D""l m ffam %1t^^^ YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY From the Library of LEWIS S. WELCH THE LIFE OF HENRY DRUMMOND THE LIFE OF HENRY DRUMMOND BY GEORGE ADAM SMITH WITH PORTRAIT NEW YORK DOUBLEDAY & McCLURE COMPANY 1898 Copyright, 1898, by DOUBLEDAY & McCLURE COMPANY. '^^Sd.5 . nr i )p,/-l....i'. .1 Kariuoab press J. S. CoBhing & Co. —Berwick & Smith Norwood Mas'). U.S.A. Ea ^is Mai^tx PREFACE In the preparation of this volume I have received generous help from many friends, who have placed at my disposal their memories of Henry Drummond and their collections of his letters; or who have further assisted by their counsel on points of diffi culty, and by their careful revision of several of the chapters. I am especially indebted to Mr. James Drummond, who arranged his brother's papers and furnished many details of information. As to the letters which are quoted in the volume, I have to explain that the names of those to whom they were addressed have been given, for the most part, only where this was rendered necessary by the allusions which the letters contain: In a life so crowded with interests and activities, some facts have doubtless been overlooked. A few of these, which appeared too late to be put in their proper chapters, have been gathered together in an Appendix. In the quoted material the round marks of paren thesis and their contents belong to the original; what is enclosed in square brackets has been added. COILLEBHROCHAIN, PERTHSHIRE, September, 1898. CHAPTER I AS WE KNEW HIM ""^j CHAPTER II SCHOOL AND COLLEGE .... CHAPTER III PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY . Iti THE GREAT 39 CHAPTER IV MISSION. 1 873-1 875 58 CHAPTER V BACK TO COLLEGE lOO CHAPTER VI SCIENCE AND RELIGION . 1877-1883 I29 CHAPTER VII DIARIES OF TRAVEL. — I. THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS . . . .165 CHAPTER VIII DIARIES OF TRAVEL. — II. EAST CENTRAL AFRICA. . . . 190 CONTENTS CHAPTER IX PAGE THE FAME OF NATURAL LAW 228 CHAPTER X EVOLUTION AND REVELATION 244 CHAPTER XI 1884-1890 264 CHAPTER XII THE STUDENT MOVEMENT, 1884-1894 318 CHAPTER XIII THE AMERICAN COLLEGES — 1887 368 CHAPTER XIV AUSTRALIA AND THE AUSTRALIAN COLLEGES — 189O . . . 386 CHAPTER XV DIARIES OF TRAVEL. — III. THE NEW HEBRIDES .... 402 CHAPTER XVI 1891-1894 439 CHAPTER XVII THE ASCENT OF MAN . . ^cg CHAPTER XVIII BOYS AND THE BOYS' BRIGADE ^n. CONTENTS xi CHAPTER XIX PAGE THE END .... 496 APPENDIX I ADDRESSES TO THE STUDENTS OF EDINBURGH UNIVERSITY IN JAN UARY, FEBRUARY, AND MARCH, 1890 503 APPENDIX II ADDENDA 533 INDEX . . 535 ' . . . By a fine gentleman, I mean a man completely qualified as well for the service and good, as for the ornament and delight, of society. When I consider the frame of mind peculiar to a gentleman, I suppose it graced with all the dignity and elevation of spirit that human nature is capable of. To this I would have joined a clear understanding, a reason free from prejudice, a steady judgment, and an extensive knowledge. When I think of the heart of a gentleman, I imagine it firm and intrepid, void of all inordinate passions, and full of tenderness, compassion, and benevolence. When I view the fine gentleman with regard to his man ners, methinks I see him modest without bashfulness, frank and affable without impertinence, obUging and complaisant without servility, cheerful and in good humour without noise. These amiable qualities are not easily obtained, neither are there many men that have a genius to excel this way. A finished gentleman is perhaps the most uncommon of all the great characters in life. Besides the natural endowments with which this dis tinguished man is to be born, he must run through a long series of educa tion. Before he makes his appearance and shines in the world, he must be principled in religion, instructed in all the moral virtues, and led through the whole course of the polite arts and sciences. He should be no stranger to courts and to camps ; he must travel to open his mind, to enlarge his views, to learn the pohcies and interests of foreign states as well as to fashion and polish himself and to get clear of national prejudices, of which every country has its share. To all these more essential improvements he must not forget to add the fashionable ornaments of life, such as are the languages and the bodily exercises most in vogue ; neither would I have him think even dress itself beneath his notice.' CHAPTER I AS WE KNEW HIM ^ It is now eighteen months since Henry Drummond died — time enough for the fading of those fond extrav agances into which fresh grief will weave a dead friend's qualities. And yet, I suppose, there are hundreds of men and women, who are still sure — and will always be sure — that his was the most Christlike life they ever knew. In that belief they are fortified not only by the record of the great influence which God gave him over men, for such is sometimes misleading; but by the testimony of those who worked at his side while he wielded it ; and by the evidence of the friends who knew him longest and who were most intimately ac quainted with the growth of his character. In his brief life we saw him pass through two of the greatest trials to which character can be exposed. We watched him, our fellow-student and not yet twenty-three, surprised by a sudden and a fierce fame. Crowds of men and women in all the great cities of our land hung upon his lips, innumerable lives opened their secrets to him, and made him aware of his power over them. When his first book was published, he, being then about thirty-three, found another world at his feet ; the great of the land thronged him ; his social opportunities were boundless ; and he was urged by the chief statesman of our time to a political career. This is the kind of trial which one has seen wither some of the finest characters, and distract others from 2 HENRY DRUMMOND the simplicity and resolution of their youth. He passed through it unscathed : it neither warped his spirit nor turned him from his accepted vocation as a teacher of religion. Again, in the end of his life, he was plunged to the opposite extreme. For two long years he not only suffered weakness and excruciating pain, but what must have been more trying to a spirit like his, accustomed all his manhood to be giving, helping, and leading, he became absolutely dependent upon others. This also he bore unspoiled, and we who had known him from the beginning found him at the end the same humble, unselfish, and cheerful friend whom we loved when we sat together on the benches at college. Perhaps the most conspicuous service which Henry Drummond rendered to his generation was to show them a Christianity which was perfectly natural. You met him somewhere, a graceful, well-dressed gentle man, tall and lithe, with a swing in his walk and a brightness on his face, who seemed to carry no cares, and to know neither presumption nor timidity. You spoke and found him keen for any of a hundred interests. He fished, he shot, he skated as few can, he played cricket; he would go any distance to see a fire or a football match. He had a new story, a new puzzle, or a new joke every time he met you. Was it on the street? He drew you to watch two message boys meet, grin, knock each other's hats off, lay down their baskets and enjoy a friendly chaffer of marbles. Was it in the train .? He had dredged from the bookstall every paper and magazine that was new to him ; or he would read you a fresh tale of his favourite, Bret Harte. ' Had you seen \h& Apostle of the Tules : or Frederic Harrison's article in the Nirte- AS WE KNEW HIM 3 teenth Century on " Ruskin as a Master of English Prose," or Q's Conspiracy aboard the Midas, or the " Badminton " Cricket ? ' If it was a rainy afternoon in a country house, he described a new game, and in five minutes everybody was in the thick of it. If it was a children's party, they clamoured for his sleight-of-hand. He smoked, he played billiards; lounging in the sun, he could be the laziest man you ever saw. If you were alone with him, he was sure to find out what interested you and listen by the hour. The keen brown eyes got at your heart, and you felt you could speak your best to them. Sometimes you would remem ber that he was Drummond the evangelist, Drummond the author of books which measured their circulation by scores of thousands. Yet there was no assumption of superiority nor any ambition to gain influence — noth ing but the interest of one healthy human being in another. If the talk slipped among deeper things, he was as untroubled and as unforced as before ; there was never a glimpse of a phylactery nor a smudge of unc tion about his religion. He was one of the purest, most unselfish, most reverent souls you ever knew, but you would not have called him saint. The name he went by among younger men was ' The Prince ' ; there was a distinction and a radiance upon him that compelled the title. That he had ' a genius for friendship ' goes without saying, for he was rich in the humility, the patience, and the powers of trust which such a genius implies. Yet his love had, too, the rarer and more strenuous temper which requires ' the common aspiration,' is jealous for a friend's growth, and has the nerve to criticise. It is the measure of what he felt friendship to be that he has defined religion in the terms of it. 4 HENRY DRUMMOND With such gifts, his friendship came to many men and women — women, to all of whom his chivalry and to some his gratitude and admiration were among the most beautiful features of his character. There was but one thing, which any of his friends could have felt as a want — others respected it as the height and crown of his friendship — and that was this. The longer you knew him, the fact which most impressed you was that he seldom talked about him self, and no matter how deep the talk might go, never about that inner self which for praise or for sympathy is in many men so clamant, and in all more or less perceptible. Through the radiance of his presence and the familiarity of his talk there sometimes stole out, upon those who were becoming his friends, the sense of a great loneliness and silence behind, as when you catch a snow-peak across the summer fragrance and music of a Swiss meadow. For he always kept silence concerning his own religious struggles. He never asked even his most intimate friends for sym pathy nor seemed to carry any wound, however slight, that needed their fingers for its healing. Now many people, seeing his enjoyment of life and apparent freedom from struggle, — seeing also that spontaneousness of virtue which distinguished him, — have judged that it was easy for the man to be good. He appeared to have few cares in life and no sorrows; till near the end he never, except in Africa, suffered a day's illness, and had certainly less drudgery than falls to most men of his strength and gifts. So they were apt to take his religion to be mere sunshine and the effect of an unclouded sky. They classed him among those who are born good, who are good in their blood. We may admit that, by his birth, Henry Drummond did inherit virtue. Few men who have done good in AS WE KNEW HIM e the world have not been born to the capacity for it. It takes more than one generation to make a consum mate individual, and the life that leaps upon the world like a cataract is often fed from some remote and lonely tarn of which the world never hears the name. Henry Drummond's forbears were men who lived a clean and honest life in the open air, who thought seriously, and had a conscience of service to the com munity. As he inherited from one of them his quick eye for analogies between the physical and the spir itual laws of God, so it was his parents and grand parents who earned for him some at least of the ease and winsomeness of his piety. But such good fortune exempts no man from a share of that discipline and temptation without which neither character is achieved, nor influence over others. Our friend knew nothing of poverty or of friendlessness ; till his last illness he never suffered pain ; and death did not enter his family till he was thirty-six. And, as we have said, he was seldom overworked. Yet at twenty-two he had laid upon him the responsibility of one of the greatest religious movements of our time, and when that was over there followed a period of uncertainty about his future vocation of which he wrote : ' I do not know what afHiction is, but a strange thought comes to me sometimes that " waiting " has the same kind of effect upon one that affliction has.' Nor can we believe that he was spared those fiercer contests which every son of man has to endure upon the battle-field of his own heart. No one who heard his addresses upon Temptation and Sin can doubt that he spoke them from experience. We shall find one record, which he has left behind, of his sense of sin and of the awful peril of character. We must look, then, for the secret of his freedom 6 HENRY DRUMMOND from himself in other directions, and I think we find it in two conspicuous features of his life and teaching. The first of these was his absorbed interest in others — an interest natural to his unselfish temper, but trained and fed by the opportunities of the great mission of his youth, which made him the confidant of so many hundreds of other lives. He had learned the secret of St. Paul — not to look upon his own thinos, but also upon the things of others — that sov ereign way of escape from the self-absorption and panic which temptation so often breeds in the best of characters. No man felt temptation more fiercely, or from the pressure of it has sent up cries of keener agony, than St. Paul, who buffeted his own body and kept it under. But how did he rise above the despair .? By remembering that temptation is co-m-mon to man, by throwing his heart upon the fight which men were everywhere waging about him, and by forgetting his own fears and temptations in interest and sympathy for others. Such souls are engrossed spectators of the drama of life; they are purged by its pity, and ennobled by the contemplation of its issues. But a great sense of honour, too, is bred within them, as they spring shoulder to shoulder with so many strug gling comrades — a sense of honour that lifts them free of the baser temptations — and they are too inter ested in the fate of their fellows, and too busy with the salvation of others, to brood or grow morbid about themselves. Of such was our friend. But Drummond had been taught another secret of the Apostle. St. Paul everywhere links our life in Christ to the great cosmic processes. For by Him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible ; all things were cre ated by Him- and for Hiin . . . and ye are complete AS WE KNEW HIM 7 in Him who is the head of every principle and potency. To Henry Drummond Christianity was the crown of the evolution of the whole universe. The drama which absorbed him is upon a stage infinitely wider than the moral life of man. The soul in its battle against evil, in its service for Christ, is no accident nor exception, thrown upon a world all hostile to its feeble spirit. But the forces it represents are the primal forces of the Universe ; the great laws which modern science has unveiled sweeping through life from the beginning work upon the side of the man who seeks the things that are above. I think it is in this belief, informed by a wide knowledge of sci ence, but still more indebted to an original vision of nature, that, at least in part, we find the secret of the serenity, the healthy objectiveness, and the courage of Henry Drummond's faith. It was certainly on such grounds that in the prime of his teaching he sought to win the reason of men for religion. This was always his first aim. He had an ill-will — one might say a horror — at rousing the emotions before he had secured the conviction of the intellect. I do not mean that he was a logician, for his logic — witness the introduction to his first book — was often his weak point. But he always began by the presentation of facts, by the unfolding of laws, and trust in these and obedience to them was, in his teaching, religion. He felt that they lay open to the common sense and natural conscience of man. Those were blind or fools who did not follow them. Yet he never thought of these laws as impersonal, for the greatest were love and the will that men should be holy, and he spoke of their power and of their tenderness as they who sing. Underneath are the everlasting arms. He had an open vision of love 8 HENRY DRUMMOND wrought into the very foundation of the world ; all along the evolution of life he saw that the will of God was our sanctification. In these two, then, his interest in other men and his trust in the great laws of the universe, we find the double secret of that detachment — that distance from self at which he always seemed to stand. But we should greatly mistake the man and his teaching if we did not perceive that the source and the return of all his interest in men and of all his trust in God was Jesus Christ. Of this his own words are most eloquent: — ' The power to set the heart right, to renew the springs of action, comes from Christ. The sense of the infinite worth of the single soul, and the recoverableness of a man at his worst, are the gifts of Christ. ' The freedom from guilt, the forgiveness of sins, come from Christ's cross ; the hope of immor tality springs from Christ's grave. Personal conversion means for life a personal religion, a personal trust in God, a personal debt to Christ, a personal dedication to His cause. These, brought about how you will, are supreme things to aim at, supreme losses if they are missed.' That was the conclusion of all his doctrine. There was no word of Christ's more often upon his lips than this : ^ Abide in Me and I in you, for without Me ye can do nothing^. The preceding paragraphs have passed impercep tibly from the man himself to his teaching. And this is right, for with Henry Drummond the two were one. So far as it be possible in any human being, in him AS WE KNEW HIM 9 they were without contradiction or discrepancy. He never talked beyond his experience; in action he never seemed to fall behind his faith. Mr. Moody, who has had as much opportunity as perhaps any man of our generation in the study of character, especially among religious people, has said : ' No words of mine can better describe his life or character than those in which he has presented to us The Greatest Thing in the World. Some men take an occasional journey into the thirteenth of First Corinthians, but Henry Drummond was a man who lived there constantly, appropriating its blessings and exemplifying its teach ings. As you read what he terms the analysis of love, you find that all its ingredients were interwoven into his daily life, making him one of the most lov able men I have ever known. Was it courtesy you looked for, he was a perfect gentleman. Was it kind ness, he was always preferring another. Was it hu mility, he was simple and not courting favour. It could be said of him truthfully, as it was said of the early apostles, " that men took knowledge of him that he had been with Jesus." Nor was this love and kindness only shown to those who were close friends. His face was an index to his inner life. It was genial and kind, and made him, like his Master, a favourite with children. . . . Never have I known a man who, in my opinion, lived nearer the Master or sought to do His will more fully.' ^ And again : ' No man has ever been with me for any length of time that I did not see something that was unlike Christ, and I often see it in myself, but not in Henry Drummond. All the time we were together he was a Christlike man and often a rebuke to me.' ^ 1 Record of Christian Work, May, 1897, P- '29. 2 Letter to the Rev. James Stalker, D.D. IO HENRY DRUMMOND With this testimony let us take that of Sir Archi bald Geikie, D.C.L., F.R.S., the Director-General of the Geological Survey of the United Kingdom. When he became the first Professor of Geology in Edinburgh, Drummond was his first student. They travelled to gether in Great Britain, and on a geological expedition to the Rocky Mountains,^ and in later years they met at intervals. Sir Archibald had therefore every opportunity of judging his friend's character, and this is what he writes of him. It is in continuation of some reminiscences which will be quoted later : — ' In later years, having resigned my Professorship for an appointment in London, I met him much more seldom. But he came to see me from time to time, always the same gentle and kindly being. His success never spoiled him in the very least degree. It was no small matter to be able to preserve his simplicity and frankness amidst so much that might have fostered vanity and insincerity in a less noble nature than his. I have never met with a man in whom transparent integrity, high moral purpose, sweetness of disposi tion, and exuberant helpfulness were more happily combined with wide culture, poetic imagination, and scientific sympathies than they were in Henry Drum mond. Most deeply do I grieve over his early death.' Now there was one portion of Christ's spirit and Christ's burden which those who observed Henry Drummond only in his cheerful intercourse with men, upon the ways of the world, would perhaps deem it impossible that he should have shared. His first re ligious ministry was neither of books, nor of public speech. As we shall see, soon after he had read to his fellow-students his paper on ' Spiritual Diagnosis,' in which he blamed the lack of personal dealing as the ^ See below, chap. vii. AS WE ICNEW HIM I i great fault of the organised religion of his time, he was drawn to work in the inquiry rooms of the Revival of 1873-75. And in these he dealt, face to face, with hundreds of men and women at the crises of their lives. When that work was over, his experience, his fidelity, and his sympathy continued to be about him, as it were, the waUs of a quiet and healing confessional, into which wounded men and women crept from the world, dared ' To unlock the heart and let it speak ' — dared to tell him the worst about themselves. It is safe to say that no man in our generation can have heard confession more constantly than Drummond did. And this responsibility about which he was ever as silent as about his own inner struggles was a heavy burden and a sore grief to him. If some of the letters he received be specimens of the confidence poured into his ears, we can understand him saying, as he did to one friend : ' Such tales of woe I've heard in Moody's inquiry room that I have felt I must go and change my very clothes after the contact ; ' or to an other, when he had come from talking privately with some students : ' Oh, I am sick with the sins of these men ! How can God bear it ! ' And yet it is surely proof of the purity of the man and of the power of the gospel he believed in that, thus knowing the human heart, and bearing the full burden of men's sins, he should nevertheless have believed (to use his own words) ' in the recoverableness of a man at his worst,' and have carried with him wherever he went the air of health and of victory. To such love and such experience there naturally came an influence of the widest and most penetrating kind. Very few men in our day can have touched the 12 HENRY DRUMMOND springs of so many lives. Like all his friends, I knew that hundreds of men and women had gone to him, and by him had been inspired with new hope of their betterment and new faith in God. But even then I was prepared neither for the quality nor for the extent of influence which his correspondence re veals. First by his addresses and his conversation, and then with the vastly increased range which his books gave him, he attracted to himself the doubting and the sinful hearts of his generation. It must be left to the other chapters of this biography to illustrate the breadth and variety of the power both of himself and of his teaching. But here it may be affirmed with all sobriety that his influence was like nothing so much as the influence of one of the greater mediaeval saints — who yet worked in a smaller world than he and with a language which travelled more slowly. Men and women sought him who were of every rank of life and of almost every nation under the sun. They turned instinctively to him, not for counsel merely, but for the good news of God and for the inspiration which men seek only from the purest and most loving of their kind. He was prophet and he was priest to hosts of individuals. Upon the strength of his per sonality or (if they did not know him) of the spirit of his writings, they accepted the weakest of his logic, the most patent of his fallacies. They claimed from him the solution of every problem. They brought him alike their mental and their physical troubles. Surest test of a man's love and holiness, they believed in his prayers as a remedy for their diseases and a sure mediation between their sinful souls and God. It is with a certain hesitation that one asserts so much as this, yet the evidence in his correspondence is in dubitable ; and as the members of some great Churches AS WE KNEW HIM 13 are taught to direct their prayers to the famous saints of Christendom, so untaught and naturally, as we shall see, more than one have since his death found them selves praying to Henry Drummond. To write an adequate life of such a man is of course an impossibility ; a friend has said it would be ' like writing the history of a fragrance.' One can describe and make assertions about his influence, but those can hardly appreciate who did not know himself. Indeed, this volume would never have been undertaken — both because of its difficulty, and because of what undoubt edly would have been his own wishes on the point — had it not become clear to his relatives and friends that the life of one who exercised a saving influence on thousands of people all over the world would, in the absence of an authorised biography, be attempted by persons who, however feelingly they might write, could convey only a fragmentary knowledge of their subject. Nor can his biographer hope to satisfy his intimate friends, men and women of all stages of religious expe rience, of many schools of thought, and of all ranks and callings in life, to whom his sympathy and versa tility, as well as the pure liberty of his healthy spirit, must necessarily have shown very different aspects of his character and opinions. For such, all that a biographer can do is to provide pegs, on which they may hang, and perhaps render somewhat more stable and balanced, their own private portraits of their friend. One thing is obvious. So much of Drummond's best work was done, so to speak, ' in the confessional,' upon many who are still alive, and some of whom are well known to their fellow-countrymen, that it is impos sible to describe it except with a reserve which may 14 HENRY DRUMMOND appear to deprive the picture of life. But, although among his papers material exists for narratives of sin, and even of crime, of moral struggle, of conversion and of Christian service, of the most thrilling interest, it is the duty of his biographer to imitate his own reticence, even at the risk of disguising the depth and the reality of his influence. But the biographer of Henry Drummond can at least describe the influences which moulded him, trace the growth of his character and the development of his opinions, and give a record of the actual work he did, and of the movements which he started or en forced. Among the first of these the religious move ment in Great Britain from 1873 to 1875 stands supreme, and deserves the most thorough treatment. The history of this has never been written. The present generation do not know how large it was, and with what results upon the life of our nation. As for Drummond, it made him the man he was in his prime : in his expertness in dealing with men, in his power as a speaker, nay, even in some principles of his faith, he is inexplicable without it. So a long chapter will be devoted to the movement and to his share in it. As to the growth or change of his opinions, that also it is needful to trace in detail, not only that we may do justice to himself, but because certain of the lines of that growth follow some of the most interest ing religious and intellectual developments of our time. Here was a young man trained in an evan gelical family, and in the school of the older orthodoxy, who consecrated his youth to the service of Christ, and never all his life lost his faith in Christ as his Lord and Saviour, or in Christ's Divinity, or in the power of His Atonement, but who grew away from many of the doctrines which, when he was young, were still regarded AS WE KNEW HIM I 5 by the Churches as equally well assured and indispen sable to the creed of a Christian : such as, for instance, belief in the literal inspiration and equal divinity of all parts of the Bible. In his later life Drummond so explicitly avowed his adherence to an interpretation of Scripture very different from this, that it is not only right that the latter should be described in his own words (hence the large extracts in chap. x. of this volume), but that also the narrower positions from which he started on his career should be set plainly before us. For this reason I have recounted some of the opinions of his student days with a greater fulness than their intrinsic importance would warrant. The story of his growth from them may be of use to the many students whom the Biblical criticism of our time has brought face to face with similar facts, problems, and issues. Parallel to this change in his views of Scripture and contributory to it, is the very interesting growth of the influence wrought upon his religious opinions by physical science and that discovery of natural laws in which his generation has been so active. But besides these two developments there is a third, which is also characteristic of our time. To Drummond, in his youth, religion was an affair of the individual ; he was impatient (if such a temper could, at any time, be im puted to him) with the new attempts in Scotland and England to emphasise its social character. It is true he never bated by one jot his insistence upon the personal origin of all religion ; yet he so greatly extended his sympathy and his experience, he so developed the civic conscience, as to become one of the principal exponents in our day of the social duties of religion. Thus his career is typical of the influence upon the older Christian orthodoxy of the three great 1 6 HENRY DRUMMOND intellectual movements of our time — historical criti cism, physical science, and socialism (in the broad and unsectarian meaning of that much-abused term). Again, Henry Drummond was a traveller, with keen powers of observation, a scientific training, and a great sympathy with human life on its lowest levels and outside edges. He visited the Far West of America at a time when Indian wars were still com mon and the white man was represented only by soldiers, hunters, and miners of gold. He visited Central Africa at a time when the only white men there were missionaries and a few traders, and of that region he made practically the first detailed sci entific examination. He visited the New Hebrides, when the effects of Christianity upon the savages of these islands were beginning to be obvious; he bought clubs and poisoned spears from men who were still cannibals ; he worshipped with those who had been cannibals and were now members of his own church. Of these travels it is only of the second that he has published an account. Yet his notes of the others are often as interesting and always as careful. I have thought it right, therefore, to incorporate in this life of him a transcription of these notes, and to supply from his African diary so much of scientific or other human interest as has not appeared in his Tropi cal Africa. It was in Africa that he made his only original contributions to science, and in justice to these it seems right to give, in greater detail than his mod esty allowed to appear in his volume, his observations of the geology of the African continent. Finally, Henry Drummond was a writer of books, which brought him no little fame in the world. This biography is written by one of a circle of life-long friends, and with their affections upon its words; yet AS WE KNEW HIM 1 7 it was among them that some of his books received the most severe criticism, and therefore I have deemed it not inconsistent with the spirit of the biography to introduce an adverse judgment upon the substance of one of his volumes. As to the style in which all are written, if the saying be anywhere true that the style is the man, it is true here. The even and limpid pages of his books are the expression of his equable and transparent temper. And as we have seen that his character was the outcome of a genuine discipline, so we shall find evidence that his style was the fruit of hard labour and an unsparing will. But all these talents and experiences were only parts of a rare and radiant whole, of which any biography, however fully it may record them, can with them all offer only an imperfect reflection. So complete a life happens but once in a generation. ' It is no very un common thing,' says the writer whose words are pre fixed to this chapter,^ ' it is no very uncommon thing in the world to meet with men of probity; there are likewise a great many men of honour to be found. Men of courage, men of sense, and men of letters are frequent ; but a true fine gentleman is what one seldom sees. He is properly a compound of the various good qualities that embellish mankind. As the great poet animates all the different parts of learning by the force of his genius, and irradiates all the compass of his knowledge by the lustre and brightness of his imagi nation, so all the great and solid perfections of life appear in the finished gentleman, with a beautiful gloss and varnish ; everything he says or does is ac companied with a manner, or rather a charm, that draws the admiration and good-will of every beholder.' 1 Sir Richard Steele in the Guardian, No. 34. CHAPTER II SCHOOL AND COLLEGE Henry Drummond came of a family resident for some generations near the town of Stirling. His great grandfather was portioner of the lands of Benthead, Bannockburn. His grandfather, William Drummond, was a land surveyor and afterwards a nurseryman at Coneypark. He appears to have been a man who thought for himself on matters of religion. It was among some notes of his, upon resemblances be tween the laws of nature and those of the spiritual life, that his grandson, after the publication of Natural Law in the Spiritual World, discovered a remarkable anticipation of the main thesis of that volume.-^ William Drummond had eleven sons. Of these Henry, who was the father of our Henry, became head of the firm of William Drummond & Sons, seeds men and nurserymen at Stirling and Dublin. One of his brothers and partners, David, resided at Dublin. Another was Peter, who established the Agricultural Museum in Stirling, and withdrew from the firm in order to give his energies to the Stirling Tract Enter prise, of which he was the founder. Mr. Henry Drummond, senior, was a man of great worth. ' He was fifty years of age before he taught in a Sabbath-school or opened his lips in public on religion,' but from that time onwards he was in the front of every good cause in Stirling, He was a 1 See p. 153. 18 SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 1 9 Justice of the Peace, President of the Young Men's Christian Association, chairman or director of most of the philanthropic institutions of the town, and an elder in the Free North Church, under the ministry of the Rev. Dr. Beith. He founded, and for many years conducted, a Sunday-school at Cambusbarron in the neighbourhood of his home. ' He could play on an audience of children as a man plays on an instru ment.' His discipline was strict, but he had his chil dren's confidence. By his contemporaries he was implicitly trusted for his probity in business, his fast friendship, and his sagacious counsel. To the end of a long life his character remained fresh and winsome. He died on January i, 1888. Mr. Drummond married Miss Jane Blackwood of Kilmarnock. She had a brother, James Blackwood, of Gillsburn, whose attainments in science deserve some notice here, partly for their own worth, and partly because of their resemblance to the qualities and pursuits of his distinguished nephew. 'While still a youth he became proficient in chemistry and geology, and constructed a camera obscura, micro scope, and telescope. Stands, tubes, and lenses were all fashioned by himself. He was one of the eariiest makers of daguerreotypes in Scotland. In later years he devoted himself to the study of petrology, the science of the constituents of rocks, and became, next to his friend, the late Professor Heddle of St. Andrews, the chief authority on that subject in Scotland. How many will remember an evening spent with him at Gillsburn, when the grand microscope was brought out and Mr. Blackwood showed slices of rock ground till they were transparent. How instructive it was to hear him explain "the perpetual motion slides," in which there are cavities filled with fluid and tiny air 20 HENRY DRUMMOND [1851-57 globules that move to vibrations in the earth so slight that our senses cannot perceive them!'^ Mr. Black wood was a genial and enthusiastic man, with the power of inspiring young people both in the study of science and in some forms of religious service. Like his nephew he possessed the gift of mesmerism. Henry, when he was young, met this uncle twice or thrice every year, but was not directly influenced by him. The striking resemblances, both of gifts and interests, must be put down to heredity. Mr. and Mrs. Drummond had four sons : James, Henry, Frederick, who died young, and Patrick ; and two daughters, Agnes and Jessie. Henry was born in Stirling on August 17, 1851. His father's house was then No. i Park Place, the house next to Glen- elm, which afterwards became the family home, and is still the residence of his mother. The houses stand on the southern side of the King's Park and look across to the Rock and Castle. The park was the children's playground. James and Henry were sent first to a ladies' school, and, when Henry was six or seven, to the High School of Stirling, where he re mained till he was twelve. At that time the High, or Grammar, Schools of Scotland were of various quality. Those of the larger towns received boys from nine to eleven, and sent them to the university at sixteen or seventeen. They gave a fair education in classics, English, history, mathematics, and the rudiments of French and Ger man. Boys meant for business took a course of book keeping, but natural science was almost wholly ignored. Some of the schools of the smaller towns competed successfully with those of the larger in preparation for the university; but others, taking boys at six or 1 Abridged from a notice of Mr. Blackwood by the Rev. D. Landsborough. ^T. 1-6] SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 2 1 seven, dismissed them at twelve or thirteen to business or to the more advanced schools, with a few exceptions whom they prepared for college. There was no gen eral system. Till 1859 the universities had not an en trance examination in Arts, and afterwards one only for the shortened curriculum of three, instead of four, years. The quality of the school depended on the character of the headmaster, and varied greatly from place to place and from time to time. At the close of the session, a university professor might be invited to examine, sometimes orally, sometimes in writing, but the examinations were often loose. The school discipline did not extend beyond the classes. Preparation was done at home, and a boy's habits of study largely depended on his guardians. In many a humble home in Scotland, after the day's work was done, the tired parents, or an aunt or a big sister, would bravely attack the Latin grammar, and carry their boy through his daily preparation. When Scot land's debt to her parish and burgh schoolmasters is being celebrated, I love to think of those even more heroic sacrifices of the home. They were given with out parade or the feeling that there was anything big about them; they were unknown to all but those for whom they were performed, and even by them they were often forgotten. Nor in the early sixties was a boy's play organised for him as it so largely is to-day. Yet there was little danger of loafing. A day-school boy lives in no vacuum ; at home, in the streets, and in the country around there are a hundred healthy interests of which boarding-schools know little. In Henry's time boys had their rounders, ' Dully,' a rough cricket, and a primitive football ; ' Cavey,' ' Scots and English,' ' Thieves and Police,' ' Corners,' ' Bullyable', and other 22 HENRY DRUMMOND [1858-63 running games ; sham fights and sieges, all hard and healthy sports. The long Saturday, free from school discipline, and often from the discipline of home, has always made for good in the life of a Scottish boy. It develops his independence, teaches him to plan his time, and takes him upon long and healthy adventures. Henry enjoyed his Saturday freedom even at the boarding-school in Crieff, and on a visit there many years afterwards, out of a grateful memory of what it had been to himself, he impressed on the headmaster its indispensableness to the character of the boys. There was, let it be said again, practically no loafing. Those who held aloof from sports were laughed or pommelled into a share of them. ' G and A,' says Drummond in a letter to his brother, ' are by no means so spoony as formerly, but still at times they try their old plans — walks and so forth.' It was a breezy, healthy life, and not the least part of its health was the way the ' town's school ' brought all classes of the 'town's bairns' into rivalry, both of work and play. Among Drummond's mates was a miner's son, William Durham, who carried everything before him at Stirling, and died at the close of a brilliant career in Edinburgh University. He was the original of the ' Lad of Pairts ' in the story by ' Ian Maclaren,' who himself joined Stiriing High School a few months before Drummond left it for Crieff. Drummond also remembered there the original of ' Bumbee Willie.' The boys were made to write essays. They found their way to the Macfariane Free Library, and in that dingy place hunted up their subjects in the few en cyclopedias — chiefly the Penny and the Britannica. Their own reading was mainly in Ballantyne's stories or Beadle's ' American Library ' of sixpenny books, published monthly in orange covers— Red Indian ^Er. 7-12] SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 23 tales, with white hunters for their heroes. About half a dozen of the older boys formed a ' United Book Club,' to which each contributed a weekly penny, and a cousin with more pocket-money than the rest made up the deficiencies. This bought periodicals like the Boys' Magazine and the Boys' fournal, which, in those days before rubber stamps were invented, were marked ' U. B. C with a stamp carved out of 'caum.'^ In school the English class was always opened with prayer. Every Monday morning a verse of a Psalm was repeated and a chapter read, and every Friday morning a question was asked from the Catechism. ' We envied the Episcopalians their freedom from the Catechism.' Mr. Drummond did not send his children to a Sabbath-school, but on Sunday they gathered to sing hymns, and were catechised and formally addressed by their father. They went twice to church. ' Henry was more prominent in the playground than in the class. I ^ think of him most of all in the English department. Under its distinguished teacher, Mr. Young,^ two objects received special attention, — reading aloud and grammar, analysis and composition. Henry was a beautiful reader, and more than once obtained the reading prize. I think the skill which was then developed largely helped to make him the speaker he subsequently became.' He was a rapid learner, but volatile, careless of hours, and often late for meals. Yet his family remember how through his boyhood this was the most serious fault for which he was ever rebuked. One of his hobbies was collect ing eggs. His sense of bargaining was always very 1 Soft slate or shale. 2 The Rev. John H. M'CmUoch, now of North Leith. 3 ' Mr. Young was an old white-haired man with fine manners, who taught English with much dignity and impressiveness.' — Rev. T. Crerar. 24 HENRY DRUMMOND [1858-63 Strong, and his pockets were even fuller than those of other'^boys with knives, pencils, and marbles. 'He took a foremost place in the playground, where, he was ready for any game ; there he began that acquaintance with his fellows, and that personal influence upon them, which so distinguished his years of manhood.'^ He took to cricket with enthusiasm, and some skill ; both at Stiriing and at Crieff he kept wickets for the eleven. But fishing was his favourite sport — his first rod a bamboo cane with a string at the end of it. His brother says : ' He was a better fisher than I, but when I caught my first trout he was more jubilant than if it had been his own.' Even as a boy he cast a very pretty line. He could swim, but not well. On sum mer Saturdays, with other boys, he went far up a burn among the hills behind his home, caught trout, lit a fire, scraped some poached turnips with tinkers' scraps, and bathed and cooked alternately the livelong day. Around these high excursions lay one of the most glorious landscapes even in Scotland — the Rock and its Castle, the links of Forth, Bannockburn, the Ochils, and to the northwest, the first great Bens: Lomond, Venue, Ledi, and Voirlich. He has not written of what all this was to him, and you could seldom have told from his conversation that he was a ' Son of the Rock.' But after he had seen most of the world, whenever he came back to Stirling he would take his old walk round the Castle and say to his brother, ' Man, there's no place like this — no place like Scotland ! ' ' He was not more than averagely popular among his contemporaries, and had hardly any intimate friends, but bigger boys were fond of giving him things, and he was a great favourite with men.' His 1 From reminiscences by Rev. J. H. M'Culloch. ^T. 7-12] SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 25 interest in fishing was partly the cause of this. But even in childhood he must have had some distinction which caught an experienced eye, and there were occa sions on which he took the lead of other children and impressed himself on older people, always, as witnesses testify, without any self-consciousness. The Rev. James Robertson, a famous preacher to children, was holding a service for all the Sabbath-schools of the town in Erskine United Presbyterian Church. ' The Free North School was the last to arrive, and the church being already crowded, one class was arranged on the pulpit stairs, and Henry and two other boys were taken into the pulpit itself. Mr. Robertson be gan his sermon by saying that the Bible is like a tree, each book a branch, each chapter a twig, and each verse a leaf. " My text is on the thirty-ninth branch, the third twig, and the seventeenth leaf. Try and find it for me." Almost immediately Henry slipped from behind him and said, " Malachi third and seven teen." — " Right, my boy ; now take my place and read it out." Then from the pulpit came the silvery voice: " And they shall be Mine, saith the Lord of Hosts, in that day when I m.ake up My jewels." Mr. Robertson laid his hand on the boy's head and said : " Well done. I hope one day you will be a minister." ' ^ With this picture we may take another, which we owe to the good fortune that John Watson came to Stirling High School shortly before Henry left it for Crieff: — 'It was in the King's Park more than thirty years ago that I first saw Drummond, and on our first meeting he produced the same effect upon me that he did all his after life. The sun was going down behind Ben Lomond, in the happy summer time, touching with gold the grey old castle, deepen- 1 From reminiscences by Mr. Fotheringham. 26 HENRY DRUMMOND [1858-63 ing the green upon the belt of trees which fringed the east ern side of the park, and filling the park itself with soft, mellow light. A cricket match between two schools had been going on all day and was coming to an end, and I had gone out to see the result, being a new arrival in Stirling and full of curiosity. The two lads at the wickets were in striking contrast — one heavy, stockish, and determined, who slogged powerfully and had scored well for his side ; the other nimble, alert, graceful, who had a pretty but uncertain play. The slogger was forcing the running in order to make up a heavy leeway, and compelled his partner to run once too often. "It's all right and you fellows are not to cry shame," — this was what he said as he joined his friends, — "Buchanan is playing A i, and that hit ought to have been a four ; I messed the running." It was good form, of course, and what any decent lad would want to say, but there was an accent of gaiety and a certain air which was very taking. Against that group of clumsy, unformed, awkward Scots lads, this bright, straight, living figure stood out in relief, and as he moved about the field my eyes followed him, and in my boyish and dull mind I had a sense that he was a type by himself, a visitor of finer breed than those among whom he moved. By and by he mounted a friend's pony and galloped along the racecourse in the park till one saw only a speck of white in the sunlight, and still I watched in wonder and fascination — only a boy of thirteen or so, and dull — till he came back, in time to cheer the slogger who had pulled off the match with three runs to spare — and carried his bat. ' "Well played, old chap," the pure, clear, joyous note rang out on the evening air; "finest thing you've ever done," while the strong-armed, heavy-faced slogger stood still and looked at him in admiration, and made amends. "I say, Drummond, it was my blame you were run out. ..." Drummond was his name, and some one said " Henry." So I first saw my friend. ' What impressed me that pleasant evening in the days of long ago I can now identify. It was the lad's distinction, an inherent quality of appearance and manner of character and soul which marked him and made him solitary.' -**• 7-12] SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 27 When Henry was twelve, James and he were sent to Morison's Academy at Crieff. They boarded with the rector, Mr. Ogilvie, one of a band of able brothers who have done noble service for education in Scotland. After two years James entered his father's business, but Henry stayed on to prepare for the university. A series of letters to James and his parents record the details of a very happy life. He begins German and learns chess and whist. Mr. Ogilvie introduces a weekly lecture on Natural Philosophy, and an air- pump and electrical apparatus are purchased to the excitement of the school. The football club gets its first Rugby ball and proper goals. There is fishing in the Turret, and skating on the loch of Ochtertyre. The boys rehearse for theatricals; Henry is to be a lady. Christy ministrels are coming, but Henry has seen from the Stirling paper that the troupe is not a good one, and dissuades the rector from taking the school to see them! And so on. These letters are charming, but their charm cannot be conveyed in quo tations. They are written with some promise of his later style — subject to frequent misspellings. There is much shrewdness and humour in describing his masters and schoolmates, an independent judgment, which is adverse, of a tract sent him from home, a touch of sarcasm when he has succeeded to his older brother's topcoat and congratulates the latter on his new one, a healthy power of chaff, a bit of boyish bru tality in reporting that ' J. has typhous {sic) fever; poor fellow, it will weaken him sadly, but he needed some thing of that kind to tame him,' and just one touch of priggishness. Thrqughout there beats a strong sym pathy with all at home, and a very pretty desire that father, mother, brothers, and sisters should each have some pleasure. The habit thus formed was retained. 