"God be with you till\n we meet again!\" No. 494 in Sankey's _Songs and Solos_.\n\n 'In this connection let me tell you some of Mr. Gilmour's favourite\n hymns in the book just mentioned. Amongst these were Nos. 494, 535,\n 150, 328. I dare say you would like to learn them and sing them for\n his sake.\n\n 'Your dear father was only in bed ten days before the end came, and\n all this time he spoke but little. He was too feverish and ill to\n want to talk or to listen: he just lay quietly, bearing his\n sickness with remarkable patience. One day, observing he was a\n little restless, I went to his bedside and asked him if he wanted\n anything. \"No, nothing,\" was his reply, \"only that the Lord would\n deliver me out of this distress.\"\n\n 'The last few days his mind was not clear, but all his wanderings\n were about his work. It was the last day but one of his life; he\n was more restless than usual, trying all the time to rouse himself,\n as if for a journey, when he looked up and said, \"Where are we\n going?\"\n\n '\"To heaven,\" I answered, \"to see the Lord.\"\n\n '\"No,\" he replied, \"that is not the address.\"\n\n '\"Yes it is, Mr. Gilmour,\" I said again. \"We are going to heaven;\n would you not like to go and see the Lord Jesus?\"\n\n 'Then he seemed to take in the meaning of my words, and reverently\n bowed his head in assent, his lips quivered, and his eyes filled\n with tears; and he was quieted, like a weary child who has lost his\n way and finds on inquiry that only a few more steps and he will be\n at rest and at home.\n\n 'The next day, his last, was still more restless. At one time he\n seemed to be addressing an audience and earnestly gesticulating\n with his hands; and, with as much force as he could command, he\n said: \"We are not spending the time as we should; we ought to be\n waiting on God in prayer for blessing on the work He has given us\n to do. I would like to make a rattling speech--but I cannot--I am\n very ill--and can only say these few words.\" And then he nodded his\n head and waved his hand, as if in farewell to his listeners.\n\n 'It was seven o'clock in the evening when my brother saw the end\n was not far off, and at once we sent for all the other members of\n the Mission that all might watch with him in this last solemn hour.\n He was unconscious the whole time, and his breathing laboured.\n\n 'The two doctors battled for an hour and a half to keep off Death's\n fatal grasp, but to no purpose: the Lord wanted His faithful\n worker, and we could not keep him, though we wanted him much, and\n knew that Willie and Jimmie in England needed him more.\n\n 'Gradually the breathing became quieter and quieter, till at last,\n about 9.30, he just closed his eyes and \"fell asleep,\" with the\n peace of Heaven resting on his face.'\n\nIn a letter sent by Dr. Roberts to Dr. Smith, who was then in England, a\nfew further particulars are given.\n\n 'He preached one Sunday evening a very solemn sermon on \"Examine\n yourself,\" and no one can soon forget the way he preached. During\n the annual meetings he was extra busy. Everyone remarked what a\n good chairman he made, and in the devotional meetings from 9 to\n 9.30 A.M. he was always ready to lead in prayer or speak a few\n words. Freshness, to the point, and to the heart--characterised all\n he did or said. In the evenings he conducted services for the\n native preachers present at the annual gathering, and to these\n meetings he took one foreigner each night to assist in the\n speaking.\n\n 'It was at the close of this busy week, when tired out, that he got\n the fever which eventually carried him home. The fever was very\n irregular in type, but after some days I felt it was an exceptional\n type of typhus fever. Great weakness of the heart was a\n characteristic feature all through his case, and but for this sad\n complication I believe he would have been alive to-day. Weak action\n of the heart was an old enemy of his. For the first week of his\n illness he did not feel very poorly, and we had many chats\n together, and some prayer and reading of God's Word every night\n nearly. But in the second week his temperature went up to 106\u221e,\n and, though it came down under anti-pyretics, he seemed never to\n regain his former ground. His mind became more and more clouded.\n Parker took the night nursing, my sister the day, and I sat with\n him when time allowed. On Thursday, May 21, the day on which he\n died, he was very delirious all day, though he knew us all. I did\n not give up hope till 7 P.M., when his heart failed him in spite of\n active stimulation. It was then that we all gathered round his bed.