WHAT a change has passed over Slamannan district since then! Drumclair is in ruins, so are other villages at which I used to preach. Pits do not last for ever; and the miners must move when the minerals are exhausted.

Alphabetically, Armadale is the first on our district list of churches. I have been visiting that church now and again for the last thirty-six years. My work in connection with it has been mostly ordinary Gospel work; there have not been many outstanding events. Still, there is one which I may mention.

Over twenty years ago, a Mr. Chamberland came to Armadale to lecture for the Christadelphians. He got good audiences, and caused some commotion in the place. He always left himself open for question or debate at the close of his lectures. The Church in Armadale asked me to come and hear him, and, if I felt inclined, to oppose or in some way to show the other side of some of the things which he was advancing. I went and heard him. At the close of the hour, I said, "We have had equal time for the last hour, Mr. Chamberland, but you had an hour of a start. I am coming back next week to review your lecture; we shall then be equal. If you care to come and hear me, I shall also let you have an hour's debate at the close of my lecture."

He came, and we had an hour's debate at the end of my lecture. He admitted that he had been fairly treated. He then challenged me to debate the whole thing, and I accepted. We had to arrange the propositions by writing. The trouble began then. I have had a lot of experience since that time trying to arrange propositions with Christadelphians in order to debate. There may be a few - very few - exceptions, but the rule is that it is next to impossible to drag a Christadelphian up to a fair, clear, single-pointed proposition. Though Mr. Chamberland seemed fair enough till we tried to arrange the propositions, I then found it hard to get along with him. We exchanged a number of letters. It may be as well for me to give some idea of our attempt to arrange the propositions.

We were both willing that the nature or constitution of man should be one of the subjects discussed. I suggested that under that head we discuss, "Is the soul of man an entity?" I would affirm, he would deny. He would not have it; that would lead us into science, he said. I assured him that I would not trouble him with science; I would confine myself to the Bible. I pointed out that that was our first real issue on that subject. I held that the soul of man was a thing, he held that the soul of man was not a thing at all, it was only an attribute of the body. Our first issue was not about the attributes of the soul, but about the existence of the soul; and existence against non-existence was a clear and pointed issue, and our first real struggle should be over that. But he would not have it.

He wished the proposition to be, "Is man conscious between death and resurrection?" I had two objections to this. Suppose I allowed the word "conscious" to remain in the proposition, it would not have to be is "man" conscious, but is "any part of man" conscious between death and resurrection? But I objected to the word "conscious" being in the proposition. I believed that consciousness was an attribute of the soul, but as long as he denied the existence of the soul, he had no right to ask me to discuss the attributes of the soul with him. We had no right to discuss the attributes of God with an Atheist. He denied the existence of God, and as long as the existence of God was in dispute, it was absurd to discuss his attributes.

Mr. Chamberland replied that he could not allow the word man to be removed from the proposition, and part of man put in its place. He would not discuss anything so absurd as a part of man. I replied that the more absurd my position was, he would just have the easier work when we met. We are both agreed as to the state of the body between death and resurrection, and the body is, at least, part of man; and if we are agreed about part of man, there only remains a part to discuss about. So you must either agree to debate the actual difference or say that you do not wish a debate.

When Mr. Chamberland found that it would have to be as fair and pointed a debate as I could make it, he backed out of the whole thing. The people heard the challenge given and accepted, so I considered it but right that I should call another public meeting and explain why the debate had not come off. So I called a meeting and read the correspondence and explained why the debate had not taken place, and at the same time I gave a lecture on Christadelphianism.

The Christadelphians brought Mr. Thos. Nisbet, of Glasgow, to that meeting. At the close Mr. Nisbet offered to have a debate on the constitution of man. Like Mr. Chamberland, he would have consciousness into the proposition; and lest it should look as if I was not willing to debate, I gave way on that point. I question if I should have done it. In debates we should as far as possible begin at the beginning, and, if possible, just have one clear and pointed issue. Mr. Nisbet would have half-time Socratic method, that is, question and answer. I had never been at, or taken part in, a debate of that kind, still, I did not object. I agreed to affirm, "That the soul of man is conscious between death and resurrection." There were to be two nights' debate, but not in succession. There had to be a few days between the first and second night.

Though the manner of the debate was new, and the subject was not one I was in the habit of dealing with, I had the feeling at the close of the first night that though I had, perhaps, been cautious to a fault, I had advanced nothing that I could not hold, nor had he advanced anything that I could not meet.

On one of the days between the two nights' debate, I have a visit from two of our brethren from Slamannan. They had come all that distance to see me. They said that they wished to talk to me about the debate. One of them said, "I went to the debate with my mind made up to do justice to both sides. I knew little about the subject, but I was resolved to try and find whether the truth lay with you or the other man. And if Mr. Nisbet had fought the second hour as he did the first he would at least have commanded my respect. But he learned in the first hour that he was not equal to a fair struggle in a level field. And after that he aimed at any catch to try and get you into a corner, and if he had got you there he would have kept you there. You behaved in your usual fashion. If you got him into a tight place, as soon as you thought he felt your grip you let him go. He would not have done that with you. You again and again let him go before the audience clearly saw the strength of your position; you thought that they saw it, but they did not. For the sake of the truth you will have to play a stronger game with that man; you showed him mercy that he did not deserve."

I respected the judgement of these two brethren, and they were both strongly of the same opinion. Mrs. Anderson spoke at this point, and said, "Be sure, men, that you are right before you give that advice. If he fairly gets it into his head that that Mr. Nisbet is the kind of man you think, then you may see a firmer man that you want to see; but I know that, as a rule, he will act as you say he did the first night." I thanked my friends for coming, and said I would consider what they had said, but that I considered it better to err on the one side than on the other. Still, I had to confess that on two points, at least, I had the conviction, even at the time, that Mr. Nisbet was trickish rather than strong and manly.

I shall just notice these two points. Before the debate I had seen a tract by Mr. Nisbet; in that tract he referred to Gen. ii. 7 in the following manner: "And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life (that is caused an inrush of air into his lungs); and man became a living soul." In a speech I called attention to Mr. Nisbet's theory of man. I wondered if Mr. Nisbet really thought that man was just an air-machine; or if he thought that when man was formed of the dust of the ground that, if there had been some one alongside with a pair of bellows, all it required was the use of the bellows to give consciousness, intelligence, and activity to the inanimate form. He did not seem to relish me making the naked facts of his theory stand forth in that fashion. During my time for questions, I asked, "What does 'breath of life' mean in Gen. ii. 7?" Mr. Nisbet replied by naming the gases of which the air is composed. I said, "Mr. Nisbet, a number of men here understand your little trick." I thought it trickery then, I do so still.