28 HENRY DRUMMOND [1863-66 Till the end Drummond almost never missed writing his mother so that she should get a letter every Saturday night. I have presented these details of Henry Drum mond's early years, not because I deem them singular, but because this natural boyhood, eageriy enjoyed, was the secret of his life-long sympathy with boys, and of his wonderful influence over them. To the end he preserved the vivid memory, which only the pure in heart preserve, of what he himself had been as a boy : at what queer angles he had seen the world; what had interested and what had tempted him;. what he had understood in the religion he was taught and what he silently dropped. That religion was evan gelical Christianity of a doctrinal form, strict in its adherence to a somewhat dry routine of preaching and teaching, but not gloomy nor ascetic, for it forbade no amusements, allowed the boys to lead an athletic life, to play chess and whist, to learn dancing, and as they grew older to go to dancing parties. The boys were patriotic, as boys could not help being who lived under Stirling Castle, and public-spirited, for Mr. Drum mond's large share in social movements interested and did not weary his children. If the area of religious experience was denominational, this involved no bitter ness, but merely an ignorance of the works of other Churches, which, Henry once naively told me, was the source to him afterwards of the most delightful sur prises at the great amount of good in the world. From his home discipline Henry carried away a neatness and punctuality that lasted all his days. His schoolmates have emphasised the unselfishness of the boy, and unselfishness was the note of his life to the end. But the most beautiful thing which the letters reveal is the full confidence between parents and chil- /Er. 12-15] SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 29 dren, so that the latters' own powers of judgment were fostered, and their humour had free play. It is a healthy home where the old and the young folk have the same jokes. In July, 1866, Henry left Crieff with prizes for Latin and English, and for an essay on 'War and Peace.' In October, being fifteen years of age, very small, and haunted by a fear that he would not grow, he matriculated at Edinburgh University. During the first session he lodged with two older students, Crerar and Carmichael, who superintended his studies. He was still the boy, and it is amusing to see how his habits of chaffering and exchange were developed. He haunted the auction rooms of Edinburgh, and made bargains which would have been great if he had had any use for the articles — two guitars which he did learn to play,^ and other instruments which he did not learn. He advertised his ' eggs in exchange for money or a telescope,' and was pestered by a dealer ' with offers of articles enough to fill a pawnshop.' He went to look over the wall of Pitt Street Gymnasium and take stock of the new velocipedes. ' I do not know what to think of them. They are as light as a feather, and look rather startling (' Did you see Punch's cartoon, " Riding upon Nawthin' ? '" ), and go at a great pace, but appear to oscillate and waggle in what I should think was a rather unpleasant manner. However, I daresay the "By-Cyclones" were all greenhorns. It takes a few lessons before you become expert, which is a great blessing, as it would prevent everybody asking " to try it " if any of us ever have one. The Parisian kind are being advertised on all hands. I saw a genuine one, 1 ' " What do you want with two ? " we said in our proud seniority. " Oh, I can sell one of them for the price of the two," which, however, he never did. He got ribbon about the guitar, and pirouetted, twanging it right musically and heartily.' — Rev. T. Crerar. 30 HENRY DRUMMOND [1866-67 a beauty, price ^8. They have them dearer. An Edinburgh firm, I believe, are making them much cheaper — and with an improved drag, a most inge nious and easily worked thing — some say £2 10 s. Sho! I cannot get at the truth. One could easily make one if a pattern were given.' So he kept his eyes open to everything that would interest his brother at Stiriing. He had, too, a pretty tact and sympathy with the varied sorts of folk among whom he was thrown for the next four years. He explains why he cannot offend his fellow-lodgers by introducing to the common table (at his father's suggestion and expense) more than his proper share of dainties. He appreciates his landladies, humorously describes their babies to his mother, and gives a genial account of the many characters which the pilgrim from lodging to lodging constantly encounters.^ In the first year of Arts at Edinburgh University in those days there was much on which one looks back now with considerable amusement. The stu dents were either boys or bearded men, fresh from the plough and the workshop. In classics and mathe matics the junior classes were below the standard of the senior forms in the High Schools. They worked through several Latin and Greek authors, not the most difficult, did a heap of prose exercises, and learned several books of Euclid with a little algebra. The freshmen carried large oak sticks to class, cut and 1 The Rev. T. Crerar sends the following reminiscence from Drummond's first year in lodgings : ' Once the two older students (Carmichael and I) sampled too well before he returned a lot of toffee that had been sent to him. He expressed no sorrow, though toffee was sweet at that time, and the seniors felt remorse at the result of their preying on his good nature. But a morning or two after he had his revenge. He rushed into our room, saying, " Some one died of cholera in that bed, perhaps in the very sheets you are lying in." We rose in horror and dismay. Then he pointed the finger and retreated. The death had happened eight years before ! The toffee was avenged.' ^T. 15-16] SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 31 bludgeoned the desks, snowballed the traffic on the South Bridge, and by general subscription in copper paid their ringleaders' fines, both to the University and the Police authorities. They formed a debaring soci ety, the Philomathic, which the older societies scorned as juvenile and as rustic and vulgar, nicknamed ' the Pheelomawthic' Its ambitions were not mean. Be sides the usual historical questions to which school boys devote themselves, it determined week by week the rank of the great stars of literature and solved the most abstruse economic problems; but it was also practical, reviewing once a year the policy of the Gov ernment. In Drummond's time it disposed of the Irish Church, decided against the education of women, re formed the Game Laws, and drew up a new programme of the Arts curriculum. But it grew most passionate upon its own constitution and upon points of order. Then its eloquence blew vast and was beaten into the desks with the oak sticks. Partly through a dislike of classics, Henry took an erratic course through Arts. The first year, 1866-67, he had Senior Humanity under Professor Sellar and English with Professor Masson. The second year he took Junior Greek with Professor Blackie, Logic and Metaphysics with Professor Fraser, and Junior Mathe matics with Professor Kelland ; and the third year Second Mathematics and Natural Philosophy with Professor Tait. It was under Professor Tait that Drummond first woke up to something more than the performance of routine, and his notebooks have full transcripts of the lectures with diagrams of the ex periments. Yet he only gained the fourteenth place in a class of one hundred and fifty. In the spring of 1869 he passed the examination in mathematics and physics for the degree of M.A. In his fourth session he took 32 HENRY DRUMMOND [1867-70 Senior Greek, Senior Humanity for the second time, and Moral Philosophy with Professor Calderwood. His essays for the latter were on the ' Reliability of Consciousness,' ' The Moral Faculty,' and ' The Dic tum of Comte : that causes are inacessible, we must therefore substitute the Study of Laws.' They are pretty good, but betray an amusing tendency to re vert to the subject of animal magnetism, with which Drummond was beginning to be fascinated. In April, 1870, he closed his Arts course by pass ing the degree examinations in Mental Philosophy. ' I had never courage,' he wrote, ' to attempt the clas sical department of the M.A,' During his divinity course he came back to the University for Botany, Chemistry, Zoology, in which he took second place with seventy-six per cent., and Geology, in which he won the class medal. But, although he tried twice, he failed to pass the first part of the Bachelor of Science examination and left the University without a degree. To one of his more successful friends he wrote : ' J. W. addresses me " two-thirds M.A." I wish the University was liberal enough to reward a martyr like myself with its precious degree upon credit, and I am almost inclined to petition the Senate to that effect.' Meanwhile Drummond had put himself under an other discipline, in which it is possible to see the development of his later powers, chiefly his powers of observation and his style of writing English. At the beginning of his second session he attended a meeting of the Philomathic Society and was proposed as a member, — against his will, he says, but neverthe less there and then he made his first speech, — an undergrown boy of sixteen with auburn hair, a bonny fresh face, and keen eyes. His first essay, on ' Novels ^T. 16-19] SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 33 and Novel-reading,' followed in two months. 'It was not an utter failure and the old hands praised it,' he wrote to his mother, to whom alone of all his corre spondents he repeats any praise that he has heard of himself. In 1868 some members of the Society started, in monthly manuscript, ' The Philomathic, a Literary Magazine conducted by a few of the Alumni of Edinburgh University.' It lived for eight months. Drummond was the editor, and contributed in Janu ary, 1869, an essay on ' Mesmerism and Animal Mag netism.' This is an enthusiastic defence of the sincerity and usefulness of a movement then under much ridi cule. It asserts as indubitable the evidence of the ability of one man's will to induce certain states in others. ' How probable this is in a reasonable universe ! The Creator cannot have isolated men from each other nor shut each up in his own prison body. In the hu man body he has engrafted a life-giving, communi cable, and curative power ! . . . Mesmerism has been proved to be a better anaesthetic than chloroform. . . . With such serious and beneficial results its practice for amusement ought to be seriously condemned. . . . Mesmerism must prevail ; only in its infancy, it will some day be recognised as Nature's universal cura tive agent,' and so forth. The usual pleas on be half of a process which had not (at least in this country) obtained the attention from scientific authori ties which it has since gained are advanced with force and clearness. But the interest of the paper lies in the fact that Drummond himself had practised upon others the power of mesmerism. ' It was at that time,' writes the Rev. J. H. M'Culloch, ' that he developed an aptitude for what was then known as electro-biology. The student who shared rooms with me proved a capital subject and Drummond could do anything he 34 HENRY DRUMMOND [1867-70 liked with him without giving offence. Once I remember being in the University reading-room when this student came in, walked up to where I was sitting, and without a word took his watch off the chain and handed it to me. I looked up and saw at once what was what. I asked him what he had been about, and he told me that Drummond had been prac tising on him. I told him that he should ask him for his watch, and then when I found that he had no recollection of having given it to me, I handed it back to him and told him that this sort of thing should come to an end.' Why Drummond gave up this practice I do not exactly know. I have heard that it was because he was once startled by the unforeseen length to which his influence had gone upon another student, though the latter at the time it was exercised was living at a distance from him. So much for the paper on 'Animal Magnetism.' Drummond also contributed to the de bates in the Philomathic, speaking against the Irish Church and in favour of the education of women, the latter on the grounds of the 'awful crime of leaving any mind untrained and of the terribly unintellectual state of the average girl of the period ! ' He had begun to form a library and to read for him self. He bought some books at auctions. He has read, he says, Channing's works, some of Ruskin's and of Robertson's of Brighton, Lamb's Essays, Shenstone and Cowley, Lowell and the American humourists. He must have read largely in poetry, chiefly in Cowley, Pope, Byron, and Lowell, for his papers of this time have many unhackneyed quotations from all of these. He had faUen under the spell of Ruskin. At the election of Lord Rector of the University in 1868 he canvassed for him, as against the political candidates, Mr. Robert Lowe and Lord Advocate Moncrieff. But the best proof of how rapidly Drummond was educating himself in argument and style appears from Mt. 15-18] SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 35 two papers and a little bundle of notes for a third. In 1870 he delivered his valedictory address as Presi dent of the Philomathic, and after expounding the advantages of debate, contrasted the lecture, conver sation, and reading as a means of gaining knowledge. 'The lecture,' he says, 'is the best means. If it has fallen into disrepute in our day, that is because there are no good lecturers. The advantage of public teaching lies in the sympathy which it creates. A lecturer, however, should not be conversational. He is as much out of place as a lecturing conversa tionalist.' ' The matter of a lecture is the pedantry of conversation.' He passes on to reading : ' Books are the great delusion of the present age. We find them everywhere. Nature is mocked and put in the back ground.' ' A good book is as valuable as a good friend, but he who has too many books, like him who has too many friends, is sure to be led away by some of them.' ' Most neglect the great end of reading. The thing sought is not what you will get in an author, but what the author will enable you to find in yourself. Unreflective minds possess thoughts as a jug does water, only by containing them ; if pebbles be dropped in the water, if the thought of another plunges in among our own, the contents brim over and we discover in ourselves sentiments and ideas which, apart from certain external conditions of development, had never been formed, and the mind had been left in perpetual slumber.' ' The great danger of reading is superficiality. Many read far too much.' The second of the papers mentioned above was one of several sent about this time (1870, when he was not nineteen) to the editors of magazines and returned by them. This one was offered to Cassell's Magazine. It is entitled ' The Abuse of the Adjective.' 36 HENRY DRUMMOND [187° After a couple of pages against slang, 'by the introduction of which our language is losing its solid, classic grandeur and becoming enfeebled and diluted with a wretched levity,' he goes on to speak of ' an internal enemy, a more subtle because less apparent danger, the indiscriminate use of adjectives. 'Adjectives have become cosmopolitan. Immensity, minute ness, rotundity, profundity, astronomy, gastronomy, emotions, monkeys, feelings, frying-pans, mountains, mouse-traps, trees, toothpicks, sunsets, and sewing-machines are all qualified in turn by exactly the same set of adjectives. . . . Appropri ateness of meaning seems utterly lost sight of, and all are used promiscuously, apparently with but one object, to add strength to an otherwise insipid observation. In short, the prevailing opinion and province of an adjective seems to be "A big word, having no special significance of its own, employed to give force and liveliness to a sentence consist ing otherwise of plain, common-sense words." That deli cacy of expression is sacrificed to elaboration, and exactness of description to sonorousness, further appears from the increased use of qualifying Adverbs, as well as from the fre quency with which the Superlative degree is employed. . . . Not the least dangerous quality of this manner of expression is its infectiousness. It runs through a community like an epi demic and its opponents take to it in self-defence. . . . Mild language does not do at all. Every man is a braggart. The desire to say a strong thing has grown almost irresistible, and truth becomes sacrificed to strength and impressibility {sic).' 'Those most addicted to the habit are Ladies. . . . Our Ladies, in conversation at least, are no longer the Gentle Sex. They have grown in their ideas masculine, and in their expression of them barbarous. When the voice of Beauty is heard it speaks in uncouth tones. But professional men, who ought to be free of the habit, have also succumbed. Some men have a notion that this manner of " piling on " the adjective constitutes raciness. When the conversation is flippant m se it is not so extremely objectionable. Truly, if we talk nonsense, we ought to talk it well, z.e. well nonsensi cally. But what we complain of is that a deal of sense is in the language of nonsense. . . . Language should be sub ordinate to thought, not thought to language. . . . Com- JET. 1 8] SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 37 monplace people are deluded by the habit. They mistake the half-dozen really good thoughts which every fool pos sesses for the revelation of the hidden glory of a great mind. But so far from serving any utilitarian purpose the habit of multiplying adjectives really makes a sentence less impres sive than if simple words had been used. There is a natural tendency to suspect insincerity whenever the language is extraordinary enough to suggest strain or effort on the part of the author.' The paper then illustrates from ballads, children's stories, and the Bible the simplicity of the greatest literature, and closes with the practical exhortation : ' If the danger be pointed out, there is surely no reasonable individ ual who would not sacrifice any slight gratification it may afford him for the sake of the issues at stake, the corruption versus the preservation of the English language.' The bundle of notes referred to were in prepa ration for an article in the Stirling Observer upon Alva Glen — Drummond's earliest published writing. They reveal a keen sense of beauty and an extra ordinary care in sketching natural facts. Every boulder in the glen, every turn of the banks, every twist and cascade in the burn, the geological forma tions, the colouring of the rocks, the fragrances of the wood, the sounds of human industry that penetrate to the furthest corners, the features of the sky-line, the distant prospects, are all noted in a series of rapid impressive clauses that succeed in making a stranger to the scene feel as if he were viewing it.' I have quoted all this, not so much for its own sake, though a deal of it is very clever, but because it shows how diligently and how sanely Drummond prepared the clear and brilliant style for which he afterwards became famous. There is no evidence in any of his 1 There exists, too, a curious paper entitled ' Treason among the Tombs,' due to a visit to Glasnevin Cemetery, Dublin, and the sight of ^-"-/^f ^ J° ^"^Tce shot or hung during the Fenian rebellion. He is shocked by the open defiance of Great Britain which the inscriptions record, and makes a number of sound remarks upon the problems of British government in Ireland. 38 HENRY DRUMMOND [1870 essays at this time of an original capacity of thought ; but there is abundant proof of unusually keen powers of observation, of a fine and healthy taste in letters, and of distinct powers of illustration and interpreta tion — all of them exercised with a sanity and matu rity not less than remarkable from a boy of just over eighteen years of age. ' One thing,' writes Mr. M'Culloch, ' which struck me at college was the fash ion in which Drummond laid himself out in a quiet way thoroughly to know how those around him looked at things. He had the faculty of putting himself en rapport with everybody. Everybody liked him, too, because he was never inquisitorial. He gained the confidence of others almost without their knowing it, and they were glad they had been so frank with him. This, too, became a characteristic in that larger world where he ultimately found his vocation.' During his University course Drummond had shot up into a tall man, graceful when at rest, and moving with a litheness and a spring that were all his own. A fellow-student ' thus remembers him : ' He often stood in a thoughtful manner, or sauntered about the northeast corner of the college quadrangle between classes. He generally wore a tall hat, and had long auburn hair. Though I fain would have spoken to him, his ethereal appearance and great grace and refinement seemed to forbid an approach to one who appeared different from the majority of the students. He was generally alone. Indeed, his apparent loneh ness first drew my attention to him. He seemed to have no companions as the other students had, but was only one of them, handsome, bright, and silent. He struck me as one possessed by great thoughts, which were polarising in his mind and giving a happy expression to his face.' 1 Now Dr. H. M. Church of Edinburgh. CHAPTER III PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY 'During his Arts curriculum Henry Drummond formed no plans for his future, beyond some thought of finding his way into the Divinity Hall of the Free Church of Scotland.' ^ To this there was much to dispose him, and he had already passed through some religious experience. In his last illness he told Professor Simpson that 'when he was twelve he had a great work goino- through Bonar's God's Way of Peace, but thinks it did him harm.' While he was a student, he attended some mission services at Cambusbarron. He was profoundly impressed by the addresses he heard, and soon after told his father that he wished to enter the ministry.^ In Edinburgh he shared his lodgings with several divinity students ; and in Stirling he met many ministers and evangelists, among them Dr. Binnie of the Reformed Presbyterian Church, to whose kindness in counsel he afterwards looked back with gratitude. The first notice of his intentions occurs in a letter to a fellow-student of date April, 1870. 'Are you not sorry to leave the University ? I feel it very much. Altho' I intend to enter the Church Hall next winter, it is still a degeneracy to go 1 From recollections by the Rev. J. H. M'Culloch. ' From recollections by Mr. Fotheringham. The Cambusbarron Mission was in charge of the Rev. Alexander Macdonald, now of Ardclach; and the special services were conducted by Mr. Stephen Burrows, now evangehst at Naples. 39 40 HENRY DRUMMOND [1^7° from an ancient University to a nameless college! Happily I shall still be a student. I have now to commence the pleasant study of Hebrew, and have the prospect of being plucked in that particular branch at the F. C. Board Examination in July. For tunately I know the alphabet from the 1 19th Psalm ! ' On May 15th he began Hebrew by himself, and soon after made a literal translation of some of the Psalms. On July 26th he passed the Board. In the summer he had taken a tutorship in a family in Kincardineshire and he there spent his nineteenth birthday — his first from home. It cast him into a train of serious reflection. ' May I never be too hardened to let these annual milestones sweep by unwept for! In looking back on my past years I see nothing but an un broken change of Mercies. Few lives have been as happy as mine. The rod of affiiction may conquer many, but if I am subdued at all I have been "killed with kindness" — unmerited, unre quited, unsolicited, unexampled kindness. " What can I render unto God for all His gifts to me ? " Alas ! I have rendered nothing, nothing but evil. The only misery I have endured has been of my own creation — the confusion of face for my own iniquity, the mournings for sins that were past, and the consciousness of my own guilt before God. For days I have felt ashamed to look up to Him and too wicked to approach His foot stool. I believe I have discovered by my own sad experience the true meaning and justice of His attributes, "Longsuffering," "Plenteous in Mercy," etc. O that these humiliating periods of darkness were at an end ! I think I can honestly Mt. 19] PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY 41 say that the chief desire of my heart is to be rec onciled unto God and to feel the light of His countenance always upon me. As honestly, I think, I can say that God in His great goodness has given me little care for the things of the world. I have been enabled to see the extreme httleness of the worid in comparison with the great Hereafter [so] that the temptations of the former seem as nothing to the attractions of the latter, and I cannot be too thankful that I have been thus spared being whirled into the vor tex of the cares of this life and the deceitfulness of riches. This may sound like vainglory, but I am far too deep in the abyss of sin to deceive myself in that respect. I say it not boastfully but in fear and trembling, with deep humiliation that all these mercies have made me little better than if I had them not.' This religious crisis happened to Drummond in the form which we should have expected from his upbring ing. He had inherited a pure and healthy nature. He had been kept from the grosser sins of youth and he was always patient and unselfish. But with the religious doctrines of Evangelicalism there had also come to him a very sensitive moral temper. The Evangelical movement had many defects, which in his younger days Henry shared and which we shall see him un learning; but when, as in his case, sincerity was the atmosphere of the home in which its doctrines were taught, it succeeded in creating in the children a ten der and scrupulous conscience, and by urging them to the consideration above all of their personal rela tion to a just and merciful God, it strongly developed the sense, while they were still young, of their Individ- 42 HENRY DRUMMOND C'^T" ual responsibility. To have felt the awful peril of one's own character; to have wakened into the won der of God's patience with one's unworthy life; to have known in one's own experience the power of man's soul to turn and repent — these are the essen tials of religious experience and the indispensable apprenticeship of a religious teacher. It is not necessary that every man should violently break into this sense of God's grace, out of the intoxication of some vicious passion or from the weariness and de spair of a long habit of evil. Pure minds hke Henry Drummond's will feel as powerfully the accumulated memories — an avalanche of them loosened perhaps by some gentle touch — of a lifetime of God's com mon mercies and of His daily patience with their wil ful ways. For this is a wonder, of which every day deepens the awe to their sensitive hearts. Once when talking of ' sudden conversions ' I asked Drum mond whether he had passed through one. ' No,' he said, after thinking for a little, ' I cannot say I did.' ^ ' But,' he added, ' I have seen too many ever to doubt their reality.' Drummond was thoroughly sane. With the deep seriousness of his nature there mingled a strong humour and an equally strong joy in sport, of which his letters of this summer bear many signs. He had a great deal of fishing, and with jubilation over his first grilse he fills of his brief diary nearly as much as he gives to the spiritual reflections I have quoted. In October we have an instance of his fun. Before besin- ning his divinity course he had to be examined by the Presbytery of Stirling. This is a right which the Presbyteries of the Church have jealously maintained over the theological students within their bounds. ^ Compare Dr. Stalker's testimony below, p. 70. ^T. 19] PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY 43 But, except in the matter of personal religion, the students have always resented this superintendence; and justly, for their competence in scholarship and theology is so far secured by the General Assembly's Examination Board. Hebrew — unfortunately for those who teach it — is not regarded by the average man as indispensable to the preacher, and the para digms of its grammar are especially irksome to men who have already toiled through a university course. In the beginning of October Drummond wrote a friend: 'J. W. and I passed the Presbytery exam. yesterday with much eclat. We took the precaution beforehand to hide the Presbytery's Hebrew Bible in the coal-scuttle; so we got no examination in Hebrew.' In November Drummond entered New CoUege, Edinburgh, the youngest of twenty-five or thirty stu dents who formed the First Year. The divinity course of the Free Church of Scotland occupies four winter sessions, and thus at New College there are always some hundred regular students of the Church, besides twenty or thirty others from America, Ireland, and the Reformed Churches of the Continent of Europe. Among a hundred men studying for the same profes sion there is bound to be closer fellowship than among the far larger number of students and the more scat tered interests of the Arts course; and during Drum mond's time at New College this bond was further strengthened by the institution of a common dinner- table. Given a certain proportion of able men, the atmosphere of the College was always genial and stimulating. One remembers not only greater matu rity, but more buoyancy, more humour, and more camaraderie than in the University. When Drummond entered, Robertson Smith had 44 HENRY DRUMMOND [1870 just left. Andrew Harper, now Professor of Hebrew at Melbourne, and David Patrick (now editor of Cham bers's Encyclopcedia) were in their third year. W. G. Elmslie, afterwards Professor of Hebrew in the Pres byterian College of London, was in his second year, and during Drummond's time Smith, Harper, and Elmslie were in succession Dr. Davidson's assistants. In his own year were James Stalker, John Watson, and two other of his intimate friends : A. S. Paterson, who died in 1875, at Uitenhage, in South Africa, and John F. Ewing, who did such noble work in Melbourne before his early death there in 1890. Two years after Drummond there came up to the New College Peter Thomson, of whose great abilities we must speak later; and D. M. Ross, the assistant to the Professor of Logic in the University. The mutual part of their education the students transacted chiefly in the Theological Society, which met on Friday even ings. Drummond must have had some reputation as a speaker, for, although the youngest man in College, he was asked, in the absence of the student appointed, to lead off the negative side of a debate, ' Ought the government to provide for the teaching of the Bible in schools ? ' He also spoke for the affirmative of the debate, 'Ought the Church to introduce an order of lay evangelists.?' and in his letters home he makes more of this speech than of the other. The College Missionary Society met on Saturday mornings to hear addresses, and to arrange the conduct of a college mission in a district, then somewhere in the neigh bourhood of the Cowgate. One of the students was missionary-in-charge, and others helped him with the meetings and taught in the Sabbath-school. In this work Drummond took his share with great heart. The families he visited were in Covenant Close. ^T. 19] PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY 45 The First Year's classes were Junior Hebrew under Dr. Davidson, Apologetics with Dr. Blaikie, Natural Science with Dr. Duns, and a short course of lectures on Evangelistic Theology from the famous Indian mis sionary, Dr. Duff. Dr. Duff, then in extreme old age, had preserved much of the fire and volume of speech which in their prime had swept through Scotland and carried public opinion on Missions to the pitch of enthusiasm. And still his reverend figure moved through the college, an object of awe to young men who knew nothing of his earlier triumphs. But the six weeks allowed for his subject were all too few for the scale on which he planned his lectures and for the enormous mass of details that he threw into them. He had two parallel courses, both magnificent torsos. One, on the History of Missions, began with the eternal decrees and broke off with the early Church. Another, on Hindoo Theology, did not seem to our bewildered minds even to arrive on the margin of history. Little wonder that so rich and fiery a brain blazed out in indignation upon the indifference of young men who had neither the theological power nor the apostolic fervour of their teacher. We could not follow the incarnations of Vishnu, nor rouse our interest in the patriarchs before Abraham. ' How many gods have the Hindoos, Mr. ?' Dr. Duff asked a luckless student of Drummond's year. The student kicked Drummond, who sat next to him and who whispered, ' I don't know, about twenty-five, I think.' 'Twenty-five!' shouted the student, gaily. ' Twenty-five, Mr. ! Twenty-five ! Twenty-five milhon of millions!' There were not many of the Edinburgh students who gave themselves to foreign missions. We sorely tried the great missionary's heart. Nothing could have been kinder or more ^e> 46 HENRY DRUMMOND [1870-71 unselfish than his treatment of us ; he was very zealous to interest each man in India. Drummond shared the common apathy. Besides, his mind was not of the order that was carried away by romance or by the en thusiasm of others. He needed the touch with the concrete, and this he got years afterwards on his travels in Africa and the East, with the result that among all testimonies to foreign missions in the last half-century none are more thorough or more sincere than his.^ It was to Natural Science that Drummond chiefly devoted himself at New College, and he easily carried off the first prize. But his note-books proved that he worked hard both at Hebrew and Apologetics. Besides the grammar. Dr. Davidson then gave to the First Year a few lectures introductory to the Higher Criticism of the Pentateuch. It was by such lectures that Dr. Davidson started in the early seventies the great movement of Old Testament study which has characterised Scottish theology during the last thirty years. He did not then take his students beyond the positions reached by Ewald ; but that was suflicient to break up the mechanical ideas of inspiration which then prevailed in the churches, while with the teacher's own wonderful insight into the spiritual meaning of Scripture it made the student's own use of his Bible more rational and lively, and laid upon a sounder basis the proof of a real revelation in the Old Testament. Drummond took very full notes of Dr. Davidson's lec tures. In the class of Apologetics he chose for the statutory homily which he had to deliver, ' The Six Days of Creation,' a subject which combined his inter est in the Old Testament and his knowledge of Natural 1 Later than his course Dr. Carstairs Douglas pleaded with him to go to China, and impressed him much, but nothing came of this. ^T. 19-20] PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY 47 Science, while a year later he wrote for the class of Sys tematic Theology an essay on ' The Doctrine of Crea tion.' He treated this under two heads, the Creation of Matter and the Creation of the World. Under the for mer he held the question of the Eternity of Matter to be insoluble. Under the latter he put the question whether the world as explained by Modern Science was irreconcilable with the Scriptural statement of Creation? Certain scientific schools undoubtedly demand 'Matter without a Maker, Intelligence with Law but no Liberty, and Life with Liberty but no Responsibility.' The most glorious attribute of their 'deity' is physical necessity, and his highest prin ciple of action utilitarianism. But granted that Nat ural Selection and Evolution are facts, they are not irreconcilable with the belief that God has created and sustains the world. On the contrary ' this belief can allow them a very prominent place,' but on the distinct understanding that this place has been previously as signed them by God, and that they are under His super vision and care. Looked at from this point of view, the principle of Natural Selection becomes a real and beau tiful acquisition to Natural Theology, and Mr. Darwin's work on The Origiit of Species may be regarded as per haps the most important contribution to the Literature of Apologetics which the nineteenth century has pro duced. The same year Drummond delivered to some Society an address upon Evolution. He affirmed the principle of Development as an eternal principle, the emphasis upon which 'has been the century's noblest contribution to Theology'; but he criticised Darwin's enunciation of it on three points: 'He ignores the existence of a personal God, denies God's sovereignty, and denies the existence of design in the Universe.' These notes of college essays, juvenile and crude, are 48 HENRY DRUMMOND [1870-73 of interest as the first steps of Drummond's mind towards the work of his later years. But at this stage Drummond did not see how to apply the principle of development to the origins of Scripture and the story of Revelation. In an essay which he wrote for the class of Apologetics, he asks: ' How can development explain the Bible? The stages of development are missing. There is an impas sable o'ulf between the Bible and the rest of Hebrew hterature. . . . The Old Testament is infinitely above the religions of the peoples who surrounded Israel.' It has ' no cumbrous ritual, doubtful morals, nor mythical elements.' ' Theoretically its religion is not only an anomaly to the Hebrew nature, but to human nature.' The one sound element in this part of his paper is the emphasis which he lays upon the 'inability of the Jew to reach unaided by Divine help the highest doctrines of his religion, for in so many cases those ran counter to even his best natural ideals and expectations.' For all the rest Drummond as yet stood upon the ground of the older orthodoxy, with its doctrine of literal inspiration, and its blind belief in the absolutely divine character of everything in the Hebrew Scriptures. Blind indeed, else how could he, or that older orthodoxy in general, have believed that there are no links of development between the Old Testament and the religions from the midst of which it sprang, or that in the Old Testament itself there are ' no cumbrous ritual, doubtful morals, nor mythical elements ' ? This college essay is of interest to us, as indicating the grounds on which Drummond stood during his first great mission, but which he afterwards abandoned for others, not less evangelical nor less capable of defending a true revelation in Scripture, but more ^T. 19-21] PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY 49 rational and more jn accordance with the facts of Scripture itself. At the very point at which a theo logical student is most disposed to be sceptical — the close of his first session in theology — Drummond ac cepted orthodox Christianity, not after any passionate struggle towards the contrary, nor with any strength of original thought, but upon a full knowledge of the issues, and after serious consideration. The absence of all trace of revolt is characteristic. Drummond never appears to have passed through a crisis of that kind, or, if he did, it was of the mildest kind; and when the symptoms appeared in younger men, he treated them as temporary. He called them ' measles.' And the effect is seen in all his teaching, as well as in the limitation of his influence on certain classes of minds. To Drummond the Christian experience of faith was one not so much of struggle as of growth. One is sometimes impatient with his beautiful way of putting this.^ But he expounded as he himself had experienced. His temperament was the artistic, which is sensitive to whatever is lovely and of good report, and which does not struggle against what is hostile and superfluous, but simply ignores it, as Drummond did with certain doctrines upon which at first he laid such emphasis. But he had the artistic temperament with two additions — a most unselfish consideration for the beliefs and prejudices of older people, and a most warm moral sense. ' I cannot conceive ' (he writes in the last of the essays we have quoted) ' of such a thing as the moderate punishment of sin, for "every sin deserves God's wrath and curse to all eternity." ' This, though in the words of the Catechism, was no mere echo of the religious school in which he had been brought up, but the cry of his own heart. Sin, wrong- 1 See farther on, Natural la-w in the Spiritual World, in chap. iv. JO HENRY DRUMMOND ['^73 doing, self-indulgence, were the only subjects upon which, to the end of his life, we ever heard hot words from him. The sessions at New College, 1871-72 and 1872-73, were occupied with the regular classes, — Senior He brew, New Testament Exegesis, Systematic Theology, and Church History. In March, 1872, Drummond wrote a paper on ' The Person of Christ : His Divinity sketched from Certain Aspects of Atonement.' He continued to take part in the debates of the Theo logical Society, of which, in 1873, he was elected one of the three Presidents, along with Stalker and Pater son. He also taught a class of boys in the Sabbath- school of the College Mission. He was anxious to fill up the long evenings with study, but found many dis tractions. His reading included Ruskin, George Eliot, Carlyle, especially Sartor Resart-us, much poetry, and The Eclipse of Faith, in appreciation of which he came to hard words with a fellow-student. In the summer of 1 87 1 he went to Ireland, and wrote the account of political feeling referred to in the last chapter. He had much fishing and a walking tour in the Highlands. Everything is vividly described, and his letters are full of humour. It was during these two sessions that he took the Science classes at the University, to which reference has been made. Professor Archibald Geikie offered him a geological tutorship in November, 1872. At the close of his third session, in April, 1873, Drummond did what a number of Scottish divinity students do every year — went to a German university for the summer semester. Their favourite resorts used to be Berlin, where Dillmann and Dorner were ; Halle, so long as Tholuck was alive; Erlangen, while De- litzsch and Hoffmann were there; Gbttingen, both be- ^T. 22] PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY 5 I fore and after Ewald's death ; and Tubingen, where, though Baur had died some years before. Beck was still lecturing, and succeeding to a great measure of Tholuck's influence, Weizsacker taught the New Tes tament, the great Sanscrit scholar. Roth, gave a course on the ' General History of Religions,' and Wilhelm Pressel, most learned and most genial of Pfarrers, opened his Pfarrhaus at Wankheim to all Scottish students and introduced them to the German lan guage and German theology. Drummond chose Tubingen, and went there with John Ewing and D. M. Ross. I do not know which classes he attended. More important was the general life and atmosphere of the place, and this he enjoyed to the full. Who does not that goes to Tubingen straight from a Scottish winter? The glory of the southern spring and summer ; the first sight of vineyards and the first tramp through a real forest ; the mediaeval castles and churches, Urach and Lichtenstein, Hohenzollern and Bebenhausen, the hospitality and ' gemiithlichkeit ' of the Swabians ; the genuine piety, with other forms and larger liberties than Scottish religion has allowed itself; the social side of the students' life, their ' kneipes,' their music, and their duels; the first impressions of the thoroughness of German scholarship, and of the depth of German thinking ; the gradual mastery of the great language, and the entrance upon the vast new literature — with all these it is not wonderful that so many of us at Tiibingen should have wakened for the first time to what Nature is, and even found there, in a sense, the second birth of our intellect. Henry saw a number of duels, was welcomed by a Verein, took a long Whit suntide tramp through the Black Forest with three of its members, and so haunted the Wankheim Pfarr- 52 HENRY DRUMMOND [1873 haus and won the Pfarrer's heart, that when they met, some years later, in Princes Street, Edinburgh, the old gentleman rushed at him and kissed him on both cheeks. Altogether, he made a great impression on the Tiibingen people, as he did everywhere, by his sunniness and his sympathy ; and to some of us who followed him three years after, it was enough of a passport to the friendship of the men and women most worth knowing in Tiibingen, that we were friends of ' Heinrich Droomond.' To his Sisters 'TtfBiNGEN, May 28. ' You will hear that I am going my tour with three German students. As they know little or no English, I shall have great chances of picking up the language, but I find that one has really to rely almost entirely on home work, for it is per fectly astonishing how little one really learns by conversation. You get into the trick of ringing the changes on a few sentences and phrases, and one is apt to think one knows far more than one really does. I find it is no joke getting up a language; the myriad words and shades of meaning are almost appalling. The accent in Tiibingen is a fearful dialect, which Beriiners cannot understand at all, at least when the peas ants speak. I have the satisfaction of picking up Hoch-Deutsch, and quite steering clear of the patois. I have got to know an authoress in Tiibingen, a very famous lady [probably Frau Ottilie Wildermuth, authoress of the charming Bilder aus Schwabenland\ and she has invited me to her house as often as I like to come to ^T. 22] PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY 53 supper on Tuesday evenings. I shall not be slow to avail myself of her kindness. ' P.S. Hechingen. Thursday morning. En route for Schwarzwald. Morning rather misty. Country splendid.' On his return from Germany, Drummond resolved to postpone his fourth session at New College for a year or two, in order to give himself to the study of Natural Science, and to regular Mission work. He retained, however, his position as President of the Theological Society, and read an essay before it on 'Spiritual Diagnosis.' He had, as yet, practically no experience of religious work among adults ; yet the essay enumerated the principles, and laid down the methods upon which, beginning from this very month onwards, he conducted all his wonderful ministry to men. I did not know of the existence of the paper till too late to quote it here ; but Dr. Stalker sends me the following recollection, and I add some echoes of it from the criticism, delivered at the time_ it was read by Mr. Barnetson, now Free Church minister of Roslin : — ' In the Theological Society, near the commence ment of the session 1873-74, he electrified us with an essay on Spiritual Diagnosis, the thread of which I still perfectly remember. He contrasted the clinical work of a medical student with the total absence of any direct dealing with men in a theological curricu lum, and maintained that a minister can do far more good by " buttonholing " individuals, than by preaching sermons. The essay was understood to be purely speculative, and as yet there was no word m Edin burgh of Mr. Moody's coming ; but, within a month. 54 HENRY DRUMMOND [l873 Mr. Moody had arrived, and in his meetings Henry was putting his speculations into practice.' ' Gentlemen, the paper now read in your hearing is a brilliant one in many respects. There is an earnest ness of purpose and a definiteness of aim, which are manifest at the outset, and never flag throughout. He is in hot haste to let us know what he means. After emphasising our Lord's dealing with individuals, he says : " We know well enough how to move the masses, how to draw a crowd around us . . . how to flash and storm in passion, how to work in the appeal at the right moment, how to play upon all the figures of Rhetoric in succession, and how to throw in a calm, when no one expects but every one wants it. Every one knows this or can know it easily, but to draw souls one by one and take from them the secret of their lives, to talk them clear out of themselves, to read them off like a page of print, to pervade them with your own spiritual essence and make them trans parent, this is the spiritual diagnosis which is so difficult to acquire and so hard to practise." "The scientific treatment of the power of spiritual discern ment " is the felt want which the paper expresses ; this power exercised upon another for his good is what the essayist understands by " spiritual diag nosis." The lack of such a science he laments, and at the same time shows that there is a reason in the nature of things why this should be. He brings forward evidence — from Solomon, Plato, Addi son, and other writers — for the reality of the spirit ual life. To get the variety of its workings and interworkings reduced to scientific classification is the great task before pastoral theology, which, if achieved, would supply the missing hnk between college training and practical work. The variety of phenomena in the ^T. 22] PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY 55 spiritual life he finds to be no bar to a spiritual science, inasmuch as there are equally numberiess phenomena in the sciences of chemistry and biology. But there is a difficulty in the nature of the facts to be dealt with. The need iox such a science he finds in seeking to guide an awakened sinner to Christ. How to direct such an one, how to note the changing experiences and their precise import— for this we have no educa tion. The mere skeleton of the soul's state at different stages is all that many have to guide them in the deli cate task of ministering to a mind distressed, and it is quite insufficient. The dangers arising from this want of due acquaintance with the subject are next dealt with, and a warning is deduced: " To avoid the Didac tic and practise the Attractive must be the rule." The unsatisfactory basis on which spiritual diagnosis rests is then adverted to — "it rests at present upon mere individual impression." It has no philosophic basis, which is a matter of profound regret, since the scientific method could be so easily applied to it. And the paper concludes with an estimate of this power as seen in the Puritans, whose humanity he reckons not to have abounded with the milk of human kindness, and also with an axiom for spiritual diagnosis : " Ten derness and courtesy are requisite to approach the heart, without which the heart is approached only to be shocked." ' In these recollections two of Drummond's character istics are very evident, — his sense of law and of defi nite order in all religious experience, and the insist ence upon tenderness and courtesy, of which qualities he was himself one of the most perfect examples this generation has seen, — and it was these which gave him his wonderful power over the individual. The same week he started operations as missionary 56 HENRY DRUMMOND [1873 in the Riego Street Mission of Free St. Cuthbert's Church, then under the collegiate ministry of Sir Henry Moncrieff, Bart., and Mr. Gavin Anderson. He opened with this appointment the second of his brief diaries, in which he records ' his first public appear ance, Mr. Anderson having asked him to take the concluding prayer at the congregational prayer-meet ing. The first time I ever faced an audience, sensa tions not remarkable. When my turn came I trembled on standing up — considerably all through. Tremour in voice. I should think not perceived ; mind kept per fectly clear and cool. Voice seemed not my own, but a new voice. Have no possible idea how it sounded. Prayer was simple and to the point. It was outlined in thought during the afternoon — a sentence or two were written, but then not all remembered at the time.' ' I was more than satisfied with the result. Of course there was nothing of my doing in it' Two years before this he had found that he spoke much more powerfully extempore than when he wrote out his speeches beforehand, and this is confirmed by his friend Mr. M'Culloch. But the experience never betrayed him into laxity of preparation. For his meetings in Riego Street, attended at first by only a dozen people, he wrote out his prayers very carefully, and prepared full notes for his addresses. ' To-night held my first prayer-meeting. There were ten women and two men present, all the right class. Address — what shall I say? I think it must have been very poor, particulariy as to the delivery. Was not the least nervous, but did not know exactly where to look. People listened attentively — very. One woman (like a servant) put me out rather by laugh ing, I suppose at the crudities of my attempt. It .