Chapter XVI
Preaching and defending the truths of the gospel in Belfast

DURING all my evangelistic life I have been considered the evangelist of the Slamannan District. I never gave up my connection with that district as long as I was fit for evangelistic work. Still, I have done a lot of work outside of that district. But this was reckoned special work, and I always left on the understanding that I returned to our own district when the special work was over. The city of Belfast got more of this kind of work than any one place. I have twice laboured in Belfast. Each time I went away expecting to labour there for six months, but each time I stayed there for twelve months. About twenty years ago our General Evangelistic Committee thought of giving some help to Ireland. I was glad to hear of it, for I had some warm-hearted Irish friends in Scotland.

In conversation with one of the G. E. C. I expressed my pleasure with the news that they were going to try and send some help to Ireland. I also informed him that if they had not a suitable man to send there, and thought that I would suit their purpose, if they could send some one to take my place at Slamannan for a time, I would go to Ireland. My hint was acted upon, and I was left free to go to the Green Isle. Their plan was to send two men together; they were to select a young man, if they could get one, to go with me. They arranged with Mr. John Straiton, a native of Slamannan, to go with me to Belfast. We got ready as soon as we could, and took boat for that city. We did not know any of the brethren there, but Mr. Joseph Paterson was to meet us at the boat when we landed. We had a pen-and-ink portrait of him, written by Mr. Geo. Collin. We spotted our man before the boat stopped. Mr. Straiton and I were both sure that if Mr. Paterson was there, that that was Mr. Paterson. We were right, and in less than five minutes we were at home in Ireland.

There were, I think, about twenty-two members in Belfast then, and we were soon upon the best of terms with them. Mr. Straiton was as good a helpmate as I could have got for Belfast. We knew each other well to begin with, and that was an advantage. Whilst pleased with the Belfast brethren generally, I remember that one small matter troubled me for a week or two. In small Churches, where all know each other, they are apt to get into the habit of waiting for one another; and suppose you are a few minutes late, well! it does not make much matter. But when you are advertising and doing your best to get strangers to come to the evening meeting, and a stranger comes a few minutes early, and he finds very few there, and the few who are there are straggled all over the place instead of all sitting together and all well forward near the speaker - I say, when this happens, it makes both you and the stranger feel like wishing that you were somewhere else. What a difference it makes to both speakers and hearers when the members come early and go well forward and sit compactly together; then a stranger coming in is more apt to go freely forward and take his seat beside the others, and feel more at ease than he otherwise would do. And though an audience is not large, if they sit compactly together, what a difference it makes to the speaker! Some of our Belfast friends did not think about this at the first, and it annoyed me a bit. But I could not expect them to alter, if I did not let them know how I felt about it; so I gave a few broad Scotch hints about the matter, and it soon came all right. But it is painful when a Scotchman has to give a broad hint. A broad hint from a Scotchman is often a good bit too broad. We are very clumsy, as a rule, at giving a delicate hint as to what we want. It was an Irishman who said, "God bless your cows, mistress, would you give us a drink?" A Scotchman could not have got round it like that. However, my Belfast friends did not take it badly, and we got on well together.

We all worked hard, but we made no immediate progress. It was about three months before there was much sign of increase. After that things moved on a little. There never was any great rush; we did not manage all we wished by a long way. Still, when I left at the end of a year's labour, the membership was three times as great as when we began. I dare not attempt anything like an outline of that year's work. Most of it may be described as ordinary gospel work.

Many different shades of religious belief are aired on the Custom House steps on a Sunday afternoon, and when weather permitted we generally had a meeting there. As a rule, I got a good audience at the "steps." An unusual experience grew out of that. The Christadelphians began to hand round tracts at our meetings. I did not like that, and lest we should be mistaken for Christadelphians, I decided to deliver an address in our hall on a Sunday evening that would make it clear that we had no sympathy with the literature that was sometimes given away at our outside meetings. Mr. Straiton managed the advertising. As that discourse was to be a little unusual, he suggested spending double the usual amount on advertising it, and he would try and make it more noticeable. I consented, and he got the space which he bargained for; but they moved his advertisement out of the usual columns for advertising religious meetings, with the result that very few saw our advertisement that week, and some wondered if for some reason we were to have no meeting that Lord's day evening.

Mr. Straiton did not care to be done in that fashion. To pay more money than usual and get less than usual value for it did not go down well with him; so he was at the newspaper office early on Monday forenoon to call their attention to what they had done. He said, "You ought in some way to make up for your mistake. I observe that you print a sermon by one and another in your columns now and again. You should print the substance of Mr. Anderson's sermon when you helped to deprive him of an audience last night." They promised to do so, if he could have it in their hands that afternoon or evening. I seldom write what I am going to say, and that sermon was not written. But we set to work, Mr. Straiton giving a hand, and it was at the newspaper office inside the time specified, and appeared next day. If we were disappointed on Saturday, we were more than pleased on Tuesday. The object I had in view was attained beyond my expectations. But when the sermon appeared in the papers it stirred our Christadelphian friends.

I had preached from Matt. x. 28, and though I did not deem it wise to spend all my time on points of difference, I ran counter to them on the nature of man and the future of the wicked. About a week after my sermon appeared in the papers, I had a letter from our friends informing me that on a certain evening one of their members would read a paper criticising my sermon. It would take about half an hour to read the paper, and if I cared to attend I would be allowed half an hour to reply. The person who was going to read the paper was named in my letter. I spoke to a man who knew the Christadelphians fairly well, and asked him what age the person was who was going to read the paper? "About the age of Mr. Straiton," he said. I then consulted with Bro. Straiton, and suggested that he should reply to the paper, as the writer and he were nearer the same age. He was willing, and I wrote asking them to allow Mr. Straiton to fill my place on account of the age of the writer. I got an answer advising me to despise no man's youth, but accepting Mr. Straiton in my place.

When we got to their hall on the night appointed, we found that a mistake had been made. Our friends had two men of the same name, and the man who was to read the paper was much nearer my age than Mr. Straiton's. As soon as I knew, I went to their leading men and explained how the mistake had taken place, but asking them to accept Mr. Straiton when the arrangement had been made. The person who read the paper seemed to be a very fine man. Bro. Straiton's reply gave general satisfaction. Even the other side had to admit that at some points it was very good.

