'Mongolia: Sept. 9, 1888.

'My dear Sons,--I am out on a journey. I knew letters were being sent me, and hoped to meet them. A long way off I saw a red umbrella, the sun shining through the oilcloth. The thought pa.s.sed through my mind, "Can that be the messenger?" But I forgot all about it, reading a book as I walked along. All at once I heard, "He's come," and looking up, saw the red umbrella close at hand. It _was_ him. The messenger returns to-morrow. I had had no letters for eighty days.

'I wrote you last on August 2. Since then several men have professed Christ, and one man has been baptized.

'One of the Christians at Ta Cheng Tz[)u] stole my bankbook and drew money of mine, amounting to about 3_l._ He says he is penitent, and we have put him on a year's probation to see how he does. He is a lazy man. Long ago I said, "If you are lazy, some day the devil will make you a sinner," and so he did. Had he been a diligent man he would not have been poor and would not have stolen.

Diligence is a good thing, laziness is a bad thing. A good Christian cannot be lazy, because he knows Jesus does not like lazy people. I may write you again in a few days. Hoping next mail to get a letter from you (there was none this mail), and asking G.o.d to bless you in everything, and guide you in all your life,

'I am your loving Father, 'JAMES GILMOUR'

'Ch'ao Yang, Mongolia: Sat.u.r.day, November 17, 1888.

'My dear Sons,--On the street to-day I saw a crowd standing. I went up to see what they were looking at, and found two Chinese gentlemen showing off a trained bird. One of the men stood down on the street. The other put three little flags so that they stuck on the wall. The bird then flew away, caught up a flag, and came flying back to its master in the street, carrying the flag in its bill. It looked very clever. Every time the bird brought a flag it was rewarded by being fed with some nice food which it liked. It was very pretty to see it. But after all it was a very trifling employment for two grown gentlemen to be engaged in. Even the crowd of ordinary Chinese seemed to think so.

'I don't like to see birds in captivity. It is pretty to see them wild flying about, and to hear them singing, but I pity them in cages, and tied by string as the Chinese are fond of doing with them. When I see birds tied I often think of mamma who used so much to like to see them wild.

'I remember one day in Mongolia mamma stopped me from plucking a flower; she said it looked so pretty growing. Another time a beetle flew and alighted somewhere; mamma said, "It is so glad that it is alive, don't hurt it."

'I am a good deal distressed to see the boys in the market-place.

They steal just as much as ever they can from the sellers of straw and fuel, pluck out handfuls from the bundles and run away not at all ashamed. If the owner does not chase them they get off with it.

If he throws down his load and runs after them they drop the plunder, the owner picks it up, and no more is said about it.

'In summer little naked boys follow people carrying fruit in open baskets and steal it as they can: it all seems so dishonest, and no one seems to care. On the street lots of people will see a thief stealing a man's pipe and never say a word, because it is not their business.'

'I often think of you and pray for you. You do not forget mamma, I am sure. She is with Jesus. Be you His lads, and do your lessons well, and He'll guide you all through life. Be diligent and careful lads, and you'll grow up useful and honoured men. Constantly tell Jesus all your affairs.

'Goodbye meantime, my boys.

'Much love from your affectionate Father, 'JAMES GILMOUR.'

CHAPTER XI

CLOSING LABOURS

James Gilmour remained in Great Britain less than eight months. The society of his boys was a great delight to him. He rejoiced in renewed intercourse with relatives and old friends. His religious convictions and his own spiritual life deepened still more. He went to a considerable number of meetings to speak on missionary work and needs, and he everywhere produced a great impression.

Referring to this visit, and especially to his intercourse with the boys, a near relative writes:--

'It was a time full of interest and pleasure. What a variety of moods, from the frolicsome to the pathetic, he displayed! But evidently his wife's death had laid hold upon his very soul, and there seemed so much more of sadness and tenderness than on his former visit, when he had enjoyed her bright companionship. On one occasion, referring to a medical missionary who had brought his wife home from China hopelessly ill, and who was expecting the end, he said: "Eh, man, he little knows the _terrible_ dark valley he has to come through, and if Christ is not with him he will be undone!" He spoke the words as though he were again going through his own agony, and then added: "But if Christ is with him he will come out of it with victory, and Christ will be dearer. But he has _no_ idea what he has to face, though he thinks he has."

'He had looked forward to spending part of his time with his sons at Millport, where he had spent June and July 1883 with his wife and boys on his former visit. So we went there for a month, and they had a good time boating, and walking, and reviving old memories of the happy home circle. The thought of reunion was always made prominent. The boys must ever remember his earnest efforts to lead their thoughts heavenward, and they do think of heaven as a very real place.

'While at Millport he spent several nights in pasting up texts on every place likely to catch the eye; on stones and gateways and fences all round the island. He felt he must work while time was granted to him. I had noticed him making paste, but thought nothing of it. I had heard the sound of a softly closing door at midnight, but thought it must be fancy. It had gone to my heart to feel his icy cold hand when he gave me his morning greeting. I noticed the little texts pasted up, but never thought of them as his work till the next day, when he began to make more paste, and then the whole thing came to me like a flash. I begged him with tears not to go out in the cold night air, and said that I knew G.o.d would rather have him stay in his warm comfortable bed and get well and strong. He answered so kindly: "Sister, it pains me to grieve you."

But he finished his work nevertheless.

