near the door. I looked at him with the
conviction that I knew him, and yet could not recall the true mental
association, when the old smile broke over his face, and he burst into a
laugh, saying, 'Why, man, you don't know me' 'Yes, I do,' I replied,
'you're Gilmour; but I thought that at this moment you were in
Mongolia.' But when I was able to scrutinise him closely I was shocked
to see how very evident were the signs of stress and strain. It was not
wholly inexcusable, even in an old friend, to fail to instantly
recognise in the worn and apparently broken man, thought to be hard at
work many thousands of miles away, the strong and cheery Gilmour of
1883.

Carrying him off home, we talked far into the night, not because his
host thought it a good thing for the invalid, but because he was so full
of his work and its difficulties and its pressing needs, and what he
hoped to do on behalf of Mongolia by his visit home, that there seemed
no possible alternative but to let him talk himself weary. And how
splendidly he talked! He pictured his life at a Mongol inn. He ranged
over the whole opium and whisky and tobacco controversy. He gave, with
all the dramatic effect of which he was so great a master, the story of
how he forced home upon the Chinese and Mongols, until even _they_
admitted the force of the reasoning, how natural it was that famine
should visit them when they gave up their land to opium, and their grain
to the manufacture of whisky. He gave in rapid dialogue his own
questions, the native rejoinders, and he so vividly pictured the scene
that his hearer could fancy himself standing under the tent, surrounded
by Chinese and Mongols, and assenting, as they did, to the earnest and
far-reaching conclusions of the speaker.

CHAPTER X

PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS AS ILLUSTRATED BY LETTERS TO RELATIVES AND
FRIENDS

This break in active work affords a convenient occasion for exhibiting
in a still stronger light, by means of selections from his
correspondence, some important sides of James Gilmour's character. He
was a good correspondent and wrote freely to his relatives and friends.
We have quoted largely hitherto from his official reports and from
letters that refer to the condition and progress of his life-work. But
it is in the letters addressed to the circle of relatives and most
intimate friends that he reveals more fully the deeper side of his life,
and the strong and tender affection of his nature.