We got to know afterwards that they had planned their work to the best advantage. The man who read the paper was the best man they had for that kind of thing, but he was not their best debater. We were informed that the meeting would go on for an hour after Mr. Straiton's reply to the paper, but the writer of the paper would take no further part in the meeting. Another man, however, would make a twenty minutes' reply to Mr. Straiton, then twenty minutes would be granted to some one on Mr. Straiton's side of the question. After that the man who spoke for the twenty minutes would take other ten minutes, and the closing ten minutes would be given to some one on Mr. Straiton's side. We found that the man who did the speaking on their side after the paper was their best debater. I replied to his twenty and ten minutes' speeches. At the close of his last speech, he gave a challenge to any man in Belfast to debate the subject they had in hand. At the close of my last ten minutes I said that I was still willing to leave the defence of my sermon in the hands of John Straiton against any man in Belfast, and I was willing to defend it against any person that they cared to bring. So a night's debate was arranged for on the spot between Bro. Straiton and the person who gave the challenge.

I was not feeling well, and had made arrangements to go to Scotland for a week before all this took place. That would take me away from the city before the debate came off. I thought it best not to alter my plan lest they should say that I had stayed to help Mr. Straiton. So I went off, and the debate was over before I came back. Our people were well pleased with the manner in which Bro. Straiton acquitted himself in that debate. At the close of the debate there was again a challenge given to continue the debate for one or more nights, the propositions to be arranged by letter. When I returned I found a correspondence going on that was not likely to result in anything satisfactory. They had learned that in a fair field they were likely to get the worst of it, and they were in for their old game of catch; neither Mr. Straiton nor I was willing to let them play that game. So we advertised a public meeting at which Bro. Straiton read the correspondence. He then read two propositions covering the main points in my address, and offered to meet any one in debate on these propositions. It was a large meeting, and that cleared the air. The people saw where we were standing, and that we were open and willing for a fair defence of our position. That meeting did a lot of good.

After the correspondence and the propositions were before the meeting I said, "There is still forty minutes to spare. I am now going to make a fifteen minutes' attack on Christadelphianism. Any of its friends can have fifteen minutes for a reply. We can then have five minutes, each and close." The gentleman who debated with Bro. Straiton filled in the two replies to me. During his last five minutes, when I had no opportunity for a reply, he said, "At death the soul of man is absorbed into an ocean of energy and loses all individuality as a drop of water does when it falls into the sea." The Christadelphians often say something like this. I thought I would like to press him on that point. So I wrote to him next morning, quoting his words, adding, "If you think you can prove this in public debate, I shall provide you with an opportunity of doing so. Please let me know if you are willing to try it?" He wrote his answer that night, and I got it next morning. I think I can give it in almost his own words; it was to this effect - "Mr. Anderson, Dear Sir, - After your treatment of me last night, I refuse to have anything more to do with you in regard to religious matters." I considered that a very satisfactory answer. It let me know that the battle was ended, so far as he and I were concerned. I was also next to certain that he would not meet Mr. Straiton again on a fair and pointed proposition. I was right, he did not take up Bro. Straiton's propositions. We did nothing to keep up the friction. Our object was to remove an obstruction; that being done, we went on with our usual work again.

I may mention another experience of a like nature which came our way in the city. It was more indirect, and again Mr. Straiton had more to do with it than I had. A small Church - some eight or nine members - almost identical with us existed in the city before we went, but we did not know of its existence. Bro. Straiton was passing the Custom-House steps one Sunday afternoon when he heard two men debating. One was a shipyard labourer belonging to the little Church just mentioned, and the other was a young doctor belonging to the "Brethren". The subject in dispute was the design of Baptism. The labourer was holding that Baptism preceded by faith and repentance is for the remission of sins. The doctor was teaching that justification was by faith alone. Mr. Straiton was surprised to find that the labourer was at one with us on the point that he was contending for. This caused him to inquire about both men. Bro. Straiton informed me as to what had come under his notice

I said, "Well, John, we shall have to know more about that little meeting. And though you say that the labourer held his ground well, still it is hardly an equal match. You cannot interfere between the two men, of course, unless you get a natural opening, but if you do get a natural opening you must take hold of that young doctor. The men will then be more equally matched." Shortly after this Bro. Straiton was informed that at their meeting at the Custom-House steps the previous Sunday the young doctor had given a public challenge offering to meet any one and debate the point of difference between him and the labourer. Bro. Straiton inquired as to their time of meeting, and went to their meeting at the steps on Sunday, and publicly accepted their challenge. They were not willing to go on with a public debate after Bro. Straiton did accept. All they were willing for then was a debate in a parlour with a dozen friends on each side as hearers. We accepted that rather than nothing. We half gained our object in publicly accepting their challenge. We knew that that would so far put a check on.

We met at the time and house agreed upon. The young doctor seemed inclined to talk to me before the debate started. He said, "I suppose that this is taking place according to your wish, Mr. Anderson." "That is so," I said. "I would rather have met you than Mr. Straiton." "If you had been an older man, you would have met me. But you and Mr. Straiton are more like each other." "What was your object?" he asked. "Well," I said, "you knew that we and the labourer that you were disputing with, believed the same thing in regard to the point in dispute. When you were opposing him you were throwing stones at us round the corner, and my object was to stop you, if I could. I may say that we are not inclined to interfere with others any more than we can help, but we believe what we preach and believe it is our duty to defend it; so it is part of my purpose to let you know that if you swagger while Mr. Straiton and I are in Belfast you will fight; if you don't wish to fight don't challenge, and we shall not be likely to disturb you."

There could hardly be two opinions as to Bro. Straiton having the best of the debate all the way through. This brought us to the end of public opposition, so far as our friends were concerned; and we went on with our usual work again. We thought that duty pointed in the direction of knowing more of the little gathering which had been the cause of the experience we have just recorded. Bro. Straiton took an active part in the matter, but we both got into touch with them, with the result that, after a good deal of come and go, they cast in their lot with us. One of them has been an elder in our connection in Belfast from shortly after that till now.

I have said enough to give some idea of my work in Belfast during my first visit. I left at the end of the year, Mr Mortimer came to fill my place, and Mr. Straiton remained with Mr. Mortimer. I made many friends in Belfast, and I left with the conviction that I might have spent a pleasant and useful life in Belfast. I left with the best wishes of those among whom I had laboured. I found the people upon the whole, cheerful and warm hearted. If a man is a sincere lover of peace, and does the best he can for peace, and is all the time ready for war, he can get along very well with the people of Ireland.

