His reply to the cotton-spinners is interesting as showing how fresh his sympathy still was with the sons of toil, and what respect he had for their position.  He congratulated himself on the Spartan training he had got at the Blantyre mill, which had really been the foundation of all the work he had done.  Poverty and hard work were often looked down on,—­he did not know why,—­for wickedness was the only thing that ought to be a reproach to any man.  Those that looked down on cotton-spinners with contempt were men who, had they been cotton-spinners at the beginning, would have been cotton-spinners to the end.  The life of toil was what belonged to the great majority of the race, and to be poor was no reproach.  The Saviour occupied the humble position that they had been born in, and he looked back on his own past life as having been spent in the same position in which the Saviour lived.

“My great object,” he said, “was to be like Him—­to imitate Him as far as He could be imitated.  We have not the power of working miracles, but we can do a little in the way of healing the sick, and I sought a medical education in order that I might be like Him.  In Africa I have had hard work.  I don’t know that any one in Africa despises a man who works hard.  I find that all eminent men work hard.  Eminent geologists, mineralogists, men of science in every department, if they attain eminence, work hard, and that both early and late.  That is just what we did.  Some of us have left the cotton-spinning, but I think that all of us who have been engaged in that occupation look back on it with feelings of complacency, and feel an interest in the course of our companions.  There is one thing in cotton-spinning that I always felt to be a privilege.  We were confined through the whole day, but when we got out to the green fields, and could wander through the shady woods, and rove about the whole country, we enjoyed it immensely.  We were delighted to see the flowers and the beautiful scenery.  We were prepared to admire.  We were taught by our confinement to rejoice in the beauties of nature, and when we got out we enjoyed ourselves to the fullest extent.”

At Hamilton an interesting meeting took place in the Congregational Chapel where he had been a worshiper in his youth.  Here he was emphatically at home; and he took the opportunity (as he often did) to say how little he liked the lionizing he was undergoing, and how unexpected all the honors were that had been showered upon him.  He had hoped to spend a short and quiet visit, and then return to his African work.  It was his sense of the kindness shown him, and the desire not to be disobliging, that made him accept the public invitations he was receiving.  But he did not wish to take the honor to himself, as if he had achieved anything by his own might or wisdom.  He thanked God sincerely for employing him as an instrument in his work.  One of the greatest honors was to be employed in winning souls to Christ, and proclaiming to the captives of Satan the liberty with which he had come to make them free.  He was thankful that to him, “the least of all saints,” this honor had been given.  He then proceeded to notice the presence of members of various Churches, and to advert to the broadening process that had been going on in his own mind while in Africa, which made him feel himself more than ever the brother of all: