to my lectures,
which went to the managers who arranged the tour, this was something
beyond my control. My personal arrangement with Major Pond was for a
certain fixed sum. They said in Europe that I charged too much to be
heard, that as a preacher of the Gospel I should have been more
moderate. If the management had been my own I should not have been so
greedy.

Because of this recollection and the regret it gave me, I decided to
make another tour at my own expense, and preach without price in all the
places I had previously visited as a lecturer. It was the most
exhausting, exciting, remarkable demonstration of religious enthusiasm I
have ever witnessed. It was an evangelistic yearning that could not be
repeated in another life-time.

The entire summer was a round of Gospel meetings, overflow meetings,
open-air meetings, a succession of scenes of blessing. From the time I
arrived in Liverpool, where that same night I addressed two large
assemblages, till I got through after a monster gathering at Edinburgh,
I missed but three Gospel appointments, and those because I was too
tired to stand up. I preached ninety-eight times in ninety-three days.

With nothing but Gospel themes I confronted multitudes. A collection was
always taken up at these gatherings for the benefit of local charities,
feeble churches, orphan asylums and other institutions. My services were
gratuitous.

It was the most wonderful summer of evangelical work I was ever
privileged to enjoy. There must have been much praying for me and my
welfare, or no mortal could have got through with the work. In every
city I went to, messages were passed into my ears for families in
America. The collection taken for the benefit of the Y.M.C.A. at Leeds
was about $6,000. During this visit I preached in Scenery Chapel,
London, in the pulpit where such consecrated souls as Rowland Hill and
Newman Hall and James Sherman had preached. I visited the "Red Horse
Hotel," of Stratford-on-Avon, where the chair and table used by
Washington Irving were as interesting to me as anything in Shakespeare's
cottage. The church where the poet is buried is over seven hundred years
old.

The most interesting place around London to me is in Chelsea, where, on
a narrow street, I entered the house of Thomas Carlyle. This great
author was away from London at the time. Entering a narrow hall, on the
left is the literary workshop, where some of the strongest thunderbolts
of the world's