\n I did my utmost with the help of Frazer to avert the sad end; but\n ere long, seeing our efforts were vain, we ceased, and sat in his\n room and saw him gradually and very peacefully pass away, his\n breath getting feebler and feebler till he closed his eyes and fell\n asleep in Jesus.'\n\nThe funeral took place towards evening on May 23, 1891. It was a lovely\nafternoon, and the sun shining brightly lent additional force to the\nwords of John Bunyan which were printed upon the simple sheet containing\nthe hymn to be sung at the grave: 'The pilgrim they laid in an upper\nchamber whose window opened towards the Sun-rising.' The coffin was\nborne to the grave by two relays of bearers; the first consisted of\nthree European and three native preachers; the second, on the one side,\nof the Rev. S. E. Meech, his brother-in-law; the Rev. J. Parker, his\ncolleague, and Dr. Roberts; and on the other Liu, his faithful Chinese\npreacher and helper, Chang, the tutor of the theological class at\nTientsin, and Hsi, his courier, a native of T\u00b7 Ss[)u] Kou. His last\nresting-place immediately adjoins that of his dearly loved friend, Dr.\nMackenzie, and the service at the grave was conducted by the Rev.\nJonathan Lees and the Rev. J. Parker. Chang offered prayer, and a\nfarewell hymn was sung.\n\n Sleep on, beloved, sleep, and take thy rest;\n Lay down thy head upon thy Saviour's breast;\n We love thee well; but Jesus loves thee best--\n Good night! Good night! Good night!\n\n Until the shadows from this earth are cast;\n Until He gathers in His sheaves at last;\n Until the twilight gloom be overpast--\n Good night! Good night! Good night!\n\n Until we meet again before His throne,\n Clothed in the spotless robe He gives His own,\n Until we know even as we are known--\n Good night! Good night! Good night!\n\nLittle Chinese boys who had known and loved Mr. Gilmour came forward and\nthrew handfuls of flowers into his grave, loving hands laid upon the\ncoffin a wreath of white blossoms on behalf of the now orphaned boys\nfar away, and the simple but beautiful service was closed by a\nspontaneous act on the part of the Chinese converts present. Pressing\nnear the grave of him whose heart loved China and the Chinese with a\nfervour and an enthusiasm that may have been equalled, but certainly\nhave never been surpassed, they sang in their own tongue the hymn\nbeginning, 'In the Christian's home in glory.'\n\nThe labourer had entered into the rest he had so often seen by the eye\nof faith. 'There remains,' he wrote, less than a year before his death,\n'a rest. Somewhere ahead. Not very far at the longest. Perfect, quiet,\nfull, without solitude, isolation, or inability to accomplish; when the\ndays of our youth will be more than restored to us; where, should\nmysteries remain, there will be no torment in them. And the reunions\nthere! Continuous too, with no feeling that the rest of to-day is\nto-morrow to be ended by a plunge again into a world seething with\niniquity, and groaning with suffering.'\n\nMany pages might be filled with loving eulogies of James Gilmour. But\nthe best of all is the simple story of his life. Yet two or three\nreferences to his work and influence must here find a place.\n\nFrom the pen of Dr. Reynolds comes this weighty testimony:--\n\n 'The end of his career came all too suddenly, and in gathering\n together my impressions of it as a whole, I am convinced that I\n have seldom seen a man so entirely possessed by a grand idea, so\n utterly persuaded that we had a debt to pay to the heathen world,\n so invincibly sure that Christian faith and life was the one\n supreme need of these regions beyond our circle of light. Few men\n have cast the bread upon greater waters, have sown the seed over a\n wider area, or had to mourn more sadly over those heart-breaking\n months which intervene between the seedtime and the harvest.\n Impartial critics have recognised the intense honesty, the shrewd\n wit, the faculty of vision, the power to tell the story of his rare\n experiences with such verisimilitude as to force upon the reader a\n ready acquiescence in every detail of his narrative. But his\n Christian brethren saw a deeper vein than this in Gilmour's\n achievements. He was ablaze from first to last with a passionate\n desire to set forth Christ in His majesty and mercy, in all His\n power to heal and to command. I had unexpected opportunities of\n finding how tender and affectionate his nature was; how grateful\n and enthusiastic his love to his Hamilton home, to his father,\n mother, and wife, and how faithful and loyal he was to the society\n and the brotherhood of his Alma Mater.'\n\nThe Rev. G. Owen, at a memorial service held in Peking very shortly\nafter Mr. Gilmour's death, gave a sketch of his character and work, and\nthus summed up his life:--\n\n 'He spared himself in nothing, but gave himself wholly to God. He\n kept nothing back. All was laid upon the altar. I doubt if even St.