'He was always wonderfully considerate, and grateful for any attention.

Sometimes, when he saw me unusually tired, he would go and get an extra pillow and make me rest on the sofa, or when we came to the table he would place me in a comfortable chair and pour out the tea himself, or he would say: "Sister, take a cup yourself first, then you will be able to help us."

'On the day before he left us to return to China he really said his farewell. We had finished dinner, and when he went out he stood and looked in through the window at the happy faces still around the table.

He threw a kiss, and then his feelings overcame him, his lip quivered, the tears came to his eyes, and he hastened away. Later in the day, when I was speaking hopefully of seeing him again, he answered: "I shall see your face no more."

'I know he felt very much giving up the comforts of civilised life, but he set his face to it. It touched me much the last evening he was with us, when, after I had to remind him two or three times of some business it was needful for him to attend to before he would go, he said: "I can hardly drag myself away from this bright cosy scene."

'His was a rarely sensitive soul. It pained him to hear any one speaking evil of another. I have seen him turn deadly pale when he has heard any one impute a wrong motive. He longed for more of the spirit of Christ among men. How he longed, too, for more workers in the Mission field!

Many a time he would say, after a walk through Hamilton on a Sat.u.r.day evening: "Just think! In a little town like this there are men preaching at every other street corner, and I am alone in all of those hundreds of square miles in Mongolia! What you people are thinking of I cannot imagine!"'

In a correspondence which he conducted with the daughter of one of his former professors there is very much that reveals how deep and strong his religious life had become, and how he had noted the current of renewed spirituality which is evident now in all sections of the Evangelical Church.

From this correspondence we have been permitted to cull some beautiful and helpful pa.s.sages.

'Glasgow: November 18, 1889.

'May He Himself lead you into closer and closer communion with Him, and give you in very full measure His joy and His peace! For myself and for you, I pray that we may be more captivated with Him and His friendship. You know, I suppose, No. 565, "In the Secret of His Presence," in the 750 edition of Sankey. No. 328, "O Christ, in Thee my soul hath found," is one I like too, as being the expression of partly experience and partly aspiration. He is truly the true source of true satisfaction. May we be led to trust Him more largely in all the things of our lives! I am sure, too it will be the things where we have trusted Him most and been most consecrated in His service that we shall value most when we look back on life from the end. May you be largely satisfied with His blessing and Himself!'

'November 20, 1889.

'I wonder if your experience is anything like mine--that I have often got less benefit than I had hoped from special withdrawals from common surroundings to get more into the presence of the Lord.

One or two prominent instances of this have happened to me. I am glad He can be found anywhere, and that He is easy of access always with favourable or unfavourable surroundings.

'About feeling--never mind that at all. Things are so whether we feel them or not. Let us take G.o.d at His word, and not consider our feelings. G.o.d refuses no one who comes to Him in sincerity. Let us be sure of this. I once heard Spurgeon say a good thing: "When doubts or the devil comes and says, 'You are not saved; you are not right with G.o.d,' I go to Him and say, 'If I never came before, I come now; if I never trusted before, I trust now.'" That cuts off all doubts about the present as standing on the past, and gives a fresh start.

'All over the kingdom there is a hunger and thirst among many for a life of greater nearness to G.o.d; a feeling not only of the need of G.o.d being more of a daily, hourly reality and factor in our life, but that without Him more real and present life is not a satisfactory thing. When this feeling takes possession of one, we do not need to give up things as denying ourselves for Christ, so much as that we are changed in att.i.tude towards many things. We drift away from them. Things that were gain to us we count loss for Christ. Our aims are different. May our lives be more fully taken captive thus! To a life lived thus, death is not a breaking off of anything; it is an enlargement of sphere.'

'Hamilton: December 5, 1889.

'All I know about the process is just going to G.o.d and telling what I want, and asking to be allowed to have it. "Seek, and ye shall find; ask, and ye shall receive." I know no secret but this.... G.o.d understands His scholars, and knows how to teach each one.

Different scholars may require different ways. We may trust ourselves in His hands, only let us be earnest students. I have at different times been quite surprised how a book, or a friend, or a remark conveying just the teaching needed at the time has been brought into my way. Yes, none teach like Him.'

'_December 25, 1889._--Oh that we may be more completely given over and up to Him to be used at His pleasure and as He pleases! Oh for more faith in Him! My lads are, I think, enjoying themselves; I commit them to Him; but eh!'

'_January 1, 1890._--Just returned with my two lads after a day spent in London seeing my ship, the "Peshawur". The ship is full.

My berth is not in a good place--but it is not bad, after all, and it is not for long.... You'll have lots of need of wisdom, and Jesus is made unto us wisdom as well as other things.... He'll teach you all right. Don't let us refrain for fear we make mistakes. The greatest mistake we could make would be to do nothing....

'Everyone is amazed to see me look so well. It is remarked on all round. I feel remarkably well too....

'May G.o.d be pleased to use me in His service!'

His heart was in Mongolia. At the very earliest moment which the medical authorities and the Directors of the London Missionary Society would sanction he returned. He sailed for China on January 9, 1890. As the steamer was running down the English Channel he wrote a letter to an old college friend just returning to England whom he had not seen for twenty years, and whom he was very sorry to miss:--

'In answer to yours of November 19 I directed an envelope to you long ago. It has lain in my writing-case ever since, often seen but always taken precedence of by the thing that stepped in before.