Just a few words on the other point. I had said nothing in my speeches about Paradise, neither had Mr. N. But in his time for questions he asked, "Where is Paradise - up or down?" I said, "You must allow me to explain, Mr. N. I cannot answer that with just 'up ' or 'down.'" But he would allow no explanation; I must answer with "up" or "down", and nothing more. I refused to answer in that way, and for a time we were at a standstill. When I went back for the second night, I found that some were thinking it was a point in his favour that he had brought me to a stand, so I determined not to let it go at that. On the second night I raised the question of Paradise and asked, "Where is Paradise, Mr. Nisbet - up or down?" It was now his turn to stand still, he would not answer with an "up" or "down". A titter went over the whole hall when he refused to answer the same question which he had pressed upon me. When he hesitated, I said, "Come, Mr. Nisbet, up or down?" After a pause he said, "Neither." "Do you remember that a few nights ago you pressed me to answer with an 'up' or 'down,' and you would permit nothing else? and now you say that it neither up nor down. You must then have been pressing me to tell one or other of what you believed to be two lies, and you did not care which of them I told, so long as you prevented me from telling the truth."

Mr. Nisbet is no doubt a clever man, but these are samples of trickery that no man should go down to. I believe I was the better for the visit of my two friends from Slamannan. There was closer gripping the second night than the first. And though I saw where I might have done better at a number of points, I had not a particle of doubt as to my side being the side of truth, and therefore the side of strength. I saw no reason why I should not be able to fight a second battle on that subject better than I had fought the first.

Mr. Nisbet made a blunder at Armadale, and repeated it at Slamannan, that I hardly expected him to make. In keeping with his theory of man being a windmill, he put the question to me, "Does man live first or breathe first?" I replied, "He lives first and breathes as a consequence." In his speech he represented Mr. Anderson as saying that people could live without breath. In my speech I corrected him, saying that I did not say that people could live without breathing, it was a question of which first; I was not inclined to discuss that matter further with Mr. Nisbet; I would leave the old women to settle whether Mr. Nisbet lived first or breathed first, and I was quite sure that they would decide in my favour.

I made Mr. Nisbet's acquaintance first at Armadale, but circumstances have brought us together a number of times since. We have five times been engaged in public debate, four times on the nature of man and once on the kingdom of God. Some time after the debate at Armadale the Christadelphians made themselves very active at Slamannan. A few good men left the Methodists there and joined the Christadelphians. They brought lecturers and had a number of public meetings. I was questioned by some of them at our gospel meetings for a time, but they soon got tired of that. As it was reported that they were willing or rather anxious for debate, our elders at Slamannan asked me to make it public that I was open to defend anything that we held as an article of faith or a condition of fellowship. I did that, and also added that I was willing to defend anything that I had ever preached in the Slamannan district. But they made no attack upon us.

After a while, Mr. Nisbet came to lecture at Slamannan. Our elders asked me to go and hear him and use my own judgment as to debate or otherwise. I went and heard him. There was a good deal in the lecture about man coming from the dust and returning to the dust, but I saw nothing in the lecture that I thought would make a good proposition for debate. After the lecture he invited questions. I put the question - "Has man a soul and a body?" "What do you mean by soul?" he asked. "Put your own meaning upon it, Mr. Nesbit, but has man a soul and a body?" He talked round about a few times, but I pressed my question, "Has man a soul and a body?" At last he said, "Man has a body and life, and the life is often called the soul." "Does the soul leave the body before it returns to the dust?" I asked. He said "No." "Oh, Mr. Nisbet! you say that the soul means the life, and if the soul does not leave the body before it returns to the dust that would be burying a man alive, would it not?"

A slight laugh went over the hall, and it caused Mr. Nisbet to come out strongly. He said, "I am prepared to prove that nothing separates from the body at death, that can exist or be conscious between death and resurrection." "Then you will know what I mean, Mr. Nisbet, when I tell you that I shall let you try your hand at that." "You will, of course, take the affirmative, Mr. Anderson." "I shall do nothing of the kind. You say that you can prove; I shall let you do it." "Catch me affirming a negative," he said. "There are two of us not to be caught just at present." "You affirmed at Armadale." "Yes, I did more than I had any right to do at Armadale, but this is a new battle, and you shall come right up to your line. We give a good deal of liberty of opinion in regard to the state between death and resurrection, you give none. Every one must believe what you have just said that you can prove before they are allowed into your fellowship. What you hold as a positive article of faith, you ought to be able to give proof for. I am only asking you to do your duty. So, please, undertake your proof or take back your swagger."

At this point Mr. Andrew Murray of Slamannan rose and said, "Mr. Nisbet, you are a strange man. You stand there and declare that you can prove a certain thing; another man says he will let you try that, and as soon as he accepts you, you turn round and ask him to do the proving. You surely do not imagine that we are so stupid that we cannot see through a thing like that." Mr. Nisbet saw that he had no road out, but he only accepted, with not the best of grace, what he should have been quite willing to undertake, and what was nothing more than his duty. Some of his friends were not too well pleased because I had forced him to take a stand for what he professed to believe.

We appointed a committee on each side to arrange for the debate. But I had a severe attack of pneumonia before the debate could come off, and I was unfit for ordinary duty for about two years. It was therefore about two years after the challenge was given and accepted before the debate came off. It was a long time before I could be about at all, still I did not think that I was dangerously ill. After I was able to be about the Scotch Annual Meeting came on. It was in Edinburgh that year. I thought that I would venture to go to it. Dr. Thomson, one of our elders in Edinburgh, saw me just after I went in.