When I have Belfast in hand, I may make a few remarks about my second visit. It took place a number of years after my first visit. There had been a lack of harmony within the Church, and that always does harm. The meetings had suffered as a consequence and were small to begin with. The brethren suggested that I might try some lectures on controversial subjects on the Sunday afternoons, with a view to helping our Gospel meetings in the evening. I took their advice, and advertised a lecture on the "Kingdom of God," leaving myself open to questions at the close of the lecture. The Christadelphians think that they know all about this subject, and a section of them came out in some force to hear the lecture. Not the same men, however, that we had been in touch with during our first visit. These men went on briskly putting questions for an hour after the lecture. They grumbled when the time was up because they had not got all their questions put. I let them know that I was willing to continue the subject on the following Sunday afternoon. And I would then only take ten minutes to open up the subject, and would give all the rest of the time for questions.

This meeting was a fairly large and interesting meeting, and the next meeting was larger and showed more interest. The Gospel meetings began to grow from that time, and continued to improve. On the second Sunday afternoon also our friends kept at it with their questions all the time. But at the close they did not feel that they had gained anything; the feeling was in the other direction. They expressed their dissatisfaction. They admitted that they could not say that I had been unfair in any way, but they thought that if I would accept a challenge for a regular debate for an evening they could present their case to more advantage. I said that if they would take a week-night for the debate, they could have it, but I would not consent to it on the Sunday. That was agreed to. They said that they were anxious that I would consent to questions and answers during the debate. I said that I was willing that each man used his time as he pleased, he could ask questions all the time or speak all the time, or speak part of the time and ask questions part of the time, just as he pleased. They seemed to be surprised that I was just as willing for questions as all that. In making the arrangements, however, they limited the time for questions, and I accepted what they suggested.

It took some time to arrange for the debate, but it came off in due course. My friend on the other side was pledged to prove that at Christ's second coming all the dead saints would be raised from the dead and all the living saints changed; and that Christ and these glorified saints, with the angels, would reign over men and women in the flesh for a thousand years, births, deaths and marriages going on then as now. I was pledged to deny this. It was a large gathering and very orderly. We had each a half-hour to open with, and short speeches or rounds of questioning after that. I felt myself in fairly good trim for that evening's work. Some of my friends were of opinion that my first half-hour was one of the best speeches which I have delivered in Belfast. I am putting it tamely when I say that my friends were pleased with that debate. As I am only giving brief outlines of work, I cannot attempt to give the substance of the debate. But I may record one incident.

Mr. Robert Fleming was my chairman. During the debate he said to me, "Bro. Anderson, I can understand people holding these notions as matters of opinion, but to make our eternal salvation depend upon believing them - it is awful,. Press him hard on that point the next time you put questions." I considered it might be wise to do as my chairman wished. So when I next put questions I said, "You think that I should be punished with everlasting destruction because I differ from you on this subject?" "Yes," he replied. "Now before you hurl a person into everlasting destruction you should be very sure that you are right. You ought at least to have one passage which puts it beyond all question. Can you quote one such passage?" He gave Rev. xx. 1-10, as proving his case. I asked, "Are you sure that this proves your case?" "Yes." "You believe that there will be compulsory religion during that thousand years? that is, Christ and the saints will compel people to do right, or remove them?" "Yes," he replied.

"Well you get on all right with your compulsory religion as long as the devil is chained, but when he is let loose you have no show, you get beat. Do you believe that?" The Christadelphians do not believe in a personal devil, so instead of answering me, he asked, "What do you mean by the devil?" "Oh," I replied, "I shall let you make your own devil, and then you should be pleased with him. But do you believe in any power from anywhere that is able to defeat the Lord Jesus Christ and all the saints and angels, when they are ruling by force? Do you know of such a power at all?" He replied, "I do not." "Then," I said, "whatever may be the true meaning of this passage, yours is absurd. Do you still believe that I should be punished with everlasting destruction for not believing as you do on this subject, when you can only support it in that absurd fashion?" But again his reply was "Yes."

I then called his attention to 2 Thes, i. 6-10, and said, "These verses teach that when Christ comes with His mighty angels he will punish with everlasting destruction whose who know not God and obey not the Gospel. That will move them all out of a flesh-and-blood state. At the same time He is going to glorify all those who believe. That will in like manner move the saints out of this mortal state. Now if these two things happen when the Lord comes, where are you going to get people in their natural state to inhabit the earth after that? Where are your births, deaths, and marriages to come from for a thousand years after that?" He did not relish that question, but after hesitating he went on. "It is those," he said, "who know not God who are to be destroyed. But that expression implies some degree of responsibility. There may be left those who are not responsible, such as infants, idiots and conscientious heathens."

"But," I said, "in your first speech you told us what a glorious kingdom Christ was going to have when he came the second time. Has your glorious kingdom shrivelled up to this? Have we to picture to ourselves the glorified Christ with all the saints that ever were or ever will be also glorified, and in addition to all the angels of heaven coming to this little world of ours to take charge of a few infants and idiots and irresponsible heathens? Is that your conception of a glorious kingdom?" I got no answer, and perhaps I should have let it stand at that, but I put another question "Are you sure," I asked, "that the angels would make good wet-nurses for these infants, even if you had them here?" Neither did I get any answer to this. And believing that I had done enough in the direction indicated by my chairman, I let it rest there. We had a member whose leanings were to the side of my opponent on this subject. In the conversation afterwards he said, "You were perfectly fair, I have no fault to find now, but the other side was bound to feel your strength and their weakness at that point in particular, though it was evident all the way through."

The Sunday afternoon lectures went on and were well attended, but I do not think that I saw my opponent or his chairman after the debate. There was no lack of interest and no lack of questions at the close of the lectures, but the Christadelphians could not be said to be to the front in any particular way after the debate. Our evening Gospel meetings also kept up well, the one helped the other.

When the weather got better we decided to try the Custom House steps instead of the afternoon lectures. At the close of my last lecture, I asked the audience, "Would you advise me to leave myself open to questions at the close of my address at the 'steps' just as I have done in this hall?"

