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
God 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 Saturday
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 passages.
'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 God at His word, and not consider
our feelings. God 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 God,' 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 God; a feeling not only of the need of
God 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 attitude 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 God 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.... God
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 God 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.
Now's your turn. I'm sorry you'll not see me in England. I sailed
yesterday My health has been restored, and I am off again.
'You say you want reviving--Go direct to Jesus and ask it straight
out, and you'll get it straight away. This revived state is not a
thing you need to work yourself up into, or need others to help
you to rise into, or need to come to England to have operated upon
you--Jesus can effect it anywhere, and does effect it everywhere
whenever a man or woman, or men and women ask it. Ask and ye shall
receive.
'My dear brother, I have learned that the source of much blessing
is just to go to Jesus and tell Him what you need. I am delighted
to hear you say you need blessing, because I know there is plenty
and to spare with Jesus. Oh for an outpouring on all parts of the
L.M.S. missions!
'There is so much that I would like to say that it is hardly worth
while beginning to say anything; so I'll simply commend you to
Jesus in all His fulness.'
On January 21, 1890, when nearing Port Said, he wrote:--
'We have excellent company on board. Never had such a very pleasant
voyage. Some of the First Salooners come to our Bible readings.
Those who are unfriendly to Christianity are careful to give no
cause of offence and are polite. So far our voyage has been an
exquisite picnic. Knowing well what is before us, we still rejoice
in the present Elim and calmly trust for the future. I went on
board with a "tremendous cold." So did two or three others. Mine,
as I expected, went with the exposure.... No one teaches like Him
who also was the first of preachers. In daily, hourly, humble
communication with Him you will want for no wisdom and for no
guidance and for no shepherding. Rejoice in that you have Him to
manage everything for you.'
He reached Peking on March 14, 1890, and on March 24 started again for
Mongolia. He entered upon his last spell of work with a good heart and
with high hopes. Dr. Smith was to be his medical colleague. While in
England Mr. Gilmour had visited Cheshunt College, and had there fired
the heart of Mr. Parker with the desire and purpose of being his
colleague. He was looking forward to his speedy arrival. During his
absence in England Dr. Smith had paid one brief visit to Mongolia by
himself, and another, still briefer, in the company of the Rev. T.
Bryson of Tientsin. Meanwhile the work had been going on slowly and
steadily under the care of the native helper, Mr. Liu, and of some of
the converts. We now follow the story of this last year's work as it is
told in Mr. Gilmour's letters and reports. On May 9, 1890, he wrote to
the Rev. R. Wardlaw Thompson:--
'I have been all over the district, spending a month at Ch'ao Yang.
There we were privileged to baptize four adults, one a woman, and
one child, all Chinese. Two of these were young men who have been
under instruction for eight or nine months, and are very pleasing
cases indeed. The other two were a man and his wife, who is the
first woman who has had courage to be baptized in this district.
These last are an outcome of the medical work. They live in a small
hamlet where the first beginning of an interest in Christianity
took its rise from a man who came to me in the market-place with a
bad sore in his leg, which had been caused by a wound from his own
harvest sickle. The sore was cured, and friendly relations sprung
up with the whole hamlet, and I am thankful to hear that, though
only one family has put away its idols, all the neighbours are
friendly.
'In Ch'ao Yang there are several inquirers. Some of the Christians
give great satisfaction, others are not so satisfactory. One man, a
Christian, tells me that his wife was possessed by an evil spirit,
and to please her and cure her he had to allow the re-establishment
of the worship of that spirit for her benefit. No sooner was this
done than the woman was cured! Such things are firmly believed in
by the Chinese.
'A most pleasing incident in our experience at Ch'ao Yang was a
visit from a well-to-do farmer who lives some twenty li from the
town. He has been friendly and an inquirer from the first. He has
made no profession of Christianity, but says he reads his New
Testament regularly, and prays. He has also taught two men in his
neighbourhood. The one is a carpenter. The other is a farmer. They
know the Catechism, observe the Sunday, and meet with Mr. FÍng for
worship. Both of these men we saw, and their story seems true. FÍng
came and spent a day with us. I asked him why he did not make an
open profession of Christianity. His reply was that he lives with
his parents, as all Chinese do, and that he cannot arrange his
house disregarding them, who with his wife and children are still
heathen. He has been able only partially to do away with idols in
his own house. Outside too of his own house heathen pressure is so
great that, he says, were he to join Christianity it would be no
use for him to live! He says he lacks the courage single-handed to
meet all the persecution that would descend on him were he
baptized. Meantime he is instructing those about him in the hope,
apparently, that were there several together they could better
stand the trouble. It is an interesting case, but not at all
satisfactory. My hope about him is that, if he keeps conversant
with the Word of God, the Spirit may give him no rest till he has
courage to take his stand and make his confession.
'We had a splendid month in the market-place. Chinese and Mongols
in plenty, both to preach to and to heal. One Mongol betrayed a
most intimate and full knowledge of Christianity. The drought gave
good opportunity of speaking of many things, and in most cases we
had respectful attention. It was a _hard_ month's work. Seven till
noon or a little after was our market time; the afternoon private
patients, the evening inquirers, makes a very long day, which
begins at daylight and does not end till after the second watch of
the night has been set. The Chinese usually secure a rest just
after noon, but frequently just then some patient would turn up,
and put an end to quiet. In most cases the strain is relieved by
holidays through rain and storm; but even this was wanting this
time, so we had almost uninterrupted work.
'I am more than ever eager to have the medical work given over to a
medical man. One day in Ch'ao Yang a man came swaggering across the
open space in the marketplace. People pointed towards him and
laughed. He was laughable, the ridiculous part of him being a straw
hat which was an imitation, caricature rather, of a foreigner's
hat. I could not help laughing. It was no laughing matter, though.
He was a messenger from the cavalry camp just outside the town. He
had come to take me to treat two soldiers who had received
bullet-wounds in an encounter with Mongolian brigands. I had never
seen a bullet-wound in my life, but I knew I could do more for the
wounded men than any Chinese doctor; so I went. The wounds were
then forty-eight hours old, and I dressed them as best I could,
paying a daily visit for about a fortnight. Two wounds, though
deep, were merely flesh; with these I had no difficulty. The third
was a bone complication. I knew nothing of anatomy, had no books,
absolutely nothing to consult; what could I do but pray? And the
answer was startling. The third morning, when in the market-place
attending to the ordinary patients, but a good deal preoccupied
over the bone case, which I had determined should be finally dealt
with that day if possible at all, there tottered up to me through
the crowd a _live skeleton_, the outline of nearly every bone quite
distinct, covered only with yellow skin, which hung about in loose
folds. I think I see him yet--the chin as distinctively that of a
skeleton as if it had bleached months on the plain. The man was
about seventy, wore a pair of trousers, and had a loose garment
thrown over his shoulders. He came for cough medicine, I think; if
so, he got it; but I was soon engaged fingering and studying the
bone I had to see to that afternoon. I was deeply thankful, but
amidst all my gratitude the thing seemed so comical that I could
not help smiling, and a keen young Chinaman in the crowd remarked,
in an under tone, "That smile means something." So it did. It
meant, among other things, that I knew what to do with the wounded
soldier's damaged bone; and in a short time his wound was in a fair
way of healing. I was and am very thankful; but, after all, I am
more impressed than ever with the fact that things are badly out of
joint when there are lots of Christian doctors at home, and abroad
too, and I, knowledgeless, am left to do the doctoring in a large
district like this quite beyond the reach of medical help, not only
for the natives but even for myself should I need it.