The conference was not started, so he came to me and said, "Bro. Anderson! what are you doing here? What is the matter?" I said that I had been ill with inflammation in the lungs, but I did not think that there was very much the matter. He said, "You are quite mistaken, you are dangerously ill, you must take the advice of a specialist before you leave Edinburgh. And you must take no part in this conference today no matter what is being discussed; you are not fit, you must take care." Up to that time, though I knew I was ill, I did not think that there was any danger. Mr. Alexander Paton, of Edinburgh, heard the most of what Dr. Thomson said, and he informed the doctor that on Monday he was going to Melrose Hydropathic for a month. He said, "Bro. Anderson must put himself under my care for a month; there is a good doctor there, and we shall see what a month at Melrose will do." I went to Melrose for a month with Mr. Paton. The doctor there took as gloomy a view of matters as Dr. Thomson had done. It was his opinion that I should leave the country. I could not say that I felt much the better of the month at Melrose, but I improved a bit after I came home.

I inquired more particularly into my condition after that. Our doctor at Fauldhouse said that he was sure I was in consumption. Other two doctors said the same thing, but held out hope, saying that consumption was curable. I had not much faith in consumption being curable if it had got a real hold. I had all but made up my mind to go to Australia. I called upon Dr. Thomson in Edinburgh, to let him know and to say good-bye. He advised me not to go. He said he had a son a doctor in Australia, and he was often not well pleased at the doctors here sending people out to die there. He said, "There is, perhaps, nothing better than a sea voyage, if a man has as much money as to get the first-class comforts and a first-class ship, and, if the climate does not suit, to come first-class home again. But if a man has to take the risks of an ordinary voyage, and risks after he goes there, the chances are that the voyage will not make up for the want of home comforts."

He also informed me that there was a good deal of fluid in my left side and if that could not be absorbed I would have to be pierced. He added that there were men here who could be trusted to do a thing like that, I did not know into whose hands I might fall there. He gave me instructions as to how best to keep clear of a chill, and advised me to risk the winter at home. I left the doctor with my mind changed as to going to Australia. He also said that he was not sure that I was in consumption. When a man was down in body as I was, he had all the symptoms of it, but it might only be the effects of the inflammation.

Just after this I was invited to go to Auchtermuchty for a double purpose - the change might do me good and I might be able to give some little help to the little church there. That move was a great benefit to me. I was lodged with "the Cant family" in Rossieden Cottage, a short distance out the Cupar Road from Auchtermuchty. The cottage is at the foot of a whinny hill and sheltered from the east wind. Mrs. Cant was a good nurse. She had lost two brothers with consumption, and though she never gave me a hint of that kind, she told others that I was going the same road, and she did not think that she could be deceived with that trouble. I did not know that till afterwards. If I had known it at the time, I would have admired her efforts more than I did. She fought what she considered a hopeless battle, with more cheerfulness and energy than most people could have fought a hopeful one. She had a lot of hens and consequently of fresh eggs, and cooked the latter in any way that I could be induced to take them. These with plenty of fresh milk, or any other thing that she thought would help to build me up and give strength, came my way. I was there for about six months. I had a run home once or twice in that time.

The chapel we met in there was a small place and easy to speak in. Except when visitors came, I generally addressed the Church in the forenoon on Sunday, and preached the gospel in the evening. But I held no public meetings during the week. We had very nice meetings on the Sunday evenings, and place generally well filled. I enjoyed addressing those meetings, and the Church was pleased with my visit.

Though I was gaining strength, I did not believe that I would get better. My left lung was still bleeding less or more every day. I could not hide that from Sister Cant, of course, and I got to know afterwards that it had the same effect on her that it had on me, that is, it convinced us both that I was in consumption. I knew that many people in consumption deceived themselves thinking that they were getting better when they were not, so I watched my strength closely to see if I was gaining or losing. Every morning that the weather would permit, after breakfast, I walked a mile along the Cupar road; I walked that mile to time. I started at the first milestone beyond Rossieden Cottage and walked towards Cupar to the next milestone. I was careful to keep my mouth closed and walked the mile as fast as I could with the air which could be inhaled and expelled by the nostrils.

Week by week I knew that I was gaining a little, I could do the mile in shorter time. My theory was that I was getting away from the inflammation faster than the consumption was overtaking me. When I got that I could walk the mile inside of seventeen minutes, I was sure I was as well then as I would be. I then made up my mind to go home. When I left Auchtermuchty they made me a present of a handsome Bible; they also sent a present to Mrs. Anderson. The Bible bears the date of January, 1888. I was sure then that I had only about a year to live, but I am writing this twenty-three years afterwards.

I wrote to Slamannan asking them to arrange for the debate with Mr. Nisbet. They were not willing that I should debate. But I pressed, saying that they must allow me to pay my debt. We met; the hall was packed in every corner even to the platform. It was of course warm. I sweated profusely and drank more water than I ever remember doing on a platform before or since. But my strength was equal to my task, and I felt that I had the upper hand all the way through. I am not advertising public debates as a cure for consumption, but the fact remains that about two weeks after the debate at Slamannan with Mr. Nisbet my lung stopped bleeding and has never bled since. Mrs. Cant was doing better than she thought, and I was not so near my end as I thought I was when I engaged in that debate. I am now inclined to think that Dr. Thomson was right; that I was not in consumption - that it was the effects of the inflammation.

As to the debate, there were hardly two opinions about it; that I had the stronger side was generally admitted. One of the Methodists who was forced to find a seat on the platform, was sitting near me, he was so pleased with me that he rose and shook hands every time I sat down.

I may relate one feature of that debate. Gen. ii. 7 was before us at Armadale. But the impression at Armadale was that I moved away too soon from that portion of Scripture, seeing that it is a passage which the Christadelphians often try to make a good deal of. I made up my mind that I would not err on that side at Slamannan. So as soon as my time for questions came I produced Mr. Nisbet's tract, and said, "Here is a tract written by you; in it you refer to Gen. ii. 7, where it is said that God breathed into man's nostrils the breath of life. You say that this means that God caused an inrush of air into his lungs. Do you still believe what you have written here?" "Yes." "That is, you believe that man is made up of a body and an inrush of air?" "Not only that," Mr. Nisbet replied. "Then what in addition to air was put into man at the beginning?"