A Presbyterian who had attended nearly all the afternoon lectures and had often put questions, and always in an intelligent and good-natured way, rose and said, "No, Mr. Anderson, you must not leave yourself open at the 'steps' as you have done in this hall. That may do on Glasgow Green, but it is not safe on our Custom House steps. Scotchmen can discuss religion in the open air, and though they differ it ends in talk; but we have not got that length yet. When Irishmen discuss religion in the open, it is apt to end in something else than words. You have had the best of order in this hall, but you must not try it outside." He added, "Would you allow me before I sit down to thank you for your lectures. I have enjoyed them. You have clearly stated positions where differences of opinion are held. You have frankly taken your own stand and allowed any who pleased to oppose you. I question if any of the clergy in the city would care to do that. I thank you for the manner in which you have done your work. I have put questions freely, I have passed through your hands a number of times, often to my disadvantage, I have to admit, but even then your replies were of such a gentlemanly character that it was a pleasure to pass through your hands." I thanked him. I had the conviction at the time, and have it yet, that we have something to learn from our Irish friends. A Scotchman could hardly pay a compliment in the style that our Irish friend did it.

We had good meetings at the "steps," and our inside meetings also kept up very well. In this manner I got to the end of another year in Belfast. I have been back a time or two to see the friends there. But something unusual will have to take place if I visit them again. There is something naturally sad in thinking that you have paid your last visit to friends at a distance. Maybe that is wrong; it would perhaps be better to pay more attention to the brighter side, and thank our Father in Heaven that He was pleased to allow us to visit them as often as we did.

Chapter XVII
Kirkaldy and Seventh-Day Adventists

IN taking notice of places where I have laboured outside of our own district, I cannot pass over Fifeshire. I feel about as much at home in Fife as I do in our own district. The trouble is, I can only give a passing notice, and there are so many people that I know well there, and so many places and incidents present themselves to the mind, that if I begin I hardly see a stopping-place. What you mention must be a mere nothing compared with what you do not mention. Had there only been Dunfermline or Kirkaldy, one might have said a good deal about either of them, but when I put them both in, I realise that I have more than I can deal with. And when I add all the rest of the "Kingdom" to these two, I feel like saying, "My compliments to you all, friends," and pass on. In contending for the faith which was once for all delivered unto saints, I had one public experience in Fife, somewhat different from anything I have had elsewhere. I may say something about that in passing.

A few years ago the Seventh-day Adventists were trying to make themselves felt in Kirkaldy. They sent two men and a large-sized tent to that town. Through the local press they offered _200 reward for a passage of Scripture which said that the Sabbath was changed from the seventh to the first day of the week. They also talked about being willing to debate the differences between themselves and other religious bodies. Our friends at Kirkaldy wrote asking if I was free to come and pay some attention to these people. I expressed my willingness and set out for Fife. When informing our friends at Kirkaldy that we were willing to come, we asked them to offer through the local papers, _200 reward for a passage of Scripture which proved that Christians were ever commanded to observe the seventh-day Sabbath. That was a sufficient reply to their _200 reward. I at the same time asked them to arrange for a public debate.

When they tried to arrange for a debate they found that our Seventh-day friends were not willing to go on with it; but the chief man of the two in the tent offered to let me have the use of the tent for a night, that I might give my objections to Seventh-day Adventism. That offer was accepted. When it was announced in the tent that a gentleman was coming on a given night to lecture against Seventh-day Adventism, the second man in connection with the tent rose and asked for the name of the man who was coming. When he was told, he objected to me getting the use of the tent. He said, "I know that man, and he is not a Christian." However, the first man had given his consent and the second man could not hinder us.

On the night of my lecture the tent was crowded to its utmost capacity. They asked the liberty to make their usual collection to help to defray expenses; we raised no objection to that. Our Brother Thomas Harrow of Dysart took the chair. He thanked them for the use of the tent, and introduced me. Before beginning with my lecture, I said, "I have been informed that a gentleman in connection with this tent has publicly objected to my getting the use of the tent, on the ground that I am not a Christian. That gentleman is present. I invite him to come forward and publicly give proof for that statement, or publicly withdraw it." But he would do neither. He said, "I shall see you at the close of the meeting." "No, no," I said; "you made the charge in public, give the proof publicly, or publicly take it back." But he would do neither. He lost more by refusing to make his charge good than he had gained by making it. When he refused to come forward, I proceeded with my lecture.

I had a most attentive hearing, and a good many people knew more about the other side of Seventh-day Adventism after that evening. I went home after that lecture. Our friends in the tent gave three lectures in reply to my one. The press gave brief reports. A friend took notes and sent them to me, and I returned and gave another lecture in review of the three delivered in the tent. I did not get the tent for my second lecture. But I had a good audience; if not the best, at least one of the best I ever addressed in Sinclairtown chapel; and I have addressed a great many good audiences there. I am not in the habit of making long speeches, it is one of the sins that I have tried to keep clear of, knowing how many good preachers it has cursed, but that night I talked for over two hours. But the interest never flagged all the time. There were so many questionable statements, or statements worse than questionable, in the three lectures I was reviewing that though I had a fresh subject every three or five minutes, and moving along as fast as I could, it took me over two hours to get to the end of my task. But the people were so keenly alive to every point that it was a pleasure to address them.

I suppose I must let this do for my notice of Fifeshire. How often I have visited Fife, or how much labour I have given to it, one time and another, it is simply impossible for me to tell.

When I have the Seventh-Day people in hand I may mention how the second man in connection with the tent got to know me. Some time before I had the brush with the Seventh-Day people in Kirkaldy, I was preaching in Motherwell. A friend who lived in a mining village near Holytown Station called upon me. He told me that he and some other miners had been talking to a man who said that he belonged to the Seventh-Day Adventists. He was employed in selling their books. My friend said, "We were not equal to him in conversation. He seemed to know his ground well, and we knew very little about it."

My friend gave me a sample of what passed. He said, "The Seventh-Day man took us to the Ten Commandments. He read the first and then asked, "Do you all admit that this commandment is binding upon you?" We all said "Yes." He took us to the second and third in like manner. He said, "We shall pass over the fourth just now." He took us to all the others, and we all admitted that they were binding upon us. He then took us back to the Fourth Commandment and asked, "How comes it that this Commandment is not binding upon you? You admit that the other nine are binding upon you, and they were all given at the same time and by the same authority?" Some of us said that the Sabbath was changed from the seventh day to the first. He pressed us for our proof, and none of us could give it."