\n Paul endured more for Christ than did James Gilmour. I doubt, too,\n if Christ ever received from human hands or human heart more\n loving, devoted service.\n\n 'If anyone asks, \"Would it not have been better if Mr. Gilmour had\n taken more care of himself and lived longer?\" I would answer: \"I\n don't know. His life was beautiful, and I would not alter it if I\n could. A few years of such service as he gave Christ are worth a\n hundred years of humdrum toil. We need the inspiration of such a\n life as his. Heaven, too, is the richer for such a man and such a\n life. The pearly gates opened wide, I have no doubt, to receive\n him. Angels and men gave him glad welcome, and what a smile would\n light up the Saviour's face as He received His faithful servant\n home!\"\n\n 'And he being dead yet speaketh. He says, \"Be faithful, work hard,\n for the night cometh when no man can work. Be earnest, for life is\n brief; be ready, for life is uncertain.\" But why did God call him\n away in the midst of life and work? I don't know. Possibly work\n here is not of such importance as we think. Or there is more\n important service elsewhere waiting for such men as Mr. Gilmour. He\n has been faithful over a few things; he has been made ruler over\n many things, and has entered into the joy of his Lord.'\n\nMr. Parker wrote to the sons of his late colleague on June 6, 1891:--\n\n 'It is sad that my first letter to you should be to tell you about\n your father's death, of which no doubt you have heard long ago....\n The last photographs of yourselves which you sent out he always had\n where he could see them. Whenever he travelled he took them with\n him. At Tientsin during his last illness he had them on a low side\n table, just on a level with his bed, so that as he lay there he\n could see them.... He was very happy, and died like a faithful\n soldier who had finished his work. It is sad, dear boys, to lose a\n father such as he was, but it is a great blessing to have had such\n a father, one so brave, so courageous, one who for the sake of\n Christ suffered bodily discomfort and pain, suffered terrible\n loneliness that he might win some of God's sinning children back\n to their Father's arms. He lived and suffered for the Mongols, and\n though God denied him the honour of baptizing even one of them, yet\n so faithful was he to his work that he toiled on to the very last.\n \"Faithful unto death\" are words fully exemplified in your father's\n life.'\n\nIn his first letter from Mongolia after his prompt return to carry on in\na like spirit of faith and devotion the work from which Mr. Gilmour had\nbeen summoned away Mr. Parker depicts the grief of the native Christians\non learning their loss. 'The sorrow of the converts here (Ch'ao Yang) at\nthe news of Gilmour's death was very touching Grown-up men burst into\ntears and sobbed like children when they were told he was dead. All\nalong the route where Gilmour was such a familiar visitor, in the\nmarket-place, and at their fairs, the first question they asked as soon\nas they saw me was, \"Has Mr. Gilmour come?\" And at my reply there was\nalways great astonishment, accompanied by expressions of sorrow. Every\nday at evening prayers I can hear Gilmour's name mingled with their\npetitions. The Christians here have sent a letter of sympathy to his two\nboys.\n\n 'Here in Ch'ao Yang there are any amount of Mongols, not nomadic,\n tent-loving, but settled here, and hence they do not have to be\n sought. Right in the centre of the town is an immense Mongol temple\n with two or three hundred priests. Every day I have several of the\n priests in here, and yet I have heard again and again that this\n mission is misplaced. Some such words often pained the heart that\n is now still in death. But this is, and shall be, essentially a\n Mongol mission in this, that as the best efforts of dear Gilmour\n were for making Christ known to the Mongols, my best endeavours\n shall be to this end. But if some hungry Chinaman, standing by as I\n hold out the bread of life to his Mongol brother, seeks to eat of\n it, he shall have it, and be as welcome as the other.'\n\nThe letter to the children referred to in Mr. Parker's report is a\nfitting description of James Gilmour's life, and he himself would have\ndesired no other panegyric. It came from the hearts of men on whose\nbehalf he had given his very best, and it shows how strong a hold he had\nobtained upon their affection.