Mr. Nisbet is the cleverest man I ever met at making nice little speeches all round a point without touching it. He gave a beautiful example of that in reply to my question. But when he stopped the same question was waiting for him. "What besides air was put into man at the beginning?" He again made a nice little speech, and when he finished, I without remark put the same question - "What beside air was put into man at the beginning?" He again made a speech, and I again put my question, and thus we continued till my time for putting questions was up. We had some speeches between, but when my time for questions came again, without further remark I again put my question and let him go on with his speeches. This continued right through my second time for questions. When my third time for questions came, I said, "Mr. Nisbet, I held you at Gen. ii.7 at Armadale till I was sure that the audience saw that you were evading and shuffling, but only few of them saw it. I shall not make that mistake here. I shall not put a second question to you tonight till you answer that one; then, 'What beside air went into man at the beginning?'" He replied, "Spirit of God."

There was an outburst of applause when that answer was dragged from him which made you sure that it was worth all the time spent on it. I then asked, "Is the Spirit of God capable of consciousness?" He answered, "Yes." The applause was still louder when this answer was given. I replied that the debate might now close; that his case was gone. But we moved on then to other points. The Slamannan debate fought Gen. ii. 7 to a finish, as far as Mr. Nisbet and I are concerned. We met in debate on the same subject at Motherwell, and Kilwinning after that, but Gen. ii. 7 never came up again.

I feel inclined to make a few remarks on Gen. ii. 7 before I move on. That passage informs us that God made man of the dust of the ground. Man here means body, and nothing but body; that is all that was made of the dust of the ground. Then God breathed into man's nostrils the "breath of life" and man became a living soul. "Breath of life" is the only thing mentioned in addition to body that goes to constitute man. That is, body and breath of life make up the whole man. In this passage, then, "breath of life" stands for all that goes to constitute a man, with the exception of body. All that the rest of the Scriptures teach us about the inward man must be here covered by the phrase "breath of life." In Matt. x. 28 we have, "Fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul." Here body and soul cover the whole man, just as man and breath of life cover the whole man in Gen. ii. 7.

But man in Gen. ii. 7 just means what body means in Matt. x. 28. That being so, "Breath of life" must just mean in Gen. ii. 7 what "soul" means in Matt. x. 28, for each of these mean the whole of man except the body. "Man" in the one passage is equal to "body" in the other passage; and "breath of life" in the one passage is equal to "soul" in the other passage, for each passage covers the whole man. But Matt. x. 28 informs us that man cannot kill the soul; that being so, man cannot kill what is called "breath of life" in Gen. ii. 7, for both mean the same thing. There was something put into man at the beginning, then, that man cannot kill. As soon as you get a clear hold of that you can do more than hold your own with a Christadelphian on Gen. ii. 7, for the Christadelphian holds that there is nothing in man which man cannot kill.

Mr. Nisbet did not seem to be too well pleased with the debate, for he came back after it to lecture on the debate. Some of my friends asked if I was not going to follow his example. I said no, I had no such intention, and I was quite pleased that Mr. Nisbet saw a need for it. I have never done that, nor have I deemed it wise to refer to a debate from the public platform after it was past. Preaching the Gospel is our main work, and though defence of the truth may now and again demand our attention, let us leave that alone as soon as we can and proceed with our work. I have always acting on this plan, and I do not regret it. Lecturing on the debate, when you have already had equal time in it, has never appeared to me to be a manly thing.

Chapter XI
Incidents connected with labours at Bathgate

BATHGATE is one of our oldest Churches in the district, but the men who had to do with its formation had all been removed before I knew anything about Bathgate. My connection with the Bathgate Church has, upon the whole, been of a pleasant nature, I have often had good Gospel meetings there. But concerning these I can attempt no details; some of the unusual things I may mention.

Shortly after I became an evangelist, Mr. Page Hopps was going over a good part of Scotland lecturing on Unitarianism. He visited Bathgate and lectured on, "The Unitarian Confession of Faith." He had his lecture in print and sold it at the close of the meeting. I heard Mr. Hopps, and bought a copy of his lecture. It occurred to me that a review of that lecture might interest some people, so I advertised accordingly. I had a good hearing and my review helped our Gospel meetings.

That lecture had some fine examples of word-juggling. It declared that "faith" was an article in their creed. "We all," said Mr. Hopps, "have our thoughts on the subject of religion; and our thoughts, when they go deep enough, form our beliefs." This looks well enough until you look into it. Paul says that "Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God" (Rom. x. 17). With Paul faith comes by hearing; with Mr. Hopps faith comes by thinking. With Paul faith rests upon what God has said, with Mr. Hopps, faith rests upon what man thinks. With Paul, revelation is the test of truth in religion; with Mr. Hopps, human opinion is the test of truth in religion. Mr. Hopps claimed that faith was an article in their creed. But he gave a meaning to the word faith that is out of harmony with its general use in connection with religion. This is not reasoning - it is trickery.

I shall have to be content with another example. Mr. Hopps informed us that the Unitarians believed in "Inspiration." But he proceeded to explain by saying that he believed in the inspiration of David, and Paul, and Milton, and Channing, etc. This is just another case of the same kind. When a Christian says that he believes in the inspiration of the Scriptures, and at the same time he believes that the writers of the Bible had no advantage over Milton or Channing, he is using the word inspiration in an uncommon manner, and thereby tending to deceive. But playing tricks with the word inspiration is not confined to the Unitarians. Some of our half-and-half Higher Critics use "inspiration" in a sense that is little or nothing above trickery, and only calculated to deceive. I am not blaming the out-and-out Higher Critic at this point. He goes squarely to work and tries to account for the Jew and his Book without God and without miracle. I have some respect for the out-and-out; you know where he is, and what he means. Of course, as far as a man is a Higher Critic at all, he is just so much nearer the goal of the out-and-out, but I prefer the genuine article to any of the "spurious imitations."

Some time after the above lecture, the United Presbyterian minister in Bathgate gave a course of lectures in defence of infant baptism and against the Baptists. The lectures were reported in the local press. I was asked to reply to them. We had a good hearing for our lectures in reply to the minister, and we were also reported in the local press. That did us no harm, but a considerable amount of good.

The old ministers used, once or so in a lifetime, to make an effort like this. The younger ministers are wiser; as a rule, they leave it alone. It is now pretty well known that there is no Bible authority for infant baptism. And the man who tries to bring something out of nothing has more before him that he is a match for, and he is the wiser man who does not try. Infant baptism lives more upon the force of custom than upon sincere scriptural conviction. The force of custom is very great, but after I have made all the allowance I can for that, it still seems strange to me how anyone can have any hand in the christening of a baby in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, when neither Father, Son nor Holy Spirit has authorised anyone to christen a baby in the Divine Name. You would think that anyone would hesitate to use God's Name where he had not been given authority to use it.