'A grim commentary on these wounds was the fact that in leaving
Ch'ao Yang I was to pass through a brigand-infested district--so
badly infested that travellers have abandoned the road. As saith
the Scripture, "The highways were unoccupied, and the travellers
walked through byways." I had avoided this road twice, and was
ashamed to avoid it again, so we went straight through it. We saw
no one to harm us, but a week ago it was just as likely that I
should to-day have been lying on a Chinese kang, trying to dress my
own wounds, as that I should have been sitting here writing to you.
'I am at present waiting for Dr. Smith, whose last word to me,
dated Tientsin, April 9, was that I should either see him or hear
from him here between June 6 and 12.
'Yesterday, Sunday, June 8, had a pleasant day. The three
Christians here have grown. Two of them have been through a good
deal of trouble and stood it well. The farmer, who has been very
ill, guessing we would be here, came in and spent the day with us.
They seem very earnest.'
The beneficial result of the home visit of 1889 was very evident at this
time. It had arrested the 'running down,' from which he had severely
suffered. It had enabled him to renew old friendships, and to form new
ones. His wholehearted devotion to the difficult work of his life and
the wonderful intensity and depth of his faith had touched the hearts of
many faithful men and women at home, who gladly responded to his
oft-repeated request, 'Pray for me and for the conversion of the Chinese
and the Mongols.' He renewed his interest in the broad current of the
world's life. We have seen how some years previously he gave up all
reading but the Bible. Now, while he studied the Bible with all his old
eagerness, he had various newspapers sent to him, he rejoiced in the
receipt of books sent by friends--especially those bearing upon the
culture of the soul--and he kept his eye upon the religious and social
movements of the day.
The selections from his correspondence which follow illustrate these
changes in him. He modified his mode of life in Mongolia. Having given
up vegetarianism on his homeward voyage he did not resume it upon his
re-entrance on Mongol life. He remained a total abstainer, and his
hatred of opium, whisky, and tobacco continued as strong as ever,
although he did not now make abstinence from the two latter a test of
Church membership. He reserved more of the Sunday as a day of rest,
taking only the religious services with the Christians and inquirers,
and not, as formerly, setting up his tent on the street. The old
careworn look disappeared, his form regained much of its former life and
spring, and his face filled out, his smile resumed the brightness of
old, and the voice came back to a good deal of its early clearness. All
these evidences of a change for the better served to augur many years of
happy work. In a letter to a friend he playfully alludes to the twenty
or thirty years of labour yet remaining, and he often--half in jest and
half in earnest--asserted that life in the interior was so healthy that
he should probably outlive his fellow-workers at Tientsin and Peking.
By the mail that conveyed the letter quoted on page 263 he also wrote to
an Edinburgh friend:--
'Do you know Adolphe Monod's _Farewell_? It was sent to me lately
by Rev. C. New, of Hastings, an old Cheshunt fellow-student. I have
enjoyed it all, but most, I think, chapter xii., "Of Things not
seen." A volume of sermons, entitled _The Baptism of the Spirit,
and other Sermons_, by Mr. New, I have enjoyed intensely. To the
meek child-like spirit desiring the sincere nourishing of the Word
nothing, I think, could be more helpful.... If ever you send a book
to the boys, let it be one that will do their souls good.
'I may be filling my life too full, but between medical work and
spiritual work I have barely time to sleep, and I find that, for
any hope of continuance of work, I must have time to sleep. For the
last month I have been getting up at 4.30 A.M., and our evening
worship and after conversation was not over till, say, 9 or 9.15
or 9.30, or even, once or twice, till 10 P.M. Then it would take us
some time to square up the day's affairs, and spread out my
bedding. In the daytime I used to bolt my door, determined on an
hour's quiet; but often this was in vain. I would hear some poor
cultivator come for medicine; he had a long way to go home, and I
could not but let him in and attend to him.
'Yesterday, as no one knew we were here, I escaped at 5.30 and made
for the hot springs, twelve miles away. I walked there and back,
and in consequence to-day am lame on my feet--badly blistered. I
had a grand day--so quiet. Going, I sat down behind a mud wall and
read the four first chapters of Hebrews. Arrived, I had my bath,
then got an empty room in an inn, had sleep, dinner, tea, and read
the rest of Hebrews. I never saw so much in Hebrews before.... On
the road I had a four-mile conversation with a farmer, who finally
said he believed Christianity was true. We have baptized six in all
since I returned, five adults and one child--_all Chinese_. "Be not
weary in well-doing. In due time we shall reap, if we faint not."
We are on God's side. God has need of us. Oh let us be such as God
can take pleasure in! Faithfulness and love to Him are what He
wants. Surely we can let Him have these two. Oh that it might be
that everyone in every contact with us might feel the spiritual
touch! Would not this be ideal Christian life? May He work it in
us!
'Have you been to any Salvation Army efforts? I always felt better
for going, but latterly did not go much--I could not stand the
"row." I am eager that you should identify yourself with some
soul-saving agency. If it really is a soul-saving concern, I don't
think it matters very much what it is.'
On July 21, 1890, he wrote to the same friend:--
'Since July 3 we have had most extraordinary weather for this
part--rain and dull; there have been only four or five days when I
could go on to the street with my tent. I am therefore not so busy.
In addition, Dr. Smith has joined me, and as he does all the indoor
medical work, I am still less busy, and so I can write you more at
leisure than usual.
'The rain reached a climax on Saturday night, July 19. Till then,
roofs and walls held out well. There were leaks in places, but
nothing serious. We thought it had cleared off. Not a bit of it.