^T. 22] PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY 57 certainly was crude. It closed with a bang, i.e. an abrupt collapse ! ' So the diary itself closes. The following week a religious movement began in Edinburgh and spread over the country, which caught up the stammering evangelist to a higher platform and gave him his first extraordinary influence and fame among men. CHAPTER IV THE GREAT MISSION. 1873-1875 Towards the end of the summer of 1873, two Americans landed at Liverpool with the purpose of holding religious meetings in the large cities of Eng land. To quote their bills, one of them preached, and the other sang, the Gospel. The singer was the younger of the two, thirty-four years of age, with a strong baritone voice, and he sang sitting at an American organ, upon which he accompanied himself. The one who preached was about thirty-seven, short, thick-set, with a heavy jaw and a strong American accent. Their names were American, with the usual middle initial — Dwight L. Moody, the preacher, and Ira D. Sankey, the singer. In their own country the men had already given proofs of power, and their personal record was un stained. But they came to England with no fame and hardly any credentials. Their methods were strange and aggressive, the season of the year unsuita ble, and in their attempt upon Liverpool they failed. They moved to York and found as little sympathy there. So they went on to Newcastle and Sunder land, where at last, after a few weeks, large meetings were gathered and thoroughly roused. Many men and women, but especially men, were convinced of sin, and professed faith in Jesus Christ as their Saviour. The news spread across the country. The Rev. John Kelman of Leith, who had heard 58 .^T. 22] THE GREAT MISSION 59 of the work from his brother in Sunderland, visited the meetings both there and at Newcastle. By what he witnessed he was convinced of the real power of the movement, and at the close of a service at Walker he gave the evangelists an invitation to Scotland. About the same time similar proposals reached them from Mr. Hood Wilson of Edinburgh and from Dun dee. Mr. Kelman strongly advised them to begin in Edinburgh, as from there the whole of Scotland could be most easily reached. To this Mr. Moody agreed, and Mr. Kelman returned to form a committee and prepare the way.^ For the next six weeks there were daily gatherings for prayer, and on Sunday, the 23d of November, the Edinburgh mission was opened with a very crowded meeting in the Music Hall, at which Mr. Moody was too ill to speak. The meeting on Monday was in the Barclay Church, and Mr. Sankey's organ hav ing been broken, he did not sing. With these inauspi cious beginnings, the week-day meetings were at first but fairiy Targe. Only a few of the leading ministers were present; many refused to intimate the mission, and it was with difficulty that Mr. Sankey's harmonium was admitted, even into some of the churches previously granted for meetings. Every week, however, the tide rose, and by Christmas began to flow in volume. On New Year's Eve, a crowded watch-meeting was attended not only by many ministers, but by a still larger num ber of the leading laymen of the town. Members of all the Protestant denominations professed them selves quickened. The prejudices of those who for years had resisted every attempt to introduce instru mental music into public worship were overcome, and 1 Mr. Kelman acted as secretary of the Edinburgh committee. Moody wrote to Drummond some years afterwards : ' My love to Kelman; 1 never thmk of the work in Edinburgh without thinking of him.' 6o HENRY DRUMMOND [i873 they lustily sang with Mr. Sankey and his organ. The most respected leaders of religion spoke from the evangelist's platforms, helped in the inquiry rooms, and instructed the young converts. Professor Cairns, Professors Charteris and Calderwood of the University, Professors Blaikie and Rainy of New College, Dr. An drew Thomson, Mr. Hood Wilson, and Dr. Horarius Bonar; Dr. Andrew Bonar and Dr. Marshall Lang from Glasgow ; Mr. George Cullen, Mr. M'Murtrie of St. Bernard's and Mr. Wilson of Tolbooth, Mr. William Arnot, Mr. James Robertson, Mr. John Morgan, Mr. Whyte of Free St. George's, Mr. Knox Talon of the Episcopal Church, Lord Polwarth, Sheriff Campbell, Mr. James Balfour, Mr. William and Mr. David Dick son, Mr. Brown Douglas, Mr. David M'Laren, and a number of lawyers, doctors, and merchants gave their assistance. On all sides the fire spread. Hundreds of converts were gathered from the careless and formal members of the Church, as well as from among people who never went to church. In contrast to most con gregations, the number of men at the meetings equalled and sometimes exceeded that of the women. It was possible to fill one church after another with young men, and to see in each a hundred rise to confess that they had been converted by God's Word. And the work became a general sulDJect of discussion, some times hostile, but always serious, among all classes of society. The secret of all this lay open. The evangelists themselves were obviously men of sincerity and power. They made mistakes. Mr. Moody said some rash things, as a foreigner could not help doing, and many crude ones, as an uneducated man must. While some of his addresses were powerful, others were very poor. But these faults soon sank from sight in the deep ^T. 22] THE GREAT MISSION 6 1 impression of a true zeal to win men for a better life, and to pour fresh power into the routine of Christian work. Men felt themselves in presence of a Power, towards whom their obligations and opportunities were not to be weakened by any defect in its human instru ments. And as time went on the sincerity and strength of the latter became more apparent. The evangelists were practical, they were sane, and they grew more sane under the influence of the men who gathered to their help. Mr. Moody suffered no fools, and every symptom of the hysteria which often breaks out in such movements was promptly suppressed. The preaching won Scotsmen's hearts by its loyalty to the Bible and its expository character. Next to Mr. Moody's passion for proclaiming the gospel was his zeal for instruction. He believed in the Bible class, and like some other recent movements in Scotland, the revival of Bible classes and of the religious instruc tion of youth owes not a little to his example. But his practical spirit reached farther. His gospel, which had its centre in the Atonement, was the gospel of an Incarnate Saviour : no mere voice, but hands and feet, with heart and brains behind, to cleanse the cities of their foulness, organise the helpless and neglected, succour the fallen, and gather the friendless into fami lies. We have forgotten how often Mr. Moody en forced the civic duties of our faith. Yet read again his addresses and articles of the time, and you will believe that in the seventies there was no preacher more civic or more practical among us. He re awakened in Scotland not a few echoes of Chalmers ; and to read him again is to be filled with surprise that in the country of Chalmers so few of Moody's followers should have sustained the more liberal key notes which he struck for them! Again, Mr. Moody 62 HENRY DRUMMOND [1873-74 was no schismatic : just because he was so practical he was loyal to the churches. Hardly educated himself, he emphasised the education of the ministry. He never strove for applause by criticism of the average clergyman, nor for laughter by jeers at him. He knew, as some of his present successors do not seem wise enough to know, that it is not your passing evangelist, however brilliant, who reaches the drifting and sunken of our cities, but the parish minister and city mission ary. But the chief features of the movement were its prayerfulness and its ethical temper. Those who took most part in it knew how it lived by prayer, earnest, simple, and direct. The theology was stiff, some might say mechanical, but it was never abstract. To use a good old word, it was thoroughly experimental, and busied with the actual life of men. Over the town and neighbourhood a number of meetings were addressed by ministers and elderly lay men of position in Edinburgh. It was after the evan gelists had been at work for some time, when their gospel was well known, there were large numbers of inquirers, and the emphasis of every speaker was very properly laid upon ' decision for Christ' In their natu ral anxiety to make this duty appear as simple as possible, some of these speakers laboriously succeeded in exhausting it of all reality, and shut up their hearers to the baldest travesty of faith that was ever presented to hungry men. A young man who had not heard Moody, but who was awakened and anxious, listened for several evenings to these speakers. He saw them whittle away one after another of the essentials of faith, and call him to a reception of salvation in which there was neither conscience nor love, nor any awe. In their extremity they likened the acceptance of Christ to the taking of a five-pound note offered you ^T. 22] THE GREAT MISSION 63 for nothing, or of a glass of water, or of an orange ! The veil grew thinner and thinner between his eyes and the mystery which was beyond, till at last, at the touch of one of their grotesque parables, it tore, and — there was nothing behind. Religion turned out to be a big confidence trick. In this feeling he attended a meeting conducted by Mr. Moody himself. The crowd was enormous. The sight of two thousand men, all of them serious, most of them anxious, plunged him into real life again. The words of the hymns he heard were poor, and the music little better, but the mystical power came back with them, and he found himself worshipping. Mr. Moody began to speak with that Yankee accent in which, except when it is boasting of its country, you seldom fail to feel the edge of the real. There was an occasional exaggeration, but some humour fell and swept the address clean of every appearance of unreality. Mr. Moody spoke of the peril of life, of the ghastly hunger of the soul without God, of conscience, and of guilt; then with passion and with tenderness of God's love, and of the Saviour Christ, who is among us to-day as surely as on the shores of Galilee, or by the Pool of Bethesda. Hun dreds of men stood up in silent witness that they had found salvation, and the young man knew what they had found. He did not stay behind with them, but he went away feeling that God was in the meeting, very clear what Christ could save him from, and con scious that it was at the peril of his manhood if he refused to follow Him. The movement spread over Scotland. Messrs. Moody and Sankey spent the spring of 1874 in Glas gow and other towns in the west. Everything hap pened that had happened in Edinburgh, but on a larger scale. In Greenock, from three to four thousand 64 HENRY DRUMMOND [1873-74 persons heard the gospel daily; there were meetings of two and three thousand every Sunday morning at nine. In Glasgow, the Crystal Palace, as it was then called, a building of glass, was crowded night after night with five thousand people, and still many were turned from the doors ; it was nine times filled in six days. There would be from fifty to two hundred in quirers after every meeting. The body of the church or hall would be occupied by groups of men and women, all anxious, and many weeping, while ministers and their friends spoke to them of Christ. Then those who ' accepted Him ' would be asked to stand up, and often all did so. The custom was to reserve every Monday evening for a meeting of converts. At the last one in Glasgow there were thirty-five hundred present. From all parts of Scotland visitors attended the meetings in Edinburgh and Glasgow, and deputa tions were sent from these centres over the country. So, when the evangelists went to other towns, they found their way prepared, and in some cases the results were even more rapid than they had been in either of the capitals. Stirling, Perth, Dundee, Aber deen, Inverness, and towns to the east and north of it, Oban, Campbeltown, and Rothesay were all visited during the summer and autumn of 1874. Nor did the work diminish in a district when the evangelists passed on. In Edinburgh it was said that the results rather increased after their farewell meeting. The converts were organised : twelve hundred, who gave their names in Edinburgh, were visited every fortnight for the next two years ! This careful supervision, attempted also in other places, had the best effect on the churches, in which the number of young commu nicants was largely increased. Ministers themselves were quickened. Although some, it is true, were ^T. 22] THE GREAT MISSION 65 tempted to become sensational and others to rely on the Spirit, without seeking to deserve His aids by their own study and prayer, preaching upon the whole was stronger and more fresh than it had been, and new heart was put into congregational routine. In 1874, Mr. M'Murtrie — and this is but one among many testimonies — wrote that he had ' never known so happy a winter as last, during the whole course of his ministry.' Dr. Cairns wrote that ' the revival had made very hopeful the whole future of the Bible class in Scotland.' But the power spread beyond the congregations, and one of the most striking features of the movement was the social and philanthropic work which it stimu lated. Like all religious revivals^ this one had its origin among the well-to-do classes, and at first offered some ground for the sneers at bourgeois religion which were cast upon it. But Mr. Moody, who had the true imagination of the city, and the power to bring up before others the vision of its wants, inspired the Christians of Glasgow to attempt missions to the criminal classes and the relief of the friendless. The lodging-houses were visited and every haunt of va grants about the brick-kilns upon the South Side and elsewhere. Temperance work was organised, and although there were, as always in that work, very many disappointments, a considerable number of poor drunkards were befriended and reformed. A huge tent was raised on the Green, and afterwards replaced by a hall, which became the scene of a Sabbath morn ing breakfast to the poor, and the centre of a great deal of other philanthropic activity. New interest was roused in industrial schools, and on the advice of Sheriff Wat son, a veteran in this line of education, an industrial 1 Thorold Rogers, Lectures on the Economic Interpretation of History. 66 HENRY DRUMMOND [j873-74 feeding school was established for ill-fed or ill-clad children. At Saltcoats a house was bought and fur nished for orphans ; new impulses were given to the Orphan Homes of Scotland, founded in 1871 by Mr. Quarrier, who, with his fellow-workers among the poor of Glasgow, had given inestimable assistance to Mr. Moody's mission. A boarding-house was opened in Glasgow for young women. Mr. Moody gave great attention to Young Men's Christian Associations, and at the height of the movement secured very large sub scriptions for their foundation or expansion. He felt strongly that they^ had been conducted upon methods which were either too vague or too narrow, and that for their success ' clear and liberal views were needed.' He defined their aim — to promote the spiritual in stincts and look after the temporal wants of young men. Each ' ought to be a nursery of Christian char acter, a most efficient evangelistic agency, a centre of social meeting, and a means of furthering the progress of young men in the general pursuits of life.' But along with 'liberality in your aims you must have thoroughness in details. The spiritual must be dis tinctly dominant. Do not, however, put the associa tion in place of the Church; it is a handmaid of the Church and a feeder of the Church. For every man it must find some work,' and ' use every particle of power in the young convert.' Again, we may express the wish that the manly and liberal views of the evan gelist had been carried out by all the institutions which he did so much to invigorate.^ ^ See a letter by him in Times of Blessing, vol. i. p. 4. 2 Another effect of the movement ought to be recorded in Edinburgh and at other places, both in England and Scotland. Some Episcopalian ministers heartily cooperated with the evangeUsts. But in this denomination more good appears to have been done by special missions and conferences by their own clergy in the wake of Messrs. Moody and Sankey. There were very successful missions in ^T. 22] THE GREAT MISSION 67 How Henry Drummond was drawn into this great movement I have not been able to trace with exact ness. Soon after he began his mission in Riego Street^ he asked a fellow-student if he had heard of the two Americans who were evangelising at Newcas tle, and with the date of their arrival in Edinburgh the diary of his own work stops short, as if he had been suddenly carried off upon some larger stream. Two New College men who had attended one of the early gatherings in Edinburgh, and had stayed behind to see the novel inquiry meetings, then exciting much jealousy, were asked by Mr. Moody to assist, and refused. When they returned to their lodging they felt some shame at their inability to speak of their Lord to anxious men who were seeking Him, and after prayer together they resolved to offer themselves for the work. To Drummond's own mind this sus pected feature of the movement must have appeared its most promising element. Here was the very factor which he had missed in the organisation of the Church, and for which, only that month, he had been pleading in his essay to the Theological Society. We can understand how his keen mind watched the move ment, and in spite of this prejudice in its favour, found at first not a little to repel him. He was curiously dif ferent from the two men with whom he was to become so intimate a colleague, — not in theology, nor in zeal to win his fellow-men for Christ, but in those other things that by the bitter irony of our life separate us from each other far more cruelly than even the divisions of religion do. His accent, his style, his tastes, were at the other pole from those of the evangelists. His Edinburgh, conducted by Mr. Pigou, vicar of Doncaster, and Father Benson ; in. Brighton, by Mr. Hay Aitken ; in Leeds, London, and elsewhere. 1 See pp. 55-56. 68 HENRY DRUMMOND [i874 speech was quiet and restrained, — an excited preacher was always a wonder to him, — he had a perilous sense of humour, and I do not think that he ever really cared for large public meetings. Nor did the social possibilities of the movement attract him: at this time he had not the civic conscience. But from the first he felt Mr. Moody's sincerity, and the practical wisdom of the new methods. The aim at the individ ual, the endeavour to rouse and secure him — this was what he had missed in ordinary church methods and now found. The inquiry meetings bridged the gap between preacher and hearer, and brought them together, man to man, before God. On his side Mr. Moody was feeling the need of a young man to take charge of the meetings for young men, and it is a tribute to his insight that he chose one whose style and tastes were so different from his own. At first Drummond was employed, like other students, only in the inquiry room. ' Often he was to be seen going home through the streets after a meeting with a man in whose arm his own was linked. He wore round his shoulders, or rather his head, a tartan plaid, green and black, in which I always see him yet when I recall those days. The figure was extremely picturesque. 'The next stage was that of addressing meetings, which came about in this way. As the marvellous work developed in Edinburgh, the news, of course, flew in every direction ; and requests came pouring in from all parts of the country for speakers to come and describe it. These were dealt with, in the first place, by the committee who had charge of Mr. Moody's meetings, but as the students of New College had gone into the movement nearly in a body, a few of us shaped ourselves into an informal committee to receive the applications and send out deputations. Of course ^T. 22] THE GREAT MISSION 69 the descriptions of what was going on in Edinburgh were combined with evangelistic addresses; and the flame of revival burst out in one place after another — north, south, east, and west. 'This went on for months, and Drummond was in the thick of it all the time. I still remember vividly some of his deputation work. The sympathy of young men had been very visible in Edinburgh, but it was in Glasgow that the first very remarkable meeting for this class was held, and the feature to which reference has just been made was conspicuously stamped on the movement. The meeting is still remembered in Glas gow, and in religious circles throughout Scotland, as " the hundred-and-one night." It took place in Ewing Place Congregational Church, which was filled with young men. Mr. Moody had sent to Edinburgh for a deputation of students, and Stewart, Miller (now of the Bridge of Allan), Gordon (Vienna), Brown (Glasgow), Henry, and I went. Mr. Moody did not speak at all himself; but Dr. Cairns of Berwick delivered a pow erful address on Immortality; then the students spoke one after another; and Dr. H. J. Wilson wound up. As the meeting proceeded, the spiritual power was such as I have never experienced on any other occa sion; and when Mr. Moody, at the close, ordered the front seats to be cleared, and invited those who wished to be prayed for to occupy the vacant pews, a hundred and one came forward. As the evangelist pleaded, and that solemn stream began to gather from every corner of the church, the sense of Divine power became overwhelming, and I remember quite well turning round on the platform and hiding my face in my hands, unable to look on the scene any more. Yet all was perfectly quiet, and the hundred and one were men of intelligence and character, who were not 70 HENRY DRUMMOND [1874 carried away with excitement, but moved by the force of conviction. I do not remember anything remarka ble in Henry's speaking that night ; the address which told most was, I think, that of Frank Gordon, whose speaking was characterised by a wonderful pathos and passion. When we six went back to the hotel, we sat very late discussing the remarkable scene we had just witnessed. Some one started the question whether it is usual to remember the date and the incidents of one's own conversion. At such a moment it was easy to be confidential, and it turned out that we were equally divided, three remembering the circumstances in which their spiritual life began, and three not. Henry was, I think, among the latter. Each of us possesses an interleaved Testament, beautifully bound in morocco, as a memorial of that night ; and each book contains the signatures and mottoes of all six. These Testaments were Henry's idea, and he pre sented them to the rest. His own copy went with him through his subsequent evangelistic wanderings, and was worn to rags. ' On another occasion I remember that Henry and I set off together to fulfil two engagements without having decided to which place each was to go. We talked the matter over as the train carried us up the Highland line, but at last we tossed for it. I went to Inverness and he, I think, to Nairn or Elgin. As matters turned out, this decision was very important; for, where he went, there was such a blessing that he felt called to devote himself more absolutely to the work; and he used to speak of this occasion as one of the turning-points by which his subsequent work was determined.' Others remember that Mr. Moody himself was in Elgin, and to Drummond's surprise opened the door to him when he arrived there. Mt.22'\ the GREAT MISSION 7 1 It was, in fact, because of what he heard or saw of this work in Elgin that Mr. Moody sent Drummond to Sunderland — the first instance of his policy of setting Drummond to continue the work among young men at places which Mr. Sankey and he had visited. Stewart either went with Drummond or joined him a few days later, but 'the work immedi ately developed to such an extent that he telegraphed for help. P sent Ewing,^ who up to that point had kept out of the movement, but was instantly caught by its spirit and soon proved one of the most power ful workers. In subsequent years we used to chaff Ewing by telling with what fear and trembling I had sent him, and how aghast Henry was when he heard who was coming to be his coadjutor. Even at the time, in spite of the solemnity of the supernatural forces in the midst of which we felt ourselves, there was a great deal of high spirits in our intercourse.' The deputation went for three days and stayed a fort night, with still less hope of getting away, for the work grew past all belief and spread to the neighbour ing towns. In answer to urgent invitations the three young Scotsmen visited Newcastle, South Shields, Bishop Auckland, Hartlepool, Morpeth, and Hexham. Sunderland appears to have been fairly aroused by the mission. The work began as elsewhere among the middle classes, and spread to the working-men. All denominations took part in it. Members of the Society of Friends were among the hardest workers, but all the Nonconformist ministers gave their help, and the three young men found themselves at the head of a large and influential organisation which they had to superintend from day to day, besides con- ^ Rev. James Stalker. ^ Rev. John F. Ewing, afterwards of Toorak. 72 HENRY DRUMMOND [i874 ducting the services and the meetings with inquirers. It must have been a tremendous ordeal, both mental and moral. Ewing used to speak of it as the greatest month of his life. But there appears to have been no excitement, and the large daily gatherings for prayer were conducted with deep earnestness. The results were very manifest: the after-meetings were large, very many members of church-going families were moved to a real decision to follow Christ, and num bers of young men, who had not been to any church for months and years, professed themselves converted. The tiny Young Men's Association rose to a member ship of four hundred, and a year or two afterwards the work done among them was declared to be permanent and still spreading. In the end a thousand persons in Sunderland alone gave in their names as converts. Parents were so stirred that arrangements were made to extend the public services to children ; and in this delicate work — the propriety of which Drummond afterwards questioned, believing with justice that reli gion comes to a child most naturally through its home, — some amount of real good was done, in spite of the artificial and premature 'experiences' that such a movement always forces. In his weekly letters to his father and mother Drummond tells the following story : — ' Sunderland, April 24, 1874. '. . . You see I am still here and do not know when we are to get away. Requests are pouring in on us from all quarters and the work is just as deep as it could be. We have three meetings each night, one exclusively for young men. Generally there are about a hundred inquirers in all every night, and as most of these come to the light before leaving you may imagine the wonderful nature of Mt. 22] THE GREAT MISSION 73 the work going on around us. We got Ewing to help us yesterday, but my health is just as good as ever. We are kept at it from morning till night. Schools, infirmaries, poorhouses, etc., have all to be addressed, and the work has got in among several of the public institutions. Yester day we had an " all day " meeting for inquirers. The young men's meetings have been a marvel lous success and have done an amount of good which the countryside will feel the influence of for generations. They are going out in bands to work the neighbourhood, and as there is a dense colliery population they may do a great deal of good. I am living in a very quiet family, and although you might think there is a deal of excitement going on, I seem to be spared it all and live as quietly as if I were at Killin. . . . Next week we shall run in to Newcastle occasion ally to meetings there, but one of us will always be left here.' 'Hartlepool, May 6, 1874. ' The people here have been very pressing for some of us to run down and hold a couple of meetings, and I made up my mind to comply while the other two went to Newcastle, where I join them to-morrow. The Sunderland work would take a week even to sketch, and it seems to have reached all classes and all ages. Among the schools it seems to have broken out with force, and we could spend another month among them with great profit. On Sunday I had an enormous children's meeting and a hundred and fifty remained to an after-meet ing. In the evening we had the Victoria Hall crammed (with adults) and a very large number en tered the inquiry room at the close. On Monday 74 HENRY DRUMMOND ['874 evening we had a farewell meeting with the young converts. There was a large church full and it was one of the happiest meetings I was ever at. The general impression in Sunderland is that the work is just beginning, and although we have left the place, I expect we shall have to go back again. To give you an idea of the work in Sunderland I may say that upwards of three hundred names were given in at the young -men's m,eeting alone of young men who had professed to have been con verted during the three weeks of the meetings. One minister of a small chapel stated after the first fortnight that forty had been converted already out of his little flock. To me the whole matter seems an unreal dream. It is impossible to real ise it. I suppose it was never meant we should. Hartlepool is a Httle chilly after Sunderland. . . . The whole countryside is ripe here, and I do not really know when this English tour of ours is to end.' 'Sunderland, May 12, 1874. ' I am leading a very wandering life. . . . Our hands are very full here. We have applications from all quarters to go to work. Our present duty, however, is to stay in Sunderland. We have given it a rest this week and are working Newcastle and Bishop Auckland, but next week we are to have a great week of meetings here for all classes, and a special one each night for young men only and probably another one for children. The work among children has been most wonder ful, and we have visited Sabbath and Day Schools. As you can guess, we started with but a very meagre stock of material, and have got on won derfully. I should much like, however, to have a ^Jr. 22] THE GREAT MISSION 75 few of those American Sabbath School Messengers, as my stock of illustrations is worn absolutely threadbare. If you come across anything nice you might also send it, and A. might join in the hunt. I am really anxious about this, and I hope you will manage to send a few scraps before many posts are passed. . . . On Monday we had another converts' meeting — a large church full. The Sunday evening meeting has become quite an institution in the town, and is having an extraordinary influence on all classes. There are always three thousand or four thousand present and we have always a large prayer-meeting.' 'Hexham, June 9, 1874. ' I got here on Saturday evening after a good week at Sunderland. We worked two meetings each night, but the one was six miles off so that we only had one each to attend to. The results were most satisfactory. I think there would be about a hundred in each place — I cannot say exactly converted, but under very deep impression. One night I spent at Morpeth and had a very nice meeting. On Sunday I had no less than three meetings here, all very interesting. Thev were just about to close the meetings which have been going on for some weeks. They thought the thing was getting played out, but they seem to have taken a fresh start, and the meetings this week have been the biggest they have ever had. Half the audience last night were church peo ple. ... If the work had been bad I should have been with you to-morrow, but I see now it will not do to break off. You know every night counts. As to my health, I think I am stronger 76 HENRY DRUMMOND ['874 than ever. There could not be a more healthy place than this, and I take the whole day in the woods and hills. I am engaged all week at Shields, but on Saturday I could get free for a few days and we might have a ramble together.' 'South Shields, June 26, 1874. ' The work here has been steady. Results not like Sunderland exactly, but I think we ought to be very well satisfied. I am pressed to stay and will probably be either here or in the neighbourhood.' From another place, the same month. ' . . . I had got thus far when a long interruption occurred. The gentleman with whom I am living opened up his whole past history to me — a very chequered one it has been — and I think our visit will be the means of doing him some good. I could not stop his yarn, as I saw something per haps was to come of it. This is a specimen of the kind of private work which we have to do in every house we stay at, with scarcely an exception.' Meetings of three and four thousand, daily addresses to hundreds of young men, a constant confessional, crowds of anxious inquirers, urgent invitations from all quarters, the success of the work obviously de pendent upon his presence, ministers and leading lay men in many towns looking to him as their chief, the sense (right or wrong) that the Christianity of the next generation in these places might largely be determined by the work he had charge of — conceive of all this falling to a man not quite twenty-three ! It might well seem to him ' an unreal dream.' Yet there is abun dant evidence in his letters that he did not lose his .^T. 22] THE GREAT MISSION 77 head nor suffer his natural spirit to be warped. He kept his interest in the common affairs of home, wrote about his younger brother's egg-collecting, and looked forward as eagerly as any school-boy to a holiday with his mother. From outside testimony, he seems to have depreciated rather than exaggerated the results of the work. He remained shrewd and sensible ; and it was already noticed of him that, as in all his later years, he never betrayed, either on or off the platform, one secret of the many hundreds that must have been confided to him by those who sought his counsel and inspiration. The Sunderland Mission made Drum mond a man. He won from it not only the power of organising and leading his fellow-men, but that insight into character, that knowledge of life on its lowest as on its highest levels, that power of interest in every individual he met, which so brilliantly distinguished him, and in later years made us who were his friends feel as if his experience and his sympathy were exhaustless. When Messrs. Moody and Sankey closed their Scot tish Mission at Rothesay in the beginning of Septem ber, they passed over to Belfast, where they stayed for five weeks. Here the same huge meetings, the same large number of inquirers and of converts, followed their work as in Scotland. When they moved to Londonderry they sent for Drummond (who had spent his holidays fishing and evangelising in Orkney and Shetland) to continue the work in Belfast ; and, with his friend James Stalker, he began to address meetings there about the 8th of October. When the mission opened in Dublin he moved to Derry, and carried on the work alone for some weeks. He had been at home for part of the autumn, and his people had urged him to resume his theological studies the next winter 78 HENRY DRUMMOND [1874 session. In the following letter he gives evidence not only of his resolution to abide by the mission so long as it should need him, but of that clearness of percep tion as to what his own proper work was, and that quiet power of overcoming all influence to the con trary, which was so marked a feature of his character. 'Londonderry, Oct. 19, 1874. '. . . Just a few lines from the seat of war to tell you how things are going on. The enemy is fall ing by hundreds. I think Derry beats any work I have been in by a great deal. The first meeting almost overwhelmed me. Moody was here for four days, and, leaving on Thursday morning, sent me to keep up the meetings. The place was first roused thoroughly, and no more. When I came I found the biggest church here filled to the last seat. I think it was one of the most impressive meetings I have seen. The inquiry meetings were far bigger than any they had had — amongst them seventy young men. On Saturday we had a con verts' meeting. Last night another evangelistic meeting ; the church crowded to the pulpit stairs half an hour before the time. There were more than three hundred anxious. Of course I cannot go to Dublin for some time. I have just telegraphed to Moody. I feel the responsibility of the work here is very great. Being sent here by Moody, and being the only worker, I have full swing of the entire work. It is far too much for me, and I am almost frightened when I think of it. One very fine feature of the movement here is the hold it has taken amongst the young men. I believe there were one hundred and fifty (young men alone) anxious last night, and about one hundred Mt. 22] THE GREAT MISSION 79 have already decided before that, and were at the converts' meeting on Saturday. ' I suppose I am fairly engaged now to follow Moody all winter, and take his young men's meetings. I cannot help thinking more and more every day that this is the work God has planned for me this session. Why I should have such a tremendous privilege is the only mystery to me. I do not believe there has ever been such an opportunity for work in the history of the Church. Moody says if the young men's meeting can be kept up in every town, he believes there will be ten thou sand young men converted before the winter is over. What a tremendous thought ! In the light of all this, I cannot help thinking, as I have said, that the path I have chosen for the next months is the path which God has lit up for me. I was very uncomfortable when I was at home last — you all seemed so much against it, and I felt it more than you think. But now I feel I mtist go onward, the pointing of the Finger has grown plainer and less unmistakable than ever. I feel as if I dared not draw back. I wish you could all see it too.' To Dublin the evangelists went with some trepida tion. One correspondent warned them of failure in a truly Hibernian style : ' I have seen so many of these revivals, and they all end worse than they were before they began ! ' Their first meeting in the Exhibition Palace was reckoned at ten thousand ; and although for some time after that the work went more slowly than any since the Edinburgh Mission, it ultimately reached even greater dimensions than the evangelists had yet experienced. This increase was partly due to the 8o HENRY DRUMMOND ['874 hearty cooperation, for the first time in the history of the movement, of the Episcopalian clergy, while the daily press chronicled the meetings with a fulness never displayed elsewhere. ' Men of all the Church parties attended the meetings. Three of the Bishops have been at them ; and one of these, the Bishop of Kilmore, has warmly commended " the wonderful work in Dublin" while presiding over his Synod. The Bishop of Derry at the reopening of York Minster said that " in Scotland and Ireland a strong fervour had been awakened, and hundreds and thousands had been made earnest by a single voice singing the Gospel of Jesus Christ." The Rev. Lord Plunket, while " not personally relishing all the accompaniments of their teaching," blessed God " for the good which is being done by our American visitors," and rejoiced " that Christ is being preached, and souls are being saved." Many Roman Catholics frequented the meetings. Al though the evangelists were working for the first time in a population the majority of which was Catholic, they made so great an impression of the real good they were doing that one Catholic newspaper. The Nation, severely rebuked another for abusing them, and bade them Godspeed. This impression could never have been secured had Mr. Moody used contro versy or denunciation, but these he wisely avoided.' ^ There was unity among Christians. In the first week of December a Convention was held, for which the railway companies offered tickets from all parts of Ireland. On the Tuesday an ' all day' meeting was attended by fifteen thousand people in the Exhibition Palace, and there were neariy one thousand ministers present, in seats reserved for them. The topics chosen 1 The above details are from letters to The Times of Blessing in November, 1874, by Dr. Fleming Stevenson. ^T. 23] THE GREAT MISSION 8 1 were ' Praise and Thanksgiving,' ' How to reach the Masses,' and ' How to fill Ireland with the Gospel.' These were introduced by two Episcopalians and a Presbyterian, and discussed by ministers of other com munions. Mr. Moody himself spoke on Sectarian ism. ' God had vouchsafed a blessed unity. Woe to the unhappy person who should break it! Yet it would be broken if there was proselytism. The cry is, " Come out ! Come out from a sect ! " But where ? Into another sect! The spirit that is always prose lytising is from Satan. I say. Stay in. If you have a minister that preaches Christ, stand by him. You will get nothing but trouble and pride by leaving him. There are people who consider that denouncing churches and finding fault with ministers is " bearing testimony." These people will " bear testimony " for years, and that is all Christ gets from them. I warn you, beware of trying to get people away from the folds where they have been fed. The moment we begin to lift up our little party or our Church, then the Spirit of God seems to leave and there is no more conversion.' Drummond came to Dublin for a meeting of men on Sunday, November Sth. There were nearly three thousand present, and at the close a large number of inquirers. On December 3d Dr. Fleming Stevenson writes : — ' For some time past another large meeting had been con ducted in the Metropolitan Hall at the same hour as the evening inquiry meeting, and yet the attendance at both has increased. It is exclusively for young men, and is conducted by Mr. Henry Drummond, who was urgently entreated to leave work of the same kind at Derry that he might come up to this. At first it seemed harder to deal with them and less impression was made than elsewhere ; but that is all past, and probably there are nowhere more striking instances of the grace of God.' 82 HENRY DRUMMOND ['874 Drummond himself said at Manchester that during four weeks of young men's meetings in Dublin from ten to fifty were converted every night, that in one business place alone there had been seventy-five con verts, and that altogether hundreds had sent in their names as converts. To judge from the letters he afterwards received from Dublin, these were mainly artisans, shopmen, and clerks. Some of them were quite uneducated ; the first result of their conversion to Christ was usually a strong passion to learn to read. One poor fellow who had taught himself in a few months after his conversion writes : ' Since you left Dublin I had had such a creatin [?] Happeytite long ing for the knowledge of the Holy Bible.' But this is the only grotesque testimony out of many. Messrs. Moody and Sankey opened their mission in Manchester on a dark Sunday of drenching rain.^ Yet they gathered a meeting of two thousand workers at eight in the morning and two other meetings later in the day, for which the Free Trade and Oxford halls were required. They stayed in Manchester a month. On New Year's Eve they began in Sheffield, on January 17th in Birmingham, and on February 5th in Liverpool. In all three towns the same features marked their work as in Dublin, Belfast, Glasgow, and Edinburgh : enormous meetings from the very start, at first small, ultimately large, numbers of con verts, the quickening of church life, and a very wide spread interest among the general population. They had gatherings of Christian workers at eight on Sunday mornings, from two to four thousand in number. The historic halls of the cities — the Free Trade, the Bingley, the Albert — were crammed on Sunday evenings, and, in spite of overflow meetings, the streets around were ^ November 29th. ^T, 23] THE GREAT MISSION 83 filled in the rain and the darkness with crowds singing hymns. In Liverpool a wooden hall was erected to seat eight thousand. Though the Church of England clergy generally refused to act on the executive com mittee, and in one or two places withdrew altogether from the work because some of its prominent supporters took part at the same time in Liberation meetings, a group of them were always found on Mr. Moody's plat form, and, in Sheffield and Liverpool especially, they assisted with prayers and addresses. Practically all the Nonconformist ministers gave help, at their head MacLaren of Manchester and Dale of Birmingham. Through all these cities Drummond followed the evangelists with his meetings for young men, and (except in Sheffield) with the usual breadth, depth, and permanent results of his influence. The fol lowing extracts from his letters show this, as well as the many anxieties which now began to try him. The letters are mostly to his mother. 'Manchester, Friday, Dec. ? ' The work here is very fair, perhaps not so enthu siastic as in some places, but what can be done in a fortnight with six hundred thousand people. My department is not yet in full working order. The young men have never been reached yet in any numbers, but we shall make an extra effort next week and try to get them moved. There is not so much unity among the ministers as one would like to see, and the Church party have had a feud with the other ministers which cannot be broken up in a day. The enclosed card is to be left by Christian workers in every house in Manchester before the New Year, a gigantic undertaking ! I think it will do great good, not the actual card 84 HENRY DRUMMOND [1874-7S exactly, but it will give the hundreds of workers an introduction to thousands of people. I do not expect to make many friends here.. You know when the work is not boiling hot, there is always a good deal of jealousy of strangers arriving upon the scene, and I daresay some of the ministers who are only lukewarm would rather I had kept myself to myself. Moody had , the evangelist from , to help in the general work, and there was such a row about it that he had to send him away in three days ! However, I am in better odour and will not get the sack whatever happens.' 'Manchester, Dec. 31, 1874. ' A Happy New Year — my first from home. It seems strange to be absent at this time, and I am sure to have a fit of melancholies before to-morrow finishes. . . . There was a great scene at the station, all the bigwigs in Manchester down to see Moody off. I shall have to hold the fort here for some time yet. The prospects of work are not very cheering, and unless they get better in a week, I shall strike my tent and march for headquarters at Sheffield. . . . The cold has been intense. There has been so much ice that we have got tired of skating ; and now there is not much time for it.' 'Manchester, Wednesday, Jan. 6, 1875. 'I never met a finer set of men — the best Com mittee by far Moody ever had. . . . My work here has been a little up-hill. The young men have never been touched by Moody, and the Y.M.C.A. has its hands full of district work elsewhere and cannot work with us. I have had to develop a new set of workers, and beat up a ^T. 23] THE GREAT MISSION 85 new meeting. I am glad to say, the work is steadily growing every night and I think it will be a centre of real good immediately. However, it will no sooner be up to working power, than I shall have to leave for Sheffield. ... I was offered a church (here) the other day — a splendid new Presbyterian church ! I need not say that I have declined with thanks.' ' Sheffield, Friday, January 8th. 'You will perceive from my changed address that I am once more " stalking through the land " as Daniel's band says. A telegram most unexpected yesterday, at noon, from Moody brought me off in a great hurry-scurry to Sheffield. I could not help it. " Come to Sheifield at three to-day. I have a great men's meeting for you to-night," so the message ran, and of course I had just to leave all and run too. I suppose it was for the best, though I was real sorry to leave my little Man chester meeting, which hard labour had worked up after much discouragement to a really good work. It has been growing in interest and power every night and was coming to be a great success at last. However, I daresay I may be back to it for a day or two next week. Of course, it is a much smaller thing than the work here. On Wednesday night I suppose my audience would count about three hundred, while last night in Sheffield it was about as many thousands. I have rarely seen a better men's meeting, and to-night I have another just the same. Moody has gone to Manchester to-day to return to-morrow. I think the work here is going to be splendid. Afl classes are moved, from the Mayor to the beggar.' 