BEFORE going to my first harvesting, I had applied for a situation in
Glasgow, apparently exactly suited for my case; but I had little or no
hope of ever hearing of it further. An offer of £50 per annum was
made by the West Campbell Street Reformed Presbyterian Congregation,
then under the good and noble Dr. Bates, for a young man to act as district
visitor and tract distributor, especially amongst the absentees from
the Sabbath School; with the privilege of receiving one year's training
at the Free Church Normal Seminary, that he might qualify himself for
teaching, and thereby push forward to the Holy Ministry. The candidates,
along with their application and certificates, were to send an essay
on some subject, of their own composition and in their own handwriting.
I sent in two long poems on the Covenanters, which must have exceedingly
amused them, as I had not learned to write even decent prose. But, much
to my surprise, immediately on the close of the harvesting experience,
a letter arrived, intimating that I, along with another young man, had been
put upon the short list, and that both were requested to appear in Glasgow
on a given day and compete for the appointment.
Two days thereafter I started out from my quiet country home on the road to
Glasgow. Literally "on the road," for from Torthorwald to Kilmarnock
-- about forty miles -- had to be done on foot, and thence to Glasgow by
rail. Railways in those days were as yet few, and coach-travelling was far
beyond my purse. A small bundle contained my Bible and all my personal belongings.
Thus was I launched upon the ocean of life. I thought on One who says, "I
know thy poverty, but thou art rich."
My dear father walked with me the first six miles of the way. His counsels
and tears and heavenly conversation on that parting journey are fresh in
my heart as if it had been but yesterday; and tears are on my cheeks as freely
now as then, whenever memory steals me away to the scene. For the last half
mile or so we walked on together in almost unbroken silence, -- my father,
as was often his custom, carrying hat in hand, while his long, flowing yellow
hair (then yellow, but in later years white as snow) streamed like a girl's
down his shoulders. His lips kept moving in silent prayers for me; and his
tears fell fast when our eyes met each other in looks of which all speech
was vain! We halted on reaching the appointed parting-place; he grasped my
hand firmly for a minute in silence, and then solemnly and affectionately
said:
"God bless you, my son! Your father's God prosper you, and keep you from
all evil!"
Unable to say more, his lips kept moving in silent prayer; in tears we embraced,
and parted. I ran off as fast as I could; and, when about to turn a corner
in the road where he would lose sight of me, I looked back and saw him still
standing with head uncovered where I had left him -- gazing after me. Waving
my hat in adieu, I was round the corner and out of sight in an instant. But
my heart was too full and sore to carry me farther, so I darted into the
side of the road and wept for a time. Then, rising up cautiously, I climbed
the dyke to see if he yet stood where I had left him; and just at that moment
I caught a glimpse at him climbing the dyke and looking out for me! He did
not see me, and after he had gazed eagerly in my direction for a while he
got down, set his face towards home, and began to return -- his head still
uncovered, and his heart, I felt sure, still rising in prayers for me. I
watched through blinding tears, till his form faded in my gaze; and then,
hastening on my way, vowed deeply and oft, by the help of God, to live and
act so never to grieve or dishonor such a father and mother as He had given
me. The appearance of my father, when we parted, -- his advice, prayers,
and tears -- the road, the dyke, the climbing up on it and then walking head
uncovered -- have often, often, all through life risen vividly before my
mind, and do so now while writing, as if it had been but an hour ago. In
earlier years particularly, when exposed to many tempations, his parting
form rose before me as that of a guardian angel.
 I REACHED Glasgow on the third day, having slept one night at Thornhill, and
another at New Cumnock; and having needed, owing to the kindness of acquaintances
upon whom I called by the way, to spend only three halfpence of my modest
funds. Safely arrived, but weary, I secured a humble room for my lodging,
for which I had to pay one shilling and sixpence per week. Buoyant and full
of hope and looking up to God for guidance, I appeared at the appointed hour
before the examiners, as did also the other candidate; and they having carefully
gone through their work, asked us to retire. When recalled, they informed
us that they had great difficulty in choosing, and suggested that the one
of us might withdraw in favor of the other, or that both might submit to
a more testing examination. Neither seemed inclined to give it up, both were
willing for a second examination; but the patrons made another suggestion.