My friend continued, "My object is coming is to see if you are willing to have a conversation with this man, if I can arrange for it." I gave my consent, and when the time and place were fixed, I was sent for. We met in a miner's cottage with, I would say, over a dozen miners present. The conversation was not long commenced when he introduced the Ten Commandments in the manner that my friend had told me of. He read the First Commandment, and then asked, "Do you consider that this commandment is binding upon you?" I answered "No." He looked surprised and asked, "Did you say no?" "Yes," I replied, "I said no." "But," he asked, "how could you say no." "I said no," I replied, "because I could not in truth say anything else. That commandment was delivered to a people who were brought up 'out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.' I never was in Egypt, nor any of my ancestors, so far as I know. That the Ten Commandments were delivered to the Jews is certain; there is no proof that they ever were delivered to all the world." "Then," he said, "you will consider yourself at liberty to kill, or steal, or bear false witness."

"That does not follow as a consequence," I replied. "I am not a Jew, and I am not and never was under the law of Moses, but that does not prove that I am under no law. I am under law to Christ. There is any amount of proof that Christians are not under the Law, but the commands of Christ and His Apostles are binding upon Christians. Nine of the Ten Commandments have been made binding upon Christians. But Christians never were commanded to keep the Seventh-Day sabbath. And Christian Churches from the first met for worship on the first day of the week. In the New Testament, Christians are never commanded to keep the seventh day, nor are they ever blamed for not keeping it." Our Seventh-Day friend tried hard to break down this position, but it was no use, I could hold it easily. And our mining friends were pleased that I had come to their aid. They were anxious that we should have another evening's conversation, and we both consented to meet again next week.

It fared worse with our Seventh-Day friend in the second conversation that it had done in the first. Towards the close of the second conversation our friend became a bit nasty, and told me that he would "waste no more time on me." Our mining friends who heard the conversations did not wonder at that; they knew that he had got as much of my conversation as he wished to have. We parted in this fashion, and the next time that I heard of him he was declaring in the tent at Kirkaldy that he knew me and I was not a Christian. I have already recorded that he refused to come forward and prove this charge as publicly as he had made it. As I was about to go out of the tent that night that I spoke in it, he called me aside. "No," I said, "I refuse to speak to you by yourself; anything that passed between us must be in the hearing of a witness or two." Two or three came forward, and he asked, "Do you remember having conversation with me at Holytown?" "Yes," I replied. "Well," he said, "the second night you sneered. I distinctly saw you." I replied, "I am not conscious of it if I did. Is it upon this and this alone that you found your charge that I am not a Christian?" "Yes," was his reply. I said, "If a person behaves in a contemptible way, I have never been able to convince myself that I have sinned, even if I, in some degree, show the contempt which I cannot help but feel."

I do not know that I sneered at Holytown, but I felt rather like sneering that night when I left the tent. When people cannot meet your argument they are apt to fault your manner. As a rule, we should be pleased when they are driven to that. If he had been able to defend his cause at Holytown, he would have been less likely to impeach my character at Kirkcaldy.

I need not say more about the Seventh-Day Adventists. Books dealing with their errors can easily be got. Perhaps D. M. Cartwright's book is the best. His long connection with them gave him an extensive knowledge of them. Our brethren in Australia have a number of very good tracts on this subject. These tracts alone are enough to show the main errors of Seventh-Day Adventism.

Chapter XVIII
Visits to the North and preaching among the fishermen

I CANNOT give even a brief outline of my religious experience and leave the North of Scotland out. One time and another, extending over a considerable number of years, I have visited different places in the North of Scotland. A photo on the wall, taken by Bro. Watt, reminds me that I visited Dundee a good many years ago. It also calls to mind many a pleasant chat I had with the man who took the photo. I knew Salem Chapel better than I knew Constitution Road; though I preached in both places, my visits to Salem Chapel were more frequent. I enjoyed my visits there, though there was often some cause for pain. I generally found there men of intelligence and piety. With wise and harmonious pulling together Salem Chapel would have been the meeting place of one of our strongest Churches in Scotland. But want of harmony went a long way towards spoiling the results of pious energy. And Churches are like individuals, or for that matter like nations, if they get into a groove it is not easy to get out. If we could all be roused to a proper sense of our responsibility in this matter what a difference it would make to some Churches!

But with all its imperfections, memory recalls many happy seasons of spiritual and social intercourse which I had with brethren in connection with Salem Chapel. Shall I just name one of them? I shall name one who would not have been likely to have got into a sulky mood, no matter whether you took much notice of him or not. I spent many pleasant hours with the late James Chisholm. If any subject or incident had a humorous side Mr. Chisholm was sure to see that the first thing. His joke had to come first no matter how serious the next thing might be. But beneath all that, there was a piety, honesty, and earnestness which rose above all question. His faith in Christ and his deep decision for the faith once for all delivered to the saints, were as steady as the needle to the pole.

Just a sample out of many which occur to my mind. We were out for a walk one day. A gentleman met Mr. Chisholm and stopped to speak to him. After the gentleman had moved off, I asked, "Who is that, Bro. Chisholm?" "He was once a brother of mine," he replied. "And what is he now?" "He belongs to what we sometimes call 'The Kingdom-Come Folks.'" "That does not help me much, Bro. Chisholm. Please, name something that he now believes?" "Well," he replied, "at the second coming of Christ, we have all to be gathered together at one place. I do not know where, but somewhere; and 'Davie' there and his Brethren are to have rods of iron and they are going to make fell work among us." I had then some idea where to locate Mr. Chisholm's friend. But I could never forget Bro. Chisholm's description of his friend's hope in connection with the Lord's second coming.

I have also visited Aberdeen a good many times, with a considerable number of years between my first and last visits. I have always found an intelligent, earnest, hard-working Church there, but often facing untoward circumstances over which they had no control. I often found them doing their duty under adverse circumstances in a manner which called forth my admiration. When a little Church against heavy odds, steadily does its duty, it appeals to me in a way that a large Church never does. For many years that Church was put to a good deal of disadvantage for the want of suitable halls to meet in. This pressed them to build a chapel, which was a heavy burden considering their numbers. Though I could not always do them all the good that I could have wished, it never failed to give me the greatest pleasure to help a Church which walked up to its difficulties and did its best with them. I had generally this pleasure when I visited Aberdeen.