Besides the lectures and my replies to them, there was a good deal of correspondence in the Bathgate papers in regard to baptism. I had a hand in that correspondence.

I might mention one of my more private experiences in Bathgate. At the time of the lectures referred to, there was a Charles Robertson in Bathgate. Though Mr. Robertson was a business man, his remarks were not always of a polished nature. But no one who knew him could doubt that he had an interest in religion. He came to my lectures in reply to the minister, and after that time we were always on speaking terms. I was spending a week-end in Bathgate, and Mr. Robertson sent for me on the Sunday afternoon. I went.

I was not much more than inside the house when he said, "Mr. Anderson, I wish to put a few questions to you." "All right, Mr. Robertson, but you had better not put off much time, for our evening meeting time will be here before long." "Well," he said, "I shall just begin at once. Do you not think that you preach far too much about baptism?" "Yes, Mr. Robertson, I think I do." "You think you do! then why do you not stop it?" "Because I cannot get it stopped." "You cannot get it stopped! How can that be? Explain yourself." "Oh yes, Mr. Robertson, I shall explain myself. You sometimes preach to people, and I am glad that you do. You tell sinners that God loves them, and Christ died for them, and you urge them to trust in Christ. I am pleased that you do all that, but you stop there. You tell them that they only have to believe, whereas Jesus has said, 'He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved.' You leave the last part of this out, and so do most people who preach in Bathgate. Now if I do not tell the people the rest of it, who is going to do it? I have to preach baptism for myself and you, and twenty other people in Bathgate, and that is more preaching about baptism than I wish to do. But, Mr. Robertson, if you will promise me that you will say a little more about it, I shall promise you that I shall say a little less about it." He paid the best of attention while I spoke, and I expected an outburst when I stopped. But, no, he spoke quite calmly and said, "Mr. Anderson, I never saw your work from that point of view before. I shall say no more against your work in regard to that point."

Some considerable time after the above I was in Bathgate. I was sent for to the house of Mr. Robertson. When I got there Mr. Robertson said, "Mr. Anderson, my wife is dying. You were always one of her particular favourites and she desired to see you before she departed." Mrs. Robertson was a mild, gentle person compared with her husband. She was weak, but could converse a little. I wish to put upon record a small part of what she said. During our conversation she referred to the fact that she was dying. "But," she said, "I am not dying having any regret that I ever spoke too plainly to anyone about their eternal welfare; but I am dying with some regret because I think that I sometimes did not speak plainly enough."

Before I leave Bathgate I may refer shortly to another matter. It is recent compared with the other things which I have mentioned. I had a challenge to debate with a Perfectionist in Bathgate. Though we did not think that much good could come from it, my friends thought that I had better accept and let it come off. We did not put ourselves to much trouble or expense in advertising, still a fairly large audience came together to hear. My chairman had taken the measure of the men we had to deal with, and had proper rules for the debate drawn up and agreed to.

Our friend on the other side held that people were either altogether good or altogether bad. I held that he was wrong with both classes, that the worse of people had some good in them, and in the best of people there was room for improvement. I made a centre point of I John i. 8: "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." I called attention to the fact that by the use of the word "we" John included himself, and I pressed my friend to say if he considered himself better than John. The debate did us no harm. It did do harm to the other side. My opponent and his chairman both seemed to feel that they had made a bad job. They would talk after it was time to close the debate. I protested and left the platform. The audience rose and began to go out. My Chairman stood and remonstrated with them for a minute or two, but they would talk though the people were going out. My chairman then left the platform, saying, "That is a fine example of perfection! These men will not keep the rules which they agreed to." We had thus an imperfect finish to a debate on Perfection.

I do not know that we need trouble ourselves much about our Perfectionist friends. They are never likely to do very much harm. Our perfect saints are often absurd sinners. A man may manage to persuade himself that he is perfect, but he will generally have trouble in getting the man next door to believe it. Our of our evangelists was visiting; he got into conversation with a woman who said that she was perfect, she had lived entirely free from sin for three years. He knew that he could not do any good in that case, so he said, "My dear woman, I am glad to hear of it," and then made his way out. That, as a rule, may be the best thing you can do with perfect persons; let them alone, it is not at all likely that many other people will believe in his or her perfection.

Chapter XII
Visits to the church at Wilsontown

WILSONTOWN is the nearest of our Churches to Crofthead (now called Fauldhouse). It is four miles south from Fauldhouse and moorland all the way. The great part of the first two and a half miles is a very rough road, hardly passable for a horse and cart, anything but good for a foot passenger in some places even in daylight, and, of course, very much worse in the dark. About a mile and a half from Wilsontown you strike one of the roads between Edinburgh and Ayr. That is a fairly good road, but in some parts there is not even a fence to let you know in a snowstorm which is road and which is moor. That mile and a half of the Ayr road is almost sacred to me. Wilsontown is one of the places which for many years I often gave a night in the week to. I seldom stayed all night there; it was something off the usual which prevented me from walking home from Wilsontown. A number of brethren always went with me along that mile and half of a road, we parted where I struck to the left into the rough road over the hill. If it were dark, I rarely met or saw any person from parting with the brethren until I got near Fauldhouse, but all the same I often enjoyed that walk. But the many conversations I had with these brethren between Wilsontown and the place of parting, fill a pleasant place in my memory. Our conversations were generally cheerful but seldom trifling; many things concerning the kingdom of God were discussed during these walks with brethren who are now scattered far and wide, and some have crossed the river.

There is a good deal of moving about among miners, and some of the members of the Slamannan Church were at the formation of the Church at Wilsontown. In thinking about churches you know it is generally some man or a few men who stand out prominently in your memory in connection with them. But when you are looking back over the history of Wilsontown a woman's name takes first place. For many years Jane Gillon's influence was greater than any man's who ever was in it. She was turned to the service of God under the preaching of Charles Abercrombie at Drumclair, Slamannan, during the Revival of 1859. She was in connection with the Church at Wilsontown from its formation till her death a few years ago. She was the wife of a miner, and never aimed at anything above that station either in dress or any other thing - there were no airs about Jane Gillon. She had one book - the Bible, she very seldom read anything else, and the bulk of her reading was confined to the New Testament. She lived and died in absolute ignorance of the theory of music, but that did not keep her from singing, she was fond of hymns. In her youth and prime, God blessed her with a sweet voice, she had a good ear and her soul went into her singing. Her knowledge could not be called great, but she could make a splendid use in conversation of what she did know - never forward, never backward, "ready, aye ready." Her love for Christ and His Gospel outshone every other thing in her life, and she helped in many ways.