The wind changed, it is true, but then rain came down in torrents,
the ceilings--all reeds and paper--began to give way. Ever and anon
splash came a bag of water, as the paper burst in different places,
and Dr. Smith and I had a lively time of it shifting our boxes and
bedding to dry spots. By dusk it was serious. I was just about my
wits' end when a Chinaman put his head into my room, and said with
a grin, half in jest, half in earnest, "There is a tent standing
idle out in that room, why not put it up in your room?" The idea of
putting up a tent in your bedroom seemed so absurd that we had a
good laugh over it; but after thinking over it awhile, and thinking
out how the thing could be done, we actually did it. It covered
two-thirds of my kang, and a little space on the floor where I put
my boxes. The inner corner of the tent I put up to cover my stock
of books and medicines, lit my lamp, brewed a pot of tea, and,
squatting on my feet, called in Dr. Smith. He said I looked "just
like an opium-smoker." Dr. Smith had a portable iron bedstead. On
the top he put floor mats and a waterproof, and, without
undressing, we went to bed. After a little a great crash was heard.
Some part of the buildings had come down. In the rain and dark it
was not easy to see what it was, but we at last found there had
been more noise than real damage. We were thankful when day
dawned.
'The Chinese suffered much more than we did. Such a rain happens so
seldom--once in three or four or five years--that houses are not
roofed to resist it; the Chinese deeming it cheaper to take the
wetting than to spend the extra money it would take to make the
house stand such an extra rain.
'In the wet weather I have been going into the Chinese Psalms, and
have been much struck with the happy state of those who "fear the
Lord," "trust in the Lord," and who, under a variety of
expressions, are described as being on the Lord's side, and under
His protection.
'And all these promises we can take for ourselves. Did you see in
_The Christian_ some time ago a story from Annan, of an old woman
who was on the point of being sold out for not paying her rent? She
had no money. Her son was in America. A neighbour, thinking it
strange that her son had not sent her money, asked to see her
letters. There was one with a Post-office Order for 7_l._ 10_s._ in
it. She had had it for some time, but thought it was only a
picture. When cashed she was in funds. Wasn't she a stupid old
woman? To be bankrupt, with an uncashed P.O. Order in her
possession! How often we are much more stupid than she! To be
fearful, anxious, troubled, cast down, when we have all the
promises of God in our possession, ready for our use.
'Let us cash our cheques. Nay, we have not only God's promises, but
God Himself for our portion. Why should we be spiritually bankrupt?
'Another thing I notice is the difference subjective states make in
reading the Psalms. Sometimes I go over a Psalm and see little in
it. At another time I go over the same Psalm and find it full of
richness. How important it is to have the light of the Holy Spirit
in our Scripture reading!'
'_July 30._--The little _Wordless Book_ you sent soon fell into the
hands of a Chinese convert, who asked to be allowed to carry it
off. He wants to speak from it. He likes it because it gives him
_carte blanche_, and lets him say just what he likes....
'How full the Psalms are! These days I am going through them in
Chinese, as I said; I take one each morning and commit some verses
of it carefully. Then, during the day, as time permits, I read a
few more. How one the soul of man is! When dull and cold and dead,
and feeling as if I could not pray, I turn to the Psalms. When most
in the spirit, the Psalms meet almost all the needs of expression.
And yet deluded men talk of the Bible as the outcome of the Jewish
mind! The greatest proof of the Divine source of the book is that
it fits the soul as well as a Chubb's key fits the lock it was made
for.... Now I am off to the street with my tent.'
'Mongolia: July 28, 1890.
'My dear Meech,--Dr. Smith came here July 2. The rains set in
immediately on his arrival, and we _have_ had it since. The
spiritual rain has not come yet, nor are there any signs of it.
When it does come may it come like the physical rain! Glad to see
you have been having some. May you have much more! Make the valley
full of ditches, brother, and then look out for the flood. Do you
think we'll be able to go up to Him at last and say, "We did our
part, but you did not do yours, Lord"? Eh, man! Elijah called down
fire with a short prayer, but his servant made six vain journeys to
the summit only to return with the discouraging news--nothing. May
the good Lord, who knows our frame and remembers we are dust, give
us a little now and again, at any rate, if only to keep us going
meantime! Eh, man! there will be no lack on His part. He'll shine
up all right, not only to perform, but to succour His servants who
trust in Him.'
'July 28, 1890.
'My dear Owen,--I know worry should be an unknown element in a
believer's experience. I am eager to have done with it. I thank Him
for much of its absence. But dissatisfaction with the present state
of things is not worry, but legitimate soul-longing, and the death
of that would be a bad thing.
'I can hardly tell how I am; Since Dr. Smith came I have taken
little note of inward things or outward either. It is very pleasant
to have him here, and as the best sign of digestion is not to know
one has a stomach or a digestion, is the best sign of spiritual
health not to know one has a soul at all? I wonder is this so? His
presence has made a difference. Duty has kept me living quietly in
good lodgings, with only such work as I can easily do without any
over-rush, and the prospect of another month like it! I fear I am
not such company to him as he is to me.
'We have had terrible rains; the rivers were not crossed for five
or six days, and, even after that, two men were swept away on two
separate days--four men, in all, from this one town alone.
'I know you pray for us here. Eh, man! if the thing would move, if
the rain would come! "_As the eyes of servants_," etc. (Psalms
cxxiii., cxxvi.). I often read these Psalms together. And then I
think what would please me best as a master would be to see my
servant going ahead, energetically, and faithfully, and loyally
with his work, not moping about downcast. Then is not this what God
wants in us? So here goes cheerily and trustfully.'
'August 10, 1890.
'I cannot say God gives me all the victories I want, but He keeps
me in peace and faith, and that is not a little thing. My
devotional reading lately has taken the form of the Chinese Psalms,
and Schereschewsky's high Chinese notwithstanding (for which may he
be forgiven), they are very refreshing and strong. How like are the
heart-longings and soul-breathings of the old Judean hunted
outlaw--brigand, if you like to call him so--to the heart and soul
feelings of the educated Occidental of the nineteenth century! Poor
old Moses, another outlaw, what a battered old life he led, but
what a grand soul, and how wonderfully he outlived it all, and was
quite hale when called to die! How his people troubled him!--so
like the Chinese. Fancy Moses going up the mountain to die alone.
It is so nice to have a later glimpse of him in the New Testament
alongside of Elijah, who too was once under a cloud. God does not
keep up things. "As far as the east is from the west, so far hath
He removed our transgressions from us." Love to all.
'JAMES GILMOUR.'
'Ch'ao Yang, August 19, 1890.
'My dear Sons,--I have just got here after a very hard journey of
four days. It is summer and the rains are on; the roads are very
bad.
'Our first adventure was in a deep narrow gully going up a
mountain. We met a cart coming down. There was no room to pass and
no room to turn back. What were we to do? One of the carts had to
be pulled up the bank. Neither would go up. Both carters sat and
looked at each other. Our cart was heavy, the other cart was light.
After looking at each other awhile the other cart was pulled up and
our carter helped him down again after we had passed.
'Our next adventure was in a river. The leading mule sank in a
quicksand. The carter, shoes and all, jumped into the water; in a
few seconds I had stripped all but a cinglet and pants, and was in
the river too. We got out after a little while.