They had only £50 per annum to give; but if we would agree to divide
it betwixt us, and go into one lodging, we might both be able to struggle
through, they would pay our entrance fees at the Free Normal Seminary, and
provide us with the books required; and perhaps they might be able to add
a little to the sum promised to each of us. By dividing the mission work
appointed, and each taking only the half, more time also might be secured
for our studies. Though the two candidates had never seen each other before,
we at once accepted this proposal, and got on famously together, never having
had a dispute on anything of common interest throughout our whole career.
As our fellow-students at the Normal were all far advanced beyond us in their
education, we found it killing work, and had to grind away incessantly, late
and early. Both of us, before the year closed, broke down in health; partly
by hard study, but principally, perhaps, for lack of nourishing diet. A severe
cough seized upon me; I began spitting blood, and a doctor ordered me at
once home to the country and forbade all attempts at study. My heart sank;
it was a dreadful disappointment, and to me a bitter trial. Soon after, my
companion, though apparently much stronger than I, was similarly seized.
He, however, never entirely recovered, though for some years he taught in
a humble school; and long ago he fell asleep in Jesus, a devoted and honored
Christian man.
I, on the other hand, after a short rest, nourished by the hill air of Torthorwald
and by the new milk of our family cow, was ere long at work again. Renting
a house, I began to teach a small school at Girvan, and gradually but completely
recovered my health.
Having saved £10 by my teaching, I returned to Glasgow, and was enrolled
as a student at the College; but before the session was finished my money
was exhausted -- I had lent some to a poor student, who failed to repay me
-- and only nine shillings remained in my purse. There was no one from whom
to borrow, had I been willing; I had been disappointed in attempting to secure
private tuition; and no course seemed open for me, except to pay what little
I owed, give up my College career, and seek for teaching or other work in
the country. I wrote a letter to my father and mother, informing them of
my circumstances; that I was leaving Glasgow in quest of work, and that they
would not hear from me again till I had found a suitable situation. I told
them that if otherwise unsuccessful, I should fall back on my own trade,
though I shrank from that as not tending to advance my education; but that
they might rest assured I would do nothing to dishonor them or my own Christian
profession. Having read that letter over again through many tears, I said,
-- I cannot send that, for it will grieve my darling parents; and therefore,
leaving it on the table, I locked my room door and ran out to find a place
where I might sell my precious books, and hold on a few weeks longer. But,
as I stood on the opposite side and wondered whether these folks in a shop
with the three golden balls would care to have a poor student's books, and
as I hesitated knowing how much I needed them for my studies, conscience
smote me as if for doing a guilty thing; I imagined that the people were
watching me like one about to commit a theft; and I made off from the scene
at full speed, with a feeling of intense shame at having dreamed of such
a thing! Passing through one short street into another, I marched on mechanically;
but the Lord God of my father was guiding my steps, all unknown to me.
A certain notice in a window, into which I had probably never in my life looked
before, here caught my eye, to this effect -- "Teacher wanted, Maryhill
Free Church School; apply at the Manse." A coach or bus was just passing,
when I turned round; I leapt into it, saw the Minister, arranged to undertake
the School, returned to Glasgow, paid my landlady's lodging score, tore up
that letter to my parents and wrote another full of cheer and hope; and early
next morning entered the School and began a tough and trying job. The Minister
warned me that the School was a wreck, and had been broken up chiefly by
coarse and bad characters from mills and coal-pits, who attended the evening
classes. They had abused several masters in succession; and, laying a thick
and heavy cane on the desk, be said:
"Use that freely, or you will never keep order here!"
I put it aside into the drawer of my desk, saying, "That will be my last
resource."
There were very few scholars for the first week -- about eighteen in the Day
School and twenty in the Night School. The clerk of the mill, a good young
fellow, came to the evening classes, avowedly to learn book-keeping, but
privately he said he had come to save me from personal injury.
The following week, a young man and a young woman began to attend the Night
School, who showed from the first moment that they were bent on mischief.