She was midwife for the small place, and the women, as a rule, had confidence in her. The doctor lived at some distance and could not always be got, and in cases of sickness or accident, it almost seemed as if Jane Gillon knew by instinct what was best to do. Hence she was often called upon. Many a sick and dying pillow did Jane smooth, and her earnest pointing to Christ in the homely language of the people often found its way to the heart. This gave her an influence in another way. Our meetings had often to be made known by house to house invitation. As long as Jane was able, she did the most of that herself. She could often bring a person to a meeting that nobody else could.

Then, the house of Jane Gillon could almost be looked upon as the home of the brethren. They all visited freely there. I never went to Wilsontown just in time to address a meeting and come away again. I would have considered the evening half lost if I had done that. I aimed to be at Jane Gillon's about the time that the miners were home and free for a conversation, and miners are generally home early. It was often known what afternoon I was expected, and when this was not the case, a message was sent to those who were likely to be free for a conversation. And very many pleasant and profitable hours have I thus spent round Jane's kitchen fire. As a rule there were no reserve seats in Jane's kitchen, but Jane had her own chair at the far side of the fire which no one else ever took. I generally sat in an armchair at the other side of the fire from Jane. No others had fixed places, but sat in a half-circle in front of the fire, which was never pinched for coal.

Jane Gillon's happy, cheerful good nature hardly ever failed her. It was only when some person or persons spoke lightly of or coolly opposed what she believed to be the Word of God, that anything like a flash came from Jane.

I have now said a good deal about ordinary work at Wilsontown. I might before leaving it mention one of the unusual meetings; I had also a good many of them there. I went to Wilsontown one Sunday, not by arrangement; I was free and thought I would go there, though they did not know that I was coming. It also happened that Mr. Alexander Weir of Carluke, who has a very good voice for open-air speaking, was also impressed to go to Wilsontown that morning. Neither of us knew that the other was coming, and our friends at Wilsontown did not expect either of us. We were both early, and got to Jane's about the same time.

She was delighted and informed us the first thing that the Lord had sent us. She then began, and explained to us why she was so pleased to see us. The (Plymouth) Brethren had had an evangelist there for a week. He had spent a good part of his time in misrepresenting us and trying to lower us in the eyes of the people. She gave us an outline of his work in that respect, and said, "Now I believe that the Lord has sent you two this morning, so that this afternoon or evening you may make a reply to these people and point out their errors, and the manner in which they have misrepresented us, and thus put us in our right position before the people."

We said that we would have an outside meeting, but we both refused to do just what she wished. The people might think that we had just come for the purpose of attacking these men and then it might do more harm than good; we might refer to what they were doing, but we refused to make it the kind of meeting which Jane wished. She was not pleased; she insisted that we were paying too much attention to what people might say; she still thought that the Lord had sent us for that purpose, and he would hold us responsible if we did not do it. She informed us that there had been some baptisms by the "Brethren," in a stream about a quarter of a mile up the moor, on the Sunday before, and there was to be another baptism that afternoon. "Well," I said, "the open-air baptism will be an attraction, and we shall not have our meeting until that is past."

It was a fine day, and as it came near the time for the baptism, the people began to flock up the moor. Just then one of our sisters came to me and said: "I have been informed that there will be no baptism. The person who was expected to be baptised has refused to come forward." I then turned to Bro. Weir and said, "That is perhaps our opportunity, let us go up and see what we can make of it." So with as many friends as we could muster without waiting, we made our way up the moor to where the baptism was expected. We found a large number of people assembled there. I spoke to them, and said that as the people they were expecting had not yet come, we would be pleased if they would listen to some things we had to say. We assured them that if the people that they were expecting came, we would give place at once. Without any preliminaries I introduced Mr. Weir. He had a very attentive hearing from the large audience. During his Gospel address he referred to some of the points upon which we had been misrepresented.

I followed Mr. Weir and had also an attentive hearing. I went more in detail into the belief of the (Plymouth) Brethren, reminding my hearers that though they were known by that name, they did not acknowledge it themselves. I pointed out where we agreed and where we differed. We explained that we did not find fault with any one for referring to what we believed; but when they did so, they should do it fairly, and our friends on the other side had not done that. If they denied anything that we had said, we were willing to meet them and give proof. When I closed, there was still no appearance of the baptism taking place, and the people dispersed.

After the meeting Jane Gillon, Mr. Weir, and I were coming down the moor together when Jane said, "You men will surely not deny now that the Lord had a hand in that meeting. These people were behaving badly toward us. The Lord put it into the hearts of you two men to come today, and He caused the very people who were misrepresenting us to be the means of gathering that large meeting together to hear you. You have now put our position fairly before the people and I am content. Yes, men, the Lord had a hand in that meeting, and the matter can rest there now."

Wilsontown along its whole history has often been defective in not having men who were ready, active, public speakers; but it has never lacked men who were strong and intelligent in conversation. Jane Gillon's work was among the sick and the erring, but when the wolf came among the sheep some of the men were far ahead of Jane then; she knew that very well, and in these circumstances she naturally fell in behind these brethren, knowing that the truth was safe in their hands.

Chapter XIII
Coatbridge church and Mormon preachers

ABOUT the year 1886, some members of the Baptist Church in Coatbridge became dissatisfied and separated themselves from the Baptists, and came into fellowship with us. Since that time we have had a small Church there. I have now and again given a little help there, but considering the size of the town it would require more time and attention than we were able to give. Still that little church holds on faithfully. For some time we tried open-air meetings on the Saturday evenings, speakers and members from different places coming to help. But we did not do as much good as we wished and hoped to do.

Though we have not done all we would have liked at Coatbridge, I have enjoyed my visits there. I have always had more pleasure in helping a small Church than a large one. In a large Church you have often the feeling that if they would stir themselves, they might do without you, but in the small Church you are generally sure that help is required.