My work at Aberdeen was, for the greater part, of an ordinary Gospel nature, preaching inside and outside as circumstances demanded. I need not therefore take up time in describing it. I may mention one exception to that general rule. Controversy in an Aberdeen evening newspaper, on the subject of non-churchgoing, in which the Rev. Alexander Webster, Unitarian Minister, and one of our members were among those who took part, led to Mr. Webster being asked if he was willing to have a public debate on the destiny of the wicked? His consent being obtained, I was asked by our Church in Aberdeen to represent them in that debate. Mr. Webster's committee were fair, intelligent men, and there was little trouble in making the arrangements. The debate was held in the Trades Hall, Aberdeen, on Monday, 9th, and Tuesday, 10th December, 1901. There was good order and large attentive audiences. On the first night I took the affirmative on the question, "Does Jesus teach that the wicked will suffer endless punishment?" On the second night Mr. Webster took the affirmative on the question, "Does Jesus teach that all mankind will finally be lifted up to holiness and happiness?" As that debate was printed, there are grounds for those who wish to do so forming their own opinions as to the merits of either side. But I may perhaps be permitted to say that a goodly number of persons outside of our connection thanked me for the part I played in that debate.

Mr. Webster and I agreed to be mutually responsible for engaging a reporter and printing the debate. We did not manage, however, to carry out this part of the agreement. Mr. Webster wished all expression of applause by the audience to be removed from the report, as it lowered the dignity of the debate. I consented to that. He expressed a desire that each of us should have a few pages in connection with each copy of the debate on which to advertise our literature. I refused to have anything to do with advertising literature which I could not endorse. He wished the debate to be abridged, so that it might be sold more cheaply. I insisted that the debate be printed as nearly as possible as it took place, or not at all. After weeks of time were thus lost in trying to come to an agreement, Mr. Webster backed out of all responsibility in connection with the printing of the debate.

Mr. Webster was by that time lecturing on the debate on the Sunday evening. My friends then advised me not to go on with the printing. They said that the weeks lost were valuable from a monetary point of view. That interest in the debate was beginning to die down, and I would be almost sure to lose by it if I printed. However, I resolved that when I had gone so far I would see the thing through, and I asked my friends in Aberdeen to go on with the printing on my responsibility. I had no further trouble with that debate. My friends in Aberdeen were very capable of looking after the printing, and I left everything to them and they did the work willingly. Nor did I lose anything. It cleared the expense of printing and a little over.

In that debate I found nothing that tended to cause me to alter the position which I had taken up, but I found much to confirm me in the truth of what I was contending for. I kept well before the audience that I was running no risk even if I was mistaken in regard to what I was contending for. That is, serving God and thus living a holy life here resulted in greater happiness even here than if you lived a wicked life, and at the same time it made sure of you living on the right side for eternity, no matter which of us had the truth on our side in the debate. On the other hand, if you believed what Mr. Webster taught that, no matter how you lived or died, you would finally be lifted up to holiness and happiness, if in view of this you ventured upon living a godless life, you might learn when it was too late that you had made an eternal mistake. You had lost everything in eternity and had gained nothing in time. How Mr. Webster dared to take this terrible responsibility upon himself with no better arguments to support his cause than those be presented, is more than I can tell.

I have often been further north than Aberdeen, and one time and another, I have spent a good deal of time among the fishermen of Banffshire. At first this was largely a new experience. A change of place had been quite a common thing for me for years, but this was more than a change of place, it was to a considerable extent a change of people. The dress and calling and habits of the people were in many respects different from what I have been used to. Nevertheless, I was at home among them from the very start. In some things they were akin to the miners among whom I had lived the greater part of my time. They did not often try to be genteel, or to give themselves airs. As a rule they were religious, or they did not pretend to be. Those who were religious had generally the courage of their convictions. Next to the man who is earnestly contending for what you believe to be right, you prefer the man whom if he does not believe as you do, frankly and openly expresses his dissent. I have found a fair share of this kind of thing among both fishermen and miners. If a man be either for or against you, you know where you are, and have some idea what to do.

The manner in which the fishing was conducted, in so far as work and wages, or rather capital and labour, were concerned, interested me. In the ordinary sense of the word "wages," the Banffshire fisherman cannot, as a rule, be said to work for wages. A man who has not a boat of his own, or a share in a boat, generally engages himself to work in connection with a certain boat for the season. A certain proportion of the value of fish sold goes to the boat and the nets; and what remains is shared equally among the crew, the skipper getting no more than an ordinary fisherman. This induces every man to do his best, and I never heard of a strike among them. The man who buys a boat cannot always lay down its full value in cash, but he can borrow at fair interest what he is short. Thus capital gets no more than what is due to it, and the rest goes to the boat and nets and labour. If other industries could be managed in this way it would be better for all concerned. In some industries it may be difficult to manage, but a great deal more could be done in this way than is being done. These fishermen did not so much fight their way into this position as they grew into it. Very few of them realise the value of this position, and I fear they will not always have the good sense to guard it. Now that steam-power is common and boats more costly, their danger is greater.

At my first visit to Buckie I had not even a rough outline of the method of herring fishing. I asked a big, good-natured brother, who had put himself to a good deal of trouble in calm and storm to take me round to one place and another, if he would be kind enough to explain to me the method of putting the nets out and taking them in, the position of the nets when in the water, etc. I could hardly get him to begin, considering his willingness up to that point, to do anything I wished. I could not understand his reluctance. However, he did begin; I paid the best attention possible to what he said, and from that time to this, I have had some understanding of the process of herring fishing. He satisfied himself that I had got hold of the outline he had given, and then he told me why he was loath to begin to try and instruct me as to the method of fishing for herrings. He named a preacher whom I knew very well, and said, "I was in conversation with him at one time. He seemed to wish to know something about herring fishing. I explained the matter to him as I have done to you. I thought that he was paying attention, but when I had finished, he said, 'Tell me this, Bro. Slater, do you throw these nets into the sea all in a lump?' I made up my mind then that I would not, if I could help it, try again to describe herring fishing to a preacher."

You are always sure of good meetings at Buckie when the fishermen are at home. Their manly earnestness makes it very refreshing to work among them. So far as my experience goes the Higher Critic has not managed to poison many of them. I have preached in nearly all the fishing villages between Buckie and Banff, but in the brief outline I am giving, I dare not venture upon particulars. We have no Church in Cullen, but a number of our Portknockie members live there. At one time I spoke for a number of Sunday evenings in succession in the Town Hall of Cullen, and had very good meetings.