On my repeated appeals for quiet and order, they became the more boisterous,
and gave great merriment to a few of the scholars present. I finally urged
the young man, a tall, powerful fellow, to be quiet or at once to leave,
declaring that at all hazards I must and would have perfect order; but he
only mocked at me, and assumed a fighting attitude. Quietly locking the door
and putting the key in my pocket, I turned to my desk, armed myself with
the cane, and dared any one at his peril to interfere betwixt us. It was
a rough struggle -- he smashing at me clumsily with his fists, I with quick
movements evading and dealing him blow after blow with the heavy cane for
several rounds -- till at length he crouched down at his desk, exhausted
and beaten, and I ordered him to turn to his book, which he did in sulky
silence. Going to my desk, I addressed them and asked them to inform all
who wished to come to the School, -- That if they came for education, everything
would be heartily done that it was in my power to do; but that any who wished
for mischief had better stay away, as I was determined to conquer, not to
be conquered, and to secure order and silence, whatever it might cost. Further,
I assured them that that cane would not again be lifted by me, if kindness
and forbearance on my part could possibly gain the day, as I wished to rule
by love and not by terror. But this young man knew he was in the wrong, and
it was that which had made him weak against me, though every way stronger
far than I. Yet I would be his friend and helper, if he was willing to be
friendly with me, the same as if this night had never been. At these words
a dead silence fell on the School: every one buried face diligently in book;
and the evening closed in uncommon quiet and order.
The attendance grew, till the School became crowded, both during the day and
at night. During the mid-day hour even, I had a large class of young women
who came to improve themselves in writing and arithmetic. By and by the cane
became a forgotten implement; the sorrow and pain which I showed as to badly-done
lessons, or anything blameworthy, proved the far more effectual penalty.
The School Committee had promised me at least ten shillings per week, and
guaranteed to make up any deficit if the fees fell short of that sum; but
if the income from fees exceeded that sum, all was to be mine. Affairs went
on prosperously for a season; indeed, too much so for my selfish interest.
The Committee took advantage of the large attendance and better repute of
the School, to secure the services of a master of the highest grade. The
parents of many of the children offered to take and seat a hall, if I would
remain, but I knew too well that I had neither education nor experience to
compete with an accomplished teacher. Their children, however, got up a testimonial
and subscription, which was presented to me on the day before I left and
this I valued chiefly because the presentation was made by the young fellows
who at first behaved so badly, but were now my devoted friends.
Once more I committed my future to the Lord God of my father, assured that
in my very heart I was willing and anxious to serve Him and to follow the
blessed Saviour, yet feeling keenly that intense darkness had again enclosed
my path.
BEFORE undertaking the Maryhill School, I had applied to be taken on as an
agent in the Glasgow City Mission; and the night before I had to leave Maryhill,
I received a letter from Rev. Thomas Caie, the superintendent of the said
Mission, saying that the directors had kept their eyes on me ever since my
application, and requesting, as they understood I was leaving the School,
that I would appear before them the next morning, and have my qualifications
for becoming a Missionary examined into. Praising God, I went off at once,
passed the examination successfully, and was appointed to spend two hours
that afternoon and the following Monday in visitation with two of the directors,
calling at every house in a low district of the town and conversing with
all the characters encountered there as to their eternal welfare. I had also
to preach a "trial" discourse in a Mission meeting, where a deputation
of directors would be present, the following evening being Sunday; and on
Wednesday evening they met again to hear their report and to accept or reject
me.
All this had come upon me so unexpectedly, that I almost anticipated failure;
but looking up for help I went through with it, and on the fifth day after
leaving the School they called me before a meeting of directors, and informed
me that I had passed my trials most successfully, and that the reports were
so favorable that they had unanimously resolved to receive me at once as
one of their City Missionaries. Deeply solemnized with the responsibilities
of my new office, I left that meeting praising God for all His undeserved
mercies, and seeing most clearly His gracious hand in all the way by which
He had led me, and the trials by which He had prepared me for this sphere
of service. Man proposes -- God disposes.
I found the district a very degraded one. Many families said they had never
been visited by any Minister; and many were lapsed professors of religion
who had attended no church for ten, sixteen, or twenty years, and said they
had never been called upon by any Christian visitor. In it were congregated
many avowed infidels, Romanists, and drunkards, -- living together, and associated
for evil, but apparently without any effective counteracting influence...
After nearly a year's hard work, I had only six or seven non-church-goers,
who had been led to attend regularly there, besides about the same number
who met on a week evening in the ground-floor of a house kindly granted for
the purpose...