'Next day we stuck in a quagmire. We hitched the mules to the tail
of the cart, pulled it out, then dug a new road in the side of the
ravine and got past.
'The third day we upset our cart in a very muddy place early in the
morning, and got caught in a thunder-shower in the afternoon. The
fourth day we stuck in a mud-hole half a mile from the end of our
journey, and when we got to our inn found our rooms in possession
of a crowd of people doing a wedding.
'One thing made the journey very pleasant: it was this. Just as we
were starting, one of the Christians, a Chinese farmer, but a man
who is poor and dresses and eats very poorly, came and gave me two
tiao, about 3_s._ 2_d._, to give to God. I was so glad to see him
do it, and no doubt God was glad too. Then at the end of the
journey, when we were stuck in the mud-hole and could not get out,
up came one of the Christians, took off his stockings and shoes,
went into the mud and helped us out. The country was very beautiful
all the way--just at its best.'
In a letter to another correspondent he depicts what is involved in
Chinese travelling during the wet season:--
'The last thing we had to do was to make a journey of eighty miles.
You would soon do that in England. Here, in August, it is no easy
matter. It is just the time when, on account of the rains, no one
should travel, and no one does travel who can help it. Carts would
not go. I had to find my way home from a cart inn the night before
we started along a newly rained-on muddy Chinese street in the
dark. Next day I had much brightness shed on the journey by one of
the Chinese Christians--a poor man with, oh, so poor a
coat--giving a donation to print Christian books. It amounted to
about $1.00 (one dollar) in all, but it meant a lot of self-denial
to him; and as I passed, a little later, the drought-parched
district where he lived, and looked at the poor fields, I wondered
where he got the money. I suppose God gave him the heart to give
it. Starting a journey with such a bit of light made it cheery.
'We travelled at those eighty miles four days, and rested one
Sabbath, five days in all. Within three-quarters of a mile of the
end of our journey our cart stuck in a mud-hole. We had passed,
shortly before, the cottage of a Christian, and, after we had been
some half-hour or more in that hole, this Christian suddenly
appeared on the scene. He is a great fellow for being neat and
clean. In a few moments he was in the mud, ordering about the
carter, shouting at the mules, and lifting at the stern of the
cart. Even the mules felt there was some new factor added to the
problem. They made a new effort and out the cart came. Would you
credit it? A cart had been upset there some days before; it was
said they had lost some thirty shillings in silver. The natives,
hoping to find the money, literally dug up the highway and left a
pit there. We did not know this, thought it was an ordinary pool,
and drove straight into it. The Christian touch at the beginning of
the journey, and the little Christian adventure at the end, made
the journey and its remembrance quite pleasant.
'I am now reading Moule's _Veni Creator_, which came a few days
ago. What helps me most just at present is the Psalms. I take a few
verses every morning (almost), and learn off the Chinese
translations of them. I never knew there was so much in the Psalms
before. I believe that even at the end of a long life, this
(discovery of more and more in God's Word) will hold true of all
the Bible, and then for the beyond there is the Inexhaustible
Himself--satisfaction for the present and plenty for the future.
'The endless sorrows and sufferings of this people here come home
much to me. I see much of their bodily suffering, and in some
feeble measure bear their sorrows and carry their griefs without
being able to relieve them much. How dead and dark they are to
things spiritual!'
Dr. Smith, who spent some weeks with Mr. Gilmour during this summer, has
sent the following most interesting sketch of his daily life at this
period. They were together for the most part at T· Ss[)u] Kou.
'He always got up at daylight, folded up bedding, and then began
reading. About six a man arrived, selling hot millet and bean
porridge. He bought two bowls of this for early breakfast. He
continued reading Chinese, generally aloud; and when he came to a
difficult word he repeated it again and again, in order to impress
it upon his memory. About eight he had breakfast, consisting of
Chinese rolls and a cup of cocoa.
'At nine he went to the street with his tent, Mr. Liu, the native
preacher, accompanying him. One of the inn-servants assisted the
latter in carrying tent and medicine boxes and in erecting same.
The tent was erected in a broad street at the back of our inn,
where a daily market was held. The medicine boxes were placed on a
little table, in front of which stood a wooden form and another at
the side. The patients were seated on these. Any difficult cases
were sent to the inn to be treated by me. On the table were also a
number of copies of various tracts and portions of Scripture. Mr.
Gilmour dispensed medicines, talked and preached as the opportunity
offered.
'About one he returned to the inn, and had dinner, consisting of
meat, etc., which was bought at a Chinese cook-shop. About three
we generally took a walk to the country. We used to go out to look
at the various crops, and Mr. Gilmour would chat away to one and
another whom we met on the road. He was generally recognised, and
in the most friendly way. I have a very pleasant recollection of
these times; often our conversation would turn to home, to our boys
and friends. Sometimes he would tell me about his student friends,
while at other times he used to tell me of his deputation work at
home, and about the various people he had met there.
'Often a gentleman would come up and ask, "Where are you going?" to
which Mr. Gilmour would reply, "We are cooling ourselves; we are
going nowhere." It was always a mystery to people what we could
possibly mean by taking walks to the country. One day two lads
followed us for some miles across some low hills, anxious to know
our business, and getting well laughed at by their friends, poor
fellows, on their return to the town.
'One thing about Mr. Gilmour always impressed me deeply--his
wonderful knowledge of the little touches of Chinese politeness,
and his wonderful power of observation. He loved the
Chinese--looked upon them and treated them as brothers, and was a
man who lived much in prayer; and in this lay his great power as a
missionary.
'When he met a Mongol he would exchange a few words of Mongol with
him, and it was wonderful to see the man's face light up as he
heard his own tongue. All the Mongols knew that he could speak
their language, and as one of the few who did.
'As we returned to the town and were walking along the street, many
of the passers-by would bow; and here and there a shopkeeper would
give him a friendly bow. Sometimes he would buy a few peaches or
apples, and not unfrequently he would give a sweetmeat vendor two
cash for two sweets, handing one to me.
'About half-past four we returned to the inn, and then, as a rule,
some people would be there waiting to see him. Mr. Sun, the
box-maker, used often to come to read the Scriptures with Mr.
Gilmour, and then they would discuss various points; Mr. Sun giving
his opinion, and then Mr. Gilmour putting him right. Sometimes an
outsider would drop in, and then, not unfrequently, Mr. Sun would
talk to him about the Gospel.
'About six Mr. Gilmour had some cocoa and bread. At the time of the
lighting of the candles Mr. Gilmour had made it a rule for the
Christians to assemble for evening prayers, and, accordingly, they
all turned up then. A Chinese table was placed in the centre of Mr.