During one of my visits to Portknockie a young fisherman was drowned at sea. His body was recovered and brought home. The funeral took place on a Sunday afternoon. A large number of fishermen from Portknockie and neighbouring villages attended the funeral. The cemetery was about a mile distant, and the coffin was carried by the men. When we were ready to set out for the cemetery, about a hundred young women, two abreast, took up their position in front of the coffin. This was done without the slightest bustle or confusion. Each one had arranged with a partner, and each pair was about pace behind the pair in front of them. They were all dressed alike, and all well dressed. Each had a black dress of good material and a black shoulder-shawl. They were all bare-headed, no hat, no jacket, no umbrella. There was a hard dry snow driven by a bitterly cold wind, but each girl walked with head erect regardless of the blast. I knew the parents of the young man who was drowned, and I was deeply impressed by that funeral.

You may visit any of the towns I have mentioned, and have very little idea of the extent of the herring fishing industry. My first visit to Fraserburgh during a fishing season enlarged my conceptions in that respect in a wonderful degree. I knew before that, of course, that there was a lot of herring fishing, but I did not till then think that one small town like Fraserburgh would have more tons of herrings landed in it in one day than there are tons of coal produced in a day from one of our largest collieries, but it is so. I did not till then think that there were as many herrings used in all the world as there are herrings caught at Fraserburgh. When I used to visit Fraserburgh, about 700 boats were there for the fishing season. Only a small proportion of these belonged to the town. There were boats from a great many different places. And many of the fishermen from other places brought their wives and families there for the season.

We always got large open-air meetings on the Sunday evenings. These were a kind of Pentecostal meetings. We had people there from a great many different places. These meetings were so generally good that you do not feel inclined to particularise in regard to them. Still in my experience one of those meetings did rise a bit above the others. False reports were being handed round concerning our belief in regard to the work of the Holy Spirit. That caused me to announce that I would deal with that subject on the following Sunday evening. That brought a larger crowd than usual. I stood on a pile of wood at the end of a house near the quay. There was plenty of space right and left and in front. The people stood closely packed together from where I stood, as far out as they could hear me, and my voice was fairly good then. For an ordinary Gospel meeting that was, I think, the largest meeting I ever addressed. I could not have had a more patient or attentive hearing. I had a few questions put at the close - that was not uncommon - but there was no attempt in any of the questions to shake any of the points which I had made in my address.

That discourse was destined to pass before more minds than any other one I have delivered. Over a thousand people heard it to begin with. About that time the editor of the "Bible Advocate" asked some of our preachers to send him a photo and a sermon for publication. Some of my friends had asked me to print that sermon, so I decided to send the substance of it to the editor, and those who wished to see it in print could see it there. Friends in Australia copied it from the "Bible Advocate" and gave it a place in their magazine there, so that it was read on the other side of our little world. I have also been informed, but I am speaking from hearsay, that a number of articles from that magazine were printed in book form, under the title of "Pure Gold," and my sermon was honoured by giving it a place there. In addition to that I have three times printed it in pamphlet form. I do not know of another address of mine that has had as wide a circulation. I think I am safe in saying that I have received more thanks and expressions of approval for that sermon that any other one that I have delivered. I had very little expectation of all this when I delivered it.

Beginning at Stornoway in the early summer of 1901, I spent nearly a whole year among the fishermen. Fred Cowin and I went to Stornoway at the beginning of the fishing season that year, and were there for two months. We had good open-air meetings every Sunday evening, and, as at Fraserburgh, we had men from a great many different places. There was not much opportunity for meetings during the week, but we had a good deal of conversation with individuals. We had good weather nearly all the time we were there, and we had daylight nearly all the time. Darkness could hardly be said to have set in till daylight began to dawn.

There was a considerable difference between there and Glasgow in that respect. The last Sunday we were there was the only one on which the rain looked like stopping our Sunday evening outside meeting. Though it rained all the time, over two hundred people came to the meeting. I took shelter in a porch while Bro. Cowin was speaking. When he finished I stepped out. We generally sang a few verses of a Scottish paraphrase between the speakers. Bro. Wm. Reid of Buckie was conducting the meeting. When I got to his side he asked, "Shall we sing?" "No," I said, "I think you had better not. People will not stand and sing in rain like that, they will go away." "Oh no," he said, "they will not go away." "Then please yourself, Bro. Reid." So we sang in the rain, and the audience remained until after I had spoken. It is a rare thing to see a man in a fisherman's garb with an umbrella up. There were no umbrellas, and they all stood as patiently as if the sun had been shining.

When we left Stornoway Bro. Cowin and I went to Fraserburgh, and were there during the fishing season. We had large meetings every Sunday evening. When the season was over at Fraserburgh, I went south to the English fishing. Bro. Cowin did not go south with me, but the General Evangelistic Committee sent help from somewhere every Sunday. I had help from Liverpool, Leeds and London. The first two weeks I was at Scarborough. There were only a few fishing boats there. Fishing boats are hardly wanted in that grand place. However, I had a pleasant time with the little Church there, and was very well cared for. We had fairly good open-air meetings in which I took part. A Scotch fisherman was baptised in the sea after one of those meetings.

After two weeks at Scarborough, I went on to Yarmouth. Like the other places, the fishing season there lasts about two months. I was there most of the time; one Sunday or two I was at Lowestoft. Again we had good outside meetings on the Sunday evenings. Though we have no Church in Stornoway, Fraserburgh, or Yarmouth, we had always a good meeting for Breaking of Bread on Lord's Day.

As soon as our brethren get to these places some of them consult together and take a hall and fix the time for meeting and make it known among themselves. There are always brethren from a number of different Churches, but they are brethren, and they know each other and come together on that day. I was pleased to see the prompt action of the brethren in looking out halls for this purpose. They do not look upon being from home as being any excuse for them not meeting on the first day of the week.

At Stornoway and Fraserburgh there was no fishing on Sunday. When we got to Yarmouth that was changed. The Scotch fishermen own or control their own boats, and they all strictly adhere to resting on the Sunday. The English fishermen are not their own masters, and must go to sea when they get orders. When I was at any of the Scotch fishing stations, I took it as a matter of course that there would be no fishing on Sunday. At Yarmouth we held our outside meeting on the quay on the Sunday afternoon. In going to the place of meeting it was quite a common thing to pass English boats, at which they were busy discharging fish. It occurred to me then that it would not be surprising though some of the Scotch boats gave way and fell into line with the English boats; but not one of them did so, so far as I know.