86 HENRY DRUMMOND [187S 'Sheffield, January 12th. ' Reginald Radcliffe came last night to help me with the men's meeting. His method was as peculiar as it was successful. We went to the hall where Moody was preaching, sang a hymn with the crowd who could not get in, and then in vited them to adjourn from the street to the Young Men's Hall. By eight o'clock we had five or six hundred of an audience, mostly men. When Radcliffe began he asked the Christians to stand up while he addressed them. About half the audience rose, and he gave them a most earnest charge on the subject of personal holi ness for about ten minutes. He pleaded with them to aim at more entire consecration and to examine themselves to see what hindered them from being filled with the Spirit. The effect upon the unconverted who remained sitting was wonderful. Then instead of asking the anxious to retire to the hall below, as is usually done, Radcliffe asked all the Christians to meet him there for prayer for more holiness. I gave out a hymn, while he and his party withdrew, and in a few minutes was left alone with an audience of two or three hundred unconverted people. Many of them must have been under deep conviction. I addressed them for fifteen minutes, and then made a dedicatory prayer. A minister followed in prayer, and then I asked all who had decided for Christ to rise and leave. Somewhere about fifty were left behind, and we then turned the meeting into an inquiry meeting and spoke personally to each of them. I had about a dozen men in a corner and one after another came to the light. All over the hall the same /Et. 23] THE GREAT MISSION 87 thing was going on, and the result, so far as the unconverted were concerned, was one of the best inquiry meetings we have ever had, and so far as the Christians were concerned, one of the most delightful and memorable prayer meetings of their lives.' 'Queen's Hotel, Birmingham, Friday, Jan. 29, 1875. 'A telegram this morning from Moody sent me off here post-haste. I have just tea'd with him and had a long talk over things. The work here has been far greater than anywhere else — far, far greater. Of course I do not know very much about it yet. I was quite prepared to leave this morning, as I knew Moody's ways and I knew I must be in Birmingham before he left it, and that is to-morrow morning. As usual I was sorry to leave the last place, as the work had got into splendid trim. The young men put out the bill which I enclose, without my knowledge, and our meeting was crowded till there was not standing room and about fifty inquirers at the close. . . . Moody is not at all the worse for this great work here, speaking to fifteen thousand people every night. These figures are not exaggerated. He is very careful, and he says so himself. Tell J. I was all over Rogers the cutler's ware house to-day in Sheffield. It is a magnificent business. I saw one knife with one thousand eight hundred and seventy-five blades — quite true. It is a great curiosity. They add a blade every year. Yesterday I saw electroplating, so you see I am picking up information ! ' 88 HENRY DRUMMOND [187S 'Birmingham, February, 1875. ' Once more I am on the eve of a flitting. When you get this I shall either be in Liverpool or on the road to it. A telegram in the usual style from Moody settled the arrangement last night. My work here has not been so great as I should have liked, but still I think a little real honest work has been done. And I have great hopes of a meeting last night with some of the leading young men of the town resulting in permanent work among young men. ... I am almost sorry to leave this, as I have fallen into the houses of such very nice people ; but of course that is not my business, so I must be off. I have lived so much at hotels lately that it is quite a pleasure to catch a glimpse of home life again.' 'Compton Hotel, Liverpool, Monday, Feb. 15, 1875. ' " Liverpool." Well, the programme is running out, you see, town by town. This is the last of the provinces now ; and in another month we shall be on the big campaign. I came here on Saturday afternoon, and after dinner at the hotel was car ried off by one of the Committee on an explora tion expedition thro' the theatres, music halls, concert rooms, and public buildings generally to pick one out for our meeting. I think the prospects are very good. Yesterday was a great day here. Moody's four services were splendid — hundreds of inquirers. In the evening I had a theatre full of "overflows" to look after. This morning there was a monster breakfast of gentle men interested in the movement, which went off very well. I have fallen quite among friends here — Stewart, who worked with me in Sunder- MT.2i] THE GREAT MISSION 89 land, and two college classmates, Fraser from Alloa and M'Leod have churches near here. I quite enjoyed meeting them, as they are about the only " kent faces " I have seen for some time. . . . I got a treat last night. Moody sat up alone with me till near i o'clock telling me the story of his life. He told me the whole thing. A reporter might have made his fortune out of it ! ' The mission of Messrs. Moody and Sankey to Liver pool produced greater results than they had achieved in any other town. On the last day of their visit a meeting was held for anxious inquirers who were admitted by ticket. ' Not less- than five thousand presented tickets. Mr. Moody's address was directed to the clearing away of doubts and difficulties, and at its close he called upon all who were willing to trust themselves to Christ there and then to rise to their feet. With much manifest emotion a vast multitude of persons, quite two-thirds of all who were present, stood up. This was followed by an after meeting, when some four hundred or five hundred awakened souls were conversed with personally.' Another witness says of this meeting : ' It was a time of solemn surrender : no startling appeals had been listened to ; the noonday sun, and not the glare of gaslight, shone into the building ; there was nothing to excite any one; yet the close-pressed phalanx of city merchants and ministers on the platform had a struggle to repress emotion.' 'An equal number remained after the women's meeting in the afternoon, but perhaps the most remarkable meeting was that of the men in the evening. The great hall was crammed with some twelve hundred. Mr. Moody delivered the same sermon as to the women in the afternoon. It is a fact worthy of notice that a very much larger number of men seemed to be impressed than of women in the afternoon. In the afternoon three hymns had to be sung after the address, and repeated invitations given, before 90 HENRY DRUMMOND ['87S the inquiry room was filled with women, whereas in the even ing no sooner was the address finished than the same room was crowded with men before the first hymn was ended, while hundreds more remained to seek and to find in the large hall.' Drummond's meetings with young men in the Cir cus are said to have been ' as much owned as Mr. Moody's were.' For weeks he had ten or twelve hundred every night. I can find only two of his own letters about them, written after Moody left for Lon don. 'Compton Hotel, Liverpool, March 19, 1875. ' . . . Must Still hold the fort here for a little. We are getting up deputations all over the country. Last night I was at a place fifteen miles off by sea starting a young men's meeting, and I go back there to-night and to-morrow. To-night I shall hurry the meeting and take cab and ferry back to Liverpool to my own meeting in the Circus at nine, and the same to-morrow. . . . The people here are very kind: I have got to know nearly the whole religious public, and could be out to breakfast, dinner, or tea every day, but I decline all invitations. . . . This is the great race week in Liverpool, and the town is swarming with all manner of blackguards. [He had his pockets picked by one.] . . . Moody is much encouraged by London. To tell the truth, I am in no hurry to get there. I daresay I shall have had enough of it before the four months are out.' 'Liverpool [undated, about the Sth AprU]. 'My last week in Liverpool. Moody was here again and almost insisted upon my going with him on Monday last, but the committee here ¦**-23] THE GREAT MISSION 9 1 begged for another week, and I do not regret hav ing stayed on. We have had some real good work. ' We have still wonderful work here. I have a the atre full of young men to " farewell address " at three, a circus full of working-men at four, another theatre full of men and women at seven in Birk enhead, and the usual circus full of young men again at nine. I shall never forget these young men's meetings here. You have no idea of them. We have never less than one thousand each night, and that is full six weeks without a break. There is not a man in the world that would not envy such a congregation. One can do a year's work in a month in times like these. I have no doubt but that we shall turn out a number of missionaries from among the young men here.' ' The aspect of the Circus,' says a newspaper correspond ent, ' after the meeting was ended and many gone home, was inexpressibly touching. There two men in fustian jackets kneeling in prayer together. In one corner a dozen men standing round an energetic speaker. In another two men are anxiously debating what seems a question of life and death. There are many groups throughout the hall intent on matters of serious moment. There are tears flowing, but hastily wiped away. There are rough lads in dress and man ner, whose looks make you regard them with a brother's love ; and ever and anon the speakers and the spoken kneel down in the sawdust or on the boards in prayer, and then, with a wring of the hand and gratified look, they go home.' The London Mission was begun on March 14th in the Agricultural Hall, Islington, which was seated for thirteen thousand persons, with standing room for a thousand or two more.^ The evening meeting for men 1 There were at first grave exaggerations of the number : it was said that there were twenty-four thousand seats and twenty-five thousand persons present. 92 HENRY DRUMMOND [187S filled it to its utmost capacity, and during the following week the gatherings varied from four to fourteen thou sand. One of them was addressed by Dr. R. W. Dale, who afterwards published the very impressive account which he gave of the work in Birmingham. On Sunday, the 2 ist, the meetings were nearly as large as on the preceding Sunday. The noon prayer-meeting was held in Exeter Hall. The Opera House, Haymarket, was taken for West End meetings, the Victoria Thea tre in the Waterloo Road for the south side, and a large wooden hall was built in the far east. With scarcely an exception the daily press ' spoke of the work in terms of respect, even of hopefulness ' ; and the interest in it spread to all classes of society. There is no doubt that an immense proportion of those who attended the monster meetings were already church members, and in so vast a population as Lon don, even so strong a movement could touch only the fringes of the careless and the vicious masses. Yet even these fringes amounted to much. There were as many as two hundred anxious inquirers every night at the Agricultural Hall ; many more whose hearts had been touched went away without confessing it ; while nearly every one of the tens of thousands of Christians who heard the evangelists was quickened and stimulated. The work spread rapidly. In a leading article, the Times of Good Friday declared that it was falling off. On that evening, on Easter Sunday, and all the follow ing week the meetings were larger than ever. Drummond came up to London about the close of the first week in April. ^T. 23] THE GREAT MISSION 93 To fohn F. Ewing 'Friday, April 23, 1875. ' If you knew how I am torn to pieces with work, you would not abuse me. You are a good fellow to write, and you deserve to be encouraged. I like to hear from young ministers! The last I heard of you was that you were doing " a most plucky thing." I am thoroughly glad of the line you have gone into.^ When I become a young minister it is exactly what I shall do. ' I wish I had time to tell you of myself. The Liverpool work was very grand. London has been a fair success only, I mean after Liverpool. Many things were against work among the young men, but still we have had a very real work. I leave the N. meeting to take care of itself after this week, and go "away down east," as Moody would say. There we have pitched a tent to hold a thousand young men, which we expect to have crammed every night. After setting that a-going, I think the next move will be to the Haymarket Opera House, where I expect Stalker and you will make your first appearance in a London theatre, and I shall announce you before hand as two swells from the provinces ! Pardon me for being in such a serious vein. I have been writing Moody's sermons all day; you know they are being published under my most distinguished editorship.' 'London, Saturday, April 24th. ' A sudden turn in the state of affairs yesterday has banished me to the South of London, and I fear 1 Ewing had undertaken the formation of a new congregation in a working- class district of Dundee. 94 HENRY DRUMMOND [187S it will be impossible for me to come to the station on Tuesday, but I shall meet you at the Noon meeting at the Opera House. The reason of my going to the S. is because Stalker and you are coming. Moody, the moment he heard of it, put you both down for work there, and " the young men from Edinburgh " are to have full swing of the Victoria Theatre for the whole week. [He reports on the arrival of others.] I am divided equally between revival and arrival work.' To His Father 'Cannon Street Hotel, London, May 11, 1875. ' Everything is bright outside and inside, and I only wish you were here to share in the enjoyment. How would you like to see an acre of people? That is exactly the size of the audience to which Mr. Moody preaches every night in the East of London. Here is Moody's programme: Drive three miles to Noon meeting ; lunch ; Bible read ing at 3.30 followed by inquiry meeting till at least 5 ; then preaching in the Opera House at 6.30; then very short inquiry meeting; then drive five miles to East End to preach to twelve thousand at 8.30; then inquiry meeting; then drive five or six miles home. This is every day this week and next— a terrible strain, which, however, he never seems to feel for a moment. The work is coming out grandly now, and I think the next two months will witness wonderful results. It is deepening on every side, and even " London " is beginning to be moved. Moody says Sunday was the best day of his life.' ^T. 23] THE GREAT MISSION 95 'Cannon Street Hotel, May 14, 1875. •Your huge remittance came to me all right this morning via James. I shall ride once more upon a 'bus, and pay my way like a man and a Drum mond.^ 'I expect to leave this on Wednesday night after the meetings are over by the night mail, and as I am so flush I should not wonder if Mr. Pullman Sleeping Car should have the honour of conveying me and my co-worker, Captain Moreton, R.N.' He goes to a great convention in Liverpool, and looks forward to another at Brighton, though he does ' not at all approve of views held by some of the lead ing supporters.' ' We had a splendid young men's meeting last night in London, the best we have had there. It is growing every night. Moody takes it to-morrow, and I shall be back for Saturday.' To His Mother 'London, May 27, 1875. 'Your flowers made me just a little homesick, they had such a country air about them. I declare I had almost forgotten there were such things as daisies. However, at latest next week, I shall renew my acquaintance with fresh air. The greatest event in my programme this week was a large children's meeting in the Opera House. I am to have another on Saturday along with Mr. Sankey, and expect a great hubbub!' ^ Drummond appears to have refused during this mission all remuneration and only sometimes to have taken all his expenses. 96 HENRY DRUMMOND ['875 'Haymarket Opera House, May (?). 'A large number of inquirers are just waiting from the afternoon Bible reading, and I must give my afternoon to them.' To His Father 'Cannon Street Hotel, June 23, 1875. 'The 1 2th of July is Moody's last day, I think. He goes for a short tour after that, and his berth is taken for the 4th of August by the National liner Spain. The Eton affair makes much noise, but will do great good. Moody thinks, in making the higher circles show their colours on the gen eral question. He expects his friends, who are very influential, will come out and show who they are. The actual meeting at Eton was a great success. Never believe a word the papers say about the work. They are, almost without ex ception, always wrong. ... I am to have the privilege of joining Moody (and three others) in a series of Bible studies every morning for full two hours. You must know how much I stand in need of teaching, with so much preoccupation and so much attempt to teach others. You will approve this, for I think you must have been frightened for me sometimes.' In July he went to start a mission at Epsom. ' Cannon Street Hotel, July 9. ' I had a grand meeting on Monday night at 9 p.m. The district is terribly dead, so we had at first a general meeting at 7.30, and then the men's meet ing [for which he had specially gone] at 9. The -ffiT. 23] THE GREAT MISSION 97 latter was crammed away out into the street with men, many of them jockeys and racing men, just the kind to reach. It was a most interesting meet ing, and some thirty or forty remained anxious. Next night there were one hundred in the inquiry room, and the following night two hundred. I have agreed to go down again on Saturday night. It is a magnificent chance for work, and I look forward to a hundred or two in the after meeting. I believe I am to have the honour of being sent home on a special engine after the meeting, some of the gentlemen who are getting up the work having an interest in the railway. A young man who has been recently converted stood up in our meeting the night before last, and told us he had gambled away half a fortune before his conver sion, and kept five race horses. He is a splendid young fellow, and a most genuine case. He has been having meetings himself near his own house, and has done a great deal of good. ' The crowds now to hear Moody are terrific ; the panic of the papers was of course exaggerated.' Twenty-five years have passed since the American evangelists began their mission to Great Britain. We have seen how profoundly the churches were stirred, and the crowds outside the churches ; the tens of thou sands who thronged the meetings ; the hundreds upon hundreds who filled each inquiry room, professing penitence, and, in the great majority of cases, new faith in Jesus Christ and experience of His power to make them better men. No one can doubt the enor mous power of the movement so long as it lasted. What has it left behind.? Probably, as we have seen, there never was a move- 98 HENRY DRUMMOND ['87S ment of the kind in which religious extravagance and dissipation were more honestly discouraged. In the leaders there was no want of the healthy discrimina tion and genial charity without which our religious zeal so fatally develops into Pharisaism. The preach ing was Biblical and ethical. The doctrines were those of Catholic Christianity. The salvation proclaimed was, with some exceptions, salvation not from hell but from sin. And the new faith and energy of the converts was nearly everywhere guided into profitable forms of activity, with effects upon character and ser vice that, as we shall presently see, have endured until to-day. To form, however, a just appreciation of the move ment, we must recall some things upon the other side. We must remember the perils to which, in our civil isation, such enormous crowds of converts were im mediately exposed. While revivals rise and fall, the influences of worldliness and of vice abide among us with fresh and awful persistency. Many of the con verts, some even of the prominent workers, of the great Mission, fell to that hereditary taint of drunk enness which infects our nation's blood ; others not so cursed fell as low before our careless and cruel drinking customs, although not all of these were slain, but in the end many won the victory to which the Mission first inspired them. We must remember, too, that so vast and rapid a movement was bound to suffer the defects of its qualities. Among the large numbers who were certified as adhering to the Mission, there was a proportion of the comfortable middle class, who spent their leisure in running from meeting to meeting, and who, from that day to this, act as if they believed that such conventions were at once the high est duty and happiest privilege of religion. Their iEr. 23] THE GREAT MISSION 99 excitement and the habits which it has formed have not been beneficial to Christianity. Further, we cannot help observing that the idealism of the movement, the emphasis which it laid on general principles, and the speed with which multitudes were roused to the con viction of these, conspired with the general excitement to destroy, in a certain class of minds, all sense for facts, and to corrupt their conscience for accuracy. This is, perhaps, natural to every idealist movement, — one marks it in certain philosophies of the century, — but it appears to be the besetting temptation of a zealous and sanguine evangelicalism. It was curiously real ised in the frequent exaggeration of the numbers re ported to have attended the various meetings. But some of the forms which it assumed were more serious. One was a temptation to ignore all religious expe rience which lay outside the definite theology of the movement, and a stubborn refusal to recognise the manifest fruits of God's Spirit apart from the formulas and processes by which its converts had arrived at the truth. And another form of this vice was the unwill ingness to see in Scripture any facts save such as might be used to confirm a very narrow theory of in spiration, nor any teaching save the few lines of evan gelical doctrine and special providence upon which the preaching of the movement mainly ran. Mr. Moody himself was free from all these defects — except that of a narrow and unscriptural theory of inspiration. But during the last twenty-five years they have all developed in the circles whose religious life God used him to quicken so powerfully ; and much of evangel icalism, both in its preaching and in its journahsm, has been beset by narrowness, inaccuracy, and the fear to acknowledge some of the healthiest and divinest, movements of our time. IGO HENRY DRUMMOND [1874-7S But while all these defects have to be noted, how much falls to the bright side of the reckoning! Every one who shared in the movement or who has read its history will admit without question those beneficial effects which we have already noted, upon the mem bership and the ministry of all the Churches. This Mission lifted thousands and tens of thousands of persons already trained in religion to a more clear and decided consciousness of their Christianity. It baptized crowds in the Spirit of Jesus, and opened the eyes of innumerable men and women to the reality of the great facts of repentance and conversion, to the possibility of self-control and of peace by God's Spirit. We have admired the organisation of its converts. The young men who came under its influence are now in middle life, and to-day one can point to min isters in many churches, and to laymen in charge of the municipal and social interests of almost every town, who were first roused to faith and first enlisted in the cause of God and of their fellow-men by the evangelists of 1873-75. The Spirit of our God works among us in many other ways than by 'revivals' and church services, and the evangelical movement which Messrs. Moody and Sankey did so much to reinforce has required every iota of the influence of science to teach it tolerance, accuracy, and fearless ness of facts, and all the strength of the Socialist move ment to rewaken within it that sense of civic and economic duty by which the older evangelicalism of Wilberforce, Chalmers, and Shaftesbury was so nobly distinguished. Among the men who have seen this, and who have not only preserved their faith amid the new distractions of our time, but to their faith have added knowledge and patience, and the brotheriy love that means service of the commonweal, have been ^®r. 23] THE GREAT MISSION IOI many — very many — converts of the two American evangelists, whom God in His grace sent to our shores twenty-five years ago. We shall see in the rest of this biography how Henry Drummond contributed to this wider evangeli calism of our day; meantime let us understand how he helped the movement which did so much to inspire it, and how the movement helped him. From April, 1874, to July, 1875, he followed up the work of the evangelists in the cities of Ireland and England, and he laboured by their side in London. His letters have made us familiar with the general character of his work. The bulk of it was the prepa ration and delivery of addresses, and as he sometimes spoke every night for weeks in the same hall his material began to grow in quantity. During this period he probably composed the first drafts of most of the discourses for which in later years he became famous. The discourses published after his death in the volume entitled The Ideal Life were produced either now or in the immediately subsequent years ; so also his great address on ' Seek ye first the King dom of God.' But he had also spoken on ' The Great est Thing in the World,' and ' The Changed Life.' His preaching, therefore, ranged over all the great doctrines and facts of Christianity: Sin and Salva tion, Penitence, The Atonement, Regeneration, Con version, Sanctification, The Power of the Spirit, Christ's Teaching about Himself and about a Future Life — on all these, in contrast to the smaller list of topics to which he limited himself in later years, he preached again and again and with great detail. He stuck close to the Bible. He used the incidents of the Old Testament to enforce the teaching of the New, just as older evangelists did. His theology was I02 HENRY DRUMMOND [1874-7S practically that of the leaders of the movement, and among crowds who were always more or less ready to mark the slightest deflection from orthodoxy there appears never to have arisen any suspicion of a dif ference between his teaching and the teaching of the authorities. But his manner of presentation was entirely his own, and in speaking to young men he never forgot that he must put things differently from the way in which things were put to their elders. He acted on the principle, which he so often en forced, that 'a young man's rehgion could not be the same as his grandmother's.' His style of speak ing was simple and clear; he kept to the concrete, and already revealed his famous powers of illustration and analogy. His manner was quiet and self-possessed. He had the opportunity, so invaluable to the young preacher, of giving the same addresses again and again, so that he could sift and balance them; nor did he ever yield to the temptation, which such an oppor tunity often brings with it, of relaxing his preparation, but this was always hard and thorough. ' One thing has impressed me more than anything I heard at the [Agricultural] Hall, and that is the quiet yet deep and sincere manner in which he always prays and speaks at the Young Men's Meeting.' ' I thank God for His goodness in sending you to tell the Gospel of Christ in a manner so simple and loving that many together with myself were brought to a saving know ledge of the truth.' ^ He had not a strong, nor in any way a remarkable, voice, but he used it easily in the largest meetings. There was no attempt at oratory, nor any sign of strain ; and, besides the absence of all ambition after personal effect, this was due to careful preparation for each occasion and to that exquisite 1 From a man, a member of the Church of England. ^T. 23] THE GREAT MISSION IO3 taste which the last few years of discipline in reading and in writing had perfected. He grew, too, to be very expert in managing meetings. What chances he had ! Who could ever again fear or fail, that at twenty- three had organised the meetings he had to organise or had faced the crowds he had to face night after night ! But his opportunities would have been noth ing without himself. Not experience only nor cool ness, but quick sympathy which does not always go with coolness, rapid appreciation of other men's gifts and the power of enlisting them, perfect courtesy, good humour, and a strong dramatic interest, made him an ideal chairman. There was the tall lithe figure, the keen eyes, the unstrained voice, the imperturbable spirit, the purity and earnestness which were behind all, the nameless radiance that surrounded him as of a fresh spring morning — but indeed it is his biogra pher's despair to explain to those who never felt it the equal charm and force which came out from him. In higher things, too, the movement must have re fined the character we found so perfect in after years. Dr. Stalker, who shared so much of the work among the young men, has written the following notes, which illustrate both this and the other features of which we have been speaking : — ' Your letter has made me recall that glorious time ; but I find that while I remember the general impres sions most distinctly, I have not a very precise recol lection of details. ' Perhaps the impression which oftenest recurs to me is the absolute purity of motive which at that time possessed us. Though suddenly thrust into unusual prominence, we thought of nothing whatever but the work itself. This produced a curious confidence, in which there was not the least touch of self-conscious- I04 HENRY DRUMMOND [»874-7S ness. The very largest meetings were in no wise formidable, and if the highest in the land had been present, we should only have been glad to have addi tional hearers for the message of salvation. If we had little of the humility which thinks disparagingly of self, we had what has always since then seemed to me the better humility which forgets self altogether. In deed, at that time, we had many experiences which have ever since made Christ intelligible; and the Book of the Acts of the Apostles especially has a meaning to those who have passed through such a movement which it could scarcely, I should think, have for any one else. ' Henry retained this humility of self-forgetfulness throughout life ; but at that time, when he was only about three-and-twenty and very youthful looking, it must have been curious to see him handling meetings of thousands with the most perfect ease, though this did not occur to any of us then. I was with him con ducting meetings scores of times, and from the first he had the most perfect, effortless command of every audience which I have ever seen in any speaker. It was like mesmerism ; and I have often wondered whether it actually had any connection with the mes meric powers which he occasionally exhibited for the amusement of his friends. His speaking was never loud nor excited ; there was never any straining after profundity or picturesqueness or effect of any kind; but every person in the audience followed the speaker from the first word to the last with out wandering for a moment. He never spoke of his preparation, as other speakers do; and to this hour I am not quite certain whether or not he pre pared elaborately, but I should think he did. At all events I know that his books were written with the ^T. 23] THE GREAT MISSION IO5 thoroughness of a French stylist. I have heard his young disciples trying, in evangelistic addresses, to re peat his stories ; and then one realised by contrast the perfection of his way of telling them. He \yas not at his best in addressing very large meetings, but in an audience not exceeding five hundred his quiet voice and simple manner found their natural range.' But to associate Henry Drummond only with meet ings and addresses would be to misrepresent him. Had he ever been carried away with the size and success of these, had he ever been tempted to swerve from his own principle that the individual was the aim and object of religion, he must have been brought back by one element of the meetings themselves. At each of these there were handed up to the chairman a large number of requests for prayer, which in nine cases out of ten had to do with the darkness or the tragedy of some individual life. Carefully preserved among his documents are some scores of these anony mous scraps of paper, shabby, soiled, and often mis spelt, each of them the confession of a fallen soul, or the sob of a broken heart, or the cry for warmth of a cold and a starving one. From vice or servitude to some besetting sin, from long doubt and vain struggle to the light, from wrecked and dreary homes, or wasted by love and fear that had battled for years over the characters of those who were dearest to them, they had crept to the meetings, and felt the strength of the faith that was present, and cried to be lifted upon it as their last chance. Drummond sought out many of these, and was sought by many more. He worked hard in the inquiry rooms, but shy men, who would not stand up in a meeting, nor enter an inquiry room, waited for him by the doors as he came out, or waylaid him in the street, or wrote, asking him I06 HENRY DRUMMOND [1874-7S for an interview. He took great trouble with every one of them, as much trouble and interest as if each was a large meeting. His sympathy, his leisure from himself, his strength, won their confidence, as his per sonal charm on the platform had first stirred their hope, and he thus became acquainted with the secrets of hundreds of lives. Men felt he was not a voice merely, but a friend, and on his arm they were lifted up.^ He was always hopeful about the most hopeless, picked out some good points in the worst, and sent a man away feeling that he was trusted once more, not only by this friend, but by Christ, by God. The affection which such treatment aroused was ex traordinary. I have seen numbers of letters, common place enough but for the intense love and gratitude which they breathe, and which sometimes approaches worship. It was such power as was possessed by some of the greatest of the medieval saints — and he was not twenty-four. One man said to me only the other day, ' Since Drummond died I have not been able to help praying to him.' He had a great love, too, for all odd and grotesque characters. His patience with bores was his friends' wonder to the end ; but he dearly liked to come across the unconventional, the Bohemian, and the vagrant. Showmen of all sorts were such a joy to him, and he got on so well with them, that we used to nickname him Barnum. A Spanish guitar-player, a laddie who performed on the penny whistle, music-hall singers, a cornet-player, a concertina-player — he had a knack of picking them out and giving them work to do in the 1 Mr. R. R. Simpson sends the following : 'At an inquiry meeting in the Assembly Hall I spoke to a bright-looking young man and found that he had decided for Christ. On my asking him what led him to decision, the striking answer was, " It was the way Mr. Drummond laid his hand on my shoulder and looked me in the face that led me to Christ." ' ^T. 23] THE GREAT MISSION 107 meetings. Nor was he often taken in. So great a movement had, of course, among its adherents many of sordid and worldly motives : some contemptible, some very amusing. One good lady, who had never spoken to him, wrote that she is ' sure he is her friend, wants to introduce him to her eleven children and nineteen grandchildren, and has asked them all to a one o'clock dinner to-morrow to meet him : ' she is sure he will not disappoint her. People who had lost heavily by American railways passionately urge him to get Moody and Sankey to undertake among their countrymen a crusade for the recovery of their lost investments. Men and women of the idle middle class and busy stock ex change brokers send him verses and tracts to publish. There were countless appeals for employment; offers of ' Christian lodgings ' for young men ; requests for ser mons for collections from clergymen whose churches were in debt ; plaintive notes from flute-players to know why their offers to give solos at the meetings have not been attended to ; claims to be reimbursed for losses caused by faithful adherence to the movement; re proaches from speakers and other workers that they have never had one word of praise — and so forth. One of the kinds of appeal that gave him most trouble was that from well-intentioned people who wanted him to speak to their young relatives about their souls, when these young relatives had no wish to be spoken to. On the occasions when he could not escape such conversa tions, he would begin thus : ' I suppose you know this is a put-up job,' or thus, ' What you are suffering from is too much religion, isn't it ? ' His insight was mar vellous. In one of the London after meetings, he said to a girl, ' You must give up reading James's Anxious Inquirer' and she wondered how he guessed she was reading it. A fortnight of the Testament set her I08 HENRY DRUMMOND ['874-75 right. When he helped another, she said, ' It's not so simple as that in James's Anxious Inquirer' ^ A great deal of the work was very painful. He once said, ' Such tales of woe I've heard in Moody's inquiry room that I've felt I must go and change my very clothes after the contact.' Thus at twenty-three he saw life on all its sides, learned the secrets of countless char acters, and was trusted and hung upon by thousands of his fellow-men. Yet he stepped from it all unspoiled, and the next session went quietly back to college. ^ From notes by Professor Simpson. CHAPTER V BACK TO COLLEGE Henry Drummond did not go back to college with out a struggle. Invitations to conduct missions poured in upon him from all quarters. The leaders of the work pleaded that the last two years had surely proved his calling as an evangelist ; and on his part he shrank from settling down as the minister of a congrega tion, with two sermons to prepare every week. But his parents had renewed their pressure upon him, and in letters, which he has kept, his wisest friends warned him of the perils of the wandering evan gelist's life, the faults which it breeds in the best of characters, and the hindrances which it sets to con scientious preparation and general intellectual growth. Between these opposite influences he was still hesitat ing, when he went, in August, 1875, fo spend a holi day with his friend Robert W. Barbour, at Bonskeid, in Perthshire. Barbour had just finished a brilliant course at Edinburgh University, — nine class medals, the prize poem, and a double first degree in Classics and Philosophy, — but had found time with it all for work among young men in Moody and Sankey's mis sion. After his success at Edinburgh — we who followed him there believed that there was no distinc tion beyond his reach — and with his political oppor tunities as the son of a large landowner, Barbour had been urged to go to Oxford, with a view to entering Parliament. But he resolved to give himself to the 109 IIO HENRY drummond ["875 ministry of the Free Church, and was now intending to enter New College in the following October. Drummond and he discussed their future at some length, and his mother, Mrs. George Freeland Bar bour, although fully aware of Drummond's powers as an evangelist, lent her influence to persuade him to complete his studies for the regular ministry. Drum mond described the result in a statement made to Professor Simpson shortly before his death : — ' For a year and a half after Moody's visit (he said) he was sure that he had found his vocation, till one Sunday forenoon on the steps of Bonskeid he had a long talk with Mrs. George Barbour, who showed him how the evangelist's career was apt to be a failure — perhaps a few years of enthusi asm and blessing, then carelessness, no study, no spiritual fruits; too often a sad collapse. That sent him back to his last year at college.' This is confirmed by the following letter to Robert Barbour. The 'sore leg,' on which so much depended, was a sprained ankle from a stumble over a stone on the slopes between Fincastle and Bonskeid. 'Glen Elm Lodge, Stirling, Oct. 23, 1875. ' My DEAR Barbour, — ... Very sorry to hear you have been ill. You are much more to be pitied than I, for I count my sore leg one of the best things that ever happened to me. It was the very thing I needed. I have got time to look at all sorts of things, and have even made an attempt to write a first sermon. Altho' the first sermon, it was not the first, or the fiftieth, attempt, but only differed from the others by being, if any- Mt. 24] BACK TO COLLEGE III thing, a greater failure. I suppose I shall have to do penance for this some day, but I don't understand how men can knock together two sermons a week — as if they were rabbit hutches. ' My main object in writing is to tell you that I have decided to go to Edinburgh this winter. For the last fortnight things have been growing clearer, and my mind is now quite made up to go. I hope I am doing the right thing. My horizon was very dark when I was at Bonskeid, but I know being there did me good. Besides, it is the pleasantest recollection I have of this autumn ; so I emphatically demur to your statement that it was " unfortunate." ' A year later, looking back to the same accident, he writes again to Barbour: — ' I should rather like to make a pilgrimage to that stone at Bonskeid. Sometimes I think I owe more to it than I know. Perhaps if it had not been for that stone I should not have been at college this winter. " That stone ! " I wish it had been anything else but a stone. A wheel barrow would almost have been as poetical.' How strong the temptations were to continue as an evangelist may be felt from the following letter which Drummond received after he had begun the winter session, but which was only one of many similar appeals that reached him while his mind was still un certain. Mr. Moody had begun his American cam paign at Philadelphia in November. 112 HENRY drummond ['87S-76 From, Mr. Moody ' Philadelphia, Dec. 4, 1875. 'My dear Drummond,' — The work among young men in this country is growing splendidly. I am glad I went to England to learn how to reach young men. Could you come over and help us ? We want you much and will see that all expenses are paid. I think you would get a few thousand souls on these shores, if you should come. I miss you more than I can tell. You do not know how much I want you with me. Come if you possibly can. . . . Since I got your letters I think of you and the College. May God bless you, and make you thrive in His Kingdom, is my prayer. Yours with a heart full of love, , -^ ^ Moody.' When Drummond came back to college, he found his contemporaries gone from it, his juniors already in the Fourth Year, which he entered, and a fresh set of men in the years behind them. Some of the latter, like Richard Cameron, Frank Gordon, and Robert Barbour he knew : they had taken part in the great Mission ; but the men who had shared with him the first and most profound experiences of it were already in the ministry ; and, while the College as a whole was still under its glamour, and the students regarded him self with respect and admiration, their religious inter ests were far from being identified with its methods. Among them were an unusual number of able men. The ablest of all was Peter Thomson, the son of an Aberdeenshire farm-grieve, who had graduated with first-class honours at Aberdeen, and carried all before him at New College. He was now President of the Theological Society, and assistant to Professor David son. We who were entering the First Year had learned from him any Hebrew we knew, and looked up to him with great respect. His ability, kindliness, and weight ^T. 24] BACK TO COLLEGE 113 of character formed the chief influence of that session. Round him, in his own year, were a group of solid and thoughtful men, — among them George Steven, now of Free St. Bernard's Church in Edinburgh, — who set the life of the College upon scholarly but strenu ously religious lines. The First Year contained the phenomenal number of five men with first-class hon ours — three of them with double firsts. There was a strong intellectual rivalry. The debates in the Theo logical Society were vigorous and extremely interest ing. Thomson, who had already studied at Leipzig, followed up Dr. Davidson's lectures, and brought be fore the meetings the facts which recent criticism had laid bare in the Old Testament. But the chief inter est of the society was in Dogmatic Theology. A num ber of the members were strong in philosophy ; D. M. Ross was assisting Professor Campbell Fraser at the University, and Barbour and Sorley had just come from it with first-class philosophical honours. Others had been at German universities, and those who had not were reading Dr. George Matheson's Introduction to the Study of German Theology, which had just been published. Thomson, who had left Aberdeen with the very singular conviction that in Mill's philosophy, as interpreted by Bain, he was furnished with a de fence for the Christian faith, had found this fail him, and a great deal of his faith fail with it.^ After seeking in vain for another philosophy reconcil able with Christian doctrine, he was finding, and leading others towards, a dogmatic based upon the facts of religious experience. In this pursuit, the stu dents were helped by the lectures of Dr. Davidson, who taught them Old Testament Theology, not as the ' See his very interesting Memoirs, entitled A Scotch Student, by the Rev- George Steven, M.A. Edinburgh, Macniven and Wallace, 2d ed., 1881. 114 HENRY DRUMMOND [187S-76 dogmas of a church, but as the living experience of a oreat people and its greatest individuals ; by the lec tures of Dr. Rainy upon Church History, with their fascinating presentation of the personal religion of the chief doctors of the Church ; and by the study of Schleiermacher, for the reading of whose Der Christ- liche Glaube a small club was formed. In the saptie direction we found of value Miiller's Doctrine of Sin, Rothe's Dogmatik, with its priceless paragraphs upon the religious roots of each dogma, and his essays, Zur Dogmatik. The effect upon the debates in the Theo logical Society was that all the best men argued for truths which they had lived upon, or had seen working in the lives of others; it can be imagined how much they were helped in this by their experience of the Great Revival in which so many of them had taken part. The practical and the theoretical thus devel oped in close cooperation, with inestimable benefit to both. The strong intellectual activities of the College were in the healthiest possible touch with real life. At the same time the College was full of happy play, and there was a good deal of joking. Two comic papers were started by the Fourth Year and by the First: The Patagonian Candle, a Missionary Record, and The Soap and Towel, a parody upon Spurgeon's famous title. The fun of these was more furious than witty. Into this life Drummond slipped from his great experiences very quietly. We younger men, who had not been in the Moody movement, were a little afraid of him and of the chance of his tackling us upon our own religious life. But we found him unaggressive, treating us as equals, willing to be our friend, entering into our fun, and even contributing to our comic papers. After dinner some of the students used to gather in a coffee-house to drink coffee, and one of ^T. 24] BACK TO COLLEGE I 1 5 my earliest visions of Drummond was as he stood up with the rest in due solemnity to chant a nonsense verse, which invariably accompanied this function. Soon our feeling of his friendliness deepened to grati tude for his power of doing us good. It was a power somewhat difficult to define, for it was exercised almost imperceptibly. We felt that he was interested in us, and his interest being without officiousness won our confidence and made us frank with him. We could tell him, as we could not tell others, the worst about ourselves, — the worst, and just as easily also, the best, our ideals and ambitions, of which men are often as ashamed to speak as they are about their sins. To the latter he was never indulgent, or aught but faithful with those who confessed to him. But in every man he saw good, which the man himself had either forgotten or was ignorant of. ' He and Robert Barbour,' said a fellow-student, ' were the only two men I ever knew who helped you to feel that you were stronger and your work better than you had dared to believe.' His sunniness brought hope with it to everybody about him ; and the air of distinction which he carried was so manifestly an air of purity, and not of pride, that it helped you to keep yourself separate from what was base or trivial. On his part Drummond laid himself out to learn from the new men among whom he was thrown; and in his constant humility he made no difference be tween those who were older and those who were younger than himself. For philosophy he had never any gift, and he often chaffed those who had. But the effort of the leaders of the College to find a dog matic based on experience enlisted his sympathy, and I think it was this year that he mastered Miiller's great work on Sin, which had ever afterwards some Il6 HENRY DRUMMOND [1875-76 influence on his thinking. He had a keen sense for facts; and the facts of Old Testament criticism, of which he heard from Thomson and others, made a deep impression on his mind. He did not yet throw off the narrow theory of inspiration upon which he had worked with the Bible, but all he learned prepared him for further influence in the same direction, and engaged his sympathies for the great movement which was now rising in Scotland under the hands of Pro fessor Robertson Smith. Drummond did not forget the duties of an evange list, nor fail to infect some of his fellow-students with an enthusiasm for them. During the winter he en gaged the ' Gaiety ' Music Hall in Chambers Street for a number of Sunday evenings, for meetings of men. When he spoke the hall was full, and at the after- meetings there were groups of inquirers. But he took few of the addresses himself, and the speaking was mostly by other students. The audience, chiefly of students in arts and medicine, clerks and working- men, must often have been puzzled, for one address was entirely on the Kenotic Theory of the Humiliation of our Lord, and in another, Spinoza was quoted three times. One would hke to know how Drummond dealt with the criminals. Possibly he intended the mission more for the speakers than their audience, for his criticism of them was unsparing. From these meetings came the name of the Gaiety Club. It was founded at a small gathering invited by Provost Swan of Kirkcaldy to his country-house near Cupar, and was at first called, after this house, the ' Springfield Club.' Besides Provost Swan, the orig inal members were James Stalker, then minister at Kirkcaldy, James Brown of Tillicoultry, John F. Ewing, of Dundee, John Watson of Logiealmond; ^T. 24] BACK TO COLLEGE 1 1 7 and from New College, Drummond, D. M. Ross, Frank Gordon, and Robert Barbour. Alexander Skene, now of St. Kilda's, Melbourne, joined them a little later, the present writer in 1883, and Dr. Hugh Barbour upon his brother's death in 1891. An arrangement was made to meet every spring from a Monday to Saturday at some country inn ; and for twenty-two years these annual gatherings have been sustained without a break. Drummond attended every one of them save three. At first some of the evenings were set apart for criticism of each other's growth up wards or downwards during the year. But as time went on this grew less formal, and the gathering became simply one of close friends, members of the same church, with very sacred memories of work and study together in the service of Christ, and with com mon interests in literature and religion. Every man discusses with the rest his own work planned or achieved, and I do not think that there can be any where a group of friends who have more constantly shared each other's aspirations, or who have more benefited by each other's criticism. If one could be more loyal than another it was Drummond. This was the innermost circle among his countless friends ; and for our part, while we look back with thankfulness to the three lives of our fellowship that are now com pleted and have passed to God, Ewing's, Barbour's, and Drummond's, it is our chief pride that Drummond was one of us. In April, 1876, Drummond finished his four years' course of Divinity, and passed the second part of the exit examination.' The ensuing summer he spent ^ In Church History (Puritanism), Systematic Theology (The Person of Christ and Doctrine of the Church), and Biblical Theology. He made 636 marks out of 800. 