Gilmour's room, and three wooden forms were placed round the table
for the accommodation of the preacher and the Christians. Mr.
Gilmour and I used to sit on chairs at the vacant side of the
table. On the table stood two Chinese candlesticks, each surmounted
by a Chinese candle. A Chinese candle is made from the castor bean,
and is fixed to the candlestick by running the iron pin on the
latter into a hollow straw in the end of the candle. Then we also
had a Chinese oil lamp. The upper vessel is simply a little
earthenware saucer, containing a little oil, and in it lie some
threads of cotton (a cotton wick). This is made to project over the
edge of the saucer and is then lighted. The lower part of the lamp
is simply an earthenware receptacle, in which the oil for
replenishing the lamp is kept, and, while in use, the little lamp
is supported in it. This often used to remind me of the parable of
the virgins, and in reading that parable by the light of such a
lamp one is able to make it very realistic to Chinamen.
'Our evening worship consisted in first singing a hymn, Mr. Gilmour
leading. Then Mr. Gilmour offered up a short prayer; after which we
read a chapter either in the Old or New Testament, reading verse
about. Each man had a copy of the Scriptures. Then Mr. Gilmour
gave a little address on the chapter; after which we had another
prayer--one of the Christians being asked this time. Then another
hymn and the benediction.
'Usually one or more of the Christians would remain chatting with
Mr. Gilmour. As soon as they had gone we had a cup of cocoa
together. Then Mr. Gilmour and I used to have evening prayers
together. He used to read a chapter from a little book by Mr.
Moule, and then we both prayed.
'After this we used to sit chatting together until bedtime, and so
ended a day.'
In August 1890 Dr. Smith lost his wife, who as Miss Philip had become
known and beloved by a large number of friends of the London Missionary
Society, both in Great Britain and Australia. He had also become so ill
that the ensuing weakness, together with the great shock of his wife's
sudden loss, compelled him, early in 1891, to return to England on a
visit. Before doing so he was able to take Mr. Parker, the young and
active colleague appointed to assist Mr. Gilmour, out to Mongolia,
reaching T· Ss[)u] Kou on December 5. Greatly encouraged by the arrival
of his young helper, Mr. Gilmour was grievously disappointed by the
enforced return of Dr. Smith, and the indefinite postponement of the
hospital scheme that was so near to his heart, and upon which he always
asserted, in his judgment, the ultimate success of the mission depended.
But discipline of this kind only drove him back more entirely upon God.
In a letter to Mr. Owen, dated December 29, 1890, he writes:--
About myself I have lots to be thankful for. I am mostly in the
light, sometimes very sweetly. Sometimes, though, it is cold and
dark; but I just hold on, and it is all right. Romans viii. I find
good reading in dull spiritual weather, and the Psalms too are
useful. When I feel I cannot make headway in devotion, I open at
the Psalms and push out in my canoe, and let myself be carried
along in the stream of devotion which flows through the whole book.
The current always sets towards God, and in most places is strong
and deep. These old men--eh, man! they beat us hollow, with all our
New Testament and all our devotional aids and manuals. And yet I
don't know. In the old time there were giants--one here and there.
Now there are many nameless but efficient men of only ordinary
stature.
'Brother, let us be faithful. That is what God wants. What He
needs. What He can use. I was greatly struck by one saying of Mrs.
Booth's. It will not be so very different there (in heaven) to what
it is here. I guess she is right. I guess there will be differences
of occupation there as here, and I guess that our life here is a
training for life and work there. Oh the mystery! How thin a wall
divides it from us! How well the secret has been kept from of old
till now! May the richest blessings be on you and yours and your
work!
'Yours affectionately,
'JAMES GILMOUR.'
The year 1891 found Mr. Gilmour hard at work as usual, in good health
and spirits, and with the hope and apparently the prospect of many years
of service before him. And yet, just as the summer was beginning, he was
called to the presence of the King, and to the perfect work and
fellowship of 'the Church of the firstborn.' Had he been able to choose
his fate he would hardly have wished it other than it was. His work in
Mongolia was steadily growing; slowly, it is true, but yet gaining a
strength and impetus that will abide, and has well begun the conquest of
Mongolia for Christ. Though practically without a medical colleague, and
actually without the hospital for which he had so toiled and prayed, he
was cheered and strengthened by the constant presence and fellowship of
Mr. Parker. His letters are all in a cheery and buoyant strain, and,
although referring not unfrequently to the future life, without a hint
or a suspicion that he was in any degree conscious of the rapid way in
which the days of his earthly life were running out. In a letter to Mr.
Thompson, dated January 7, he says, 'You will be glad to hear I am in
good health and spirits.'
To Mr. Owen he wrote on March 2:--
'Does God not mean to have a medical man here? I wonder! Wondering,
I tell Him as I tell you, and try to leave it with Him, and in very
great part _do_ leave it to Him too. It is good to have His calm
mercy and help. How's your soul, brother? I'll tell you how mine
is--eager to experience more of the Almighty power inworking
inside. Eager to be more transformed. Less conformed to the world.
Eager to touch God more, and have Him touch me more, so that I can
feel His touch.
'I am distressed at so few conversions here. But again sometimes
very fully satisfied in believing I am trying to do His will. That
makes me calm. I am scared at our property venture, but again trust
in God, and the fears subside. The world to come, too, sometimes
looms up clear as not far distant, and the light that shines from
that makes things seem different a good deal.'
From other letters that remain we catch glimpses of the course of his
action and thought during these last weeks. During the year 1869 he met
in Edinburgh Mrs. Swan, the widow of one of the pioneers of the Mongol
Mission of 1817 to 1841, and that interview gave the chief direction to
the work of his life. In March 1891 he heard of Mrs. Swan's death, and
he wrote to Miss Cullen, her niece, the following letter:--
'I sent you a post-card acknowledging receipt of your kind letter
of December 10, saying that Mrs. Swan had passed away on November
22. I had not heard, and just then I had not time to write. I am
now at the east end of my district, three days' journey from where
the mail reached me.
'I am much moved to think that letter to me was her last. And there
is a fitness that it should be so. "Baptized for the dead," as the
phrase is. In some sense I am successor to her work, and it was not
out of keeping that her last letter should have been to the field
which all along had such a large place and keen interest in her
heart, where so many more good works found a place. I often think
of all the kindness and friendship I have experienced at her hands,
both on my visits to Edinburgh and through letters. Missionaries
miss such lives much when they are removed. I need not speak to
you, who knew her so well, of what a charming hostess she made, and
of how, even in her old age, all her great and abiding earnestness
had running through it all so much happy Scotch humour.
