'My dear Sons,--I am well and thankful for it. I am getting on well too, thank G.o.d. I have had terrible weather lately though. Daily I have my tent--it is only a cloth roof on six bamboo poles--put up in the market-place. We have had three days' wind. Eh, man, the first day the dust was terrible. But I had lots of patients and remained out all day. At last we had to take down our tent. It could not stand. The tent was carried to the inn, but we remained with our table till evening. You would hardly have known us for dust. But patients came all the time. Next day the tent was blown down twice. Once a man's head got such a smack with the bamboo tent pole, but he said nothing and took it quite pleasantly. A peep-show man near us got his show blown down and scattered about. He gathered it up and went home to his inn.

[Ill.u.s.tration: JAMES GILMOUR'S TENT]

'I am so glad that the people like us and trust us and come about us for medicines. Women came too. Boys came too. Just now the school boys have holiday for the fair, and they stand for a long time together looking at me doctoring the people. What the boys like to see is a gla.s.s bottle of eye medicine which I bring out and set up. Then I dip a gla.s.s tube in and press an india-rubber bulb. The air comes out in the water in bubbles and rises up to the surface, and the boys are so delighted to see it bubbling. They will wait a long time and like to see it ever so often. They are sometimes troublesome, then I send them away. When they are good I shove the gla.s.s tube deep down into the bottle, and they are so delighted to see the air bubbling up from the bottom.

'When a man comes to have a tooth pulled even the men are delighted, and advise him to have it out. They want to see the fun.

Mothers send their little boys for medicine, and I am so pleased with some of the little lads. They are so modest and so polite, making a deep bow as they go away. Always be modest and polite, my sons, and people will love you and treat you well.

'The boys buy a lot of books too, and I preach to them earnestly, because in ten years to come they will be men, and if they know about Jesus now they may more easily become Christians some day soon. You, Jimmie, know Jesus; does Willie? Teach him. Mamma is not here to teach him, and I am far away. You are his big brother.

Teach you him like a good laddie as you are.

'The other day when I was preaching a man was standing behind me with a little black pig under his arm. He wanted to hear me preach, but the pig would not be quiet. He held its mouth shut, but the little pig would still manage to give a squeak now and again. At last it would not be quiet at all, and he had to go away with it. I could not help smiling at him. There is an old man here in my inn.

He is owner of the inn. His son manages the inn. The old man is not very old. He is about sixty-five. But he used to be a great opium smoker. A year or more ago he had a very serious illness and gave up his opium, but he had wrecked his health by his smoking. He cannot now live many months. He can hardly speak plainly now. He comes to see me in my room, and I try to tell him about Jesus, hoping that he may be saved. He listens, but he is not very bright in his mind. I hope he may pray to Jesus.

'The other day I had to pull my own tooth. It was the back tooth and had been painful for days. There was no one who could do it for me, so I sat down with a little Chinese looking-gla.s.s before a candle, got a good hold of it with the forceps, and after a good deal of wrenching out it came. He _was_ a deep-p.r.o.nged fellow, and he did bleed. I was so thankful that G.o.d helped me to get it out. I can sleep now all right.

'Our Mongol donkeyman wants to be a Christian. I hope he is sincere, but he is very slow and dull at learning. There are three other men here who are learning about Jesus too, but it is too early yet to say much about them. A good many people learn some, then stop. But it is late and I must go to bed, else I won't be able to preach and doctor all day in the market-place at the fair to-morrow.

'Praying that G.o.d may bless you, my sons, and sending you much love,

'I am your affectionate Father, 'JAMES GILMOUR.'

'Ta Cheng Tz[)u]: Sept. 3, 1887.

'My dear Sons,--I am well, and thankful for it. The three Christians here come daily to evening worship. There are here others who want to be Christians, but who have not courage enough.

One man's wife won't let him be a Christian; she says she will kill herself if he does. Another man is in the same case. He is a Chinaman, his wife is a Mongol. Still another man has a Mongol wife, and she kept him back. The other day he came and confessed Christianity. His wife does not consent, only says: "We'll see."

Another man's father hinders his son from Christianity. The lad is a very nice lad.

'Yesterday was the day when people make offerings of food and fruit at the graves. One of the Christians was sent to do so. He brought the melon here, and we ate half of it with him.

'Still another man is forbidden by his father to be a Christian.

That is, in all, five men are Christians at heart, and read our books and are learning Christianity, but do not confess Christ in this one place. Do you know what Jesus says about such people (Matt. x. 32-39)? Jesus says that, if they obey others rather than Him, they are not worthy to be His disciples. I am praying for all these people. I ask you, too, to pray for these and all like them, that they may be able to confess Christ. It is difficult for men in China to be Christians. How different with you! We all want you to be Christians. Your father and friends all help you to be Christians, and if you are not Christians we are all distressed.

'Boys, do be true to Jesus. In your words and deeds honour Him.

Make _His_ heart glad. Jesus wants your love. He loves you and died for you. You cannot but love Him if you think how He loves you.

Good-bye. Meantime I am just going to breakfast, and then for a day on the street, trying to tell the people about Jesus. G.o.d bless you, my dear lads!

'It is now afternoon. I write a few lines. A lad in a shop here has a tame dove. He has painted it all over different colours. It looks absurd. I don't like to see it sitting about the shop. Doves look so happy flying about. Mamma, too, liked to see birds on the trees and houses wild, not kept in cages.