1X8 HENRY DRUMMOND [187^ partly on holiday and partly in short courses of evan gelistic work. He received several invitations from ministers to become their assistant, and several others to preach as a candidate for vacant charges, but he declined them all, and though in the ordinary course he should have taken license to preach, he was still so uncertain of his future that he postponed this first step towards the full orders of the Presbyterian ministry. The following letters were written by him during the summer to Mr. and Mrs. James C. Stuart,' with whom he had stayed in Manchester for six weeks in 1874. They are interesting for two features, which he subsequently dropped, the use of conventional religious phrases, and the underlining of portions of the sentences. In the first, he tells how he walked from Grasmere to Keswick and chose the hotel from which he writes in order to meet a party of Oxford students. He is sorry to have missed a good Sabbath at Man chester, but has ' found a mission here.' 'Atkinson's Lake Hotel, Keswick, Monday, Aug. 7, 1876. 'I had some wonderful "leading" on Saturday — all the more that it was unexpected. It would take too long to tell, but I had two distinct and valuable opportunities of talking personally and in detail about the " unsearchable riches." The outline of the first case is somethino; like this. I started in the morning for UUswater, missed a seat on the two coaches, walked half-way, was picked up by a private party, who offered me a seat beside the driver. At first he was very quiet, and after some time I noticed tears in his eyes. 1 Now of Grove Plouse, Altrincham. ^T. 25] BACK TO COLLEGE 119 I found he had just buried his wife. He was in very deep distress. He was a good respectable man, a teetotaler, but plainly did not know the truth. I did not tell him much then, but I got his address and mean to write him to-night. I hope something will come of it ; the poor fellow seemed very anxious. Another of the cases was in coming down Helvellyn. I went to UUswater, dined, and started for Helvellyn alone about two. It was a lovely afternoon and the view from the top was marvellous. In coming down I met a young fellow who was in great anxiety about a companion whom he had lost on the mountain. He had searched everywhere, night was coming on, and he feared his friend had been seized with a fit. He didn't know what to do, but the ques tion, "What do you think of praying?" led to a long and earnest talk. He was a Swedenborgian, but had practically no religion. ... I do not know that any positive good was done ; I mean I saw no immediate effect ; but we talked the whole matter round very freely and plainly. I am afraid these details will be uninteresting on paper, and I will not trouble you with a third. For my own part, I felt very grateful for them. ' To-day to Grasmere Chapel. / got nothing. It poured all afternoon. I read Tersteegen. ' I have met one Moody party at each hotel. I am glad to see the Christian world goes round too. Religion is in a deplorable state in ; I quite felt for it. I should have given something for your "little river." The big sea is wonderfully shallow sometimes. I suppose that is when we are big ourselves. * I go to Newcastle on Wednesday. Thanks for I20 HENRY DRUMMOND ['87^ that brave text. It made me feel quite strong to-day. I do not forget C 'Stirling, Aug. 15, 1876. ' . . . I enjoyed my last day at the Lakes exceedingly, and was perfectly enchanted with Derwentwater. I got a beautiful little canoe and spent the even ing on the Lake, and did not paddle home till it was about dark. The tints on the hills and the lights on the water and the quietness — well, everything was perfect. ' The transition to Newcastle was abrupt. There was a marriage and the inevitable meeting ! Young folk alone. I ran away to hear Henry Moorhouse [the American evangelist]. He wants me to go to America with him. ' He said to me, " You must not let any person gather manna for you — you must go every day and gather it for yourself." ' I give you the beautiful text I got this morning : " Now the Lord my God hath given me rest on every side " (i Kings v. 4).' 'Glen Elm, Stirling, Sept. 21, 1876. ' . . . Thank you very much for Pulsford ; I like it extremely. It has almost become part of myself already, as I have it always by me. What I like about it is its great reverence, not only for reli gion, but for everything and everybody. It seems to be full of " points " besides. Excuse me also remarking on the binding ; one likes to see one's friends decently dressed. I used to wish your Tersteegen was not quite so dilapidated! I am very glad you are at Brighton. ... B. is a place of few, but very happy, memories to me. Firstly, ^T. 25] BACK TO COLLEGE I 2 I it is associated with Frederick William Robert son, from whom I got a great deal of good ; and secondly, with the Brighton convention, from which I got no harm. The first thing I should do if I were there again would be to visit Rob ertson's grave. He used to be one of my few heroes. ' My life is still the same knotless thread that it used to be. I have been trying to do a little here and there, but personally I see no further than before. And, do you know, a strange thought comes to me sometimes that " waiting " has the same kind of effect upon one that affliction has? I do not know truly if this be so, for I do not know what affliction is ; but I sometimes wonder whether or not the effects may not to some small extent run in the same lines. My freshest truth is still " the will of God." May it always be so. It has been a great help to many of my friends here.' In September he was preaching and evangelising in various parts of Scotland. He took a few Sundays in the church in Ayr, and in answer to an invitation from Bonskeid writes from Ayr as follows : — ' I have had no opportunity of deserving a holiday. My programme is full. ... I like Kenman ex ceedingly ; he came with me to G on Sunday, and we tackled the beadle at the close of the service. I really believe the man was converted. At all events, he prayed. Did you ever hear of a beadle praying? I am to be in Ayrshire till Wednesday, and then I hope to be at the Glasgow convention. The programme is rather clumsy, I think. I am hacking my way through two old sermons for Sabbath.' 122 HENRY DRUMMOND [1876-7? In the end of the year he accepted an invitation from Mr. Wilson of the Barclay Church to assist him for some months. '6, Lonsdale Terrace, Edinburgh, Feb. I, 1877. ' , . . Was I "forlorn" when I wrote last? I dare say I might have been, feeling the loneliness of a new position. But that is past now, and I am in full swing of work and very happy. Rather I should say I am very interested. I do not feel that I am in my life-work, however, but am cer tain it is a splendid and unique training for it, and I am sure I shall thank God for it long after wards if I am spared. The work is very heavy, but all very interesting and enjoyable. It includes a sermon on Sabbath, a prayer-meeting address on Wednesday, a children's meeting on Friday, and an evangelistic meeting on Sabbath night. This is the regular weekly programme, but the unengaged nights are generally occupied with meetings of some sort or private work with in quirers, of whom there are always one or two somewhere. Indeed, this last is the best part of it all, and there have been some deeply interesting cases behind the scenes to keep the old fire from quite burning out. ' I have to make new sermons every Sabbath, which take much time and study. ... I have preached a regular series on the " Will of God," and am going to write two or three more still. It is a profound and marvellous subject. But I do not think I am getting the people to take it up.^ ... I have had dreams of coming to Lon- 1 He rather bored his friends these months with his continual insistence on this subject. iET. 25] BACK TO COLLEGE 1 23 don, as I have a very urgent and warm corre spondence from Dr. Dykes just now to come and be his assistant, but I cannot see anything more than dreams in them in the meantime. . . . 'I am trying to live on the text I sent you at Christmas, which seems to me to be one of the most beautiful pieces of teaching in the whole Testament.^ I think I have got a little way in to its meaning, and find it very wonderful . . .' I think that it was at this time of his life that he used to go down every night of the week to the Grass- market and convoy a man home past the public-houses. In March he again wrote that he could not come to Bonskeid. ' 6, Lonsdale Terrace, Saturday. ' I must deny myself this and all other forms of worldliness for at least six weeks, unless the Bar clay steeple comes down in the interim, which is a consummation devoutly to be wished. I feel like a squirrel in a cage just now — hinc illce lach- rymcB ! ' He had thrown himself into the Barclay work with great diligence, not a little inspired by the feelings of affection and admiration which he always felt towards Mr. Wilson. The latter had gathered round him a strong band of young men, and they and the inquirers whom he constantly drew to him were Drummond's chief joy in the work. But the congregational routine was not, as the last letter shows, to his taste, and he felt cramped. Most, if not all, of the discourses pub lished in the The Ideal Life were delivered from the Barclay pulpit. His work there came to a close with the end of April. 1 I Tim. i. 12 (?). 124 HENRY DRUMMOND ['877 To Mrs. Stuart 'Glen Elm, Stirling, June 28, 1877. ' My story is soon told. I stayed with Mr. Wilson till ist May. Then he got so thoroughly well that I saw I was no longer a necessity, and struck my tent accordingly. I was a little tired, as the work was not light, and I was glad to get a chance and go knapsacking with Professor Geikie for a little. A fortnight's mission in Kirkcaldy followed, and then a week at the General Assem bly. Since then I have been studying at home with an occasional flight into evangelism. ' My future as usual is all in the clouds. Everything is as dark as ever — or shall I say as bright as ever ? Faith-colour would be the best word, only I am not quite assured enough to use it.' In June he went north to address a meeting of the Pitlochrie Young Men's Association. There was a cricket-match in one of the Bonskeid parks, in which he took part, and when it was over and the visitors gone, four of us were left together to spend the even ing, which closed in dark and rainy. With his usual resource Drummond invented a game for us. ' They play it in America,' he said, ' with bowie-knives. Four men are locked into a dark room, each in a corner, and the survivor wins. We'll do without the knives ; the door and the shutters shall be shut, each of us will stand in a corner, and the first who gets on another man's back will be the winner.' It was, I think, the most exciting game I ever played. Nobody stirred from his corner for twenty minutes. Then I heard a scuffle between two of the others, felt my way to fling myself on both of them, when Drummond pounced on ^T. 25] BACK TO COLLEGE 125 me, and we all rolled in a heap, he of course on the top — as he always was. In July he went for a tour in Norway with Robert Barbour, to whom he afterwards sent this letter, nota ble at least for its charming definition of a holiday: — 'Glen Elm Lodge, Stirling, Aug. 21, 1877. "My programme since coming from Norway has been very simple and very happy. I have scarcely stirred from my den. I have studied some, and read crowds of, books. The Ring and the Book I have gone through with increasing interest, and Hutton's Essays have filled me with admiration for everybody except myself. I have just got Shairp's new book, which I think will dehght you, if you have not seen it. The Poetic Interpretation of Nature, my only other novelties being Puls- ford's new volume of sermons and a book by Enigmas of Life's brother, A Layman's Legacy, which is only mediocre. Norway did me a world of good ; it was a clear month out of reading, out of thinking, out of planning for the future, out of responsibility for others. Not a shred of those things followed me ; I forgot them all and I think this is the true holiday — to be one's simplest self, forget the past, and ignore the future. This is fearfully heathenish, and I sometimes had my misgivings, but I think now it is right. I never came back to work, to books, to Christianity, I might almost say, with such a spring ; the world seemed new born. The first sermon I heard was heaven opened ; preaching myself was inspiration. I should like to have your version when you write; or you can write a treatise if you like " On the Philosophy of Holidays," which is a subject 126 HENRY DRUMMOND C'877 quite worth thinking about, seeing that most men in our line give at least one-twelfth of their year to it. ' I went in to the Commission ten days ago, mainly to recover my ecclesiastical vocabulary. I had really forgotten all the more important words, also in theology, from pure disuse. . . . ' I am a missionary again — sad relapse from an assistant's airy height. A handful of colliers, in a place near Polmont, were needing shepherding, and I go down every Sabbath to preach twice to them. It is most delightful work, and I would not exchange it for anywhere.' In spite of these bright intervals of holiday and work, Drummond, still uncertain of his future, was not happy. He afterwards called ^ this year ' the most mis erable time of his life, not seeing what definite work he could do to earn his bread, and yet get time to preach. When he came from Norway he went to New College to see in the Calendar what subjects were required for examination for license, though he did not want to be licensed. He had been blamed (he says), as if he had given up the ministry, but he has never been a minister, nor wanted to be. At col lege he found some numbers of Nature that had been accumulating for him, and then all his scientific studies came back upon him. But he saw no use for his Natures now that his college career was at an end ; and as he went down the Mound he gave them to an engine-driver, saying they were some journals he might find interesting. In a day or two he noticed the death of Mr. Keddie (lecturer on Natural Science in the iTo Professor Simpson, with whom he had a long talk about his career a few months before his death. ^T. 26] BACK TO COLLEGE 127 Free Church College, Glasgow), and wrote to Principal Douglas to ask if it was any use his applying for the lectureship. Dr. Douglas encouraged him. He got a very commendatory testimonial from Professor Archi bald Geikie, as well as some others, but he thinks Geikie's got him the place.' On September 17th the General Assembly's College Committee appointed him to the lectureship for one session, and so he found the work that ultimately formed the profession and settled post after which he had been groping for two years. During these years of uncertainty and painful wait ing for the issue of his life, Drummond had been much sustained by studying the teaching of the Bible upon the Will of God. He had put the result in three ser mons which he preached from the Barclay pulpit, and which now form the last of his volume. The Ideal Life, ' What is God's Will ? ' ' The Relation of the Will of God to Sanctification,' and ' How to know the Will of God.' But he has summarised the knowledge which the study and experience of three years of waiting brought him, in eight maxims, which he inscribed upon the fly-leaf of his Bible. To FIND OUT God's Will I. Pray. 2. Think. 3. Talk to wise people, but do not regard their decision as final. 4. Beware of the bias of your own will, but do not be too much afraid of it (God never unnecessarily thwarts a man's nature and likings, and it is a mistake to think that His will is in the line of the disa greeable). 5. Meantime do the next thing (for doing God's 128 HENRY DRUMMOND [1878 will in small things is the best preparation for know ing it in great things). 6. When decision and action are necessary, go ahead. 7. Never reconsider the decision when it is finally acted upon ; and 8. You will probably not find out till afterwards, perhaps long afterwards, that you have been led at all. CHAPTER VI SCIENCE AND RELIGION. 1 877-1 883 The presence in a divinity hall of a lectureship on Natural Science is a phenomenon which requires some explanation. In the case of the Free Church of Scot land it was not due, as has sometimes been supposed, to the Roman policy of qualifying so inevitable an influence as modern science by straining it through a theological filter; but it arose very reasonably out of the condition of the Scottish universities in 1843, when the Free Church separated from the State. At that time the Arts chairs in the universities were still under tests, and the Free Church felt herself obliged to supply for her students not only a theologi cal curriculum, but a full Arts one as well. New Col lege, Edinburgh, at first included professorships or lectureships in Classics, Mathematics, and Philosophy, and these continued till the university tests were abolished.^ But in addition a chair of Natural Science was founded, at the instigation of Sir David Brewster, Hugh Miller, and others, who had strong feelings of the need of it in training young men for the ministry.^ These feelings were due to the healthy opinion that Natural Science should be a factor in the Arts cur riculum, in which nevertheless no Scottish university save that of Aberdeen had yet placed it. Other mem- 1 Two of the New College Professors, Macdougall and Campbell Fraser, after wards became the University Professors of Moral Philosophy and Logic. * See a speech by Principal Rainy in the General Assembly of 1884. K 129 I30 HENRY DRUMMOND [1878 bers of the Church, too, felt that science would so largely enter into Christian apologetics, and into the materials for preaching, as to justify a separate class for its treatment. Consequently, when the other Arts chairs in New College came to an end, that of Natural Science was continued, first under Dr. Fleming, then under Dr. Duns ; and a lectureship was established in the second Free Church College at Glasgow. The latter was held till 1877 by Mr. Keddie, F.R.S.E., and on his death, as we have seen, Henry Drummond se cured the temporary appointment for session 1877-78. The students in Glasgow College varied from sev enty to one hundred. Drummond lectured to the First Year, from twelve to twenty-four in number. He had no lines prescribed to him and chose to instruct the students in the rudiments of geology and botany and in the general methods of modern science.^ The sal ary was ;^ 1 50 a year, the lectures four a week from the beginning of November to the end of March. Their preparation occupied the whole of his time, and I find in existence no letters from him during this session and no record of other work. The following was written when the session closed : — 'Glen Elm Lodge, Stirling, April 20, 1878. ' ... I am in the statu quo. Session ended well. We wound up with four days' geologising in Arran, and had a glorious time. Eleven men mustered, the cream of the class, and we ham mered the Island almost to bits — nothing left but the hotel and a ledge of rock to smoke on ! ' In May he had ten days more geologising, this time among the Cairngorms and with Professor Geikie. ^ See further, p. 268. ¦«T. 26] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 131 In the end of the month he returned to Glasgow, to attend the meetings of the General Assembly, the first for many years held outside Edinburgh. The most important business before this Assembly was the con sideration of the 'relevancy' of the charge made against Professor Robertson Smith before the Pres bytery of Aberdeen, of contravening by his articles in the Encyclopcedia Britannica the doctrine of inspira tion in the Westminster Confession of Faith. The question was narrowed to the Professor's statement of the non-Mosaic authorship of Deuteronomy. A mo tion by Sir Henry Moncrieff that such a statement would, if proved, contravene the Confession, was car ried by a small majority over one by Principal Rainy, that the charge was not relevant ; and the case was sent back for proof to the Presbytery of Aberdeen. But the moral victory was felt to lie with the Profess or's opinions, and as it turned out he was acquitted by the Presbytery and, on a narrow majority of three, by a subsequent Assembly.^ At this stage of the famous trial Drummond's own mind was not very clear, but he was evidently impressed by the speeches for the defence. 'Assembly Hall, Saturday [first Saturday of June], 1878. 'My dear Mother, — . . . The Smith and Dods cases are very well over, and every one is thankful for the peace of the end. [Alas, it was not the end!] The speaking of Smith, Rainy, and others has been extraordinary, and has made the Assem bly very profitable. Last night I spent at an evangelistic meeting in Grove Street with Willie Ferguson and Mac Gill. I was with the same party on Wednesday morning, having an open- 1 1880. See p. 141. 132 henry drummond [1878 air meeting in a foundry during the breakfast hour ; so I have not been altogether useless.' By this Assembly Drummond was appointed to another session of the lectureship; but the summer was free, and, eager for some religious work, he ac cepted an invitation to take charge of the Free Church of Scotland's station at Malta, in the absence of the chaplain, the Rev. Mr. Wisely. The following letters are to his friends Ross and Barbour : — 'Valletta, Malta, July 4, 1878. 'My DEAR Ross, — This is the day of your ordination, and I am not unmindful of you. My thoughts are Dundeewards, and if good wishes can do you any good in your new work you have them in abundance from this far-off land. ... I am not going to bother you with much of this tissue- paper caligraphy, as I have little to say yet about Malta that would interest you. Besides, with the thermometer at 90° in the shade letter-writing is far from being a luxury, especially as I have to sally forth on a mosquito hunt between every second sentence. I had a splendid tour here. It began with a peep at the Paris Exhibition, then with a run through Italy and Sardinia, and wound up with a voyage to Africa, where I stayed a week. ' I have only been three days here. It is a splendid place. If the heat allow it, I am sure I shall enjoy the work greatly. The chief items are three services on Sundays, one or two in the camps through the week, and hospital visitation. It will be pretty hard, but I am only to have two months of it. . . . ^T. 27] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 133 ' Now do write me a line and tell me " wie es sieht in der Welt aus," to quote your famous Tiibingen phrase. I hope you have had a good start.' 'Rev. Mr. Wisely's, Valletta, Malta, July 4, 1878. ' LiEBER Robert, — This time last year we were sing ing chorales on the North Sea. You no doubt are singing them still in the North of Scotland. I am killing mosquitoes in Malta. ' . . . Malta seems a most interesting place, thoroughly civilised, and inhabited by every nation on earth. There is a magnificently equipped English library, where I spend the morning before work begins, and there are museums when one is tired of the endless museum of the streets. I came here via Paris, Marseilles, Italy, Sardinia, and Africa. In Africa I spent a week. My headquarters were Tunis, the second largest city in Africa. The change to Oriental life was most interesting, in fact, Tunis is the most interesting place I have ever seen. Arabs, deserts, palms, and camels are strange sights to a European, and I would recommend every one who comes near the Medi terranean to give a few days to North Africa. I was all alone, and it is out of the tourists' track, so sometimes I felt rather eerie. One day I spent among the ruins of ancient Carthage — profoundly interesting. . . . Yours most sin cerely, Henry Drummond. ' P.S. Paul was three months here ! ' 'Glen Elm Lodge, Stirling, Sept. 17, 1878. ' Lieber Robert, — . . . I came home on Friday. The chief event on the way was a sunrise from J 34 HENRY DRUMMOND [1878-79 Etna. Etna is only three thousand feet lower than Mt. Blanc, so the chmb was glorious and the view from the crater a miracle of grandeur. After Sicily, I did Naples, Pompeii, Herculaneum, Vesuvius, the Island of Capri, Pozzuoli; then Rome, Florence, Milan, the Italian Lakes, and home over the St. Gotthard Pass with Switzer land ; thence by Basle, Paris, and Calais.' In September Drummond settled down again in Glasgow. He was happy in his lectureship, and very happy in his colleagues, with whom he was to work for nineteen years on terms of the closest affection and confidence. Principal Douglas, who was Pro fessor of Hebrew, Professor T. M. Lindsay, who had the Church History Chair, Professor James Candlish, who taught Systematic and Pastoral Theology, and Professor A. B. Bruce, who had the Chairs of Apolo getics and the New Testament. Drummond's few lectures gave him leisure for other work, and he had not forgotten his calling as an evangelist. ' I want,' he had written in April of this year, ' a quiet mission somewhere, entry immediate and self-contained.' He had attached himself to Renfield Free Church, under the ministry of Dr. Marcus Dods, and was ordained as an elder. The congregation had recently adopted a mission station in Possilpark, and in April Dr. Dods had offered the charge of it to Drummond, who en tered upon his duties when he returned from Malta. Possilpark is a northern suburb of Glasgow. In 1878 its population was said to be about six thousand, mostly working-class families settled in recently built houses. They were nearly all well-to-do people, but in the autumn of 1878 the City of Glasgow Bank failed and cast hundreds of them out of work. It was a terrible vEt. 27] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 1 35 winter; the social distress was aggravated by very severe cold, and city missionaries, not in Glasgow only but all over Scotland, passed through experiences which they can never forget. The ordinary labours of charity were increased tenfold ; investigations had to be made into hundreds of new cases, and, owing to the number of honest families thrown into a distress to which they were absolutely new, the work required extraordinary patience and tact. But the rewards were great. The missionaries came into personal re lation with a large number of lives they would proba bly never have touched, and obtained abundant proofs of the courage and honesty of the mass of Scottish working-men. One missionary, who was given ^40 for distribution in his district, found that the most of it would be accepted only in the form of loans, and had not less than £22^ repaid to him when work grew better in the course of the following year. To Robert W. Barbour 'September 17, 1878. ? On Sunday I was " introduced " to my new flock in Glasgow by Dods, and I begin work there at once. I have a splendid prospect for the winter — a district of six thousand people, none of them lapsed as yet, no opposition, and many wiUing, helping hands.' To Mr. and Mrs. Stuart ' Possilpark, Glasgow, Nov. 22, 1878. ». . . In the first place I have my college lectures, which is enough for any man. Secondly, I have now a church. On Sabbath I preach twice, 136 HENRY DRUMMOND [1878-79 attend schools and classes. On Mondays I look after a bank ; on Tuesdays I give a popular lect ure. On Wednesdays a mothers' meeting m the afternoon, a lecture to children at seven, the con gregational prayer-meeting at eight. The other two nights I visit the poor and the sick, or hold meetings elsewhere. I am just starting^ now, ten miles, for a meeting to-night. This is my programme every week. In addition to all this, I have had the horror of my examination for license hanging over me from the hour I landed from Malta.' 'Possilpark, March 21, 1879. ' ... So you have been to America and seen Moody. For myself I have had a long, quiet, busy winter. My little church gets on bravely, though it has been a dreadful winter in Glasgow. Thousands have been really starving all winter, and out here I have had to feed scores of families with the meat that perisheth, and a scant seasoning only of the other. We are past the worst now, I hope, though the snow is still thick on the ground. ' Although I have a church, I am not a minister yet. Mrs. Grundy, I am glad to say, has not prevailed. I am not ordained, nor have I any desire to be, or prospect of being. My old desires and aims are there still, unchanged. I have taken what we call license, and which is often mistaken for ordi nation, but it is little more than a college certifi cate of a theological education. And my church is a mere appendage to my college work to fill up spare interest and time. By and by I give it up, and plunge into evangelism. I shall retain my college work — it will be corrective without being absorbing. I have had several calls this winter «T. 28] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 137 to be ordained to churches in different places, but have refused them all on this secret ground. No one, however, can understand me. I am looked upon as "queer." You wiU understand, however, that I have not bowed down and worshipped Mrs. G. If you ever write Mr. Moody, I wish you would tell him that. ^ He, too, thinks I have fallen. ' I am going to take my class down to the Island of Arran for some days' geologising. . . .' 'Possilpark, Glasgow, July 25, 1879. ' . . . You wrote me on the eve of your departure to America. It is now my turn. I start next Thurs day. I am to be away three months — all the time in the Far West. I am going with Professor Geikie, whom you know. We are to geologise in the Rocky Mountains. I suppose we shall be camped out all the time, shooting, fishing, and hammering, so we shall see nothing of the States. I mean, of course, to make a great effort to run off for a day or two with D. L. M.,^ but I shall have to reserve civilised America for a future occasion. ' Now that I have introduced myself, I must recall events since I wrote last. My life has been very humdrum, toiling away in a mission district since college closed last March. My college appoint ment was made permanent by my election to the Chair ^ last Assembly, so that there is no fear of my being a settled minister. I shall lecture five months and be a vagrant, or a city, missionary during the other seven. It is an odd life, but it suits me.' iMr. Moody. 2 Lectureship. 138 HENRY DRUMMOND [1879-81 On the 31st of July he sailed for America. The account of his geological expedition to the Rocky Mountains with Professor Geikie may be postponed to a separate chapter. On his return from the Rockies, Drummond found himself at Boston, and in a curious dilemma. He had five days before he sailed for home. He was in the city of Lowell and Longfellow, Bryant, Emerson, Channing, Agassiz, and Holmes; and he had an in vitation to meet Longfellow and Holmes at dinner. ' Longfellow I had learned to love from my youth up ; Holmes, ever since the mystery of the three Johns and the three Toms caught my school-boy fancy years ago, has been to me a mouth and wisdom. And naturally the attraction of these names was a powerful inducement to me to spend my last days in quiet worship at shrines so revered and beloved. But some eight hundred miles off, away by Lake Erie, were two men who were more to me than philosopher or poet, and it only required a moment's thought to convince me that for me, at least, a visit to America would be much more than incomplete without a visit to Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey. It was hard, I must say, to give up Longfellow, but I am one of those who think that the world is not dying for poets so much as for preachers. I set off at once. . . . Neither of the men seemed the least changed. There they were before me, the same men : Mr. Sankey down to the faultless set of his black necktie, Mr. Moody to the chronic crush of his collar. ... I can scarcely say I have much to record that would be in itself news. For my own part I am glad of this. We do not want anything Mr. 28-30] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 139 new in revivals. We want always the old factors — the living Spirit of God, the living Word of God, the old Gospel. We want crowds coming to hear — crowds made up of the old elements; per ishing men and women finding their way to prayer-meeting, Bible reading, and inquiry room. These were all to be seen in Cleveland. It was the same as in England and Scotland. I was especially pleased to find that it was the same as regards quietness. I had expected to find revival work in America more exciting; but, although a deep work was beginning, everything was calm. There was movement, but no agitation ; there was power in the meetings, but no frenzy. And the secret of that probably lay here, that in the speaker himself there was earnestness, but no bigotry, and enthusiasm, but no superstition.' ^ No more signal proof could we have both of Drum mond's enthusiasm for the Gospel and of his loyalty to old friends. Probably never in all his life did he feel a greater wrench than this from Boston and the chance of meeting the two poets ; probably never greater happiness than when he burst in — uninvited, unannounced — upon the astonished evangelists at Cleveland. And yet, — and yet, — O Henry, why didn't you dine with Longfellow and Holmes ? From America Drummond returned to his third winter as lecturer on Natural Science, and as mission ary in Possilpark. The years '80 and '81 passed away in this double work, without incident and almost with out the break of a single holiday. The case of Professor Robertson Smith was pro ceeding from one church court to another, with vary- 1 From a letter to I'he Christian, November, 1879. 140 HENRY DRUMMOND [1880-81 ing and ambiguous fortunes. No one knew how it would end ; and indeed comparatively few were certain on which side, at the end, they themselves would be found. The truth is, it was not so much the trial of one man which was proceeding, nor even the trial of one set of opinions, as the education of the whole Church in face of the facts which Biblical criticism had recently presented to her. The Great Mission of 1873-72 had quickened, as we have seen, the practical use of the Bible, and the Church was studying her sacred books in the congregation and in the Bible class, with a freshness and a thoroughness hardly seen before. But now came the necessary complement to all that, in the critical study of the Scriptures; and by those who believe in God's providence of His Church, it has always been a matter of praise that the revival of the experimental study of the Scriptures in Scotland pre ceded that of the critical. Those who, with Professor Robertson Smith, instigated the latter, were some of the devoutest men in the Church, of whom it is right to instance especially one of Drummond's own col leagues : the late Professor James Candlish, a teacher of undoubted orthodoxy, a most spiritual preacher, a finished scholar, and, in spite of his weak health and a rare modesty, which made him the least aggressive spirit in the movement, a man of courage and the most perfect justice. These men believed that Christ's promise of the Holy Spirit for the education of His Church was being fulfilled, not less in the critical than in the experimental use of the Bible ; they defended criticism on the highest grounds of faith in God and loyalty to Christ. But as in every other discipline of the Church in new truth, so in this, pain and restless ness prevailed. Within, as without, the church courts discussion ran high and hot for three years. The old ^T. 29-30] SCIENCE AND RELIGION I4I parties were broken up, and even groups of friends and fellow-workers divided sharply under the new tests. At first Drummond could not but share the general uncertainty. Many of his dearest friends and leaders were opposed to Professor Smith's views ; he himself was not equipped with the knowledge of the original languages of the Bible which could have enabled him to form conclusions of his own. And in the letter he wrote from the Glasgow Assembly, we have seen that he looked for peace arising out of some compromise. But Drummond's scientific training had given him a sense for facts, an appreciation of evidence ; while his strong and cheerful faith in God saved him from the confusion into which so complete a revolution in his views of the methods of inspiration must otherwise have cast him. The Assembly of 1880 decided by a narrow majority in Professor Smith's favour, and Drummond rejoiced at the decision. When new arti cles by the professor appeared in the Encyclopcedia Britannica, and led the Assembly's Commission of the following October to suspend him once more from his chair, Drummond refused to be satisfied with a verdict which, while it saved the Church from a pro nouncement against the new views, prepared to sac rifice, for the peace of the Church, their foremost representative; and when it became apparent, next spring, that the General Assembly would complete the work of the Commission, and remove Professor Smith from his chair, Drummond wrote in great sorrow : ^ — ' We are all much dejected here by the suicidal pol icy of the majority in their recent determination to lynch Smith. It will be a very serious blow to the Church, and I fear nothing can avert it now.' 1 Glasgow, May 21, 1881. 142 HENRY DRUMMOND [1881-82 He was right. Professor Robertson Smith was sac rificed ; but whatever may have been the motives of the leaders of the majority, — whether the general peace of the Church, or the more subtle desire to save the Church, by his suspension, from a condemnation of the critical views, — the latter result was secured, and the Church was allowed to find room for methods of research and for views of inspiration more free from the errors of tradition, and more true to the facts of Scripture itself. With these new views, Drummond, though he took no share in developing them, was henceforth in hearty sympathy. His religious teach ing was as much based upon the Bible as it had ever been ; but in his own practical use of the Bible he exercised a new discrimination, and he often said that the critical movement had removed very many difliculties in the Old Testament which once puzzled him, and had set him free for the fuller apprecia tion of its divine contents. Several years afterwards, speaking of the contest of Science and Religion, he is reported to have said : — ' The contest is dying out. The new view of the Bible has rendered further apologetics almost superfluous. I have endeavoured to show that in my articles on Creation.^ No one now expects science from the Bible. The literary form of Genesis precludes the idea that it is science. You might as well contrast Paradise Lost with geology as the Book of Genesis. Mr. Huxley might have been better employed than in laying that poor old ghost. The more modern views of the inspiration of the Bible have destroyed the stock-in-trade of the platform infidel. Such 1 See below, chap. x. ^T. 30] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 1 43 men are constructing difficulties which do not exist, and they fight as those that beat the air.' ^ Drummond once asked me to help in the prepara tion of a popular tract on the Higher Criticism. A rhetorical Bishop, a defender of the Mosaic origin of the Pentateuch, had asked what the critics would answer when in the next world Moses met them with the challenge, ' How dared you say that I did not write the Pentateuch ? ' I pointed out that, consider ing the absence of all claims of Mosaic authorship in the Pentateuch itself, it was equally reasonable to put the question in the very opposite form ; and Drum mond's proposal was to write the tract in the form of a dream by the same Bishop, as though, being con veyed to heaven and meeting Moses, Moses should ask him, ' How dared you say that I did write the Pentateuch ? ' But among all the influences which were bearing on Drummond during these years, the strongest came through his intercourse with Dr. Marcus Dods. In the Possilpark Mission Dr. Dods was his ecclesiastical superior, and they shared work in those practical movements for which the religious life of Glasgow is famous; while, in Dr. Dods' knowledge of litera ture and of the philosophical tendencies of our time, the younger man found numerous opportunities of repairing the defects in his own education. Years afterwards Drummond said : ' I can claim Dr. Dods, not only as a friend and elder brother, but as the greatest influence in many directions that has ever come across my life ; and that if I have done anything in my poor way to help anybody else, it has been 1 From ' A Talk with Professor Drummond,' by Raymond Blathwayt, in Great Thoughts, I think, about 1890. 144 HENRY DRUMMOND [1881-82 largely owing to what he has done, and mainly by his own grand character, to help me.' Among the ' many directions ' in which this influence told were those of Biblical criticism and the application of the hypothesis of evolution to the interpretation of religion. Most of the members of Drummond's Club had married by 1881, and the experiment was tried of ask ing the wives to the annual reunion. This is the let ter that one of them got from Drummond shortly afterwards. To Mrs. Robert W. Barbour ' Possilpark, Glasgow, May 21st, 1881. ' . . . I am so glad you enjoyed Moffat. I must confess I was afraid the ladies would find us a very queer set of beings. We are so accustomed to one another, that when we get together we drop all the graver responsibilities, and become school boys once more. This, of course, is a great and a natural joy to us, but I fancy you must often have been bewildered at us. Moffat reminded me even of an earlier stage than the school-boy this year. You know the curious old memory of "going thro' a wood when we were children," that was what Moffat was to me : young, fresh, and buoyant, " children going thro' a wood " ; yet I trust we will never forget this memory, nor lose this spirit. . . .' Early in 1882 Messrs. Moody and Sankey began a new mission in Scotland, passed in the late summer into Wales and the southwest of England, preached in Paris for the most of October, and returned for the winter to the cities they had already visited in Eng land and Ireland, and to a number of others in addi tion. The mission was not so powerful as that of ^T. 3o] science AND RELIGION 1 45 eight years before, but a good deal of real work was done. To Robert W. Barbour^ 'Possilpark, Glasgow, March 13, 1882. ' Dear Robert, — I wish you could spend a few days in the Moody work. Stalker is coming on Wednesday. The movement amongst men in the East End has been the main feature, and I have had some very wonderful cases. Brown and Ewing are both over head and ears in it ; and for the workers at least, it is quite as good as the last revival. At the same time, the movement has not seized the city as it did before, and the scarcity of ministers at the meetings is marked. I have got a few students to come to the inquiry room, but the attitude of the college as a whole is largely one of simple toleration. 'I am afraid it will be impossible for me to come up in April. I expect Moody in my own parish, where I have long been expecting to see some work. I must say I believe in personal dealing more and more every day, and in the inadequacy of mere preaching. The inquiry room this time, as before, brings its terrible revelation of the vast multitude of unregenerate church members. I have dealt with several men of position who knew the letter of Scripture as they knew their own names, but who had no more idea of Free Grace and a Personal Christ than a Hottentot.' 'Possilpark, Glasgow, June 8th, 1882. * Dear Robert, — ... I now see things a little clearer, but unfortunately I do not see Cults. Moody, too, 1 Then Free Church minister at Cults. L 146 HENRY DRUMMOND [1882 has made me promise to " hitch on to him," as he calls it, for the summer, so that my arrange ments are very much taken out of my own hands. My only reserve is a few weeks in July, which I spend with Dods somewhere on the Continent. ' I had Moody in my church last Sabbath — one of the most wonderful meetings I ever saw. A crowd of my own members stood up at the close and asked to be prayed for, and a number of other inquirers waited to the second meeting. I have been following up all week with nightly meetings. ' On Tuesday night there was a special meeting for reformed drunkards in the City Hall. They were admitted by special ticket, received on formal application and after cross-examination. Over 800 sat down to tea, of all ages and ranks. Mr. Moody presided, and a number afterwards gave their testimony : all was most thrilling and pathetic. 'Altogether the work has taken a powerful hold, and immense numbers have been reached. I have given up my church.' The Possilpark Mission, in which Drummond had been working hard for four years, had prospered. There were nearly three hundred communicants, a large Sabbath-school, a Young Men's Christian Associ ation, and various other agencies. A church had been built, costing nearly ;^4ooo, and it was free of debt. The General Assembly of 1882 raised the mission to the status of a full charge, and Drummond resigned the missionaryship in order that an ordained minister might be appointed. This set him free to work with Mr. Moody through the rest of the summer, and in October he came back to his college lectures. ^T. 30] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 1 47 To Mrs. Stuart 'Possilpark, Glasgow, December 20th, 1882. ' Of myself I have little to report. I am growing older and, as you know, wickeder. I was with Moody all summer in Scotland, Wales, and Eng land. I have been very busy, and have not had a holiday for a year and a half. I have also been writing a book, now in the press. When I add that I am not married yet, and as far away from it as ever, my year's autobiography is ended. ' I hope you will see something of Moody when he is in your neighbourhood in the early year. My admiration of him has increased a hundredfold. I had no idea before of the moral size of the man, and I think very few know what he really is.' A month before his death Drummond said to one of his doctors, ' Moody was the biggest human I ever met.' During the winter he worked hard at the book, re writing most of it, and joined Moody again for a little when the session was over. To Mrs. Stuart 'Possilpark, Glasgow, March 31st, 1883. ' . . . The book will not be ready for two or three weeks yet. I am going to Liverpool next week to work for a short time with Moody. . . . Moody has asked me to go to America with him, but I do not think I shall be tempted. From your letter I see you are afraid my book will not be orthodox, but I hope you will not find this to be the case. I am getting sounder and sounder ! ' 148 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 The book was the one which made him famous. Natural Law in the Spiritual World. It was not his greatest work. Its main argument rests upon a couple of unproved, and, in the opinion of many, impossible assumptions. And Drummond himself became dis contented with it. But because it made him famous, and is still, with many, the chief cause of his reputa tion ; because of the enormous circulation it achieved, the multitudes it helped, the wild hopes it raised, and the bitter controversy, — it is right that we should form some clear idea of how this book began, and what it aimed at effecting. Drummond has himself described its origin. ' For four years,' as he says in his Preface, he had ' to address regularly two very different audiences on two very different themes. On week days I have lectured to a class of students on the Natural Sciences, and on Sundays to an audience consisting for the most part of working-men, on subjects of a moral and religious character. I cannot say that this collocation ever appeared as a difficulty to myself, but to certain of my friends it was more than a problem. It was solved to me, however, at first by what then seemed the necessi ties of the case — I must keep the two depart ments entirely by themselves. They lay at opposite poles of thought ; and for a time I suc ceeded in keeping the Science and the Religion shut off from one another in two separate com partments of my mind. But gradually the wall of partition showed symptoms of giving way. The two fountains of knowledge also slowly began to overflow, and finally their waters met and mingled. The great change was in the compart- ^T. 31] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 149 ment which held the Religion. It was not that the well there was dried; still less that the fer menting waters were washed away by the flood of science. The actual contents remained the same. But the crystals of former doctrine were dissolved ; and as they precipitated themselves once more in definite forms, I observed that the Crystalline System was also changed. New channels also for outward expression opened, and some of the old closed up ; and I found the truth running out to my audience on the Sundays by the week-day outlets. In other words, the subject-matter of Religion had taken on the method of expression of Science, and I discovered myself enunciating Spiritual Law in the exact terms of Biology and Physics.' The simple style of this paragraph masks a consid erable vagueness of meaning, and one desires some more explicit description of the state of his Science and his Religion when he 'kept them shut off from one another in two separate compartments of his mind.' He cannot have intended this to be taken literally. For, since coming to Glasgow, Drummond's eyes had been opened to the great signs of evolution within Scripture^ itself. And, on the other side, he was equally aware how Natural Science corroborates the Scriptural assumption that behind the visible uni verse there is a creative mind. Although he had judged Darwin's own teaching to be defective on this point,^ he thankfully acknowledged that Science in general bore to it unmistakable and even lavish witness. To his students he emphasised these mutual contribu- 1 We shall get his opinion on this later on. 2 See above, p. 47. I50 HENRY DRUMMOND [1877-83 tions of Religion and Science, and on the last day of 1878 he wrote to one who inquired of him what Science had done to corroborate the teaching of Script ure upon the origin of life, as follows : — To Hugh Barbour ' I think it is quite clear that Science has gone as far as she ever will on her side of the border. And she has gone a wonderful length — towards us, as I am convinced. The old cry, " How far Science has wandered away from God (Creator)," will soon be entirely obsolete ; and " How near Science has come to God " will be the watchword of the most thoughtful and far-seeing. Instance the argument of the "Unseen Universe" in toto; instance Tyndall's article in the November number of the Nineteenth Century ; instance a hundred passages in Huxley's Lay Sermons and many other places. 