A good many years ago I had a letter from one of the members of the Church at Coatbridge, asking if I would come and have conversation with two intelligent Latter-day Saints. They had expressed their willingness to have conversation with any one. I fixed upon the first evening suitable for me, and wrote that I would come. The friend who wrote for me was employed in a steelwork, and I inferred that the Latter-day Saints would be fellow-workmen. But when I got to the house where I had to meet them I found a large kitchen filled with people, and discovered that the two Latter-day Saints were missionaries from Utah. We were introduced to each other.

They asked, "What shall we talk about?" They suggested that faith, repentance or baptism or some such subject be the topic of conversation, and where we differed we would discuss the matter from the Bible. I objected to proceeding in that way. I said, "You believe in baptism and we believe in baptism. I hold that I am a baptised person, but you deny it. You say that I am not baptised because you did not baptise me, no one has authority to baptise but you. I say that I am a married man, but you deny it. I am not married because the Latter-day Saints did not marry me, no one has the authority to marry but you. Thus I might go on, but these examples will do. You profess to come from Utah with Apostolic authority, you also profess to have the same powers which the first preachers of the Gospel possessed when 'They went forth, and preached everywhere, the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs following' (Mark xvi.20).

"I believe the Bible, but, gentlemen, I doubt you. If you will prove that you are what you claim to be, I pledge myself before this room full of people to accept what you say without further question. I never was presumptuous enough to dispute with inspired men, and I hope that I never shall be. Prove your claims and the thing is finished, so far as I am concerned; begin there, that is the proper place to begin." But I could not induce them to begin there. When I could not bring them up to that, I asked them to decide between themselves which of the two was to be the speaker, and we would each speak ten minutes alternately for two hours. He could lead as he pleased and I would follow him. They agreed to that, and we spent two hours in that way. If there was anything miraculous about my opponent, I failed to feel the force of it.

A good part of his time was taken up with trying to prove that we still ought to have the powers and superhuman gifts of the early Christians. I pressed upon him the fact that he was wasting his time. For even if he could prove that those gifts ought to be possessed by Christians now, that would not prove that he or any of his brethren possessed them. There are two sections of the Latter-day Saints, each declares that they are the people who have the Apostles and Prophets and gifts, and that those who belong to the other section are frauds. Our Catholic-Apostolic friends say that they are the people who possess what the Latter-day Saints profess to have, and that both sections of the Latter-day Saints are frauds.

Now suppose we were sure that these gifts are now in existence, and were also sure that one of these three religious bodies possessed them, how are we to know which of the three? The only way to settle it is, let the party who can work the miracles do it. I pressed this position upon our friends from Utah, saying that if they had the power, giving us a manifestation of it would be better than any amount of talk. I, of course, followed him to all the passages he quoted, pointing out that none of them said that the gifts had to continue, and every time pressing home the fact that though the passage did say so, our friends were in no better a position, for that would not prove that they possessed these gifts.

Mormon officials can be very solemn when they are testifying to the miracles they have witnessed, or announcing their pretended authority. An honest man need hardly try to tell the truth as solemnly and earnestly as a fraud can tell lies; so far as solemn earnestness goes the fraud generally has it, the honest man cannot come up to him. My opponent at Coatbridge was no exception to that rule. In one of his speeches he solemnly said, "You must beware of men. My friend here does not pretend to have any authority; he just took it into his head to preach, and some people took it into their heads to support him, and he does not even profess to have authority, so you must beware of men."

In replying I said, "My friend gave you a piece of wholesome advice when he told you to 'beware of men,' but it was awfully nice of him to remove all suspicion from me. He informed you that I did not pretend to have any authority. That is true. I preach from the Bible; I claim authority for the book I preach from, but none for myself. But the man who makes no pretensions can deceive no one. I make no pretensions, so you do not require to beware of me. But my friend is in a different position; he has come here with very great pretensions. He pretends to have been sent from Utah by Apostolic authority, and pretends to have received Divine authority to preach and to work miracles - he pretends all this, and you must beware of men. He pretends to come here with the same power and authority that Philip had when he went to Samaria. The people of Samaria wondered at the miracles worked by Philip. Are the people of Coatbridge wondering at the miracles which are being done by our friends here? No, indeed; when our friends leave Coatbridge, if the people wonder at all, they will wonder that our friends had the brazen-faced impudence to come here pretending so much and doing nothing. It is not a question of being mistaken; they know as well as they know that they are living, that they have not the powers which they profess to have, and you must beware of men." After I made this reply I heard no more about their pretended authority for the evening.

Perhaps I should call attention to another feature of that evening's debate before I leave it. When I was pressing my friend on the other side for proof for his pretensions he quoted, as the Latter-day Saints often do: "A wicked and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign, and there shall no sign be given unto it" (Matt. xvi. 4). In my reply I said, "My friend on the other side may have a good character when he is at home, but he has no character here, he is only a wandering stranger. Our friend must be possessed of more than an ordinary share of audacity to come strolling here without a character and impeach decent people with being wicked and adulterous. If he repeats that, I shall press him for proof and he will fail in giving it, as he has failed in the other things which he has attempted this evening.

"The passage which my friend quoted informs us how Jesus acted when the Pharisees and Sadducees asked Him for a sign from heaven, tempting Him. Jesus had before this time given abundant evidence in proof of His claims, but these men were neither honest nor open to conviction. Jesus therefore did not waste time upon them. But when John the Baptist sent to Jesus asking, 'Art thou He that should come? or do we look for another?' we have here an honest man open to conviction and seeking evidence to put his mind at rest. How did Jesus treat John the Baptist? His instructions were, 'Go and show John again those things which ye do hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached to them.' That is how Jesus treated an honest man when he asked for evidence. Now I claim, like John the Baptist, to be an honest man, open to conviction and seeking to know the truth, and I ask my friend on the other side to treat me as Jesus treated John the Baptist, or else let him prove me to be the wicked and adulterous person he calls me. He is in duty bound to do one or other of these two things, but I am certain that he will do neither the one nor the other."

After my reply, we heard no more about the "wicked and adulterous generation." When our time was up I said to them, "I suppose you will be about Coatbridge for a few weeks, so if you are willing I shall meet you for one evening each week, until you go away. You can lead each time as you please, and I shall follow you." They inclined to meet me again, and the matter ended there, so far as we were concerned.