One week I thought that the temptation for the Scotch to depart from their ordinary rule was a bit strong. That week all the boats went out on Monday as usual, and came in with a considerable quantity of fish on Tuesday. But on Tuesday the wind rose to something like a gale, and no boats could get out. The wind did not fall till Saturday, so there was no more fish landed that week. The wind fell on Saturday. But to go out on Saturday meant that you would be discharging fish on Sunday. All the English boats put out to sea on Saturday when the wind fell, but not a single Scotch boat left its berth. On Sunday as we went to our open-air meeting, tons of fish were being discharged from the English boats, but I did not hear any remark in regard to it from a Scotch fisherman, nor did they seem the least inclined to depart from strictly observing the day of rest. I have already spoken of how the Scotch fishermen are paid, and I have no doubt that that does more than make up for any loss they have in strictly observing the day of rest.

After the fishing was over at Yarmouth, when I had been a few days at home, I again went north among the fishermen, and, beginning at Buckie, I preached in the fishing towns of that district. Putting all this together I was at that time for the greater part of a year among the fisher-people. Though I had been in a number of different places, I was to a considerable extent preaching to the same persons all the time.

I was impressed then, and I am of the same opinion still, that a suitable evangelist or two should all the time be doing the work which I was doing that year, and hope that what I have just said does not convey the idea to any one that when there is no evangelist at these places I have mentioned, our brethren do no preaching there. That would be a long way from being true. There are some good preachers among our fishing brethren, they are faithful, fearless men, who do not shrink from declaring all the counsel of God, so far as they know it, and do so when they have an opportunity; all the same, a suitable evangelist is a great help to them. I have now, perhaps, devoted enough space to my work among the fisher-people.

I can hardly take leave of the north without naming some of the small inland Churches which I had the pleasure of visiting. I have been a number of times with the little Church at Cairnie, and I have always had very great pleasure in being there. The Church meets in the large kitchen at Bro. Wilson's farm. There is no village near; farm houses and crofters' homes contain the sparse population of the district. And yet I have often, on cold winter nights, with the ground covered to a considerable depth with snow, spoken to packed meetings in that large kitchen. You wondered where the people came from, and you had great pleasure in speaking to them. All these people came by invitation, which meant a lot of labour to the little Church there - to the Wilson family in particular. I have already stated that my pleasure in helping a little Church is, and has always been, greater than in helping a large Church.

I have been a few times to the little Church at Craigston. The last time I was there the Church was meeting in a little hall at the mill of Craigston. Like Cairnie, there is not even a village where the Church meets, and, again like Cairnie, I have sometimes been surprised at the meetings I got there. It is not far from Banff to Craigston, but one of my journeys from the one place to the other has impressed itself upon my memory. You have to go up a hillside from Banff Bridge to Banff Bridge Station. But that day the wind was strong enough to propel you up the incline. It was a keen frost and a good deal of snow on the ground. A young man who assists his father at the mill, a son of Mr. Morrison of the mill of Craigston, met me with a sledge at the nearest railway station. A vehicle on wheels would not have been of much use on the road we had to travel. He provided me with a cap which had laps to tie down over my ears. I placed my hat down in the body of the sledge, where I considered it would be quite safe, and we set off for Craigston. I have seldom been out in such a wind. It sometimes looked as if it would lift both horse and sledge. It swirled my hat out of the bottom of the sledge, and sent it whirling up a field over the deep snow. It was caught in a hedge near a farm, a field length away. I should never have thought of going after that hat; it was too much to pay for a hat. Young Mr. Morrison would not go on without it, however, and set out after it and brought it back. It was no child's play, I assure you.

With a man and a horse that knew their business, we got to the mill of Craigston without further mishap. Round the cheerful fire, amidst the intelligent conversation of Brother and Sister Morrison and family, we soon forgot the storm which was raging without. This was on a Saturday; on Lord's Day morning, a greater portion of the members than I expected, assembled for worship and Breaking of Bread. The wind had gone down by that time, and the young man who had brought me from the station the day before volunteered to go round the neighbourhood and invite the people to a meeting in the evening, it I would address them. I gladly consented. I was surprised that any one should attempt the task of going round the neighbourhood, and I did not expect that many would venture out through the snow. But the hall was well filled in the evening, nearly as many women as men, and it was abundantly evident that many of them had come through snow about knee-deep. You could not help having a deep interest in addressing a meeting which had been got up under such circumstances. Like my visits to Cairnie, I always enjoyed my visits to Craigston.

I have given more space to the north than I intended, but I must briefly notice other two places before I leave it. I have been a few times to Aberchirder, a clean, compact little burgh, lying about eight miles from Banff and nearly as many miles from a railway station. When there I was generally the guest of our late Brother and Sister Auchinachie, and that was always a treat. They were both very intelligent, and deeply interested in religious matters. Bro. Auchinachie was somewhat slow to speak, though he could not be said to speak slowly. He thought quickly and clearly and acted promptly. He had a well-stored mind and a large and carefully selected library; his conversation was always profitable. He was a wise, fatherly guide to the little Church there.

Once or twice I was driven by Bro. Munro of Banff from there to Aberchirder on the Sunday morning and back again in the evening. To drive is often a pleasure when the weather is passable, and the horse is equal to its work; but when you sit and pity the poor horse all the time, it is rather a painful sensation. Bro. Munro's mare tended to make driving a pleasure. She required no urging, seemed all the time to be going quite easily, so easily that it did not strike you that you were going quickly; all the same, she quietly passed every other thing of the same kind going in the same direction. I was driven a number of times by Bro. Munro, and each time I had the same impression. Bro. Munro was at that time Provost of Banff, and Bro. Auchinachie was Provost of Aberchirder. I feel inclined to mention this, as it is seldom that a strolling preacher like myself is driven by one Provost to be the guest of another.

I have also visited the town of Elgin a few times. That is a harder field for us to work than any of the others I have mentioned in the north. Where the bulk of the people are made up of the better sort of the working class, the Gospel of Christ is more likely to take effect. Above or below that line you have harder work, and a considerable portion of the town of Elgin is above or below that line. When I first went there I had a very willing helper in Bro. James Tulloch, now in South Africa. He never failed you; to the extent of his ability you could count upon him. I was nearing the end of my first visit before I made the acquaintance of Bro. Hay, who has had the heaviest part of the burden to bear there for a number of years. All honour to the men who hold the fort under such circumstances. We hope that the sowing there may yet produce a harvest. I have been a number of times there, but I have never been able to give the help I could have wished. I am very deeply convinced that God will richly bless the men who fight those uphill battles.

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