accomplishment I went to Whitechapel and rented a small room for a
week. I had with me a suit of plain clothes that I wore during the
daytime, but the scarlet uniform was conspicuous and soldier
Evangelists very rare, so in the mission halls and on the street
corners with the Salvation Army and other open-air preachers, I
exercised my one talent, and told the story of what I had now found a
name for--my conversion.

In the daytime I talked to costermongers, street venders, the
unemployed, and the corner loafers. One night I put my plain clothes
on and spent the night with the "wharf rats" on the banks of the
Thames.

For seven days and for seven nights I continuously told that simple
story--told it in few words, closing always with an appeal for a
change of life. I had spoken to the officer of the Horse Guards with
whom I had business of my intention, and he told me of a brother
officer who was very much interested in religious work among soldiers,
and directed me to his quarters.

The interview resulted in an invitation to a Sunday afternoon meeting
at the town house of a duke. It was the most gorgeous place I had ever
been in, and the audience was composed of the most aristocratic people
in London. I felt very much out of place and conspicuous because of my
uniform and station in life.

The first part of the meeting partook of the nature of a reception. I
watched the proceedings from the most obscure corner I could find.
Somebody rapped on the table. The hum of voices ceased, and there
stepped out, as the speaker of the afternoon, my friend of the
Possilpark Mission, Professor Drummond.

Up to that hour my theology related largely to another world, but his
explanation of a portion of Scripture was so clear and so convincing
to my simple mind, that I could neither miss its meaning nor avoid its
application. The professor was telling us that religion must be
related to life. Many years afterward I came across the treatise in
printed form. It was entitled, "The Programme of Christianity." The
officer of the Horse Guards by whose invitation I enjoyed this
privilege, introduced me to the lecturer and this personal touch,
though very slight, marked a distinct period in my development.
Drummond had pushed me out of one stage, and, by inviting me to
render an account of myself to him, inspired me into another.

My Bible studies had given me a longing to see the Holy Land. Perhaps
the longing was super-induced by the