When we were on our feet to go out one of the audience said to them, "Gentlemen, your position seems to be this. We have to believe in your claims without any evidence but your own word in the first place, then we have to join you, and after we are in among you we shall receive evidence regarding the truth of your pretensions. Most Scotchmen will be too cautions to act in that way."

When I have the Latter-day Saints in hand I may as well tell another story about them. Since the year 1889 we have had a Church in Hamilton. That Church met at Blantyre for some time and afterwards moved to Hamilton. A few years ago a representative of the Reorganized Section of the Latter-day Saints appeared in Hamilton. He was an acceptable open-air speaker and attracted some attention. He got into conversation with one or four members at Hamilton and informed that member that we as a religious body were afraid of the Reorganized Section of the Latter-day Saints - we knew our weakness and kept out of their way. That was news to our friend, he had not heard that before and was not sure about believing it. So he informed the Latter-day Saint that there was one of our evangelists at Motherwell just then, and Motherwell is just about two miles from Hamilton. He said that he had never known that evangelist refuse to have a conversation with any one, and, if the Latter-day Saint would permit him, he would go to Motherwell and try to arrange with the evangelist to come to Hamilton for a conversation. After what the Latter-day Saint had said, he could hardly refuse that offer, so it was fixed that I should meet him in a house in Hamilton, with a few friends on each side to hear the conversation.

At the appointed time we met in the house of our friend who had arranged the meeting. Before entering upon the conversation proper I said to the Latter-day Saint, "Mr. Rushton, though this is to be a conversation, not a debate, still I should like some order put into it. In a conversation each is apt to think that the other is taking more than his share of the time, and this sometimes leads to unpleasantness. To prevent this, I suggest that we agree to take an equal share of the time - say five or ten minutes each at a time." He was willing, so we arranged for five minutes each alternately for two hours.

I led, and in substance said: "Mr. Rushton, here is a tract which you gave to my friend here and he gave it to me. I intend to make that tract the subject of my remarks. The tract is written by one of your leading men, and it is written against the religious body to which I belong. The main charges are - we have no apostles, no prophets, we do not perform any miracles, and we do not lay hands on people to bestow supernatural gifts. I plead guilty to these charges. We have no apostles, and I know of no one that I can blame. I know of no person who can make an apostle. A prophet is a person who speaks by inspiration from God. We have no such men, and again I can blame no one. I know of no person who can make a prophet. We work no miracles. I work no miracles because I cannot. I never blame myself for what I cannot do. I know of no person who can give the power to work miracles, I therefore blame no one. We could, of course, lay our hands on people's heads, but I fear those heads would be no better for our hands, we therefore refrain from the empty form.

He did not relish being hauled up to the proof of his pretensions. He tried to turn the conversation in other directions, but I kept bringing him back to this point. Like his friends at Coatbridge, he was anxious to make out that the Bible taught that these offices and gifts should still be in the Church. We reminded him that even if that were true it would not relieve him of his task. It would still be his duty to prove that he was the kind of man he professed to be, and had the gifts and powers which he laid claim to. At the same time, I examined every passage that he called attention to and showed that they did not teach that these offices and gifts should still be here. He seemed to depend as much on Eph. iv. 11-14, as any passage, and we spent some time on that portion. It reads: "And he gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ; till we all come into the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ; that we henceforth be no more children, tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of man, and cunning craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive."

Mr. Rushton tried to use this passage in the following manner:- "We are here informed that apostles and prophets were given for the perfecting of the saints. As the saints are not yet perfect, we must still have apostles and prophets with us, as the object for which they were given has not yet been attained. Again, apostles and prophets were given until unity of the faith was reached; but unity of the faith has not yet been attained, therefore apostles and prophets must still be here, for God would not withdraw them till the object was attained for which they were sent."

In replying to him I presented the following points: "You Latter-day Saints teach that, on account of error in the Church, apostles and prophets were removed from it shortly after the days of the first Apostles. And from then until the time of Joseph Smith there were no apostles on the earth. That is, for considerably over a thousand years, according to you, there were no apostles. If that were so, any impostor during that thousand years might have reasoned exactly as you are doing, to prove that there really were apostles on the earth during that thousand years. This, from your point of view, renders your argument useless. I agree with you that God would not withdraw the Apostles until the object was gained for which they were sent. But you admit that He did withdraw them and in doing so, you must admit that the object for which they were given was by that time attained, as God would not have withdrawn them until they had fulfilled the end for which they were sent. This proves that your explanation of the passage is a blunder, and we must look for its true meaning in some other direction.

"That apostles and prophets were given for the perfecting of the saints, is admitted on both sides. But that does not mean that apostles and prophets were to continue till all the saints were perfect. There never was a time, in this our mortal state, when all the saints were perfect, nor will there ever be such a time. But the apostles and prophets provide the means by which 'The man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works.' This beyond question is what is meant by the perfecting of the saints. Again, apostles and prophets were given 'till we all attain unto the unity of the faith' (R. V.). But that does not mean apostles and prophets had to continue until all who profess faith in Christ are in one mind on every subject. There never was such a time and, so far as I know, there never will be in this dispensation. The meaning of this clause need give no trouble to any intelligent reader of the New Testament.

The faith was once for all delivered to the saints by the apostles and prophets. But it was not delivered all at once; still God caused apostles and prophets to be continued until it was all delivered. It was all delivered before God withdraw the apostles and prophets. We could not be said to have attained unto the unity of the faith until it was delivered. Up till that time it was fragmentary, now it is a complete whole - a unit, each part fitting into the other and making a perfect whole. We have thus come or attained unto the unity of the faith. You think that this passage teaches that when the unity of the faith is attained there will be no longer error or division to trouble the followers of Christ. The passages teaches no such thing. But it does teach that when we reach that point we need not henceforth be children tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men and cunning craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive. I am making a present use of the passage in resisting your claims. Claims that you can give no proof for, and that only tend to deceive."

The foregoing gives a sample of what passed, so far as dealing with passages is concerned. He tried the "wicked and adulterous generation" trick, when I was pressing him for proof of his pretensions; but I stopped him in the same way that I stopped his friends at Coatbridge. Mr. Rushton is a fairly clever man, but that did not make up for his bad case. I did not hear of him repeating the boast that we as a religious body were afraid of the Reorganized Section of the Latter-day Saints. And I certainly saw nothing that evening to cause me to shun another encounter.

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