\n\n 'We respectfully enquire for the peace and happiness of your\n excellencies, our brothers Gilmour, also for the peace of your\n whole school. In the first place Pastor Gilmour in his preaching\n and doctoring at Ch'ao Yang, north of the Pass, truly loved others\n as himself, was considerate and humble, and had the likeness of\n (our) Saviour Jesus. Not only the Christians thank him without end,\n but even those outside the Church (the heathen) bless him without\n limit. We, who through Pastor Gilmour have obtained the doctrine of\n the second birth, and received the grace of Jesus, had hoped with\n Mr. Gilmour to have assembled on the earth until our heads were\n white and in the future life to have gone with him to heaven.\n Little did we think we should have been so unhappy. He has already\n gone to the Lord. We certainly know he is in the presence of the\n Lord, not only praying for us, but also for you our brothers.\n\n 'We pray you, when you see this letter, not to grieve beyond\n measure. We hope that you will study with increased ardour, so as\n to obtain the heavenly wisdom, like Solomon, and that afterwards\n you may come to China, to this Ch'ao Yang, to preach the Gospel\n widely. As the father did, may the sons follow, is our earnest\n desire.\n\n 'Signed by the Ch'ao Yang Christians,\n\n 'LIU MAO LIN (preacher).\n P'ANG TIEN K'UEI.\n WANG SHENG.\n NING FU TUNG.\n CHANG WAN CH'UAN.\n CHANG KUEI.\n CHIANG SHENG.\n WANG HUI HSIEN.\n LIU I (your father's servant).\n SUNG KANG.\n CH'U WEN YUAN.\n CHANG CHEN.\n CHANG MAO CHI.\n NING KUANG CHEN.\n LIU CHO.\n T'IEN TE CH'UN.\n HU TE.'\n\n\nHere, then, we leave him. If the story of his life fail to touch the\nheart, to deepen faith, to exalt our estimate of renewed human nature,\nand to revive enthusiasm in work for Christ at home and abroad, the\nfault must be in him who has tried to tell it, and to set in order the\nfacts.\n\nGod's ways are ofttimes dark. James Gilmour had often felt this, and, to\nthose who knew him, it seemed as though he were taken just when God's\nwork needed him most, when the first-fruits of the coming harvest were\nbeing gathered, when his knowledge of the Chinese and the Mongols, and\ntheir knowledge of him and affection for him, were beginning to tell.\nBut God knows best, and nothing can deprive the Church of Christ of the\nsplendid self-sacrifice, of the noble perseverance in the path of duty\nof the bright example of courage, devotion, enthusiasm for souls, and\npatient continuance in well doing shining so clearly through all the\nlong, years of toil. Love, self-crucifixion, Jesus Christ closely\nfollowed in adversity, in loneliness, in manifold perils, under almost\nevery conceivable form of trial and hindrance and resistance both\nactive and passive--these are the seeds James Gilmour has sown so richly\non the hard Mongolian Plain, and over its Eastern mountains and valleys.\n'In due time we shall reap if we faint not.' His work goes on. He is now\ndoing the Master's bidding in the higher service. There, we must fain\nbelieve, he is finding full scope for those altogether exceptional\nspiritual affinities, and powers and capacities which stand out so\nconspicuously all through the story of his inner life. Upon us who yet\nremain rests the responsibility of carrying forward the work he began,\nof reinforcing the workers, of bearing Mongolia upon our prayers until\nBuddhism shall fade away before the pure truth and the perfect love of\nJesus Christ, and even the hard and unresponsive Mongols come to\nrecognise the truths James Gilmour so long and so faithfully tried to\nteach them--that they need the Great Physician even more than they need\nthe earthly doctor, and that He is more able and willing to heal the\nhurt of their souls than the earthly physician is to remove the disease\nof their bodies.\n\nIs not the real lesson of James Gilmour's life twofold? If it be looked\nat from the point of view of results, it should give clear and vivid\nideas of the unwisdom of being cast down by the absence of results in\nface of the difficulties of missionary work in China. It is to be feared\nthat there are still large numbers of good Christian people who believe\nthat for the conversion of Chinamen and Mongols all that is requisite is\nto put into the hands of the heathen a copy of God's Word in their\nnative tongue, and then preach to them the good tidings of salvation. No\nman in this, or in past generation, has done this more faithfully than\nJames Gilmour. No man ever believed more firmly in the truth that it is\n'not by might nor by power,' but by the direct influence of the Holy\nSpirit, that the intellect and conscience and heart of the heathen are\nto be subdued to the Saviour. No man ever wrestled more eagerly and\nfervently in prayer on behalf of the ignorant and sinful, and yet his\navowed converts can be numbered on the fingers. Does this prove that God\nis unfaithful? Does this tend to show that the enterprise is hopeless?