'My Huxley is in Glasgow, or I would send you reference to a quotation which would surprise you if you have never seen it.'^ He is describing the development of an ovum. He watches the process through a powerful microscope. "Strange possibilities lie dormant in that semi-fluid globe. Let a moderate supply of warmth reach its watery cradle, and the plastic matter undergoes changes so rapid, and yet so steady and purposelike in their succession, that we can only compare them to those operated by a skilled operator on a form less lump of clay." He sees, as it were, "a skilled modeller" shaping the plastic mass with a trowel. He sees "as if a delicate finger traced out the line ^ The reference is to Lay Sermons. ^t. 26-31] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 15I to be occupied by the spinal column, and moulded the contour of the body, pinching up the head at one end, the tail at the other, and fashioning flank and limb into due salamandrine proportions in so artistic a way that, after watching the process hour by hour, one is almost involuntarily possessed by the notion that some more subtle aid to vision than an achromatic would show the hidden artist with his plan before him, striving with skilful manipulation to perfect his work."^ The above are Huxley's own words. That is to say that the first biologist in Europe (according to Vir- chow) when he comes to describe the develop ment of life can only do so in Terms of Creation. This, of course, was just what we might have ex pected, but I find it very remarkable that our anticipation should have been so literally fulfilled and by such authority. The materialists have never got credit for this most advanced stand point, and I think it cannot be too widely ex plained. Your desire evidently is to state all that Science can with reference to the evolution of living things. I do not see that they could go one step further than Huxley in the passage referred to; for the next step would be God.' Drummond, therefore, was never troubled by any fears that Science would contradict the fundamental postulates of the Bible on the field of the natural uni verse on which Science worked; and he already rec ognised, within the historical origins of the Christian religion, the same method of evolution at work as Science had recently revealed in the growth of physical 1 In Drummond's letter the quotation, written from memory, is not given, of course, so fully or accurately. 1^2 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 life. What, then, did he mean by saying that he 'kept Relio-ion and Science shut off from one another in two different compartments of his mind'? In these words he was speaking of religion as the experience of the individual — conversion, regeneration, the growth of character, the assurance of immortality — the phenom ena, in short, with which he himself had been practi cally busied in hundreds of lives during the last ten years. This set of facts, comprising the religious life of the individual, was what he had kept in one com partment of his mind, while the other was filled with the facts of physical life. By 'keeping them apart,' he did not, of course, mean that the religious facts had not their laws, as the physical had theirs, for Drum mond had never treated religion in the manner of cer tain preachers, as if it were utterly without the great laws of life, a moral-less magic of arbitrary formulas, expedients, and even dodges. But he meant that the laws which are visible in the phenomena of the indi vidual's experience of religion were at first felt by him to be different from, and without the slightest resem blance or relevance to, the laws which are visible in the phenomena of physical life. But a teacher who teaches in parallel lines two different subjects of human knowledge cannot help, sooner or later, stating the one in terms of the other; and this, of course, happened in Drummond's case the more easily that teachers of religion had from the very first perceived analogies or resemblances between spiritual and physical phenom ena, and that some of the greatest of them had even conceived of Nature as therefore sacramental — the de signed mirror or symbol of religious truth. No one, however, had proposed as yet to define these compari sons between the two sets of laws in more stringent terms than those of analogy and sacrament. Drum- /Et. 31] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 153 mond went farther, and with great boldness — whether rightly or wrongly we shall inquire afterwards — as serted the two sets of laws to be identical. Perhaps this is the best place at which to introduce a very curious story concerning a similar suggestion made by Drummond's grandfather, William Drum mond, who died in 1824. It is told by Henry's brother-in-law, the Rev. Thomas Crerar : ' I was with Henry after his father's death ^ in Glenelm, when we found among his father's papers a note-book of his father, the old William Drummond, in which he had some reflections on religious matters. I think the old man wrote, after noting some facts in the Spiritual and the Natural Life : " Would it not be strange if it turned out that the laws of Nature and of the Spirit ual World were the same ? " and Henry remarked to me : " How strange ! That is just my idea as ex pressed in Natural Law. Can there be an inherited idea as well as an inherited tendency ? " — or words to that effect.' Drummond, then, asserted that the laws governing both spheres were identical. But he insisted that he arrived at this position by the inductive method; that first of all he awoke to the actual presence of certain natural laws in one department after another of the spiritual life — regeneration, growth, degeneration, and so forth. This he emphasised again and again. He had not first supposed his theory, and then tried if the facts would fit it; but he had first encountered the facts, gradually recognised their significance, and then deduced his general principle from them. His method, in short, had been the a posteriori. But having thus reached his conclusions, he had found for them the corroboration of an a priori argument in the 1 January I, 1888. 154 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 scientific principle of Continuity. Scientific writers had recently emphasised the Continuity of Law in the Physical Universe. Was it not probable, Drummond asked, that this continuity should extend still farther, and cover the spiritual world as well? Drummond thought that the affirmative reply to such a question was obvious. It is not within the province of a biographer to ex pound in detail, still less to criticise, the writings of the man whose life he is portraying; yet, if for nothing else than to point out the direction in which Drummond — who was far bigger than all his books — grew away from the positions which he so con fidently occupied in the first of them, it is necessary that we should here indicate the two unproved — and most people will think impossible — assumptions by which he reached his famous conclusion of the opera tion of natural law in the spiritual life. In the first place, Drummond's a priori argument from the prin ciple of Continuity was a huge petitio principii. It does not necessarily, nor even probably, follow that because laws have a certain continuity throughout the physical universe they must also prevail in the spiritual experience of man. Drummond maintains, indeed, that the principle of Continuity is so well es tablished that the burden of the disproof of its exten sion to spiritual life remains with those who deny this. Emphatically this is not true. The gulf is so great between matter and mind, the respective contents of the two spheres are so very different, that the burden of proof in the question of a continuity of Law between the two rather lies with him who maintains the affirm ative. Drummond has simply begged the question; and since, as he himself points out, laws are not inde pendent substances, but forms or conditions by which ^T. 31] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 1 55 the actions of forces are invariably governed, the fact that the forces of the spirit life are different from those of the physical life makes the presupposition very strong that, though the Lawgiver be the same, the laws in the two spheres are equally different. And this leads us to his other unproved assump tion ; that, namely, in the inductive portion of his reasoning. In his belief that he had discovered some laws of biology in the religious experience of the indi vidual, Drummond was apparently fascinated by the use of the term life, to describe the phenomena in both departments, without pausing to inquire whether the two kinds of life had anything more than the name in common with each other. Had he entered upon this inquiry, he must have made it obvious (as indeed it afterwards became to his own mind) that spiritual life contained elements, and was realised in conditions, so foreign to physical life, that the identity of the laws governing the phenomena of both might be reasonably regarded as an impossibility. This fun damental objection to his argument has been stated by many of his critics, but by none better than by the author of On Natural Law in the Spiritual World' by 'a Brother of the Natural Man,' who, it is no harm now to state, is the Rev. Professor Denney. He says,^ ' We find that natural life comes from preexisting natural life — according, we must add, to a certain law, a law of necessary physical determination ; and we find that spiritual life comes from preexisting spir itual life — according, we must add again, to another law, a law of free moral determination in correspond ence with the idea of that life; and these two laws are quite different. What is more, till we appreciate the difference, we are not within sight of the spiritual 1 P. 15. 156 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 world. From this point of view, which also takes in the whole complexity of the spiritual facts, we can see the error and irrelevancy of much of Mr. Drummond's preface and introduction.' And, it may be added, it is from this point of view also that we can appreciate the defects of the body of the book : the illustrations of the working of natural laws in several departments of the spiritual life. The want of the volume is the want of regard for the moral character of religious experience. The spiritual life which the various chap ters describe is one perilously near sheer passivity : in its beginnings as independent of responsibility on the part of those who receive it as their physical life is, and in its continuance as destitute of the elements of effort and struggle. Take the beautiful chapter on Growth, one of the most justly admired in the book. It inculcates the advice not to try to grow spiritually, but to leave one's growth, first, to the power of the Spirit, and, second, to the effect of a good environment. And, in support of this advice, it quotes our Lord's call to consider the lilies of the field how they grow : they toil not neither do they spin. But Drummond forgot that in this part of His discourse our Lord was speak ing, not of our spiritual struggles after character, and perfect obedience to the Will of God, but of our physical anxieties and labours for our daily bread. Christ's own spiritual life was full of moral effort, yea, to the pitch of agony; and so it has been with the lives of all the greatest saints. This defect of the book has another as its consequence. Drummond denies that the man who 'by hard work and self-restraint attains to a very high character' is really growing.^ According to him, the unregenerate man is in the same relation to the regenerate as the inorganic in the 1 Twenty-fourth edition, p. 131. /Et. 31] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 157 physical worid is to the organic, as a stone is to a plant. And this leads him to a further assertion, which com pletely ignores the moral identity of the individual be fore and after conversion. ' The plant stretches down to the dead world beneath it, touches its minerals and gases with its mystery of life, and brings them up en nobled to the living sphere. The breath of God, blow ing where it listeth, touches with its mystery of life the dead souls of men, bears them across the bridgeless gulf between the natural and the spiritual, between the spiritually inorganic and the spiritually organic, endows them with its own high qualities, and devel ops within them those new and secret faculties by which those who are born again are said to see the Kingdom of God.' But the man before and after his conversion is the same man, with a continuance of consciousness and will which are certainly absent in the other case. The identity or analogy breaks down at the vital point.^ In short, this omission of all regard for the moral distinctions of the spiritual life is so fun damental, that its effects are seen almost everywhere throughout the book. Drummond himself came to recognise this. Some years afterwards, I think about 1890, he said: ' I would write the book differently if I were to do it again. I should make less rigid applica tion of physical laws, and I should endeavour to be more ethical ; and this I have stated in a new trans lation of the book in Germany.' Yes; but he did not even then see that to introduce those ethical elements which had been so conspicuously absent from his volume would be to destroy its primary argument that natural law still prevailed where those elements predominate, for he immediately added : 1 This is finely put in On ' Natural La-w in the Spiritual World; by ' a Brother of the Natural Man,' p. 35. 1^8 HENRY DRUMMOND [1881-82 ' But it is still clear to me that the same laws govern all worlds.' The introduction, into which these fallacies mainly enter, was not given by Drummond to his Possilpark audiences of working-men, nor indeed was its thesis formulated till after his work in Possilpark was closed. It is a far more welcome task to turn to the great vir tues of the addresses themselves. Their analysis and orderly arrangement of the facts of Christian experi ence ; their emphasis upon the government of the re ligious life by law; their exposure of formalism and insincerity, conscious and unconscious, in the fashion able religion of the day; their revelation of life in Christ ; their enthusiasm ; their powers of practical counsel and of comfort; and their atmosphere of beauty and of peace, — must have made these ad dresses to the hundreds who heard them, as afterwards to the hundreds of thousands whom they reached in the volume, an inspiration and a discipline of inestimable value. But these aspects of the book we may postpone till we come to treat of its wonderful reception by the pubhc; and here need only state that they have an enduring value which not even the fallacies of the in troduction to them can wholly destroy. What Drum mond would have done with the volume had he lived is quite uncertain. But a month or two before his death, when he said that he wished it withdrawn from circulation, a friend answered, ' Remember the reli gious good which it has done, and is still doing, to multitudes who either never read the introduction, or do not concern themselves with the philosophic ques tions it raises.' This friend might have added that the effort of the book to reduce the phenomena of the Christian life to reasonable processes under laws — whether or not these laws were what the volume ^T. 3o] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 1 59 alleges them to be — constitutes of itself a valuable contribution to religion. At the time he gave his ' talks to working-men,' as he called them, Drummond had 'not intended to make a book out of them.' But the editor of the Cler ical World, a London periodical no longer in exist ence, asked him for a contribution. ' I had never published anything before, and it was only after a second appeal that I resuscitated some faded lectures, which once had voices for a local public, but which with other "dried tongues " had been long since packed away in a forgotten drawer. These papers, which are now reprinted almost as they stood in Natural Law, passed through many vicissitudes, as I shall relate, be fore they became a book, but in connection with this reference to their origin I may answer a ques tion. I am asked : Were these papers, or are such papers, even with the addition of viva voce expla nations, not above the people ? I can only say I did not find it so. My conviction, indeed, grows stronger every day that the masses require and deserve the very best work we have. The crime of evangelism is laziness ; and the failure of the average mission church to reach intelligent work ing-men rises from the indolent reiteration of threadbare formulce by teachers, often competent enough, who have not first learned to respect their hearers.' The papers were five in number: 'Degeneration,' which was published on September 28, 1881 ; ' Biogen esis,' on November 30 ; ' Nature abhors a Vacuum,' l6o HENRY DRUMMOND [1882 founded largely on Paul's words. Be not drunk with wine, but be filled with the Spirit (these did not ap pear in the volume) ; and two on ' Semi-Parasitism,' which appeared in 1882. ' Though printed almost verbatim as they now stand, no one, I then thought, seems to have read the papers in their fugitive form. Pres ently the journal which published them died, leaving in my mind a lingering remorse at what share I might have had in its untimely end. To give continuity to the series, and as a title under which to publish them, I had given the editor the phrase " Natural Law in the Spiritual World." At that time I had not thought much as to what this title actually meant. The few laws which formed the theme of the papers certainly seemed common to both the natural and the spiritual spheres ; but it did not occur to me to regard this as a general principle. I mention this to show that the principle came to me through its appli cations, not vice versa. ... I am well aware that many see no such thread binding Nature and Grace. Others not only see no thread, but see no use in one. I can only say that for me there is no alternative but to see it ; that I saw it before I knew what it was, and that if this were taken away much of the solidity of religion would go with it. • Now, a thing that we cannot help seeing must either be really there, or one's vision must have some constitutional defect. To test this I wrote out the rough sketch of the principle which now forms the introduction to Natural Law and sub mitted it to a small club, which met for the dis- ^T. 30] SCIENCE AND RELIGION l6l cussion especially of theological subjects.^ With one dissenting voice, it was unanimously con demned. Some of the criticisms were just and helpful, and others mercilessly severe. One pleasantry I remember as especially discouraging, for its source compelled me to treat it with respect. The essay, said this candid friend, reminded him of a pamphlet he had once picked up, entitled, " Forty Reasons for the Identification of the English People with the Lost Ten Tribes." ' But for two things I should have received this verdict as final, and abandoned my heresies for ever. The first was the one dissenting voice. But for its encouragement at the outset, my book had never been begun, and without its ceaseless assistance afterwards, it would never have been carried through. . . . The second was that I remembered that the membership of the afore said club consisted almost exclusively of men who worked from the philosophical, rather than from the scientific, standpoint. My own point of view being exclusively the latter, I imagined that, in many particulars, we might have been working at cross purposes. . . . ' After this misadventure there remained in my mind the desire to submit the essay, if only for my own satisfaction, to a more public criticism. About this time, also, I received a letter from an orphanage^ in England, asking permission to 1 Glasgow Theological Club, 'January 9, 1882, at 5 Ashton Terrace. Paper by Mr. Drummond on " Natural Law in the Spiritual Sphere." ' 2 The request came from Mr. Newman, a member of the Society of Friends, in the interest of a Home for Orphans at Leominster. The tract was entitled 'Natural La-w in the Spiritual World. Degeneration — " If We Neglect," by Henry Drummond, F.R.S.E., F.G.S., Leominster : printed at the Orphans' Print ing Press. Price, \d. ; 6 s. per loo.' Drummond used to call Mr. Newman his ' guiding star.' M 1 62 HENRY DRUMMOND [1882-83 republish as a booklet one of the papers which had already appeared. The printing, I gathered, was to be done by the orphans themselves, and the proceeds were to go to the institution. What the orphans could want with this paper, except to practise printing long words on, I could not imagine; but, as they had no parents, I over looked the eccentricity and consented. Whether the orphans had ever made anything by it, I never knew; but presently letters dropped in from unknown corresiaondents, telHng me that in another sense the paper had done some good. This decided me at once. The world did not need being made wiser, but if there was the chance of helping any one a little practically, that was a thing to be done. In a rash hour, therefore, I addressed the introduction, along with some of the " Natural Law " papers, to a leading London publisher. In three weeks the manuscript, as I wholly expected, came back " declined with thanks." A slight change was made, and a second application to another well-known London house ; and again the document was returned with the same mystic legend — the gentlest yet most inexorable of sentences — inscribed upon its back. To be served a second time with the Black Seal of Literature was too much for me, and the doomed sheets were returned to their pigeon holes and once more forgotten. I suppose most men have a condemned cell in their escritoire. For their consolation, let me tell them further how at least one convicted felon escaped. ' Time had gone, when one day, passing through London on returning from a Continental tour, I happened along Paternoster Row. I encountered ^T. 31] SCIENCE AND RELIGION 1 63 Mr. M. H. Hodder of Messrs. Hodder and Stoughton. In the course of conversation he made a sudden reference to my ill-starred papers. My guilty secret, alas, was known ! By the treach ery of the other publishers, I was already the laughing-stock of the Row — the whole trade had been warned against me. But I was wrong. This most guileless and indulgent of publishers knew nothing! He had seen the papers in their earlier form, and was merely sounding their abashed author with a view to a possible reprint. I was honest enough, in the light of previous tragedies, to commit neither him nor myself, but promised to exhume the manuscript for his further consideration. From this interview I learned one lesson — that the search for a publisher is a mistake. The right way is to let the publisher search for the author. ' The next step was to hold a post mortem examina tion on my Rejected Addresses. I found mortal wounds in one or two of the papers, but the few which seemed most fit for resuscitation were for warded as a first instalment to the publisher. . . . I would have given anything just then to have gained time, for nearly half my remaining material was useless. ... I set to work replacing the most decayed of the papers with new ones, and these were literally written, I believe, like most literary work — with the printer's demon waiting at my elbow. The subjects were chosen as I went along, and, as the printer was exasperatingljr punctual, they received the barest possible justice. . . . Owing to the lengthened interval between the writing of one paper and another, consistency was almost impossible. I was careful in the 164 HENRY DRUMMOND [1882-S3 Preface to point out the unsystematic nature of the book and the almost haphazard arrange ment of the papers ; in point of fact, it was little more than the printer's necessity of paging ; but, in spite of all protest, some of my critics have wandered through these disjecta m.embra in search of a philosophic or theological system, and have come back laden with spoil of every description to confound and discomfit the illogical author.' But for a long time Drummond was out of reach of his critics. ' A few days after the publication of Natural Law and before it had reached the booksellers' shelves, I was steaming down the Red Sea en route for the heart of Africa.' CHAPTER VII DIARIES OF TRAVEL. — I. THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS The Yellowstone: Canyons, Geysers, Antelopes, and Beavers Henry Drummond made three expeditions to dis tant and at the time little known parts of the earth, — the first, in 1879, to the Rocky Mountains; the second, in 1883-84, to Central Africa; and the third, in the summer of 1 891, to the New Hebrides. We may take the first of these in this chapter. The expedition to the Rocky Mountains was a geological one, and Drummond joined it on the invi tation of Sir Archibald (then Professor) Geikie, who sends the following reminiscences leading up to it: — ' My first acquaintance with Henry Drummond began in the University of Edinburgh at the com mencement of the winter session of 1871-72. The Chair of Geology and Mineralogy had then recently been founded there by Sir Roderick Murchison, in conjunction with the Crown, and at his request I had been appointed Professor. At the end of my opening lecture, the first student who came to my retiring room to be enrolled as a member of the class was Drummond. I well remember his frank, open face and the gentle timidity of his manner as he gave in his name. The instinctive impression of that first interview was deepened by further intercourse with him. During the session frequent excursions were 165 1 66 HENRY DRUMMOND ['879 made to places of geological interest around Edin burgh, and these rambles afforded excellent oppor tunities for the teacher and the students to become personally acquainted with each other. I soon recog nised the earnest enthusiasm and remarkable capacity of the young man who had been the first to join me. He was conspicuous by his zeal in the field, and he took a good place in the periodical examinations, finally coming out in the first class. At the end of each session I used to take my students for a longer excursion to some more distant part of Scotland, where we spent ten days or so in constant field work. The first of these most enjoyable trips was devoted to the isle of Arran. Drummond was one of the party, and I remember being struck with his feeling for the beauty of natural scenery and the meditative look that often marked his features when we sat down on some rock or hillside to rest and enjoy the landscape. ' In later years, though no longer in my class, he used to come occasionally to the field excursions, and I was delighted to have these opportunities of enjoy ing a closer acquaintance with him. He had entirely won my affectionate regard, and I think he felt this himself, for he often came to consult me as to his career at college. In the year 1879 I planned an expedition into Western North America for the pur pose more particularly of studying the volcanic phe nomena displayed on so wonderful a scale in that region. Desiring a companion, I at once turned to my favourite pupil, and found him willing to join me.' The invitation was given in June, and Drummond had a month for preparation. Letters to Professor Geikie discuss their equipment, and the risks the expedition might run from the unsettled condition of the Indians in the Rocky Mountains: — Mt. 28] THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 167 To Professor Geikie 'Possilpark, Glasgow, July 3d, 1879. ' . . . I see from Renter's telegram of last night that the Indians are at war among themselves on the Canadian frontier. This will probably drain the south of Montana, and leave the Yellowstone clear. The reports in the Field lately have been also more encouraging.' Professor Geikie and Henry Drummond sailed for America on the 31st of July, and after a few pre liminary arrangements in the Eastern States, they travelled straight to the Rocky Mountains. Drum mond used to speak of the great generosity of the United States Government, which on the request of Professor Hayden, then at the head of the Geological Survey, provided these British geologists with an escort of soldiers, their needful equipage and supplies, and introductions to the various military posts in Indian territory. To His Mother 'Fort Bridger, Rocky Mountains, Thursday, Aug. 21, 1879. ' My DEAR Mother, — At last we are in the heart of the mountains, and very comfortably quartered, with a famous man in these parts. Judge Carter, to whom Geikie had introductions. We make his house our home for a couple of nights, and go cruising among the mountains during the day. Then we go off for a few days' camping, and return here for a night next week on our way further west, and north to the Yellowstone. Judge Carter lives in a desert in an old fort 1 68 HENRY DRUMMOND [1879 which was occupied until May the year before last by a post of soldiery for protection against the Indians. The Indians are quiet, and the fort has been abandoned, but "the Judge" and his cattlemen occupy it as a kind of farm and store. The fort is simply a collection of huts of wood, but everything is very comfortable. We shall be fitted out with waggon, and riding horses, and baggage animals for our camp by the Judge, which will be a great saving both of trouble and money. At present we are some seven thousand feet above sea level, and the climate is simply perfect. . . . ' On Monday rather a curious thing happened. We were at a place called Boulder, in Colorado, in a new gold-mining district right up among the mountains. As I was standing at the hotel door a man came up, and in an excited way asked the landlord if he knew where any minister lived, as a miner had died ten miles off in a lonely canyon (deep valley), and his mates had subscribed to bury him, and had sent him in to try and find a minister. He had already called on one, but he was from home. I told him if he could not find one anywhere he might come back to the hotel for me and I would go. In an hour he returned saying he had searched far and near, and could find ,no one. I had my tweeds on, but ran to a store, and fortunately found a white tie, which gave one quite a sufficiently professional look for the mountains. We drove ten miles in a two- mule buggy through one of the most wonderful glens I have ever seen. On reaching the mining settlement I found the whole camp turned out. It was the first death in the camp, and evidently ^T. 28] THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 1 69 it was no common occasion to the gold-diggers. Not a stroke of work had been done all day. All were dressed in their best, and the whole popula tion of the district, men, women, and children, were turned out to attend the funeral. We got the coffin put in the buggy, and the whole party proceeded up to a little chapel of wood, which had been built for any occasional service. A har monium was there, and a choir of the miners' daughters all ready to sing our hymns. I found I was expected to make an "oration," as they called it, and as the chapel was crammed to the door I had one of the best audiences I have ever seen in my life. The diggers are a very rough lot — kindly, brave, but wild and lawless — and I suppose few of them had ever been in that chapel before. All were emigrants who had come to seek their fortunes — some from the far East, some from Germany, some from England, and two young fellows with whom I spoke were from Glasgow. The man who had died was an Eng lishman. They listened with profound attention, and when the service was over they slowly filed past the open coffin, and took a last look at the dead. At last all were gone but one, a genuine rough specimen, who looked all round to see if we were alone, then bowed his face in his hands, and wept like a child. He was the dead man's mate. ' The grave was far up the valley, as there was noth ing here but the solid granite. The procession formed once more, and when we reached the spot the miners begged for another service. This was gladly granted, and I hope I did not lose so golden an opportunity. It may be years before there is another service in that camp, as it is one 170 HENRY DRUMMOND [1879 of the loneliest inhabited spots on earth. Before I came home they gave me tea, and loaded me with specimens of gold,' On the 2d of September the friends left Fort Ellis in Gallatin County, Montana, driving southwards, and by the way shooting grouse and prairie-dogs and fish ing for trout. In the afternoon they entered the Yellowstone Valley, 'an old lake basin with a canyon at each end.' DiARV ' Long, low undulating line. " Moraines, if ever I saw them ! " " Is that an erratic against the sky ? " ^ Porphyry boulders, granite, flint, fragments of chalced ony. The Lake Terraces. The Basalt Plateau, flat tables. Caught a dozen trout, average half a pound, in half an hour. Camped at Bottler's, just opposite Emigrant Peak; a hundred prospectors gulching for gold and silver. 'Wednesday, Sept. 3d. — Trout breakfast. Our horses, old cavalry " condemned." Open valley. Passed several " wailing " heaps of stones, made by Indian squaws to the Great Spirit when any of their braves died. " Nooned " at Canyon Creek, eleven miles from Bottler's : ^ cold trout, tongue, and crackers. Fishing, caught a two-and-a-half pounder, sluggish, not game. Broke camp at two, entered second canyon. At mouth on right magnificent glaciated gneiss (no granite in canyon). Moraines of immense size. Yankee Jim gave me a fine specimen of gold quartz from Bear Rock Canyon, Yellowstone. Camp at 4.30. Deer 1 These words were the exclamation of his companion. The existence of former glaciers in these valleys had not previously been observed. — Note by Pro fessor Geikie. ^ He spells it Boetler's. ^T. 28] THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 171 hanging between willows. Meteor, camp talk, buffalo robes. 'Thursday, Sept. 4th. — Up at 5.30, washed, break fast at 6. Broke camp at 7.15. Rode along flank of Cinnabar Mountain — limestone mostly. At the south end of the Devil's Slide upturned beds of limestones and bands of red and cream-coloured marls, almost vertical ; the walls of the slide composed of straight planed walls of limestone, exactly parallel, soft layers worn away but still quite distinct in part along the west wall; firs scattered through the gap, morning sun shining straight in and bringing out the vivid colouring of the great bands of rock curving down the mountain slope. Came to log shanty, store for miners, got gold specimen from miner in next shanty ; a ranch burned by Indians two years ago. Passed waggon with magnificent head of elk, passed dead rattlesnake. For two or three miles on this side of junction of Yellowstone with Gardiner rivers magnifi cent moraine mounds and lovely little lake basin. Struck across Gardiner River, long wearisome ride over high mounds and ridge of landslides and mo raines, passed two or three moraine lakes. Suddenly, without a minute's warning, half a mile off, [what looked like] a gigantic glacier, glittering through the pines. Camp on a rill, lunch. ' Examination of Springs. — First approach, exceed ing beauty and delicacy of fretwork, cascades above cascades. The hot springs, basins all temperature; the orifice, 140°. Edge colours of leaf fronds and seaweeds, white with orange veining; sacrilege to tread upon it. You look for notice-board in vain. Pools of every conceivable shape and size, rim usu ally two to four inches cut out like coral. Each basin a slight slope upwards, successive deposits 172 HENRY DRUMMOND [1879 marked upon sides as if they were made of piles of coins, framework of hills all around, dark pine forests and grass. Rise on to a plateau, you are in an arctic scene, everything is white like snow, the trees are growing up through it here and there. Water where it reaches the downmost lips is tasteless ; where it bubbles up it strongly tastes of sulphuretted hydrogen. ' The Pulpits. — One place has fifty; in shade cream- coloured, in sunshine spotless white. Stalactites here and there. Bottom of each pulpit covered with soft tufts of most delicate moss. Whole ground sounds hollow. ' The Forest. — A little farther on, the remains of a burned forest. The springs have come down through a wood and destroyed the trees. Now they stand up, some erect, some half-prostrate, just as in the living forest, but blanched, grey, dead, holding out thin, gaunt, bare arms as if in protest. Here and there an arbor vitce has survived and put on greenness once more. 'The Cascades. — Water falling over a hundred little balconies. On either side these balconies are as white as stucco. Where the cascades come down the walls are dyed near the top a deep orange, almost red, farther down a deep yellow, then saffron and exquisite shades of pink, then cream, then white. The water itself is milk-white, steaming at the top, and pattering and splashing like the fountains in gardens. This is at the top of the forest; the most wonderful colouring is at the southwest corner, above the petrified wood, and running through it. The fountain basins here are as regular as if chiselled by hand; the colours are pink, salmon, dark and light purple, white, cinnamon. ' The Upper Basin. — The blue colour of the water ^T. 28] THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS I 73 — the photograph — looking for a place to bathe — the cascades — the variegated tables — marble, ala baster, etc. 'Friday, Sept. 5th. — Seymour, the artist — Yellow stone Kelly, Miles's scout, — where the Indians killed. Crossed Gardiner River — rode up valley of east fork of Gardiner River, like Black Forest scenery. After an hour's ride we surmounted the plateau of basalt (waterfall) at the head of the valley. Then for hours wound over an undulating country, ridges and mounds, covered with erratic blocks of granite. The ice action quite remarkable, showing that the country has been covered with ice and not simply a local glacier; grand stream, with chalcedony, many agates ; elk- heads and horns of deer and buffalo scattered every where. Then began descent through valleys of pine and poplar ; camp waiting in a meadow, open pastures, animals turned loose. Only 2.30; ramble after lunch ; rocks, roses, squirrels. Jack went to look for an antelope, failed. O that bacon! Dark at 7.30; bed by 8.30. ' Saturday, 6th. — Awoke at five, thermometer in tent 36° ; outside the ground was covered with frost, ice in dishes and on creek, wash cold.^ Bacon again ! Tomatoes. The ceremony of packing. Three miles to Lower Creek — not time to visit the Fall. Struck up the long ridge of Mount Washburne, over hillside and forest ; long ride, seven hours in saddle. Andy's shooting — a prairie chicken. When riding three paces behind him suddenly fired, . . . [?] our horses into the air, a diabolical smell — the skunk! Our camp at end of long meadow in full view of Wash burne, the usual streamlet. ' Visit to the Falls and Canyon ; the evening light 1 They were about six thousand feet above sea level. 174 HENRY drummond [1879 the most favourable ; two things — the colouring from an esthetic standpoint, the erosion from a geological. The section at camp in stream : a devitrified obsidian (pumiceous base, abundantly filled with currant-like fragments of the original obsidian), resting on perlite and covered by an obsidian tuff. The great in terest of the march lay in tracing the granite boul ders right up the flanks of Washburne. The ice sheet must have been of enormous thickness, and not merely local. The tracks of the glacier flow and wind round the mountain, and are caught up again in the long plateau traversed the day before along the east fork of Gardiner River. ' Sabbath, 7th. — Remained encamped all day, spent the day wandering around the Canyon, the magnificent timber like a gentleman's park for thousands of acres, soft yellow glades, withered flowers, one herb like the maidenhair, only with a thicker stem. The N. T. 'The Squirrel; Jack off hunting, Andy ditto; the cranes. Return to camp. " There's Jack," a minut est figure in the distance — " Has he got anything? " Nothing — another week on bacon ! " Something white ? A crane ? What — a sack. What have you got?" "Elk!" The unpacking — the choice bits, the supper ! ' The Canyon.^ — The most grand and memorable spectacle of my life, the inconceivable beauty and glory of the colouring; a colossal gorge zigzagging; green, foaming, spraying, roaring river. The sides of the gorge — not clean-cut, but carved into alcoves, pin nacles, spires, of the most picturesque and fantastic forms. The original colour of the rock is pure, daz zling white from river to crest, but little of the white 1 That is, the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone River at the south foot of Mount Washburne. ^T. 28] THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 175 is left save here and there a brilliant scar. The first weathering is a pale lemon yellow, deepening into saffron, sulphur, and through all the shades of yellow into the deepest orange. Then another gradation is the most tender rose-pink into vermilion and dark blood-red. The tone of the whole is a rich cream colour, deepening into russets and yellows and oranges — a kind of artificial sunlight. The distance tones were first in the yellows, a faint spring green ; and the usual purple, shading into the deepest blue of distance as the canyon lost itself in the distant gloom, at the foot of Mount Washburne. The Fall — the lush green at the cauldron, the purple mists, the roar, the emerald green at the crests succeeded by dazzling spray — for three hundred and fifty feet. The lichen colours, brown here and there. The dark green pines mantling the whole, and straggling here and there in single file right down to the water's edge. ' Geological. — The rock is rhyolite — a solid mass of volcanic formation. Then the interest of the vast erosion, first, of the stream ; second, of the weather, frost, and jointing along the sides. All through the forest and on all the plateau around the great blocks of granite and gneiss are records of the glacier age. The three elements combine: fire, water, and ice. 'Monday, the Sth of September. — Followed trail through magnificently timbered country with parks, glades, and streamlets, then across prairie country to head of Alum Creek — deposits, effluvium [from] steaming springs, sulphur mountain, Solfataras. Trail through timber again. Over the Divide. Down steep forest-clad hill to the east fork of Madison River. Fire Hole River. Through long swamp — timber again. Camp in glade by river-side. Seven hours in saddle. Lunch, bathe, bear, theological discussion 176 HENRY DRUMMOND [1879 with Jack. Geology, volcanic all day. Obsidian blocks everywhere; schistose obsidian. ' Tuesday, Sept. 9th. — Broke camp about 8.30, mag nificent ride through glade and forest, crossed Fire Hole River several times : clean turf banks, meadow, o-reen and golden grass. Puff of steam here and there through the forest, white patches of geyser deposit. Lovely little basin by side of trail, green emerald water. Then struck through fallen timber — suddenly the forest opened — an immense glade encircled by pine mountains, the further end covered with snow. 'Old Faithful. — Notice his spurt at lunch, 1.2 1 P.M. Went up at the hour of next performance. Precisely at the hour almost, 2.20, he gave a grunt and then threw up a little water. Visitors rushed back in alarm. Then at intervals, say at i-| minutes, he made another feint; then the feints became more frequent, each succeeding better than the last. Finally he ran up twenty or thirty feet and then, as if climbing on the shoulders of this he ran up his column to the full height. This began about 2.30, and the maximum was reached about 2.31 ; it remained at this height, say one minute, and then gradually lessened. The eruption lasted till 2.36^ — about 4-|- minutes. Ap- pearaitce — in the distance a low flat mound appears rugged as you approach it, then as you get near you imagine it to be made of coral-madrepore. A little coral island, — on narrower inspection urns, pools, basins, fantastic shapes, every conceivable design and colour, — pink, yellow, orange, umber. Many of the pools contain water — veiy pure — a faint but perceptible taste of sulphuretted hydrogen. One or two orifices in the mound were steaming — small caverns as large as a coal-scuttle, some of them too hot to hold the hand in. The " valleys " along the flank of the little ^T. 28] THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 1 77 island were made of tesselated pavement of imma ture [ ?] workmanship, like sections cut smooth from brain coral. Some, nearly all, held little lakes from the size of a walnut shell upwards, with pink bottoms. Others had a little rivulet trickling down. At one side quite a little stream wound down to the river a hundred and fifty yards off. The bed of this rill was covered with fragments of silicified wood. The ridges were made of masses of pearls without the tesselated look ; ruggedly smoothed lumps, bosses like botryoidal. After the eruption the whole sides were running with rills which sparkled in the sun gloriously, as they trickled from basin to basin. ' Sitting on the mound after making notes, a rhythmic thud at one minute interval. Hot to the seat. The orifice of the geyser — a roughly oval hole, large enough to let two tolerably stout men slip through. Noise like a barn threshing-mill, giving occasional explosions, water coming up but not over edge, cloud of steam, sides lined with dark orange, slimy coating, with a pale sulphurous colour round the margin. The moment the lip was reached the beautiful madrepore formation began. Two handkerchiefs and a hat recovered, my handkerchief forfeited. 3-15 boil in tube. 3.20 spurted thick about 5 ft. in air, boiling and increasing. 3-2ii spurted thick about 5 ft. in air. 3-22|- spurted twice, once about 5 ft., once 3. 3-23 spurted once about 5 ft. 3-25 spurted once about 2 ft. 3-26 thick stream, 5 ft. 3-27 thick stream, 5 ft. 3-28 very thin shower, 4 ft. 3-29 shower, 12 ft. 3-29I- shower rising. 3-291 shower rose to full height and continued at this maximum, till 178 HENRY DRUMMOND [1879 3.30I then dwindled but action brisk, till 3.35 the last half minute steam alone but in a thick mass. The geyser steams always. ' Old Faithful occupies a very prominent position on a white sinter plateau raised above the valley and look ing down on all the other geysers. Three extinct geysers surround it at fifty paces, and another lies to the west the same distance, which was slowly steaming. These four attendants are all perfectly symmetrical, of the same size, and equidistant.^ Vast pine-woods encircle the whole geyser basin, and straggling islands of timber are scattered through the whole undulating valley. Here and there white colour of steam, now one in full blast. 4.30 " there it goes " — signs. 4.32 low spurt. 4.34 low spurt. 4.37 high. 4-3 7f higher. 4.38 up to max., lasts 4 minutes, very high. 5.39, date of next eruption, seen from Beehive — 3^ minutes. First water faUs back into funnel — after that the temperature is so high that when pressure is relieved it turns into steam [?]. Geysers damming up river with sinter. Springs on both sides meeting. The river banks simply show sections of geyserite. Overlapping curves. Mounds raised by overflow from the basin. Hyalite (or millerite ?) the usual (?) struct ure in Old Faithful. Took temperature of two springs, ISt, 185° F., 2d, 200° F. Boiling briskly. Appear ance an irregular tube, tawny, ugly throats. A third with a thin crust of ice floating on the top, such was the appearance. The water was very deep and of the most perfect crystal, blue in shade — green in sun.^ 1 Here follows a rough sketch. 2 -with this a rough sketch. Mt. 28] THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 1 79 ' Explored the Giantess, the Beehive, the Jokers [?]. Played at stopping up a would-be geyser. Different forms: mermaid grottos, ulcers, gashes, gaping mouths with horrid yellow umber lips; grunting, snorting, hissing, bubbling, gurgling, spluttering. A pink tube, six feet — pink coral. Rugged coral sides, like a cancer. 'Wednesday, Sept. lo. — Up at 6, wash in creek. Elk and tomatoes. Old Faithful played at 6.26, a very fine display, and again at 7.24 ; just saw him finish, at 7.25 to .27; saw two minutes' play, not at maximum. Examined the Castle, Vesuvius, the Grotto, the Punch-bowl, the Cancer. Adjoining this, a deep grotto, with dentate or serrate margin — orange fringe all around. At the side of this a blis tered crust — about ten feet diameter, with five ragged holes, fined with sulphur and black mineral [?], three steaming, one little pond still, and fringed with deli cate lace [?] work. The fourth boiling, and splutter ing boiling water, and gurgling. One of these mouths has raised, pouting lips.^ ' Old Faithful played at 8.30 and 9.30 precisely. The Castle in full blast, 9.15. ' Collecting diatoms, heard shouting, two men holler ing ; great spluttering and tremendous clouds of steam. Suddenly they ran down bank and struck across river — up to knees at least. " The Castle ! " Reached it breathless, thinking it was as short in its period as Old Faithful— played on and on and on. Booming. Party came here on Monday evening ; Castle has not spurted since then. Hats in, thrown high in the air, hand kerchiefs, stones ; showered out.^ 1 Rough sketch given of ' a very perfect form of geyser, perfectly round, shallow saucer, with an irregular funnel mouth —boiling.' Three other larger sketches. 