'I guess you are just about getting your breakfast. Here it is about 4 P.M. With you it should be 8 A.M. Sat.u.r.day; I wish I could see you. My love to you, my dear sons. May you always, both now and when grown, be boys and men that know and love Jesus! I pray for you. Your loving father,

'JAMES GILMOUR.'

In August 1884 a third son was given to Mr. and Mrs. Gilmour, whom they named Alexander. In 1887 spinal trouble developed, and in December of that year he died. 'Though often ill,' wrote his father when announcing the death to the uncle after whom he had been named, 'his life was a happy one. It is now happier than ever. Thanks be to G.o.d that there is, and that we know that there is, a bright and happy life beyond. Let us make that the great meeting-place for ourselves and our children and friends. May it stand before us as a joy! As ever and anon one and another goes there, may we feel that we have more and more interest there! Let us live looking to the joy set before us!' This baby-brother is the Alick referred to in the following letter:--

'Ta Cheng Tz[)u], Mongolia: February 11, 1888.

'My dear Sons,--I am well, and thankful for it. I got here two days ago. I had such a cold time of it on the road! I never felt the cold so much before.

'People here are very busy. This is the last day of the Chinese year.

'To-morrow is the first day of the Chinese year. Everybody is buying all sorts of food, because the shops do not open for some days after the new year. They are very busy, too, sc.r.a.ping off the old papers at the sides of their doors and pasting up new papers.

They (the papers) are red, and look fine at first with the great black Chinese characters written on them. But the sun after a while takes the colour out of them.

'They are busy, too, pasting up the new G.o.ds in their houses. They (the G.o.ds) are sheets of paper with pictures of G.o.ds on them. Every house has a G.o.d of the kitchen. They send him to heaven, as they think, by burning him. They burnt the old one last Sat.u.r.day. They are putting up the new one now. They think that when he is burnt he goes to heaven and reports to a G.o.d what he has seen in the house during the year. I ask them if I burnt them would they think they were going to heaven? They buy sticky sugar-cakes to give him so that he may be pleased, and not tell on them for doing evil things.

They think, too, that the sugar sticks his lips together, so that when he wants to tell on them he can't get his mouth open! Isn't it all very silly and very sad? The shopkeepers, too, paste up a "G.o.d of riches," thinking that thus they will become rich!

'To-morrow (Sunday) I hope to baptize a man. He is a Chinaman. That will make four Christians here. They all have faults and weaknesses, and I am not very easy in my mind about them. Pray that G.o.d may make them better and make them grow in grace. Pray, too, that G.o.d may convert more of the people. Pray, too, that G.o.d may give us a house of our own to live in. People here are afraid to let us have a house. Now that Dr. Roberts is coming, we will need a house. He is coming in six or seven weeks. Then he stays two months, and goes back to Tientsin for a while again. We saw the Christian at Ta Ss[)u] Kou as we pa.s.sed. The Ch'ao Yang man we have not seen yet.

'I have made all your letters to me into a book, and have them with me. Your letters are nice to read, and show great improvement in the writing. I am going to keep all your letters this year too and bind them. You may like to see them when you grow big. The last letter from you is dated October 27.

'My dear sons, I think of you often and pray for you much.

'You have a photo of mamma's grave. Little Alick's little mound is close to mamma's, on the side nearer little Edie's. Mamma's and Alick's coffins touch down below. They lie together. But mamma and Alick are not there. They are in heaven, with its golden streets and its beautiful river, and its trees of life, and its beautiful gates, and its good, loving, kind people, and Jesus and G.o.d. They are having such a nice time of it there!

'My boys, don't be afraid of dying. Pray to Jesus, do the things He likes, and if you die you will go to Him, to His fine place, where you'll have everything that is nice and good. I don't know whether you or I will go there first, but I hope that by-and-by we'll all be there, mamma and Alick and all. I like to think of this.

Meantime let us be doing for Jesus all we can, telling people about Him and trying to persuade them to be His people. Are your schoolfellows Jesus' boys? Do you ever tell them of Him? Tell them, my dear sons.

'I hope to get letters from you in about a month.

'Good-bye, my dear boys.

'May you be good and diligent, and then you'll be happy. Jesus can make you glad.

'Your loving Father, 'JAMES GILMOUR.'

Mrs. Meech had shown much motherly kindness to her little nephew Alexander, and only a few months after he had died she herself lost a little son. Mr. Gilmour, on hearing the sad tidings, wrote to her as follows:--

'Mongolia: March 25, 1888.

'My dear Mrs. Meech,--Many congratulations and condolences with you. Your little son has gone to Emily. She'll look after the little man as you looked after her little man. Just fancy! we have family connections in heaven not a few, and ever increasing. I hope you are now getting better and going on all right.

'I am much cheered by the good news of soul movements in the West Mission. May they continue and increase!

'With many prayers for you all, and kept in constant remembrance of you all by the date block,

'Yours in loving sympathy, 'JAMES GILMOUR.'

'May 30, 1888.

'I am doctoring a little homeless lad's head here. I put on ointment all over it to-day. He cried. I said I had medicine that would stop the pain, and brought out six cash--one farthing--and told him to go and have a bowl of buckwheat meal strings. All laughed, he stopped crying, and did not seem to feel the pain after that. Most of the people in the town are much impressed with the improvement in the boy's head. Before he came to me I saw a Chinese medicine-man poking at the lad's head with a straw. When he came I rubbed on ointment with my finger. The bystanders were much pleased to see I was not averse to touching the poor dirty lad's sore head.

Jesus touched a leper, and I like to do things like what Jesus would do. That is the right way, boys. Always think what Jesus would have done, and do like Him.'