'I had no idea Mrs. Swan was so old. Eighty-one, she did not look
old except about the last time I saw her, and then I had no idea
her age was so great. She has gone; but for many years to come, if
I am spared, I shall from time to time revisit her in her house in
Edinburgh, and see her at the table with the quiet Jane moving
noiselessly around, or see her seated at her desk in the corner,
writing letters. Remember me very kindly to your father--fit
brother for such a sister. Their separation cannot be very long at
the longest. For that matter of it, those of us who are here
longest must soon be gone, and when the going comes, or looms
before us, let us look not at the going, but at the being _there_.'
Having paid considerable attention to the work and methods of the
Salvation Army, the publication of _In Darkest England_ interested him
greatly, and on March 9 he sent in a letter the following trenchant
criticism, all the more noteworthy because of his strong sympathy with
much in the Army that others find it hard to accept.
'Got here Saturday. Had a good Sunday with the Christians. To-day
it snowed, and thus we have had time to put our house in order. I
have read Booth's scheme in the _Review of Reviews_. I am greatly
puzzled. It is _so_ far a departure from Booth's principle of doing
spiritual work only. It reads well, but Booth must know just as
well as I do that much of the theory will never work in practice.
What I dislike most in it is, it is in spiritual things doing
exactly what it attempts to do in secular things--namely, it
threatens to swallow up in a great holy syndicate no end of smaller
charities which have been and are working efficiently. Again, the
finally impenitent are to be cast off. Yes, that is just the rub.
It will leave the good-for-nothings, many of them cast out as
before. Nor will Booth's despotism do in the long run. But I am for
the scheme and for old Booth too; but, nevertheless, there is both
a limit and an end to all despotism and despotisms. But I am more
favourable to the scheme than these words would seem to indicate.'
Mr. Parker, who bids fair to be a successor after Gilmour's own heart,
in his first report of his experiences in Mongolia gave a bright and
hopeful view of his colleague.
'On arriving at T· Ss[)u] Kou we found Gilmour very well indeed;
looking better than he did when I saw him in England. He was
jubilant over our coming, and it has been a great source of
happiness to me to know that God's sending me here has up till now
given happiness and comfort to one of His faithful servants. I have
had a slight taste of being left alone, and I must confess Gilmour
has had something to endure during the last few years.
'We are living in hired rooms of an inn. Gilmour is not in this
courtyard. I have been alone here with my Chinese boy for the last
five weeks (Dr. Smith being in Ch'ao Yang until a few days ago). I
have been unable to get a proper teacher at present. Gilmour's
student has been teaching me. He speaks distinctly. With him I have
made very fair progress. I hope in a few days to secure a proper
teacher.
'Another thing which has taught me a good amount of the Chinese I
know is having to give orders to my Chinese boy in house-keeping
generally. I am thankful to God for past experiences in my life,
though they were rather rough; for here I find they come in very
usefully. I had to teach my boy how to cook and do things
generally. It was rather an amusing piece of work, seeing that I
knew nothing of the language. Each order I gave him was a comedy in
two or three acts, all played out in dumb show. In telling him what
I wished purchased I was obliged to imitate sounds which are
peculiar to certain beasts and birds, which when he understood, he
announced that fact by opening wide his eyes and emitting a loud
"Ah!" which was generally followed by the name of the thing
indicated bellowed forth at the top of his voice as if I were
deaf. Also he in turn, when he had anything to tell me, always
stood in the centre of the room and went through a whole
performance. On one occasion, when he wished to tell me that a
certain dog had stolen the day's meat, the performance was so
amusing that, when he had got through, I asked him what he was
trying to say, in order that I might once more see the fun.
'Forgive me for taking up your time with such frivolous things. But
I have picked up much of the language in that way, although at the
cost of being grimed with soot and burning my fingers. All that is
now past, and the boy is very useful, and, although now a heathen,
I am hoping that by my influence he may be led to know the love of
Jesus Christ. I am very glad that I came straight out here. I am
sure I shall learn the language (of the _people_, perhaps _not_ of
the _books_) better than in the frontier cities. I am constantly
forced to try and speak. Every day I have some visitors here whom I
must try and entertain. I feel stupid at times with them, and
perhaps they think I am; but, nevertheless, each day's experience
is adding to my vocabulary. And when so learnt, I know that people
will understand me when I speak.
'Gilmour is doing a valuable work. Every day he goes to the street
and sets out his table with his boxes of medicines and books. He
has three narrow benches, on one of which he sits, the other two
being for his patients. Of the latter he has any amount, coming
with all the ills to which humanity is heir. It is a busy street,
not of the best repute, for it is where all the traders in
second-hand clothes and dealers in marine stores spread out their
wares.
'For some weeks I went out at a certain hour to take care of
Gilmour's stand while he went and got a "refresher" in the shape of
some indigestible pudding made of millet-flour with beans for
plums. He generally left me with a patient or two requiring some
lotion in the eye or some wound to dress. Then I, being a
new-comer and a typical "foreign devil" (being red of hair and in
complexion), always brought a large following down the street with
me, and attracted a great crowd round the stand. At first it was
not pleasant to sit there and be stared at without being able to
speak to them; but after a while I got very interested in the
different faces that came round. On one occasion I noticed the
crowd eagerly discussing something among themselves, giving me a
scrutinising look now and then. Now and again one would turn to his
fellow and rub his finger across his upper lip as if he was feeling
for his moustache. I had only been here a week or so then, and knew
very little of the language; but I listened attentively, and at
last I heard them speaking the Chinese numerals, and then it all
dawned upon me that they were inquiring about and discussing my
age; so I up with my fingers indicating the years of my pilgrimage.
I never saw a crowd so amused. "Ah, ah!" they said, and opened
their eyes, highly delighted that I was able to tell them what they
wanted to know. Then I had my turn, and, pointing to a man here and
there in the crowd, I used what little of Chinese I had in guessing
their ages.
'But the sights of misery, suffering, and wretchedness which gather
round Gilmour's stand are simply appalling. His work seems to me to
come nearest to Christ's own way of blessing men. Healing them of
their wounds, giving comfort in sickness, and at the same time
telling them the gospel of Eternal Salvation through Jesus Christ.
One day that I went I found Gilmour tying a bandage on a poor
beggar's knee. The beggar was a boy about sixteen years of age,
entirely naked, with the exception of a piece of sacking for a loin
cloth. He had been creeping about, almost frozen with cold, and a
dog (who, no doubt, thought he was simply an animated bone) had
attacked him.
'The people here are desperately poor, and the misery and
suffering one sees crawling through the streets every day is
heart-rending. I have not a doubt that I am in a real mission
field, and thank God that He has given me the opportunity to do
something towards alleviating some of this misery. But what about
the work as regards the saving of souls and establishing of a
Church? I can only speak of the work in T· Ss[)u] Kou. It is in its
initiatory stage. All the Christians and adherents can sit round
the four sides of my table. But I am highly pleased with them.'