2 Sketch of ' outline of Castle against blue sky, the rainbow, the whole sides running with steam.' l8o HENRY DRUMMOND ['879 ' After lunch walked on to examine the remaining geysers: Fan, Grave, Sawmill, etc. Saw Sawmill in action. Snow came on as we were emerging from the basin. Walked to the half-way group. There over taken by pack train. Struck ^ camp in a bay of the wood overlooking geyser basin (lower). Went off to examine many lively geysers. ' The Mud Geyser. — The most comical thing in nature! On a summit of a pine grove — grass and wild flowers. You come to a low oval basin, marked out by an undulating rim of some dazzling white ma terial. The one-half of the basin consists of a pink, sun-cracked mud of the consistency of the finest stucco — not a flat surface, but a score of large mole hills, each made of concentric cones, the rings quite well marked, and each terminating in a perfectly round mouth, like a miniature crater. Here and there the cone is mverted, leaving a round hole. One or two of them are steaming faintly, and a dusting of sulphur is sprinkled over one or two of them. One or two of the craters are also smoking, hissing briskly. The major ity are stiff and cold. The pink colour is exceedingly beautiful and delicate, very pale — a mere tinge — yet quite decided in its tone. The other half of the pond is altogether deposit. It consists of the purest white mud, boiling as briskly as the viscous nature of the material will permit. The spurts come up in little domes, some only the size of a thimble-top, some a walnut, a teacup, a sugar-bowl. They blow up like a soap-bubble, quite suddenly, and burst in a tiny foun tain. The rings which they make in falling remain fixed round each, so that each bubble has a number of concentric circles surmounting it, giving a very pecul iar symmetrical pattern, which adorns the entire sur- 1 Pitched? ^T. 28] THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS l8l face of the geyser. ^ Sometimes, instead of one bubble coming up like a cup, half a dozen little thimbles dance up, each with its little rings around it. A small island of solid mud stands to one side. This is shaped like a small model of a mountain in stucco, and the dancing bells aU around it give a very curious effect. ' But the most pecuhar thing is at the junction of the solid pink with the white. The greatest heat is appar ently at the white end, and the pond is slowly becom ing solid. The mud near the junction is much thicker, and the spurts in the thicker crust much more con strained ; the noise here is loudest, the motion slowest, but the patterns infinitely more amusing. Here is one circle of mud as big as a large dinner-plate ; a ring or two, like a thick rope, surrounds it. These ropy rims are so thick that the power below can scarcely destroy them, and they remain constant for several minutes at a time. The centre of the plate is the great scene of action. At first there lies upon it a little shape of jelly, like a custard just turned out of its cup. Suddenly it is heaved up in the air. A ragged mass of mud hangs in the air for a moment, and then as suddenly another custard is lying on the plate, just like the last. Another moment of pause, the bottom of the plate is slowly knocked out once more, the custard disappears, and this time a pear lies on the plate. Then another custard, then two. Once three came all at once. There was a whole basin of these plates, all going through the same legerdemain at once. This was going on in a small bay formed by the hardened crust, standing two feet above the sur face. I was standing on this crust (I am now), within an inch of the edge of the boiling custards, right in 1 Rough sketch. 1 82 HENRY DRUMMOND [1879 the centre of the pond. One spurt of mud lit on my hand from the next bay, where the most interesting operation of all was going on. This bay was six feet long by two and a half, yet it only contained four spouters. The rest were all closed up. One of them deceived me for a long time. I thought he was stopped up, too, but he suddenly began to grunt and throw up pellets of mud five feet in the air. One fel low was shut up, all but a hole the size of your finger. He was a little dome of plastic mud, and every bubble of steam made him heave an inch or two, so that he was riding up and down like a ship at anchor, or a buoy in a ground swell, all the time. The little orifice was alternately being stopped up and blown out, and the grunting he kept up was tragic to behold. The colour of these last was the delicate pink which made the sight a most beautiful one, and quite destroyed one's notion of a mud geyser. A faint steam was rising all the time. The sky was the most exquisite blue, the snow-shower of the past hour having cleared off the smoke from the burning forests, which filled the air all the past week. 'The symmetry of the bubbles is the next most note worthy thing. The rings are perfectly formed and rise like mounds.^ The thickened spurts obviously mark the declining energy of the spring. The mud is thicker, the ebullition less brisk, and here and there in the " bays " has already become quite stiff and im pervious to the passage of steam. One plate or cone became silent and quite stopped up apparently while I was standing by ; it was the one closest to the solid mud behind, and was the next in natural course to shut up. 'The white colour resembles molten porcelain or ^ A sketch. '*^T.28] THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 1 83 china. The present circuit of the pond is about 150 (paces) yards, but it is evident that at the solid end has once been much larger. The grassless part equals 150 yards. The independence of all the geysers each on its own hook — sometimes one boiling, three feet off another perfectly quiet, next one another roarer.i Jack assures me that in [?]'s time the whole pond was like meerschaum. The last escort made pipes, bowls, ornaments. Next morning they were all cracked. ' On the way back to camp shot a skunk ; immense brushlike tail, slow motion ; only measure of defence the smell. Small black head, glossy black fur; skin, 20 cents. Supper, mock-turtle soup, brandered elk steak, bread, and tea. Andy cut down two trees for fire wood. Put one bodily on fire. Intense cold. The wolf barking, the red squirrel cracking in the wood below. 'Thursday, Sept. nth. — Thermometer at 5.30, outside tent, 19°. Everything froze stiff. Breakfast of elk, green corn, jam, coffee, hard tack, bread, and more of Andy's stories. " It does a fellow good to get out a string of oaths — four or five miles long — to be continued on the next page." The plain before the camp bounded by fine forest, volumes of steam coming up everywhere around. The white puffs in the dis tant wood, the great clouds over the main geyser group, the cold condensing the steam rapidly. Counted fifty from the trail a few yards from camp. Soon struck Madison River — peculiarity of flow, no flood mark, uniform banks of turf, like travelling through Hyde Park heavily timbered. The Madison Canyon — very fine scenery, wide-timbered glen, splendid crags here and there. Trail crosses river four or * Here a sketch-map of all these mud geysers. 184 HENRY DRUMMOND [1879 five times. After passing through canyon crossed and camped on meadowy bank by a small clump of firs. Lunch. 'At 3 or 3.30 went hunting antelope with Jack ; struck through timber for a mile and a half, crossing little prairie. Abundant sign everywhere. Sign of antelope in timber is unique : " been down there ? " Struck high prairie; soon sighted game; made fine stalk behind clump of trees ; Jack to fire, for camp wanted meat : threw down hat, crawled on belly thirty yards under bush and fallen timber; fired at doe on the watch. Herd (unseen till now) all started and ran. In one hundred and fifty yards the doe fell dead, after running full speed all that distance. I got a long shot with Andy's cavalry carbine at the retreating herd, six, with one fine buck, but they were just disappear ing over the brow of a hill. Sighted game next b)'^ a watercourse in glade one mile off. On nearing the place crept up a slope and saw game two hundred yards away. Hat off, down on belly; wormed through the grass till within a hundred and fifty yards ; wind blowing right from me to them. Fired. As usual, all started. Jack ran to the right to catch them as they ran back, I to where they would round the hill. Pres ently the magnificent buck dashed past at full speed — flying shot, must have missed. Fired at a doe coming behind — must have struck her originally, as, although Jack fired at her, three bullets were in her when she dropped. Jack had shot another through the fore legs, which I killed with my revolver. During the retreat Jack surprised a second herd and kiUed one more. Total, four antelopes — all does. ' Note. — The antelope is a prairie animal. Witness in the first place its splendid speed. It is the fleetest of all animals, and to see a herd of six or eight dash- ^T. 28] THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 1 85 ing along the prairie is a sight to keep the keenest sportsman from touching his trigger. Powers of speed like the antelope's would be useless in Switzer land. Nevertheless, they do inhabit some districts which are essentially timber lands, but they make their home in the long grassy glades with which nearly every forest in the West is studded, or in the small rich prairies of rising ground, interspersed among the woods. For another thing, their fur is altogether inappropriate to forest life. If you put your fingers into it and pull gently you can pull the whole hair out by handfuls. A forest animal requires a fur which is well rooted in the skin to resist the rough friction of the trees, brush, and especially the sharp prongs and spines of fallen timber. 'Tenacity of Life. — Jack's first shot entered at the breast, and ploughed clean through .the body, coming out within an inch of the tail. The animal, however, bounded off as if nothing unusual had happened ; ran down hill at full speed along with its companions for one hundred and fifty yards, and then dropped stone dead. Another, which was shot through both legs, hobbled along a considerable distance like a kangaroo, using the hind legs and the breast, until I shot her dead through the neck with my revolver. The effect of the cry, " Hoo, hoo," in making them turn round even when scared. On the plains they feed with buffalo in countless herds. Their fur is almost use less, for the reason mentioned, but their skin is valu able for gloves, gauntlets, etc. The bucks are the most difficult to stalk. They always manage to get into a place in the herd where no stalk is possible. 'Friday, Sept. 12th. — Broke camp precisely at ei'^ht. Ice outside tent, sponge inside frozen into a bo"'ulder, but the night much warmer than the preced- 1 86 HENRY DRUMMOND [1879 ing. Crossed the Madison, and followed through woods and glades for several miles the general course of the river, though often out of sight of its banks. The trail lay over an ancient river-terrace (perfectly well marked — compare terraces on Madison between Virginia City and Bozeman), which made the riding easy. After leaving the river struck through timber with prairies and abundant game, antelope, everywhere for twelve miles, when we crossed a fork of the Madi son. The trail next led up the low Divide, across the main chain of the Rocky Mountains through the Tangee [?] Pass. The ascent is very gentle, and it is almost inconceivable that this should represent the Divide between the Atlantic [?] and Pacific waters. On the Madison side of the water-shed we passed a splendid beaver-dam, where the beavers are still work ing. Jack gave us the natural history of the beaver as we crossed the pass. After a gentle descent of a mile or two we left the so-called waggon-road and fol lowed the brook — the source of Snake River — down to Henry's Lake. Camped about a couple of miles from the lake by the creek's side, and just below a very fine beaver-dam, which we had the opportunity to examine. It is either now in use, or has been very re cently abandoned. Home by three o'clock, seven hours in saddle. Lounging [?] Creek here is full of trout at grasshopper season, but now apparently is empty. On Henry's Lake a company of soldiers are encamped, for protection from the Indians. A short stone's throw from our camp I stumbled on a rough trench or breastwork. Jack says it was thrown up in 1877 by General Howard, who was encamped here several days when chasing the Nez Perce Indians. They were only one day ahead, and sent back a band who captured his baggage-train. General Howard followed the Indians ^T. 28] THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 1 87 right over our route, but they were not captured till General Miles headed them in Clark's Fork (of Yel lowstone ?).^ Twenty-seven white soldiers were killed during the short resistance, and some threescore Indian braves — the number captured was three hundred and fifty. ' We saw lodge poles frequently along the route, but these probably belonged to a tribe of Bannock Indians who were camped a few hundred yards from this spot only this week. They had been up the Madison from their reservation below Camas Prairie after antelope. They are supposed to be friendly. We shall likely overtake them to-morrow or next day. ' Before dinner strolled up the creek to examine the beaver-dam more thoroughly. The creek is of the usual character, soft turf banks of uniform depth, a few inches, and pebbly bottom. An even flow wets even banks, like a shallow mill-lade. Breadth quite within a very good running jump. We traced it up from camp to the first dam. Poplar trees and willow brush fringed the ground, and these had been cut through and dammed across the stream. Pebbles and mud had been baked down upon the whole. The dam, therefore, was a sort of wicker work, with rough, big base, and more compact top of interlacing willow, mud, and stones, formed into a stiff, impervious em bankment. Along the sides of the streamlet the log stumps were left standing about two to two and a half feet from the ground, just gnawed off where the animal could best reach with his teeth. This dam extended far across the little valley beyond the bounds of the stream a hundred [?] , and the result was the forma tion of a swamp of quite considerable size. Here peat formed. The beaver, as a geological agent. 1 Or Clark's Fork, south of Flathead Lake. 1 88 HENRY DRUMMOND [1879 The situation of the dam was admirably chosen. The opening valley, opening out from the hills, a thin patch of timber on either side to furnish the material for building.' Here the diary abruptly closes, though the expedi tion lasted for another fortnight. Sir Archibald Geikie writes of it: — ' In this journey, thrown into closest contact with him under the most varied conditions of travel, includ ing even sometimes hardship and risk, I learned to appreciate more than ever the beauty of his character. His singularly placid and equable temperament was like a kind of perpetual sunshine. Nothing seemed ever to discompose him or overshadow that winning smile that used to fascinate the wild men among whom we were thrown. And yet he was singularly impres sionable. The grandeur of the scenery through which we passed appealed powerfully to his imagination, and his eyes would flash with delight as each new land scape unfolded itself before us. ' He looked on everything with the eye of a poet first, and of a man of science afterwards. The human interests appealed to him before he began to dissect and compare and classify. But the marvellous interest of the geological phenomena which unfolded them selves as we rode on through those primeval solitudes roused his enthusiasm sometimes to the highest pitch. ' Drummond's keen sense of humour was another feature in his nature that came out vividly during that memorable journey. How he would draw out our attendants over the camp-fire at night, getting each to cap the other's thrilling and incredible tales of adventure ! I would sometimes watch him playing ^¦^•28] THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 1 89 them as if they were the trout or salmon he was so fond of alluring in the streams of his own coun try. And how he would laugh over their exagger ations, and suggest possible omissions and lapses of memory ! ' After their return to Scotland Drummond wrote a very warm letter of thanks to his chief : — To Professor Archibald Geikie 'Possilpark, Glasgow, Nov. 22, 1879. '. . . For my part, I feel the Western expedition has been a very solid gain, and I know it will be helpful to me in very many ways all my life. The short interval since coming home has been suffi cient to strike out of the picture all that was merely incidental ; and now the perspective of the whole begins to shape itself. The whole of America impresses me now as a revelation — a revelation in civilisation, in politics, in human nature ; and if not a revelation in geology, a con firmation, elevation, and consolidation, which is more than equivalent. I feel the gain in every department of my work. . . . ' For all your other kindnesses to me I cannot attempt to thank you. I am sure I would find it not only difficult, but impossible, to express how much of all that I have enjoyed and learned during these past months I have owed to you. You will allow me at least this reference to it' CHAPTER VIII DIARIES OF TRAVEL. — II. EAST CENTRAL AFRICA In the year 1859 David Livingstone, invested with the powers of a British consul, led a government ex pedition to the Zambezi. His instructions were ' to extend our knowledge of the geography and of the mineral and agricultural resources of Eastern and Central Africa; to improve our acquaintance with the inhabitants, and to endeavour to engage them to apply themselves to industrial pursuits and to the cultivation of their lands, with a view to the produc tion of raw material to be exported to England in return for British manufactures.' It was hoped that ' by encouraging the natives to occupy themselves in the development of the resources of the country, a considerable advance might be made towards the extinction of the slave-trade.' Upon this expedition Livingstone discovered Nyasa, an enormous fresh water lake some three hundred and fifty miles long by fifteen to forty-four broad. It is surrounded by high tablelands, fertile, and bearing a considerable popula tion, whose material and moral interests Livingstone left as his last bequest to his countrymen. ' I have opened the door,' he said ; ' I leave it to you to see that no one closes it after me.' The task was taken up by three British Churches. The Free Church of Scotland, under the leadership of Dr. Stewart, founded a station, which they named Livingstonia,^ at the south 1 The United Presbyterian Church joins with the Free Church of Scotland in the Livingstonia Mission, paying the salary of Dr. Laws, the head of the Mission. 190 EAST CENTRAL AFRICA I9I end of the Lake; but they afterwards transferred it to Bandawe, about two hundred miles farther north. The Established Church of Scotland founded a station at Blantyre, in the Shire Highlands between the Lake and the Zambezi. The Universities Mission of the Church of England began work on the east of the Lake. These missions did not confine themselves to preaching, but among their agents are doctors and nurses, male and female teachers, masons, carpenters, and gardeners. About the same time a few British traders began the cultivation of coffee and certain cereals in the neighbourhood of Blantyre. But all these settlements were hundreds of miles from the coast ; and, in order to convey their supplies, as well as to develop a commerce strong enough to supplant the slave-trade which devastated the region, a carrying agency was needed, with stations on the Zambezi, the Shire, and the Lake. In 1878, therefore, the African Lakes Company, or Corporation as it now is, was formed by Glasgow gentlemen who were in sympathy with the missions and with Livingstone's policy of developing industries for the natives and keeping from them spirits, gunpowder, and arms. The Company was not started for gain; or for gain only in the sense that commercial soundness is the one solid basis on which to build up an institution that is to permanently benefit others. A large amount of private capital has been expended by this Company; yet, during the years of its noble enterprise, it has reinvested in Africa all that it has earned there. In a short time it founded twelve trading stations, manned by twenty- five Europeans and many native agents. It ran a Old Livingstonia, at the south end of the Lake, was by Cape Maclear. The name has been transferred to the Livingstonia Training Institution at the head of the Lake, near Mount Waller (p. 205), three thousand feet above the Lake. 192 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 steamer up the Shire, and another upon Lake Nyasa. It started a coffee plantation and other agricultural works. ' For the first time on the large scale it taught the natives the meaning and blessings of work. It acted as a check upon the slave-trade, prevented inter tribal strife, helped to protect the missionaries in time of war, and in short, modest as the scale was on which it worked, and necessarily limited as were its oppor tunities, it was for years the sole administering hand in this part of Africa.' ^ In 1883 Mr. James Stevenson, F.R.G.S., was chair man of the Company. It occurred to him that it would be important to have a scientific examination of the countries extending to Lake Tanganyika, and this he thought Henry Drummond could carry out. In June, Drummond went to Crieff to meet Mr. Stevenson, and, leave of absence having been granted to him by the College Committee, the plan of the ex pedition was arranged. To Mr. and Mrs. Stuart 'Glen Elm Lodge, June 16, 1883. '. . . I am going off to Africa next Wednesday. I am going right into the heart of the country to make a scientific exploration of the Lake Nyasa and Tanganyika region. I shall be away a long time, probably a year or more. The whole scheme has come upon me like an avalanche, and I am in a whirl of preparation.' He crossed the continent to Brindisi, and took steamer to Alexandria, his travelling companion being the Rev. James Bain, of the Free Church Livingstonia ' Tropical Africa, p. 82. ^T-3i] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 1 93 Mission. They found traces of the bombardment on every hand, and saw the battle-field of Tel-el-Kebir, 'still thick with cartridges; the desert all round is streaked with the marks of gun-carriages as if our cannon had rolled over them yesterday.' To His Brother 'S.S. Ravenna, Red Sea, July 2d, 1883. ' I take a full course of sea-bathing, and hope to land in Africa as strong as a lion. My beard grows mightily, although I am a terrible object to be in the cabin of a P. and O. mail. A lot of Indian Government agriculturists are on board, and I am getting terribly wise in tea, coffee, cinchona, and spices. If my wisdom can be transferred to practice, I really think the Lakes Company may yet get back my expenses. We reach Aden to-morrow. The Pole Star is sinking fast, and in a day or two I shall sight the Southern Cross.' At Aden, Bain and Drummond were joined by Dr. and Mrs. Scott, of the Livingstonia Mission, and Messrs. Hedderwick and Henderson, of Blantyre. They had a bad voyage to Zanzibar through the mon soon. Drummond crossed the equator in an ulster. At Zanzibar he had his first sight of tropical vegetation, and was fascinated with the spectacle of the bazaars. On July 26, after a couple of days at Mo9ambique, they reached Quilimane, in Portuguese East Africa. Hospitably entertained there by Mr. and Mrs. Shearer, of the Lakes Company, they started up the Qua-qua in shallow boats — ' a splendid week, like a continual picnic, with gipsy breakfasts and teas by the river 194 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 bank' — to where a portage of five miles brought them to the Zambezi and the Company's steamer. From Quilimane Drummond kept a full journal and also wrote regularly to his home. In Tropical Africa he has given a charming sketch of his travels, of the general nature of the region he crossed, and of the geological discoveries which he made upon it. Many of even the most finished sentences and para graphs of his volume have been printed just as they stand in his daily notes. But his diary contains a great deal of interesting matter which he did not publish ; and besides giving this and a general out line of his journeys, I have felt it due to his memory to state, a little more fully than he has allowed him self to do, the interesting and original observations he made upon the structure of the African continent.^ On the voyage up the Qua-qua, Drummond noticed the ibises perching upon the trees — 'which struck me as a peculiarity in waders.' ' The only annoyance was the mosquitoes, which were very numerous, but their bark, I honestly confess for my part, I find worse than their bite.' 'A geological feature of considerable interest was observed about half a mile from Mogurrumba [about fifty miles from the sea]. Since leaving Quilimane we had seen nothing but mud, — mud black, mud grey, mud dry, mud wet, mud eroded, mud in slopes, mud banks, mud channels — everywhere mud, mud, mud. But, in a high, clean-cut bank, where the river curved and deepened, this monotony was broken by a dark-coloured boss of what appeared to be rock. It 1 Tropical Africa was published in 1884. Since then many editions have been sold of it; besides 5000 of a small volume of extracts, entitled Nyasaland. A German translation, Inner-Afrika, appeared at Gotha in 1890 ; second edition, 1891. Translations into some other European languages have also been made, but I have not seen them. •^T. 30 EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 195 was but a few yards in breadth, rising out of the water to a height ^ of some six or eight feet, where it was again lost in the universal enswathement of clay. Had the clay been anything else, and had the place been almost anywhere else but Africa, I should have pronounced it a basalt dyke. But here this was out of the question, and with some expectancy I watched the natives pole towards the spot. A blow with the hammer revealed, beneath the blackened crust, a dull reddish rock, porous in texture, and considerably decomposed. There was no doubt whatever as to its nature. It was coral. Sponges were scattered through it in considerable quantity, as well as other organisms of smaller size. Possibly this may be the old fringing reef of the continent. Nowhere else in the Qua-qua have I seen or heard of any similar exposure. Senor Nunes, the English consul at Quili mane, told me that coral reefs appeared in the Zambezi delta at two places. Is there any relation between these three, and any coincidence of general outline between this ancient reef and the first inland belt of raised country — the first plateau? 'Aug. 7th, 1883. — Two or three miles above Shu- panga^ I noticed from the steamer two or three thin strata of what appeared to be sandstone rising above the water-line. We had followed the exposure only for a few hundred yards when a fine flock of guinea- fowl appeared at the water's edge, at which we fired, and stopped the steamer to pick up the slain. I had thus time to bring on board three specimens — the first a very fine grained sandstone; the second a red dish marly sandstone also very fine; and the third a somewhat more highly siliceous sandstone of a brick red colour through which were scattered small peb- 1 On the Zambezi. 196 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 blets of quartz. These deposits were buried under ten or fifteen feet of sandy alluvium. They are only visible for a short distance, and if the river had been two feet higher, would have been entirely concealed. I kept a close look-out upon the banks all day, but saw no trace of rock until the custom-house near the mouth of the Shire was reached. Near there two or three low conical hills make their appearance, a fine artificial section being obtained immediately behind the custom-house. It is a pure white quartz; not quartzite, but vein-quartz apparently. Distinct traces of a matrix are visible in the section — in the shape of small granitic or mica-schistose masses. ' A low bar of rock seems to stretch across the Shire at the very mouth, but only a few boulders near the side were above water. It had the same appearance as the last. ' At the custom-house I had an opportunity of seeing the geological structure of the low conical hills which anticipate the rising ground of the continent. Behind the rough shanty which serves as the custom-house a fine section is cut in one of those hills. It seems to consist almost entirely of a pure white ungranulated quartz. Traces of a granitic or mica-schistose matrix appear here and there, but the great mass is essen tially pure quartz. The next specimens were obtained at Chinga-Chinga, where we anchored for the night. I sent a couple of men to the hill on shore to bring me specimens, which I found to be quartz of the same kind as at the custom-house. The views all the way up the river are very fine, the valley being richly wooded, the trees rising up all the hills, and crossing even the loftiest parts of Morambala. 'Aug. 8th, 1883. — Our first stop was at the south end of Morambala,' at the Company's "station " (a grass 1 On the Shire. ^T. 31] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 1 97 shanty) presided over by a native named "Sam." . . . Great piles of wood for the steamer are arranged on the bank opposite Sam's house, and an hour was spent in loading. I spent the time with my gun and ham mer in a morning stroll, with a native as guide, through a mile or two of the adjacent country. On every side I found a rather poor granitic soil, with boulders of granite scattered everywhere. It is a coarse grey variety. ' It was about two hours' steam from Sam's when the natives signalled to stop for the projected visit to the hot springs. We started in single file, headed by two natives, one of whom carried a short sword with which he assisted in clearing a path through the long reeds lining the bank. We waded straight inland for a few hundred yards through grass and reeds which were often far over our heads, when we struck a small footpath running parallel with the flank of Moram bala. This we followed through a country rich with shrubs, trees, and wild flowers, for about a couple of miles, when we reached the springs or spring, for there is only one. (Our exact time was twenty-five minutes' hard walking.) There is nothing of the geyser-like character about this spring. It is a little spring of the usual kind, bursting up among the granite pebbles, and, but for its temperature and chemical composition, might be the head-waters of a highland burn, or one of those exquisite fountains which bubble up among the granite hills of Arran. Steam was being given off in small quantities, and a strong smell of sulphu retted hydrogen announced the presence of the min eral water at some little distance. Unfortunately, neither of my thermometers registered over 150°, so that I dared not risk them in the water, which was plainly considerably above that temperature. Proba- 198 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 bly Livingstone's figure, 170° Fah., expresses the exact truth. We found it impossible to hold a finger in the water for a single moment; but in a pool some twenty yards beneath the opening of the spring we enjoyed a very agreeable bath. . . . The taste reminds one of some of the home mineral waters, such as Bridge of Allan, the sulphurous taste not being dis agreeably strong. The position of the spring in Ravenstein's map is decidedly too far north. It is quite a mile or two from the end of Morambala. Morambala is also incorrectly placed, its direction being not due north and south, but to the west of north. In the Portuguese map the position is exactly right.' The only other facts not mentioned in the volume, which are recounted in the diary, are the tobacco manufactured by Chipitula, the Shire chief — 'capital stuff, a fine, mild tobacco, if anything wanting in strength, but extremely pleasant to those who prefer the gentler varieties of the weed ; ' the female orna ment known as the pelele ring, 'a most hideous fashion, especially in the older women, who wear it of the largest possible size. ' Conceive of a thick upper lip standing out from the face like a shelf. Let into this is a metal or ivory bone cup, its rim flush with the surface of the skin. The cup lies with its open mouth turned upwards just underneath the nose,, and suggests a device for receiv ing the drip from that organ during a cold in the head. In the case of one old hag the pelele was quite as large as, and exactly resembled in appearance, the brim of the lowest segment of a pocket telescope- drinking-cup.' On August II the party halted at the river-side, 1 Tropical Africa, p. 21. iET. 31] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 1 99 where for two seasons Chipitula's people have come to manufacture salt. The natives tried to hide from the white men the locality of the soil from which they extracted the brine ; but a troop of women coming in laden with the soil, and ' the natives, seeing the clue to the mystery was in our hands, accepted the situa tion with great merriment, and a boy was despatched to conduct us to the spot. 'There are two characteristics of the natives. They are full of secrets. Of the white man they stand in constant awe, which in practical matters becomes sus picion, and makes them continually on their guard in case he should take some advantage of them. Ac cordingly they always refuse to give him information when the object for which the inquiries are asked is not perfectly patent to them. In this case no amount of explanation could have given them any satisfaction, and it would have been impossible to drive the idea out of their heads that we either wanted to make salt ourselves or would work some charm upon it which would spoil the supply for them for all time to come. The second peculiarity is their fondness for everything in the shape of a joke. The unexpected procession of salt-bearers, whose whole appearance showed that they had only travelled a short distance at the very moment they were protesting the salt came from far on the other side of the river, was plainly a case of " caught," and like children they simply laughed heartily all round. ' Sunday, Aug. 1 2th. — On the Shire above Ka- tunga's, the terminus of the steamer's voyage, and beginning of the road of sixty-five miles up the Shire cataracts. ' The valley here is fine and rich, and heavy crops might be expected. On reaching the edge of the val- 200 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 ley the hills begin to rise at once, and one has a good climb for the next three-quarters of an hour(.?). The rock is granite (grey) and gneiss, and a few yards from the plain the geological eye is refreshed by the sight of a good, honest whin dyke. It ran right up the hill, about a yard wide, with the prismatic structure well developed. I find this only the precursor of many other dykes, some of considerable size, and the amount of basalt strewn over the hills almost surprised me. It seemed to have left its influence on the soil even more than the granite in many places where the underlying rock was undoubtedly granite. The stain of iron quite colours the soil over all these hills. I should describe these lower hills as consisting of granite and gneiss, riddled with basalt dykes of the ordinary type. (This applies to the entire section as far as Blantyre and onward.) ' On the 13th, in good health, none of them having had the least touch of fever, the travellers reached Mandala, a station of the Lakes Company, and were welcomed by Mr. and Mrs. John Moir to their house, ' the largest for some hundreds of miles on the one side and some thousands of miles on the other. The Blantyre mission is a mile off.' At Mandala, Drum mond had to wait a month, as the Lake Nyasa steamer had just started for the north and could not return within that time. He spent part of the interval in the excursion to Lake Shirwa, or Chilwa, described in the second chapter of his volume. His companions were Messrs. Hedderwick and Henderson of the Blantyre mission ; they had a small caravan of ten porters, an interpreter, a boy cook, and a youth whom Drummond constituted his body- servant. ¦^T. 32] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 20I To His Mother ' Sept. 5th, 1883. '. . . At Zomba on the Sabbath we had a service for the natives — the real Missionary Record kind of thing; white men with Bibles under a spreading tree, surrounded by a thick crowd of naked natives. We sang hymns from a hymn-book in the native tongue to Scotch psalm tunes, and then spoke through an interpreter. Unfortunately the service was brought to rather an abrupt con clusion. I had just finished speaking when a tremendous shriek rose from the crowd, and the congregation dispersed in a panic in every direc tion. A huge snake had fallen from the tree right into the thick of them. A bombsheh could not have done its work faster, but no one was hurt, and the beast disappeared like magic be neath some logs. The snakes rarely do harm, and I have never heard of a serious case.' From Mandala, on September loth, he wrote his father in strong praise of the Blantyre Mission,^ and of the Company's treatment of the natives, and the letter concludes thus : — ' Summer has well begun here, but I have never felt the heat. I am thankful to say also that my health is better than it has been for a long time, and I have no doubt I shall be better every way for this long and strange break. If all goes weH this expedition will be of life-long service to me in my college work, and I hope also I may have a voice some day in our Foreign Missionary Com mittee.' 1 Tropical Africa, p. 124. 202 PIENRY DRUMMOND [1883 After some delay two hundred carriers were engaged for the portage to the steamer, and on September 1 1 Drummond started with Dr. and Mrs. Scott and Mr. Bain. The Lake and the voyage upon it are described in the second chapter of Tropical Africa. But the following are some extracts from his journal not in cluded there : — ' 12th Sept. — Matope being honoured with a place in the map, we expected to find a centre of some importance. The reality is a few grass huts on the river-flat. Its interest for us was centred in two slen der white poles rising above the largest of the huts — the Company's store — which we rightly conjectured to be the masts of the Ilala. We were welcomed on board by Mr. Harkiss, and found lunch spread for us inside the hut. The river looked tempting for a bathe, but in the Shire generally the attentions of the crocodiles are too assiduous to risk, and this place is particularly infamous. The natives are afraid even to stand near the water's edge, and the villagers have to get all their supplies of water by scooping it up in pumpkin ladles with a handle of bamboo cane some eight feet long. I saw the tsetse fly here for the first time. It is found on the Mandala road as far as the Luangwa [?]. But for this we should have been helped on our way by the Mandala donkeys, which dare not venture in this direction more than a few miles from Blantyre, though they go to Katunga's with impunity. We went to sleep to-night amidst a perfect chorus of hippopotami. Their heads were rising like buoys all up and down the river — the female a red buoy, the male black. Shooting at these ironclads with any ordinary rifle is simply a waste of ammunition. On her last voyage some got between the Ilala and the Mr. 32] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 203 bank while moored close in shore, and at a few paces' distance two bullets from an " Express " were sent into parts that ought to have been vital, but the animal waded coolly ashore and disappeared as if nothing had happened. Their vocal performances are somewhat stale by this time, and are by no means musical. First the creature slowly heaves his square skull above water and gives vent to a tremendous sniff, as if he had just caught a severe cold in the head. This seems to relieve his vocal organs of a considerable quantity of water, and he straightway proceeds to fill the vacancy with air. This he draws in with a series of terrific grunts suggestive of a huge trombone worked by a blast furnace, and sufficiently startling when heard at close quarters. The performance con cludes by the creature raising himself bodily in the water almost up to the middle, and this achieved he sinks out of sight with a sudden plunge. ' My beard is now of age, and I look very old and important. 'Thursday, 13th Sept. — The Ilala was off by ten, with thirty on board, all told. This included our own party — Dr. and Mrs. Scott, and Mr. Bain ; seven boys from Bandawe who had been sent by Dr. Laws to be vaccinated at Blantyre (the lymph at Ban dawe being exhausted and smallpox raging); seven men who are to accompany me to Tanganyika; Jingo, Chessiemaleera, Mrs. Scott's native maid, Mr. Har kiss, Mr. Wells, "Bandawe," the "steward," native deck hands, stokers, etc. ' Two or three hours' steaming brought us to Pimbe, where limestone is said to be found. It is being tried just now at Mandala; and as I was anxious to see it in situ, I got a native to take me to the place. We struck across a flat at the back of the smafl 204 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 village for half a mile, and then reached a low range of hills running almost parallel to the river, and a few miles in length. We skirted the base of these for another half-mile and then crossed a small wood ridge into a dry watercourse occupying a valley of some little depth. Among the boulders of this dried " burn " blocks of limestone were scattered in con siderable quantity. The surrounding rock was gneiss, but the bed of limestone could not have been far off, as the hills were of small size. I did not wish to detain the steamer, or would certainly have followed it up to the limestone. It is a dazzling white marble with black mica in small spangles scattered through it. In the bed of the stream I also found blocks of fine basalt, and a good deal of quartz was lying all over the hills. ' 14th Sept. — Towards the head of Lake Pomalombe the hills approach on the east side. Large trees clothe the flats along their bases, among them a number of fan-palms, but few of any size. The few miles of winding river between Lake Pomalombe and Nyasa traverse a country of great beauty. The baobab, tamarind, and fan-palm grow in profusion, and shelter one or two of the largest villages I have yet seen in Africa. One of the largest of these is M'Ponda's, exquisitely situated among trees on the slope of the west bank. A bold spur of red granite on the oppo site side runs to within half a mile of the water's edge. Behind this are ranges of low hills, succeeding one another in an unbroken line as far as the eye can reach. A similar range rises in the distance behind M'Ponda. As it stretches away northward the hills increase into the mountains which mark the south west end of Lake Nyasa, and under a spur of which nestles Livingstonia. We passed through this on a ^T. 32] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 205 fine afternoon, the cool breeze from the distant lake tempering the heat and giving to the whole journey the aspect of a tour among the English lakes. But for the difference in the vegetation, palpable only at close quarters, the sudden apparition of a hippopota mus crossing the steamer's bows, or the spectacle of a naked savage fishing in his canoe, there is nothing in the general surroundings of the upper Shire to remind one that he is out of Europe. The villages, however, are certainly unlike anything one has ever seen before. There is one above M'Ponda's, occupy ing nearly half a mile of the river-bank. The huts are huddled together for the most part without any attempt at order, a few being reduced to something like neatness by a high stockade, which gives in the distance to the whole the appearance of an English cottage with its garden. At close quarters, however, the huts are more like the moss summer-houses one finds in country seats than human habitations. They are all of the same toadstool pattern, and miniature toadstools are often built at the side to form barns. Smaller toadstools still are built on high piles and connected with the ground by rude ladders. These are the fowl-houses, which have to be garrisoned in this fashion for fear of leopards, wild-cats, hyenas, and other beasts of prey. ' i6th Sept. — At ten native service in the school; large turnout of natives and my men from Ilala. Mr. Harkiss conducted, and gave an address. After dinner we went to a native funeral.-^ The cortege had come a couple of miles, and were waiting for the white men under some trees. They consider it a great honour to have white men present on such an occasion, and have been used to it in the mission 1 Cf Tropical Africa, p. 155. 2o6 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 days. The body — a native in his prime — was merely wrapped in calico (his own suit), and placed in two palm-mats, formed into a litter with two rough branches, and carried by four men. The burial-place was the wood behind the station at the rise of the hill. The funeral itself was interesting as a mixture of the heathen and Christian mode of sepulture. Had it been in the old days it would have been very dif ferent, but the whole of the tribes are gradually " reverting to type." The grave was at least ten feet deep by eight in length. Some sixty natives stood round about, an equal number of women remaining in the background about fifty yards off. Two long strips of bark were laid across the grave — a copy and reminiscence of the ropes used by the English. These ropes were held by four natives while the body was slowly lowered. This was done with great decorum, and up to this point the funeral might have been that of an Englishman conducted by his countrymen. But now commenced the heathen or native ceremonies. First, the dead man's two knives were handed down to the two men who stood beside the corpse in the unfilled grave. These were placed beside the body. His bow and arrows followed — the bow with the bow string cut across with a knife, a most touching symbol. Then, with some ceremony, his pipe, the long stem covered with blue and white beads, was laid beside his head. Next followed a laree calabash cooking;- vessel, a smaller one with a handle used as a drinking- cup, two baskets — one large and one small. These were arrayed about the body. About a foot above the body a groove was cut in the earth all round, and into this were then fitted a number of strong sticks. These were then covered with leaves and twigs, and all was ready for the soil to be thrown in. J£r. 32] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 207 The mounds of earth were slowly scraped in with the small native hoes, assisted by a shovel borrowed from the Mission. When all was finished two field baskets were broken up with an axe and thrown upon the grave. By this time I began to realise what all this meant. It was the burial with the dead of all his earthly possessions. This man probably owned not another article in the world. I never realised so much as here the absolute simplicity of the native life. Even the unsmoked tobacco was to be laid over his ashes. It was strewn near a small fire kindled under a tree, but when we tried to find out the exact mode in which it was to be disposed of the information was refused. Chimlolo told us they would come back and finish that part of the ceremony when we had gone. No word was spoken by the natives of the nature of a service. They were mostly grave, sober-looking men in middle life, and the faces of some were fine and intelligent. A white man's funeral in Scot land could scarcely have been attended by more intel ligent-looking men, and one could not help feeling keenly for them in what they lacked. All the native graves around had their pots and baskets over them — some had empty cases from the English — all holed. ' Chimlolo, on this occasion, was dressed in his best Sunday clothes, and nothing could illustrate better the folly of encouraging the natives to don European garments. He had on an ancient and discoloured tweed coat over his naked body, a pair of rough pilot- cloth trousers over his naked feet, and on his head a faded green helmet, which bore the legend "31st Lan arkshire Rifle Volunteers." Yesterday, with his fine frame wrapped in his robes, he looked every inch a chief. To-day he was a perfect object. He resembled 208 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 nothing so much as the negro loafers who lounge about the quays in the Southern States.' On the 19th September the //«/« reached Bandawe, the central mission station of the Free Church of Scotland. Drummond's visit and the communion service in which he participated are described in Tropical Africa} To' his Father 'Karonga's, N. End of Lake Nyasa, Sept. 28, 1883. ' . . . We stayed at Bandawe from Thursday at mid night till Monday at midday. . . . Dr. Laws goes home in a month. He has been seven years here without a break, and much needs a holiday. . . . The native service on Sunday was a grand sight. Five or six hundred were present, all squatting on the ground and listening with all their might. I had the pleasure of talking to them a lot. Dr. Laws translating. There was also a good Sunday- school and an English service in the evening, which I took. These were sad days for the Mission, however. The steamer had gone round to a bay twenty miles up the coast for repairs, and came back on Saturday with the flag floating at the half-mast. All knew that this meant death, and a crowd gathered on the beach. It was too stormy for a landing, and no boat or canoe could venture out, so we waited in suspense. At length a board was hoisted, on which the telescope was at once focussed. In chalk we read the words, " Mr. Stewart." The steamer had met some na tives coming down the Lake shore from here, and they brought the news. Mr. Stewart's name 1 Page 148. ^T. 32] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 209 you must have heard. He is a civil engineer, and was at the head of the operatives on Mr. James Stevenson's road from here to Tangan yika. He laid out Livingstonia, Blantyre, and Bandawe, and has been a foremost figure in mission work in Africa for several years. He is a cousin of Dr. Stewart of Lovedale. On reach ing this place, we found the flag on the store also half-mast, so we knew it was too true. He died of a complaint contracted by a residence in India — jaundice. He lies near where I write, under a huge baobab tree. He chose the spot himself only six weeks before for the captain of the Ilala, over whom he read the burial service, one other white man only being present. One of the Com pany's men had to do the same service for him. I was looking forward with great pleasure to meeting him here. He has few relations living, only a sister, Mrs. Vartan of Nazareth. ' We were from Monday to Thursday in getting here. This included a whole day on shore cut ting wood. The men are now busy unloading our things, and I think I shall get under way to-morrow. Bain may possibly wait here for a fortnight yet, as things are not quite ready for him at Mweni-wanda. But if he came, he would only accompany me some fifty miles farther. He is very well and in capital spirits. His manse will be something to look forward to on his home ward march. My caravan is almost ready for the start. I brought twenty men with me in the steamer, and will not need many more. Some were brought from Mandala, the rest from Ban dawe. Dr. Laws has given me one of his best natives to act as captain over the men. "James" 2IO HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 is a really trustworthy man, and I am very fort unate in having got him, though he knows no English. He was one of three natives who sat down to the Lord's Table with us on Sabbath last at Bandawe. I have got a thoroughly good tent and any quantity of provisions and calico (money), and I think the journey wiU be most enjoyable. After this is over, I shall track home wards as rapidly as possible.' Drummond started from Karonga's on Septem ber 29, and began his tramp northwards across the plateau towards Lake Tanganyika. He left white men behind him. He had a caravan of twenty-eight blacks, including his three faithfuls — Jingo, Moolu, and Seyid. Not one could speak a word of English. ' They belonged to three different tribes, and spoke as many languages ; the majority, however, know some thing of Chinyanja, the Lake language, of which I also had learned a little, so we soon understood each other.' Drummond has given, in Chapter V. of Tropical Africa, some extracts from his diary on this journey, illustra tive of his general experiences. The following addi tions are taken, some from the same source, others from his letters home. After entering the fringe of hills, bordering the higher lands as described on page 92 of Tropical Africa, he took some geological notes. 