\nOr has God been teaching us, by the life of one of His ablest and truest\nservants, the lesson of patient continuance in the path of His commands,\nwhether He blesses or whether He withholds? Is He not proclaiming to His\nChurch the need of a self-sacrifice _in all its members_ commensurate\nwith that displayed by James Gilmour and others who like him have not\ncounted their lives dear unto themselves in the struggle with\nheathenism? Some must go in the 'forlorn hope.' Some must lay down their\nlives in preparing the highway of our God. 'Herein is the saying true,\nOne soweth and another reapeth.' But succeeding toilers in the Mongolian\nfield, as the direct result of James Gilmour's sowing, will be able in\ndays to come to apply to themselves our Lord's words, 'I sent you to\nreap that whereon ye have not laboured:--others have laboured, and ye\nare entered into their labour.'\n\nIf the life of James Gilmour be looked at altogether apart from the\nresults that can be entered in tables of statistics, how splendidly\ninspiring it is! Faithful to his Master, faithful to his work, although\nthe Master _seemed_ to delay the blessing, although the work wore down\nthe worker. 'I,' said St. Paul to the thankless Corinthian Church,\n'will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls. If I love you more\nabundantly, am I loved the less? But be it so.' And in the Epistle to\nthe Romans he applied to the Jews who were resisting the Gospel the\nancient words of Isaiah: 'But as to Israel He saith, All the day long\ndid I spread out my hands unto a disobedient and gainsaying people. I\nsay then, Did God cast off His people? God forbid.' Nor will God cast\noff the Israel of China, or the Mongols who gave to the faithful teacher\nrespect, attention, and in a way the love of their hearts, but who as\nyet have not surrendered those hearts to their true Lord. James Gilmour,\nin season and out of season, in almost constant solitude, in\nsuperabounding physical labours that often overburdened him, and once\nnearly broke him down, in the long disappointment of the most cherished\nhopes, and under the constant strain of what would have crushed any but\na giant in faith, lived a life which, if it taught no other lesson, was\nyet well worth living to teach this--that Jesus Christ can and does give\nHis servants the victory over apparent non-success, after the most\nvehement and long-sustained effort to secure success, and that this is\nthe greatest victory possible to renewed and sanctified human nature.\n\n\n PRINTED BY\n SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW STREET SQUARE\n LONDON\n\n\n CHEAP EDITION.\n\n Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. cloth boards.\n\n\n JAMES GILMOUR\n OF MONGOLIA:\n\n _HIS DIARIES, LETTERS, AND REPORTS._\n\n\n[Illustration: Sincerely yours James Gilmour]\n\n\n EDITED AND ARRANGED BY\n RICHARD LOVETT, M.A.\n\n _Author of 'Norwegian Pictures,' 'The Printed English Bible,'\n 'London Pictures,' &c._\n\n\n PUBLISHED BY THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY,\n 56 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON.\n\n [P.T.O.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Press Notices\n\n OF\n\n THE LIFE OF GILMOUR.\n\n'The story of James Gilmour will, if we mistake not, take a place of its\nown in modern missionary literature. To a world devoted so much to\nmercenary interests, and a Church too given to take things easily, the\nlife is at once a rebuke and an appeal not easily to be\nforgotten.'--CHRISTIAN WORLD.\n\n'We are sure that this work will be read with the deepest interest by\nChurchmen as well as Nonconformists.'--RECORD.\n\n'A notable addition to the number of impressive and fascinating\nmissionary books--a volume fit to stand on the same shelf with the\nbiographies of Paton and Mackay.'--BRITISH WEEKLY.\n\n'James Gilmour may appear to some as a hero, to others as a deluded\nenthusiast, but no one who takes up this account of his life and work\ncan fail to be fascinated by it.'--MANCHESTER GUARDIAN.\n\n'Out of sight the most interesting and valuable missionary biography of\nrecent years.'--LITERARY WORLD.\n\n'Not only deeply interesting as a record of missionary labour, but teems\nwith characteristic sketches of Chinese manners, customs, and\nscenery.'--TIMES (WEEKLY).\n\n'Unlike many missionary records, his letters and journals can be read.\nIndeed, it is difficult to stop reading, once you have begun.' NATIONAL\nOBSERVER.\n\n'For an age which, as the editor remarks, likes \"large and quick\nreturns\" for its investments, the history of a man who had for many\nyears to possess his soul in patience has a real and permanent value.'