The letters of this period have a very tender and sacred association for
all who received them, since they reached England after the telegraphic
tidings of James Gilmour's death had brought sorrow to his many friends.
They came, in a sense, like a message from one 'within the veil.' Some
of these refer to the books he was reading, and from which he had
derived benefit; some depict phases of his experience; some bear
directly upon his work and its needs; all possess the solemn value and
are read in the clearer light imparted to them by Death.
The first was written to one of his brothers.
'Do you know _In the Volume of the Book_, by Dr. Pentecost? It is A
1. I have just read it. It is not a dear book. Read it, man, by all
means. It gives zest to the old Bible. I am reading through the New
Testament at about the rate of a gospel a day, or two epistles.
Rapid reading has advantages. Close study of minute portions has
other advantages. All sorts of reading are valuable. Go for your
Bible, brother. There is no end more in it than ever you or I have
yet seen. I am going for it both in Chinese and English, and it
pays as nothing else does. In Jesus is all _fulness_. Supply
yourself from Him. May the richest blessings be on you from Him!
Heaven's ahead, brother. Hurrah!'
The next was to the Edinburgh correspondent from whose letters we have
previously taken extracts.
'This mail was sent off February 2. It came back the same day. The
man was scared by robbers. He leaves to-morrow. We are well. We are
_idle_. Would you believe it? It is Chinese New Year time, and I
cannot go on the street with my stand. No people: soon will be. We
are thankful for the rest. It won't last long.... Oh, it is good to
have Jesus to tell all to. May He be more of an intimate friend to
you and to me! The troubles of this earthly life are not few. How
many were Paul's! I am reading Farrar's _Life and Work of Paul_. It
puts much new light on the epistles. What a time the man Paul had
of it! Yet he called them "light afflictions." How much lighter are
ours! And the same heaven he looked to is for us--the same
crown--not to him only, but to all who love the appearing of
Christ. You love Him. Rejoice and be glad. I _am_ so glad that the
crown is not only for such as Paul, whom we cannot hope to imitate,
but for those (ii. Timothy iv. 8) who have loved His appearing. We
_do_ that, don't we? May the joy set before us enable us to endure,
when endurance is needed! May your heart rest in Him! May your soul
cling to Him! May His light always shine on your path! May I
always, even in dark days and dark times, have His light in my
heart and soul! Don't regard me as one always on the sunny heights,
but as one often cast down, often in much feebleness, in much
unworthiness, and falling so far short of my own ideal. But it is
good to think that, in Christ, we are perfect, that He makes up
all.
'Parker and I read _Holy of Holies_, when together. It is a good
book. Meantime, he and I are three days' journey separate, and may
be so for a month to come yet. I hope he likes it. It is a little
hard on him, but I had to come here on mission business, and, if
needed, will return to him at any time. Looking again at Heb. vi.
4-6.'
His correspondent had asked him about this passage.
'It is said--it is impossible to "renew them again to repentance."
Does it not seem clear that what is described cannot be the case of
one who has the repentant heart? I think so decidedly, and that
passage has no bearing on the sinner who repents.... No one will
come to harm who commits himself to His keeping. And no one will
lack leading who has God for his guide. If I could only hear of or
from the friends I pray for, that they had given themselves over to
God's keeping, I would be at rest and thankful. You are trusting in
Him. You will not be ashamed. He will take care to supply every
needed blessing at the right time and in the right way.
'Some day, I believe we shall stand in Eternity and look back on
Time. How ashamed we then shall be of any want of trust and of any
unfaithfulness! May He help us to look at things now in _that_
light, and how to do as we then shall wish we had done!...
'I would be glad if you would send me half a dozen copies of the
_Wordless Book_. Two copies fell into the hands of robbers and were
thus lost....
'I shall be glad to have the _Life of Faith_. You might mark any
passages that strike you.'
In a letter to the Rev. J. Paterson, dated April 1, he writes:--
'It helps me much out here to get the best consecrated literature,
and to get it early. Men in the most difficult and dangerous fields
should be the best armed and equipped. Some of these books open up
new treasures to me in God's Word. I do not use them in place of
God's Word, but as openers to the treasures.'
In almost the last letter from him received by his brother Alexander and
dated April 24, 1891, the following passage occurs:--
'_The Practice of the Presence of God_, being conversations and
letters of Brother Lawrence. Please send a copy to yourself, John,
Matthew, Paterson, Miss Gowan, and ten copies to me, charging all
costs to me, of course. It is by a Roman Catholic: don't imitate
his Roman Catholicism, but his practice of the presence of God.'
In April Mr. Gilmour journeyed to Tientsin, and was unanimously elected
to preside over the annual meeting of the North China District Committee
of the London Missionary Society as chairman. His last communication to
the home Society, with the exception of one brief note upon a matter of
committee business, was a post-card, dated April 20, 1891, received in
London some weeks after the tidings of his death. It runs:--
'Arrived here yesterday. The world keeps shrinking. Left T· Ss[)u]
Kou Monday 8 A.M. Tuesday noon dined in a border Mongol village, in
a Mongol's inn, served by a Mongol waiter, in presence of a number
of Mongols. Got to London Missionary Society's Compound, Tientsin,
Saturday, 5 P.M. Our headquarters are just five days from the
extended railway. Am in A 1 health, everybody says so here, and
that truly. Meantime am in clover, physically and spiritually. With
prayers for the home end of the London Missionary Society's work.
'Yours truly,
'J. GILMOUR.'
Just thirty-one days later he was lying dead in the same compound. How
the interval passed is told by those who enjoyed those closing days of
lofty spiritual fellowship. Had it been foreseen that the end was so
near, the fervour and impressiveness and help of his presence could
hardly have been increased. Before, however, passing to the details of
this last month, the following letters are given _in extenso_ as they
form the last lengthy sketches of his work drawn by his own hand.
'Tientsin, L.M.S.: April 20, 1891.
My dear Mrs. Lovett,--I guess you are at the bottom of 10_l._ from
Clapham Congregational Church Working Society (Ladies). Ar'n't you?
If so, thanks. If not--I was going to say you ought to be--but my
courage fails me. Anyhow, you can read and please forward the
enclosed with my best thanks to the friends. I got here two days
ago, and am here for a short time. The railway has gone out
eastwards, is still going, and has now a station near me in
Mongolia--near me being five long days' journey; but that is near,
as near and far go here.
'I have many grateful and many prayerful remembrances of England
and English friends, and a vivid remembrance of your kindness when
I was with you. My regards to your parents. I hope you and your
husband and children are all well. I heard of Mr. Lovett being in
America--_American Pictures_ on the stocks?
'I had intended to write you a nice letter, but it won't come, and
the letter must go as it is. Please read into the remaining blank
sheet all the feelings and good wishes I should express and do
feel, and next time I write you, may it not be in the ebb tide, at
the end of a mail.