'Sept. 29th. — A herd of cows browsing along the banks and the newly cut road give to this part quite a homelike character. For about two miles the road winds along with the stream through a richly wooded valley. The mark of the pick is still fresh upon the great rocks which flank the narrow glen, and here are Mt. 32] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 2 I I not only the best, but the only artificial, geological sec tions in Central Africa. The hills rise high above the river on either side, and their structure is evident from a hundred well engineered bits of the road as it cuts room for itself alongside the river channel. A fine study in metamorphic rocks. (Bits of mica-schist of many varieties alternate with bands of quartzite ?) These beds are all thin, seldom more than a few yards, and are pitched at a very high angle, in several places being all but vertical. Gneiss also gradually appears, and the different rocks alternating repeatedly add con siderable variety to the section. Scarcely two of the beds are alike. Here is a coarse schist (granite ?) with plates of black mica three inches in length. Next it a band of the most pellucid quartzite. A variegated bed of waving gneiss follows, to be succeeded by a schist (granite), in which the flakes of mica are so small as only to be distinguishable by their mass. (Others of the schists are strongly talcose ?) The quartzites run through every shade from white to iron brown, one very beautiful variety being a delicate salmon pink. I describe these thus minutely, for in another year or two the geologist may look for them in vain, or only expose a fresh section with much labour. All these varieties may be found within half a mile, and probably a hundred yards might be found in which the whole series was represented. ' Sept. 30th. — Rested all day, being Sabbath. Held service in the morning with the men. They gathered in front of my tent after breakfast, I sitting on a box at the door. Gave out a hymn verse by verse, from Dr. Laws's book, three or four joining in the singing to the tune of " Scots wha hae " (!). I then read the Lord's Prayer in Chinyanja, the natives repeating as they have been taught at the Mission service. Then 212 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 James gave a short address which I should have given a great deal to have fully understood. We then sang another hymn, " Come to the Saviour " ; I offered prayer in English, and James closed with prayer in Chinyanja, or rather Atonga. ' This day month, August 30th, Mr. James Stewart died in this place — a hundred yards, I beheve, from where I write. ' Wednesday, Oct. 3rd. — After crossing the valley, the path — the road is not cut here yet — struck over a steep ridge of sedimentary rocks, coarse sandstones, or fine conglomerates, with one or two beds of lime stone. We then descended into another long and narrow valley in which lay the dry bed of a consider able stream. The path follows this for a mile, but leaves it shortly after a stagnant pool is passed, the road recommencing at this point. It is freshly made, and winds up the hill in long sweeping curves. Fresh exposures of purple, chocolate, and dark red sandstone occur on the roadside. These evidently belong to the same series as those in the opposite valley. They are all inclined toward the earth at an angle of about 35°. They soon give place to the old series of gneisses and granites which occupy the country now as far as Mweni-wanda, possibly as far as Tanganyika. These granitised beds are exposed in all the burns (all dry), which are numerous along the line of march. They are all pitched at a very high angle — all but vertical. Quartz predominates apparently in the composition of the granite, and the path is littered with quartz peb bles. In this respect the rocks probably differ from the Blantyre beds, where there is an unusually large proportion of black mica, which accounts for the greater fertility of the latter district. From Mara- moura to Kamera the country cannot be described as ^T. 32] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 2 I 3 poor ; the soil is thin and strong, covered with trees of a uniform height of about twenty feet, thinly planted, with grass and underwood not luxuriant. Large trees are absent. The general features of the country are the same as far as the eye can reach on either side, undulating hills of thin forest unvaried by any excep tionally distinctive features. The " billows " are all well rounded, and present their long axis towards the lake which receives their drainage.' Under the same date occurs the following interest ing note upon African habits: — 'After leaving the sandstones (a short distance) the new road is left to the right, the men insisting on striking across country, but in reality the road is only made for a few hundred yards farther. I do not sup pose the roadway is constructed much farther, but at any rate it proved a superfluity in this case. Mr. Ross, one of the engineers at work on the road, told me that his own men who had helped to make it, in taking him to Karonga's (where I met him, the inci dent happened that very morning), left the road at one point to cross a hill by the native path instead of rounding it by the road. He recalled them at once, a fine sense of loyalty to the undertaking, but on sight ing the point of re-convergence he was disgusted to see the tail of his caravan defiling into the main road, and now considerably in advance of him, although they were formerly too far behind to hear the order. These natives were all carrying heavy loads. Even where they use the road they never vary their cus tom of walking in Indian file, so that a beaten path exists in the centre of the road itself. The difference between the English road and the native's path is simply this — the former, made with line and level, is straight in detail but winding as a whole; the latter. 214 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 made by naked feet and instinct, is winding in detail but straight as a whole. The native strikes a bee- line to his destination, but the exigencies of the case, the avoidance of trees, logs, and large stones, cause it to be irregular throughout.' ^ On the 3d and 4th of October Drummond noted the almost entire absence of water from the country through which he was passing, till he struck the main stream, an enticing little river, and fine volume of water. 'The path crosses it at some gneiss blocks. I spent the rest of the day plashing and wading about the river-bed. 'Towards nightfall a small native caravan arrived at the crossing and camped on the opposite bank. I ^ound it was a sub-chief under Mweni-wanda, whose name is Wanimaver, travelling to the coast. The old fellow came across to pay his respects to the white man, accompanied by two or three of his counsellors. A native carried a small stool, which he placed for him in front of my tent. I did not know the natives enjoyed this luxury, but probably the age of the chief demanded it. He told me he was ill, and was on his way to a medicine man at Karonga's village. I shared my cocoa with him, and presented him with a little salt and a needle. He seemed much awed all through the interview. Next morning he was over by daylight to wish me good-by. He seemed a simple, kindh'-, childlike old man, quite the chief in appearance. His sole garment was a maize-coloured and faded drab loin cloth. His men, meantime, were up the trees adjoining the river throwing down great branches, with which they soon made him a very pretty bower by the river's brink. The camp-fire twinkling through this; the native music played before the tent — a sere- ^ Cf. Tropical Africa, pp. 34-36. I£^. 32] EAST CENfRAL AFRICA 2 1 5 nade to the chief by three voices and some stringed instrument ; the brawling river ; the young moon and the bright starlight, — made up a very pretty tableau for my after-supper smoke on the grass by my own camp-fire.' On Friday, 5th, he arrived at Kamera, and on the 6th at Mweni-wanda's village, and Chirenje, 'a future Free Church station.' There he paid his men, and checked Mr. Bain's goods which arrived by another, caravan. He stayed in the rough mission-house for a week, shooting, collecting, talking with Mweni-wanda, and entertaining Mr. Grifiiths, of the London Mis sionary Society, on his way home from his station on Lake Tanganyika. On Friday, the 12th, he started again and travelled that and the next day by the Stevenson road till it stopped at 18J miles — 'a fine avenue through a level or gently undulating country.' His camp was at Zockye's village. 'After a twenty- mile tramp in the sun, this village, with its dirty water, its shocking sanitary conditions, almost shadeless stream, and staring crowds, was simple torture, and I confess the reasons against enduring other forty days of it by going on to Tanganyika seemed at that moment most convincing.' Next day he moved on to the camp beyond Chewakunda, where he spent the week so beautifully described on pages 109 ff. of Trop ical Africa. In addition to the observations recorded there he read a number of books, ' Howells's Undis covered Country, Old Mortality, Miss Edwards's Modern Poets, and much of the Revised Version.' 'On Monday, ist, service as usual, James (Moolu) very eloquent on " Lazarus." ' They started (as Trop ical Africa says, page 11 2) on the 2 2d and marched northwest. 'This day the tropics have dried up my stylograph.' The next part of the diary is in pencil. 2i6 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 He stalked, shot at, and missed some fine hartbeest. He was going to sit down, when, in the very place he had chosen, he ' Observed a curious patter among the leaves. It was a puff adder. I drew my revolver and shot it, but the brute slowly sank down the bank and lay down, as I thought, to die, by the water. Some hours after, when I sent for it, it was gone. A day or two later my men were frightened to death by finding it at the pool where they drew water for the camp. It was still alive, but I finished it with another shot. It was not very lengthy, but very fat in the girth. The men said it was a python, but I have my doubts, especially as they also said its bite was certain death — a fact which was quite evident from the shape of the jaws. It had two bags on the side of its head with poison enough to kill a village.' The journal for October 24 and 25 is fully given in Tropical Africa. Till the 30th they stayed (because of the bearer wounded by the buffalo) in the same 'enchanting camp,' and then 'steered west and south west up a valley running into the Lejange, with steep sides. The main rock is gneiss, but here and at the former camp there are beds of mica schist, very hard and compact for schists, however.' They crossed the watershed of the range, descended a little, and camped eight miles from their previous camp at about 4900 feet above the sea. On October 31 he sent back to Mweni-wanda for a medicine chest and 'some books, as my small box was read to death. Spent Monday studying White Ants. There was much thunder, and rain fell uninterruptedly from three to six, but as it was not heavy my tent held out.' •^T. 32] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 2 I 7 But the rainy season had commenced and it was time to turn. On the 24th of October he had written home : — ' I started from the Lake with thirty-two men, most of them from a distance, but I had to engage some local men to take extra loads. I had the universal fate of African travellers, for a number deserted at the first hill. I got their places filled, but gradually the local men dropped off, and now I have only seventeen left. These are all good men and true, but I have had to leave many stores at a log cabin at Mweni-wanda. The crippling of my caravan made me consider seriously whether I ought to go the whole way to Tanganyika, and you will perhaps be glad to hear that I have decided to turn now. I am within 130 or 140 miles of it, but the rainy season is due immediately and I should catch it coming back in all its fury. I have enjoyed such perfect health that I do not think it is right to run un necessary risk. I could probably weather anything in my tent, but my men would suffer severely. They are not accustomed to this high country, and already many of them have had fever. Scarcely a day passes but I have to doctor some of them. Besides this, the rest of the way is just the same thing over again, and it would be dreary work toiling all the way back over exactly the same ground. All things considered, therefore, I have resolved to wander slowly back to Nyasa and make my way to Quilimane as the rain per mits. I may weather out the first plumps in the aforesaid log cabin, which is to be Bain's manse and where he will now be. Word will be sent there 2l8 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 when the Ilala arrives at Karonga's to take me down the Lake again.' Besides, as he confessed afterwards, he was beginning to feel lassitude and depression, the precursors of fever, though he did not yet know them as such. On October 31 they moved to a deserted village and felt safe from wild beasts behind its stockade. The wounded man was still in evil plight. They remained there till November 3, when a letter came from Mr. Bain, with a postscript from Mr. Fred Moir (returning from Tanganyika), that they would wait for Drummond at Mweni-wanda. Carrying the wounded man in a litter he reached Mweni-wanda on November 5 and stayed till the 14th. 'Moir and Lieutenant Pully went off to shoot elephants at Kimbashi. Much tempted to go with them. The steamer went for their mails after they had been five or six days in the field. They sent eighteen tusks back, capital sport.' On November 15 he started for the Lake and on the 1 8th camped fifteen miles from it beside Mr. Munro, the engineer who was at work on the road, and Mr. Bain, who like himself was waiting for the steamer. It was here that he made his discovery of fossils — he believes ' the only fossils that had ever been found in Central Africa.' They lay in ' thin beds of very fine light grey sandstone and blue and grey shales, with an occasional band of grey limestone — but especially in the shale, one layer being one mass of small Lamellibranchiata. Though so numerous, these fossils are confined to a single species of the Tellinidcs, a family abundantly represented in tropical seas at the present time and dating back as far as the Oolite. Vegetable remains are feebly represented by a few reeds and grasses.' ^ 1 Tropical Africa, ' A Geological Sketch,' p. 192. Mr. 32] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 219 But here is his journal : — 'Monday, Nov. 19th. — Terrific thunderstorm with heavy rain broke out late last night. I awoke, lit a candle, and sat watching for the first sign of leakage in my tent. A trench had been dug all round, but the slope of the road made a perfect torrent sweep past, and I had to keep building up the banks. One trench ran parallel with my bed, as the side of the tent was tilted aside to meet the hill, so that I could see from where I lay the brown torrent sweeping sticks, leaves, and insects before it. The wind rose to a hurricane, and I was afraid every moment I would be unroofed and left to weather the storm in the open. But my tent behaved bravely and the com bined elements failed to dislodge me. A few drops only got through. Bain, who shared Munro's tent, was less fortunate, in spite of his tent having a good fly. The rain soon penetrated both fly and canvas and flooded him out of bed at midnight. They were in a terrible plight all night, and Bain was down with fever in consequence a couple of days after. ' On the Sunday morning, when sitting at breakfast on the newly made road, I saw at my feet a small slab of slate with markings which struck me at once as familiar. I eagerly seized it, and saw before me a fos sil fish. I had marked this very spot on my way up country as a place for a possible " find " in this direc tion, and I had planned to spend two or three days here fossil-hunting on my way back. I had little idea that so fine a section would be waiting me ; and the road- cutting here was a most singular coincidence, as this was the only mile of rock between Tanganyika and the mouth of the Zambezi where I should have wished such a thing, or where I would have expected to find fossils. Monday, therefore, I devoted to a regular 2 20 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 fossil-hunt, but I am sorry to say with no very satisfac tory result as far as fish were concerned. I got sev eral teeth, however, innumerable fish-scales, and a great number of shells, these last all belonging to a single species. I set all the boys to work, and offered a knife to whomsoever would bring me a fish, but although several of them worked hard they all failed.' The fossil fish remains were submitted to Dr. Traquair of Edinburgh, whose identification of them is given in full in Tropical Africa, pages 193-195. He says of the largest : — '. . . Belonging to the order Ga-noidei, this fish is with equal certainty referable to the family PalcBo-niscidce, but its genus is more a matter of doubt, owing to the fragmentary nature of the specimen. Judging from the form and thickness of the scales I should be inclined to refer it to Acrolepis, were it not that the dorsal and anal fins seem so close to the tail, and so nearly opposite each other ; here, however, it may be remarked that the disturbed state of the scales affords room for the possibility that the original relations of the parts may not be perfectly preserved. I have, however, no doubt that, as a species, it is new ; and as you have been the first to bring fossil fishes from those regions of Central Africa, you will perhaps allow me to name it Acrolepis {f) Dru-mmmtdi. ' No. 2 is a piece of cream-coloured limestone with numer ous minute, scattered rhombic, striated, ganoid scales, which I cannot venture to name, though I believe them to be palseo- niscid. . . . Among these minuter relics is a scale of much larger size, and clearly belonging to another fish. A little way off is the impression of the attached surface of a similar scale, and there are also two interspinous bones probably belonging to the same fish. This is probably also a palaeoniscid scale, which we may provisionally recognise as Acrolepis {?) Afri- caniis. . . . No. 5 is a piece of grey, micaceous shale, with scales of yet a fourth species of palaeoniscid fish ; . . . the outer surface not being properly displayed, renders it impos sible to give a sufficient diagnosis. No. 6 is a piece of the ^T. 32] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 221 same shale having the clavicle of a small pal^oniscid fish, which it is, however, impossible to name.' 'These fossiliferous beds,' adds Drummond, ' seem to occupy a comparatively limited area, and to have a very high dip in a southeasterly direction. At the spot where my observations were taken they did not extend over more than half a mile of country, but it is possible that the formation may persist for a long distance in other directions. Indeed, I traced it for some miles in the direction in which, some fifty or sixty miles off, lay the coal already described,^ and to which it may possi bly be related.' It was in the same camp, twelve miles north of Ka ronga's, that Drummond made a discovery of a very different kind, and one of greater personal interest to himself, — the phenomenal success among his country men of his book on Natural Law, while he had been wandering in these savage regions. 'Thursday, Nov. 22d. — After I had gone to roost, sometime about midnight I was aroused by talking in Munro's tent. Could it be the arrival of natives with the mails from the coast ? " Mails," came in response to my shout ; and in a few moments a boy came in with a huge packet of letters and papers. My lamp was lit in a twinkling and I was for the next three hours de vouring the first news I had had from home for five months. Letters from all the family twice over, as the bag contained two months' despatches. Spectator with critique enclosed — which much surprised me. I had almost forgotten about the book ! Sleep was hard after so much interesting news, and it was early morning be fore I dropped over.' On the 26th they marched for Karonga's, ' Bain very weak with fever, so our progress was very slow.' After three days at Karonga's they embarked on the Ilala on the 29th, and coasted along till opposite the re- 1 Tropical Afi-ica, -p-p. 187, 188. 222 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883 ported coal-bed south of Mount Waller. ' Landed and spent the afternoon among the coal. Stewart's descrip tion is accurate as regards the topography, but he is wrong geologically.' The matter is fully discussed in Tropical Africa, pages i88, 189, with the conclusion that ' the Lake Nyasa coal, so far as opened up at present, can scarcely be regarded as having any great economical importance, although the geological inter est of such a mineral in this region is considerable.' ' Probably,' he says in his journal, ' the coal is a mere fragmentary portion thrown down by a " fault." ' On November 30 he was at Deep Bay, where they slept on shore through heavy rain that nearly put out their carriers' fires. ' This was about midnight. It is wonderful how they manage to keep hold on " motu " (fire) under the most trying circumstances. The rain was enough to quench anything, but they must have kept some embers screened in their hands, which they had carried to the hut and back.' On December i (with a ton of ivory aboard) they anchored at Bandawe, partook of the Lord's Supper at the service next day (Sunday), and witnessed the bap tism of five native converts. Sailing down the Lake with Dr. and Mrs. Laws on board, they reached Ma tope on December 8, and stayed there, waiting for car riers, till the 1 3th, ' killing time and catching fever.' On the 14th they camped in rain at the first stream to the south of Matope. ' Dec. 15th. — Off with the sun, walked hard till 10 o'clock, when we reached stream and took breakfast. Then all started for Blantyre, still 10 or 12 miles off. I was last to leave, as I felt lazy — the same inertia that I had so often felt up country, and which I now knew to be incipient fever. Lay down, with Jingo and another of my men with the N'tonga, a few hundred ^T. 32] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 223 yards from the start, and rested quite two hours. Meantime a thunderstorm was raging ahead, and the rain threatened to reach us every moment. However, we had not a drop; but I had not gone 500 yards before the ground became quite wet, and we were soon almost wading in the stream of muddy water which rushed down the path. Rain itself we had none. There might have been five or six miles of this, and then, at the stream at Mulunga's village, the wet ground as suddenly ceased. I learned afterwards that Dr. Laws and the others had got over this rain-zone before it came on, and escaped quite dry. We both must have made a narrow escape. ' Stopped at the burn to make a hasty cup of tea, and had just finished when I saw Mr. Macllwain coming to meet me on one of the donkeys. I thanked him with all my heart, and after he had a cup of tea he walked by my side into Blantyre (four or five miles). At B. I was welcomed by Messrs. Scott, Henderson, Hedderwick, and all the staff, and, after a plate of soup at the Manse, went on to Mandala. 'Sunday, Dec. i6th. — Felt rather lazy about going to church, but, as I wished to go, a donkey was placed at my disposal, which I accepted. I felt unaccounta bly tired, but had no other symptom. In the evening I did not go out, but, feeling rather knocked up, went early to bed. Dr. Laws insisted that I had fever; and when I took my temperature and found it read a degree or two above the normal, 98.6, I was as much aston ished as disgusted. I took no medicine, but heaped on clothes to induce perspiration, which came in an hour or two and necessitated two or three changes of pyjamas. I had no sickness, but slight oppression and headache of a new variety, though not very severe. Slept fairly. 2 24 HENRY DRUMMOND ['884 ' Monday, Dec. 1 7th. — My fever was short-lived, though I kept my bed all day. I fancy I might have been up. Was glad to get it over. There seems now no doubt that I had a good deal of fever up country without my knowing it. Certainly I can now account better for the want of spirit, want of appetite, laziness, weakness, and general limpness which I felt so often. Indeed, for a month or six weeks, this was almost my normal state. Yet, at the time, I did not realise the extent of it, but set it down to sheer laziness. No doubt my cinchonised condition helped me greatly. 'Tuesday, Dec. i8th. — Up even to breakfast, though feeling a little weak and top-heavy. This giddiness remained all day.' There had been great illness at Blantyre while Drummond was up country, and the only two white children in the community had died. Drummond stayed a whole month at Mandala, hospitably enter tained by Mr. and Mrs. John Moir, and without advent ure or incident, save numerous cases of fever in the little colony, and the arrival of the first consul ap pointed to the region. Captain Foote, R.N., and his family. On January 15 Drummond started down stream for Katunga's, where his journal closes. He retraced his journey of some months before, descended the Shire and Zambezi, crossed the portage, and came down the Qua-qua in a boat with eight rowers to Quilimane — finding the country, because of the rains, in a very different aspect from that he had seen on his way up. ' My faithful Jingo was with me to the last. I had serious thoughts of taking him home, but at last reluc tantly resolvfed to leave him in Africa, as I felt sure he would weary away from his own tribe. He was a most useful servant, and every white person I met begged ^T. 32] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 225 me to hand him over to them when I left the country. Black servants very soon get spoiled, but my boy was awarded first prize by universal consent. He actually belonged to me as long as I was in the country ; and if I had wished to keep him, I should simply have had to send a few yards of cloth to his chief. I was really very sorry to part with poor Jingo, and he looked very lugubrious over it hkewise. He came on board with me, carrying my umbrella as his last service, and I took him round the great ship. He was utterly lost and bewildered, and I should give a good deal to hear his report to the natives up country of all the won ders he saw at Quilimane. It seems quite strange to be afloat once more, and I am almost as bewildered as poor Jingo ! ' From Quilimane Drummond sailed in the Currie liner Dunkeld to East London, which he reached on the 2 ist of February. In South Africa he visited King Williamstown, Pirie, and Lovedale, the famous mission-station under Dr. Stewart of the Free Church of Scotland, where he stayed the first half of March, Fort Beaufort, Grahamstown, Port Elizabeth, and Uitenhage, the home of his old college friend Pater son, who died there in 1875. Cape Town was 'dirty, windy, and city-like,' so he went to Wynberg — ' out of sight the loveliest place I have seen in South Africa ' — and spent a fortnight wandering about the base of Table Mountain. There he heard of the death of the Shire chief Chipitula, whom he had visited : shot in a quarrel by an English trader, who was also killed. ' This is a serious matter and may lead to further dis turbances, as the whites are all looked upon as one tribe, and the next European who passes will have to look out. I do not think the affair will be carried farther owing to circumstances, but there is no saying. 2 26 HENRY DRUMMOND [1883-84 Anyway I am glad to be now on the safe side of it. It is a rough country up there, say the best for it.' On the 9th of April he sailed from Cape Town, and by the end of the month was in England. Central Africa left a deep mark upon Drummond. He accomplished his mission and was able to give to the African Lakes Company a valuable report on the geology and resources of the great country which they were administering. He added infinitely to his knowledge of natural history, and did original work by his discovery of fossils and by his observations of the effect of white ants upon soil.^ But it was not along any of these lines that the country left its chief influence upon him. He had entered Africa in perfect health and at the best season ; with almost boyish glee he had revelled in his journey of exciting scenes and adventures as ' one continual picnic from first to last.' Then he met the first European graves — Mrs. Livingstone's, Bishop Mackenzie's, the pathetic cemetery at Old Livingstonia.^ He saw the mission aries laid down with fever, some like his compan ion, the heroic Bain, suffering in solitude hundreds of miles from another white man. The news of Stewart's sudden death smote him at Bandawe. A white mother died in childbirth — every white birth in Central Africa up to that time had cost a life — and the only two Brit ish children in the land died while he was up country. In short, Drummond saw all the cruel sacrifices, insepa rable from the first heroic assaults of Christianity upon the heathendom of the Dark Continent. He saw, too, the slave-trade in its most ghastly features, the cruel Arab dealer, the tracks dotted with human bones, the 1 See Tropical Africa, Chapter VI„ 'The White Ant: a Theory.' 2 Tropical Africa, pp. 15, 16, 22, 23, 41-45. Mr. 32] EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 227 stockades with human heads impaled on them. Then came his own fits of lassitude and depression, attacks of fever in his tent under the pitiless rain, and a month of weakness and inertia. All this marked him for life. When he returned to Scotland we noticed a splash of grey hair upon his head. And although be yond this he seems to have suffered from his African travel no other physical injury, there is little doubt that his spirit was affected by all he had seen and suffered. This is visible between his letters on arriving and his letters on leaving the Continent. It coloured his views on certain aspects of life and religion. Up till 1883 Drummond had never suffered personally, except from the long trial of uncertainty with regard to his vocation. He had never known loneliness. Death had not come into his family, and hardly within his sight. To a friend who had lost a little nephew in 1877 he had said, ' I cannot write on these things, for I know little of their reality or awful mystery.' But in Africa he learned to know. When on his work with Moody he had almost fiercely resented the statement of a speaker that suffering was inseparable from Chris tian service. But now he knew that it was so ; and I do not think it is a fault of memory to say that from 1884 onwards there came upon his always pure and sympathetic temper a certain tinge of sadness with which we had not been able to associate him in pre vious years. Upon his return to Scotland he said to a friend, ' I've been in an atmosphere of death all the time.' CHAPTER IX THE FAME OF NATURAL LAW While Drummond was in Central Africa his book achieved a most amazing popularity. No one was more amazed at it than himself. He had left Ensr- land within a week of its publication, in June, 1883, and was beyond all news till the following November. Then suddenly, one midnight, between Nyasa and Tanganyika, a bundle of letters was thrust into his tent. He jumped from bed, and, hastily lighting a candle, fed his long famine of tidings from home. Nothing had changed there except his own reputa tion. He read that his volume had passed immedi ately through a first and a second edition, that the reviewers were carried away by it, and that in especial the Spectator could recall ' no book of our time (with the exception of Dr. Mozley's University Sermons) which showed such a power of relating the moral and practical truths of religion, so as to make them take fresh hold of the mind and vividly impress the imagi nation.' This review enforced the already great popu larity of the volume; and, by the time Drummond reached England in the following May, the popularity had risen to fame. At the end of the eighth month seven thousand copies had been sold, and the circu lation still went up by leaps and bounds. The more important Reviews printed long articles upon Natural Law. While some of them disputed both its theories and conclusions, others considered it ' the most impor- 228 THE FAME 0¥ NATURAL LAW 229 tant contribution to the relations of science and religion which the century had produced ; ' and all attributed its extraordinary success ' to its undoubted merits, — the originality of its ideas and its style.' ' A pioneer book'; 'full of the germs and seeds of things'; 'a remarkable and important book, the theory which is enounced may without exaggeration be termed a discovery ' ; 'the reader is stirred to the depths of his spiritual nature ' ; ' an unspeakably fascinating volume,' — these are but a few drops of the almost weekly showers of praise which were poured upon Natural Law during the first year of its life. But not even such praise can measure the extent of its vogue among the people. The book was read almost everywhere. At the end of the second year thirty thousand copies had been sold ; at the end of the third, forty thousand ; at the end of the fifth, sixty-nine thousand, and still the numbers grew. To-day the sales have reached one hundred and twenty-three thousand in Great Britain alone. About this rush of public favour one fact is conspic uous — it was proportionally much greater in Eng land and in America than it was in Scotland. The principle that a prophet has less honour in his own country does not explain this, for no part of the Eng lish-speaking race exceeded in admiration for Drum mond his own countrymen, and especially his private friends. But the hostile criticism, which the main idea of the book had received from the Glasgow Club to which it was first communicated, was repeated nowhere more persistently than in Scotland, and by none with greater conviction than by a few of the author's closest companions. The causes of the immediate popularity of Natural Law are obvious. With the exception of a few pas- 2 3° HENRY DRUMMOND sages the book is beautifully written. But the clear and simple style is charged with an enthusiasm and carries a wealth of religious experience which capture the heart, and tempt the thoughtful reader to become indifferent to almost every prejudice which the intro duction has excited in his mind. A teacher who, with such gifts, founds his teaching upon the facts of Chris tian experience, is always sure of a welcome ; and the welcome wiU be the more cordial if he expounds these facts, as not arbitrary, but subject to reason and law — and this apart altogether from the question whether the laws he alleges be the true ones. When, besides, he deals with the relations of science and religion, he presents a subject that is not only of great intellectual interest to most persons of education, but to many thousands also is a topic of the most acute personal significance. Among the letters which Drummond received between 1883 and 1892 are a large number from men and women of all degrees of culture, whose faith, once strong, had been shattered by the new con victions of science, and who looked for the reconcilia tion of the claims of science with religion as they that look for the morning. Science had proved the uni verse to be subject to exceptionless laws ; and the form under which those persons had received religion — as if it were outside of reason and independent, if not defiant, of law — had collapsed beneath their im pressions of science. They were now not concerned whether Drummond made out a case for the special laws which he illustrated, nor whether his main thesis, that physical law continues within the spiritual sphere, had been proven. It was enough for them that they encountered a teacher who expounded, defended, and enforced their deepest religious experiences upon what appeared to be the dominant intellectual methods of THE FAME OF NATURAL LAW 23 1 their generation. There were also a number of scien tific men who had not passed through a definitely Christian discipline, and who called themselves agnos tic, but who yearned to receive from the methods they avowed gifts to the religious side of their nature, and a number of these also felt that what they needed they got from Drummond. Then, too, devout and poetic souls who rejoice in Nature as the sacrament and divine expression of spiritual truth, welcomed the book as though it were a consummate interpretation of this. And finally, there were crowds of commonplace men and women who were touched by neither the poetic nor the scientific spirit, but who were in need of the pure comfort, the shrewd counsel, and the lofty ideals in which the volume is rich, or who in their weariness of the world rested simply in its pure light and peace. Of all these classes, illustrations may be given from the heap of letters which the author of Natural Law received from every part of the world. To his biog rapher, who has gone through them, these letters have brought an almost overwhelming impression of the hunger of this generation for religion and the spiritual life. Next to Drummond's experiences during the Great Mission of 1873-75, this correspondence must have helped to develop his wonderful expertness in dealing with the men and women of his time in their religious needs and aspirations. The first letter we may take is one of scores of its kind. The writer gives her name and address in a town of New York State. The date is late, Decem ber 9, 1893, but Drummond had received many similar tokens within a year of the publication of the book. 'I know you are a grand good man, while I am only a poor working- woman ; but if you would really care to know, your book has comforted many a weary 232 HENRY DEUMMOND hour of my life. I have read it over and over again, thoughtfully, and sometimes prayerfully, until I know many of its pages by heart, and so can always have them with me to make me better, more thoughtful of my fellow-men, and more faithful to God. I thank you for giving it to the world, for I may have it to purify my heart and life. Your book is one of my treasures, and has made me realise and believe the most momentous truth that Christ must be in the Christian, and created a longing in my own heart to love Him more and serve Him better.' Another wrote, echoing beautifully the expressions of many: ' Your book has been a benediction to me; ' and numbers traced to it their conversion from wild and profligate lives, or from a careless and formal Christianity. The late Mr. Campbell Finlayson, in sending to Drummond his very able criticism of the volume, added that it ' has interested and stimulated the minds of many who, like myself, are unable to accept some of its conclusions.' But welcomes more specific than these were given by authorities in the departments both of science and religion. It was one Anglican divine who wrote the article in the Spectator. Another said enthusiasti cally, 'it was the best book he had ever read upon Christian experience.' Several men, well known for their contributions to theology, congratulated Drum mond on having placed the argument for the spiritual life upon a sound basis. One wrote thus in June, 1884: — ' I daresay from the seven thousand purchasers of your book on Natural Law you have had more letters than you care for, but I trust you will not allow this to deprive me of the pleasure of saying how deliohted I have been with it. I feel that you have added THE FAME OF NATURAL LAW 233 enormously to the avenues of my own spiritual exist ence, and therefore I warmly thank you for it. I re gard the application of your method as most meanful {sic), and think your conclusions impregnable. You have provided a splendid apparatus of additional inductive probability to show the existence of a spiritual world, which to those who are prepared to accept it must be final. I am not sure, however, of its effect upon those who start with the denial of its existence.' On the part of many men of science the book re ceived an immediate and a cordial welcome. A great London physician said of it in March, 1884: 'One of the best books I have ever read — I have given away six copies of it.' From this side take the following, written in July, 1883, — about a month after the book was published, — by one of the foremost authorities in his own branch of science : — 'My dear Sir, — I have just been reading with extreme interest your very able and suggestive book. Natural Law in the Spiritual World, and cannot refrain from writing you these few words of thanks for the strengthening of my own convictions, which you have given me. It is now many years since I felt that Christianity is not in harmony with the Science of Nature, and that to commend it to students of Nature some other mode of presentment was re quired. Long pondering over the question in my own case has led me through much difficulty and doubt and pain to see the matter just as you see it, and I can hardly say how glad I am to find these notions, or rather convictions, so cleariy and convin cingly set forth as they are in your work. I believe your book will be of inestimable value to many a troubled and distracted soul. Living as I did for 234 henry drummond many years a somewhat lonely life in the country, practically cut off from personal converse with fellow- workers, I yet was well aware that materialistic views of life were rampant amongst biologists, but until I came to to reside I was hardly prepared to find materialism so victorious. And yet among the many positivists with whom I have recently come in contact, there is much doubt and restlessness. Their religion of death and annihilation is not a religion of peace. And I have been quite touched by the avidity with which they will listen to any argument that seems to open for them a possible means of escape from their melancholy conclusion. One of my students, who called for me last Sunday evening, told me, with the tears in his eyes, that he would fain believe as his mother taught him, but that his scientific training would not let him. It is very sad to think how many hearts are breaking — how many souls are being eclipsed all around one. But the dawn, I feel assured, is breaking. I do not know any thoughtful Agnostic who does not doubt his own conclusions, and who would not readily escape them if he could. Such a book as yours will appeal with great force to all such, and it will give me the greatest pleasure to recom mend it to every thoughtful biologist I encounter.' These typical letters, which represent the kind of effect the book so suddenly produced, I give without the names of the authors, for some of them are dead, and some who live may no longer adhere to the opin ions they then expressed. It is remarkable, indeed, how many, both on the evangelical and the scientific sides of life, at first welcomed the book as a proof of religion and a reconciliation of her claims with those of science, but afterwards fell away from this opinion. Besides the gratitude which a book wins from those the fame of NATURAL LAW 235 whom it has helped in the hard struggle of head or heart, there are two other standards by which its power may be measured — the serious criticism which it calls forth from philosophic minds, and the fascina tion it creates upon all the restless race of faddists, quacks, ' cranks,' and monomaniacs in general. Natu ral Law in the Spiritual World triumphantly passed both of these tests. To take the latter first — I suppose Drummond had more correspondence with theorists and with dreamers than any other author of our generation. Their name was legion. A number hailed him with eerie joy as a fellow-spirit. They have been working, they write, for years in the same direction; they have reached the same conclusions by 'electro-biology,' 'medical psy chology,' 'mind-healing,' 'Christian science,' 'interpre tation of prophecy,' and I know not what else, and they are eager to point out defects and omissions in Drummond's arguments which can be repaired only by their peculiar methods. They are generally retired army officers, doctors without practice, dreamy school mistresses, lonely squatters. Some are retired profli gates, into whose minds, swept empty of vice but also destitute of principle, the devils of vanity, curiosity, audacity, paradox, and unreason appear to have rushed with riotous vigour. One extraordinary letter comes from a man who describes himself as ' fifty-nine years of age, converted at fifty-six from a life of sensuality,' and now recovering health and social usefulness through 'Christian Science,' to which he welcomes Drummond as a powerful adherent. Some offer the author an additional chapter in which his principle is applied to the phenomena of reproduction. Others tell him that he has sinned by forgetting the tri partite constitution of man, and disclose to him three 236 henry drummond analogies of life where he has discovered only two. And, of course, there are more than one — fortunately far away in Australia and the Western States of America — who propose marriage to him. It is all a curious chapter in the history of human delusions. Of a different class are those who claim Drum mond's adhesion to their own denomination or partic ular heresy. It was very natural that Swedenborgians should assert that many of his positions have been an ticipated in ' the divine correspondences ' of their mas ter; and no doubt they were right in pointing out that the Swedenborg's method of working down from the spiritual to the physical was preferable to Drum mond's of working up from the physical to the spirit ual. A similar claim with even more justice was made by the disciples of James Hinton. It was equally natural for those Christians who believe in the theory of conditional immortality — that short cut through many mazes — to read Natural Law as a corroboration of their creed. Perhaps the greatest number of letters which Drummond received upon his volume came from such promoters of the applica tion to the future life of the doctrine of ' the survival of the fittest.' Then the foes of ' Bibliolatry,' as they call it, congratulate him on having removed religion from a Scriptural basis, though they ' look with suspi cion upon his employment of so many texts ' to illus trate his arguments. The letters which criticise omissions in Natural Law are not only proofs of the unreasonableness of the writers, but form an impressive tribute to the power of a volume which could evoke such colossal expectations of what its author might have done, had he wiUed, in meeting the intellectual demands of his age. Many blame him for not settling all the great THE FAME OF NATURAL LAW 237 problems of religion and life. Upon a number ot these problems some letters dwell with an ignorance and a hunger which pathetically reveal how much in tellectual starvation may linger in our midst within sight and touch of the rich supplies that it desperately supposes do not exist. A squatter, writing from ' the lonely wilds of the Australian bush,' thanks Drum mond for ' a great intellectual treat,' but angrily asks him, — with pretty much the same petulance as a sav age beats his fetich or a mediaeval churchman used to sulk at his saint, — why he has not settled other diffi culties. Why has he not dealt with ' the atrocities of the Old Testament,' ^ ' with the miracles of the New,' ' with the virgin birth of Christ,' 'with the ultimate fate of the heathen,' — and so forth. The same questions followed Drummond wherever he lectured during the next ten years and were sent up on scraps of paper to every platform on which he appeared. ' What is your theory of the Atonement ? ' ' Can you explain it on the principles of your volume ? ' ' What place do you leave for free will ? ' ' Does man's immortality depend on the gift of free grace?' 'Why were the Jews, on your theory, specially selected by God ? ' ' Why was Jesus Christ born a Jew ? ' Every kind of question, soluble and insoluble, relevant and irrelevant to the volume, was thrown at the head of the author. But with some pertinence the questions on free will and 'conditional immortality ' far outnumber all the rest. The many gleams of reasonable objections to Nat ural Law which these letters and questions reveal were formulated with great ability, in a number of serious articles and pamphlets, the long list of which, though they are in the main hostile, bear unmistak able tribute to the impression made by the book on 1 See below, p. 400. 238 henry DRUMMOND the mind of our generation. Appended is a catalogue of the greater number.^ The most able and effective are the treatises by Mr. Campbell Finlayson and 'a Brother of the Natural Man.' I do not know who wrote the article in the British Quarterly; that in the Church Quarterly was, though generally hostile to Drummond's logic, by Mr. Lyttleton, the author of the previous article in the Spectator which had so largely helped to lift the book into fame. But, from the first. Natural Law encountered more than criticism of this honest and able kind. No volume of our time has provoked more bitter and pas sionate blame. It roused both the odium theologicum and that which is scarcely less savage, the odium scien- 1 I . Biological Religion ; an essay in criticism of ' Natural Law in the Spiritual World.' By T. Campbell Finlayson. London : Simpkin, Marshall, & Co. Bd. -zs. 2. On 'Natural La-w in the Spiritual World' , by a Brother of the Natural Man. Paisley: Gardner. Paper, is. 3. Drifting Away. Remarks on Professor Drummond's 'Natural Law in the Spiritual World.' By the Hon. Philip Carteret Hill, D.C.L. London: Bemrose & Sons, (>d. 4. 'Natural La-w in the Spiritual World' Examined. By W. Woods Smyth. London : Elliott Stock. Bd. \s. 6d. 5. Remarks on a book entitled 'Natural Law in the Spiritual World.' Being the Substance of Four Lectures given in London by Benjamin Wills Newton. London : Houlston & Sons. Paper is.