By and by Meetings and Classes were both too large for any house that was
available for us in the whole of our district. We instituted a Bible Class,
a Singing Class, a Communicants' Class, and a Total Abstinence Society; and,
in addition to the usual meetings, we opened two prayer-meetings specially
for the Calton division of the Glasgow Police -- one at a suitable hour for
the men on day duty, and another for those on night duty ... My work now
occupied every evening in the week; and I had two meetings every Sabbath.
By God's blessing they all prospered, and gave evidence of such fruits as
showed that the Lord was working there for good by our humble instrumentality...
...as no other suitable house or hall could be got, the poor people and I
feared the extinction of our work. At that very time, however, a commodious
block of buildings, that had been Church, Schools, Manse, etc., came into
the market. My great-hearted friend, the late Thomas Binnie, persuaded Dr.
Symington's congregation, Great Hamilton Street, in connection with which
my Mission was carried on, to purchase the whole property...
Availing myself of the increased facilities, my work was all reorganized.
On Sabbath morning, at seven o'clock, I had one of the most deeply interesting
and fruitful of all my Classes for the study of the Bible. It was attended
by from seventy to a hundred of the very poorest young women and grown-up
lads of the whole district ... My delight in that Bible Class was among the
purest joys in all my life, and the results were amongst the most certain
and precious of all my Ministry. I had also a very large Bible Class -- a
sort of Bible Reading -- on Monday night, attended by all, of both sexes
and of any age, who cared to come or had any interest in the Mission. Wednesday
evening, again, was devoted to a prayer-meeting for all; and the attendance
often more than half-filled the Church. There I usually took up some book
of Holy Scripture and read and lectured right through, practically expounding
and applying it. On Thursday I held a Communicants' Class, intended for the
more careful instruction of all who wished to become full members of the
Church ... Friday evening was occupied with a Singing Class, teaching Church
music, and practising for our Sabbath meetings. On Saturday evening we held
our Total Abstinence meeting, at which the members themselves took a principal
part, in readings, addresses, recitations, singing hymns, etc,
Great good resulted from this Total Abstinence work. Many adults took and
kept the pledge, thereby greatly increasing the comfort and happiness of
their homes. Many were led to attend the Church on the Lord's Day, who had
formerly spent it in rioting and drinking. But, above all, it trained the
young to fear the very name of intoxicating drink, and to hate and keep far
away from everything that led to intemperance. I would add my testimony also
against the use of tobacco, which injures and leads many astray, especially
lads and young men, and which never can be required by any person in ordinary
health. But I would not be understood to regard the evils that flow from
it as deserving to be mentioned in comparison with the unutterable woes and
miseries of intemperance.
To be protected, however, from suspicion and from evil, all the followers
of our Lord Jesus should in self-denial (how small!) and in consecration
to His service, be pledged Abstainers from both of these selfish indulgences,
which are certainly injurious to many, which are no ornament to any character,
and which can be no help in well-doing. Praise God for the many who are now
so pledged!
...in my Mission district I was the witness of many joyful departures to be
with Jesus, -- I do not like to name them "deaths" at all. They
left us rejoicing in the bright assurance that nothing present or to come "could
ever separate them or us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our
Lord." Many examples might be given; but I can find room for only one.
John Sim, a dear little boy, was carried away by consumption. His child-heart
seemed to be filled with joy about seeing Jesus. His simple prattle, mingled
with deep questionings, arrested not only his young companions, but pierced
the hearts of some careless sinners who heard him, and greatly refreshed
the faith of God's dear people. It was the very pathos of song incarnated
to hear the weak quaver of his dying voice sing out--
"I lay my sins on Jesus, The spotless Lamb of God."
Shortly before his decease he said to his parents, "I am going soon to
be with Jesus; but I sometimes fear that I may not see you there."
"Why so, my child?" said his weeping mother.
"Because," he answered, "if you were set upon going to Heaven
and seeing Jesus there, you would pray about it and sing about it; you would
talk about Jesus to others, and tell them of that happy meeting with Him
in Glory. All this my dear Sabbath School teacher taught me, and she will
meet me there. Now why did not you, my father and mother, tell me all these
things about Jesus, if you are going to meet Him too?" Their tears fell
fast over their dying child; and he little knew, in his unthinking eighth
year, what a message from God had pierced their souls through his innocent
words...
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