\nDAILY TELEGRAPH.\n\n'From every point of view the book deserves the highest praise.' GLASGOW\nHERALD.\n\n'Not the least interesting portion of the book will be its strange\npictures of life amid Mongol surroundings.'--LIVERPOOL COURIER.\n\n * * * * *\n\n By JAMES GILMOUR.\n\n AMONG THE MONGOLS.\n\n BY THE LATE\n REV. JAMES GILMOUR, M.A.\n\n With Engravings. 2s. 6d. cloth, gilt.\n\n'There has been, if our experience serves us at all, no book quite like\nthis since \"Robinson Crusoe\"; and \"Robinson Crusoe\" is not better, does\nnot tell a story more directly, or produce more instantaneous and final\nconviction. No one who begins this book will leave it till the narrative\nends, or doubt for an instant, whether he knows Defoe or not, that he\nhas been enchained by something separate and distinct in literature,\nsomething almost uncanny in the way it has gripped him, and made him see\nfor ever a scene he never expected to see.'--THE SPECTATOR.\n\n'Mr. Gilmour tells a story well, and though he tells it quite simply and\nstraightforwardly, he never misses the point of it. He writes, moreover,\nafter having had exceptional chances of gaining a thorough acquaintance\nwith the Mongolian character.'--THE GUARDIAN.\n\n'There is a charm in the quiet way in which the modest missionary tells\nof his life in Tartar tents, of the long rides across the grassy plain,\nand of the daily life of the nomads among whom he passed so many years.'\nFORTNIGHTLY REVIEW.\n\n'Mr. Gilmour's volume is one of the most charming books about a strange\npeople that we have read for many a day.'--NATURE.\n\n'Mr. Gilmour has lived _t\u00cdte-\u2021-t\u00cdte_ with a Buddhist Lama under his own\nmovable roof; he has shared the hospitality of the desert caravan; he\nhas taken his turn in the night-watch against thieves; and he has dwelt\nas a lodger in their more permanent abodes of trellis-work and felt. As\na picture of the raw material from which Chinese civilisation has been\nfinally evolved--the primitive stage of Tartar nomad communities--these\nsketches possess a great sociological value; while from the point of\nview of the reader for amusement alone they are full of liveliness and\nlocal colouring.' PALL MALL GAZETTE.\n\n'Although it appears in unpretentious form, this is a really remarkable\nchronicle of travel and adventure.'--THE GLOBE.\n\n\n By JAMES GILMOUR.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n Crown 8vo. 5s. cloth.\n\n MORE ABOUT THE MONGOLS.\n\n Selected and Arranged from Mr. GILMOUR'S Diaries and Papers\n By RICHARD LOVETT, M.A.,\n _Author of 'James Gilmour of Mongolia' &c._\n\n'The style of the writer and the novelty of the theme, and the heart\nwhich so longs for \"Mongols\" showing itself on many a page, combine to\nmake the work intensely interesting, instructive, and impressive.'--THE\nPRESBYTERIAN.\n\n'The experiences of a devoted missionary, whose gift of circumstantial\nnarrative has not inaptly been likened to Defoe's.'--THE TIMES.\n\n'It is indeed a delightful volume, which will be welcomed by all who\ndesire the extension of Christ's kingdom on earth.'--ENGLISH CHURCHMAN.\n\n'Extracts from the diaries of one of the most adventurous and\nself-denying of missionaries.'--SATURDAY REVIEW.\n\n'Will be welcomed wherever the name of James Gilmour is known.' THE\nRECORD.\n\n'A fascinating volume of travels, and a series of observations on men\nand manners which show the stuff of which our British missionaries are\nmade.' METHODIST TIMES.\n\n'Will delight readers of all ages.'--CHRISTIAN WORLD.\n\n\n * * * * *\n\n Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. cloth, gilt edges.\n\n JAMES GILMOUR AND HIS BOYS.\n\n By RICHARD LOVETT, M.A.\n\n With Facsimile Letters and many Illustrations.\n\n'Ought to be in every Sunday School library.'--THE CHRISTIAN.\n\n'It is full of curious passages of adventure; and has a strong religious\ninterest which will not fail to give young readers an intelligent\nappreciation of the nature of foreign mission work.'--SCOTSMAN.\n\n'It has been skilfully put together and will make an admirable\ngift-book.' BRITISH WEEKLY.\n\n'It should find a place in all Christian homes.' WESTERN MORNING NEWS.\n\n'It is one that all boys, and girls too, will delight to read.' SCOTTISH\nLEADER.\n\n'A fascinating volume from beginning to end.'--BAPTIST.\n\n * * * * *\n\n PUBLISHED BY THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY,\n 56 Paternoster Row, London; and Sold by all Booksellers.\n\n _Spottiswoode & Co. Printers, New-street Square, London._","title":"James Gilmour of Mongolia: His diaries, letters, and reports","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":93134}