'Your husband's a Director. I _do_ hope they are sending me a
doctor. If he can do anything in the matter, I wish he would.
'Yours, dried up and feeling dumb,
'JAMES GILMOUR.'
Enclosed in the above was the following letter, dated March 10, and
addressed to 'The Clapham Congregational Church Ladies' Working
Society.'
'Dear Friends,--Many thanks for your handsome donation (10_l._),
notice of which has reached me last night. I am told you want to
hear from me. All right. I am just back from a month's raid into
Ch'ao Yang. Had a fine time. Good weather and plenty of work in the
marketplace. Baptized four adults, three being women--all Chinese.
It is the day of small things truly, but I am not a little
encouraged, over the women especially. That now makes four
Christian families in Ch'ao Yang or its immediate neighbourhood.
The two wives baptized this time have Christian husbands. It has
all along been our prayer that the unsaved relatives of the saved
might be saved.
'Mrs. Chu's husband was baptized a couple of years ago. She
consented to his taking their two children to me to be baptized,
but she herself would have nothing to do with Christianity or
Christ. This time she got over her difficulties. I was much
pleased, especially as she had annoyed her husband a good deal last
year about his having been beaten about his Christianity. She also
had her little child baptized. Pray that God may keep and help them
in all the many complications that will arise on account of their
Christianity, living as they do in a composite family, the ruling
powers of which are heathen.
'Mrs. Ning is a model wife. They are poor. Her husband cannot dress
in good clothes, but is always as neat as a virtuous wife, skilful
with her needle, can make him. She mends so neatly. I once
discarded a vest (Chinese) and gave it to her husband. He took it
home, and later on I saw him swelling about in it quite like a neat
old gentleman, though I was almost ashamed to give it him.
'They have had family worship in their home for a year or two--they
say. We went to baptize her. It was such a small, poor house, but
so very nice inside. Mother and grown daughters and little girl,
with father and grown son, all sleep on a little brick platform,
hardly big enough for me--one man. She and the grown daughter
support the family by needlework--making horsehair women's head
fittings, which the father sells, when he has nothing more to do.
'The son is epileptic and can earn nothing, and is, in addition, a
great eater. He is a good man and a Christian. As we entered, the
son and daughter went out. The mother and little daughter were
baptized. The father did not wish his big daughter baptized. When
she is married she will get a heathen mother-in-law, who will go
for her and make her worship idols. So said the father. In a few
days the father came back, saying that out of fear of the coming
mother-in-law he had not had his daughter baptized, but that his
daughter had pressed him so hard that she was as formidable as the
mother-in-law. The daughter says she'll stick to her God and let
them stick to theirs, and so she was baptized. She has a hot time
before her. Chinese mothers-in-law are no joke. Pray for the lassie
that:--(_a_) she may be steadfast; (_b_) she may be wise; (_c_) she
may be gentle in her resistance; (_d_) enabled by God to endure;
and that the mother-in-law may be restrained. God can do all
things.
'Here, in T· Ss[)u] Kou, two of the Christians have wives very
much opposed to Christianity, and give their husbands hot times.
Remember the husbands, please, and all such in their shoes, in
prayer, and may the darkened women themselves be enlightened. You
have no notion how deeply sunk in superstition the women are. Still
another Christian has a wife whom he has to allow to worship a
weasel, because the woman shows symptoms of being possessed by the
beast if she does not worship it!
'The other day a woman came to my stand in the market-place, saying
that "Mr. Yellow" troubled her. "Mr. Yellow" turned out to be the
weasel, and she firmly believed her sickness was due to the beast.
'We are badly in want of a lady medical man in this district. Don't
you know of one who would do? Are there none of you who could study
medicine and go out as doctors to some of the many needy places?
Much was hoped for this district from the late Mrs. Smith, but God
took her. Any one who comes here should have good health, and not
fear seclusion from foreign company. I would suggest that a couple
should come, a medical and a non-medical. There is a house which
could be got for such a couple, only I don't see how they could get
on without knowing some Chinese. Perhaps some one of the Peking or
Tientsin ladies already speaking Chinese would volunteer to be a
medical lady's companion. Would that God would stir some of you up!
Meantime, thanks for the money. Thanks also for the prayers which I
take for granted you let us have. You might also pray for a woman
who has a very good, quiet, Christian husband, but herself has such
a temper that she cannot in decency take on a Christian profession.
Eh, man! eh, man! it is curious that I, a widower, should be left
to look after women's souls out here, when lots of women are
competing for men's situations and businesses at home. I guess
things will come right some day, though I may or may not see it.
'Very gratefully,
'Yours sincerely,
'JAMES GILMOUR.'
On May 8 he sent the following note to Mrs. Williams, the wife of the
Rev. Mark Williams of the American Board. Their Society happened to be
holding its annual meeting at the same time in Tientsin as the London
Society. Mr. Gilmour was just entering his fatal illness as he penned
these lines, the last, we believe, that he wrote. They are a beautiful
testimony to the strength of his affection for the Mongols to whom he
and his wife had ministered so well long before, and on whose behalf
they had suffered so much and so deeply. Standing as he was on the
borderland of the heavenly country, he recalls the hard toil of his
early days, and he leaves to those who must carry on to a successful
issue, not only his work, but also the great enterprise of winning all
China for Jesus Christ, this as a last legacy--the fruit of his prayer,
his faith, his toil and his utter self-sacrifice--namely, the conviction
that the need of China is 'good, honest, quiet, earnest, persistent work
in old lines and ways.'
'Tientsin: May 8, Friday.
'My dear Mrs. Williams,--Thanks for returning the photos. Not
having delivered them to you personally, I feared that in the
present whirl of people and business they might have been mislaid,
or even not reached you.
'It is a great pleasure to see you here at this time. Many memories
of past times and days come up. Though never again likely to see
Kalgan, I often in thought go along its narrow, hard streets, and
its up and down sideways, call in at your house, see all your
faces, even that of the youthful Stephen, and the studious Etta;
and often go up over the Pass into the grass land.
'It is like a rest for a little while beside the palms and wells of
Elim to meet you all here.
'Your peaceful, happy family fills me with gratitude to God. May He
bless them all (your children), and lead them not only into paths
of peace and pleasantness, but of useful service for Him! You and
your husband seem well. May many useful years of ripely experienced
labour be yours!
'Lately, I am being more and more impressed with the idea that what
is wanted in China is not new "lightning" methods so much as good,
honest, quiet, earnest, persistent work in old lines and ways.
'With many grateful memories of all old-time Kalgan kindness, and
hoping to see a note from you, or Mr. Williams, say once a year or
so, and with prayers for you and all Kalgan-wards Mongols,
'Yours, cheered by the vision of you all,
'JAMES GILMOUR.'