I was at Crofthead some considerable time before what is now known as "The Slamannan District Co-operation of Churches" was formed. That co-operation was formed for the purpose of arranging for an exchange of speakers among the Churches. When that Speaking Plan was put in operation, it still further widened my acquaintance with the Churches of the district.

At a conference in connection with this co-operation of Churches, in the spring of 1875, it was resolved to try and arrange for an evangelist in the district. It was also resolved that I should be asked to become evangelist for the district. For reasons which seemed to me important, I decided to be their evangelist for a year; but I had no intention of staying longer than that. But we do not always get our plans carried out. I never really cut that connection for thirty-six years, and even then I only gave it up because age and failing strength compelled me. I was at many other places during that time, where it was considered best that I should go, but I never severed my connection with the Slamannan District. To other districts or divisions I was said to be "lent."

I made my beginning as an evangelist at Crofthead in March, 1875. I had a pleasant beginning. Charles Abercrombie, evangelist, had come to Crofthead to give a month's labour there. So I had the pleasure of his company for the first month. We had many another spell together, and always enjoyed it.

One of our young men at Crofthead was a member of the Y.M.C.A. The United Presbyterian minister had an assistant, a Mr. McMillan, who took an active part in the Y.M.C.A. On the first or second Sunday that Mr. Abercrombie and I were together something had been said about baptism in the Y.M.C.A. meeting. Our young member and Mr. McMillan did not say the same thing on that subject, with the result that Mr. McMillan challenged the young man to debate the subject. The young man said that he did not consider himself fit for that. Mr. McMillan then gave a challenge to any Baptist in the district. We are generally called Baptists in Crofthead, the challenge was intended to cover us. The young man put it before the elders. They did not think that it should be allowed to pass. The elders put it before the evangelists. Being the younger man of the two, I thought that task should naturally fall to me. That was agreed to, and Mr. McMillan was informed that I was willing to meet him. We met as soon as the thing could be arranged. Again it was baptism as a condition of pardon which was the main contention.

I put Acts 2:38 before him in much the same way in which I put it before the Bible Class and which led to the debate with Mr. Mathieson. I also quoted Acts 12:16, "And now, why tarriest thou? Arise and be baptized, and wash away thy sins, calling on the name of the Lord." I pointed out that Paul had believed on the Lord Jesus Christ before this, he had also repented, still he was not saved, he was only in an anxious state. He was not commanded to believe or repent for these had already been attended to. But, before peace, came the command to be baptized. This was in keeping with what Jesus had enjoined: "He that believeth and is baptized, shall be saved." I also called attention to Gal. 3:27: "For as many of you as have been baptized into Christ, have put on Christ," and said that this passage taught that baptism had to do with putting us into Christ, and that no one denied that in Christ we are safe, and out of Him we are not.

Mr. McMillan made scarcely any attempt to move me from the position I took up. He spent most of his time on passages which prove that faith is in order to salvation. We replied that we held faith to be in order to salvation as strongly as he did, but pressed him for a passage which said that salvation was by faith alone. We also put some stress upon the fact that we demanded all before baptism which they pled for in order to pardon. Therefore if they were safe we were safe, and if there was any risk it was on their side, for they were leaving out what was just as clearly commanded as faith was. The debate did us no harm, and our people did not seem to be ashamed of the part I played in it.

A Mr. Halliday from Overtown was at the debate. He was preparing himself for a missionary, and knew a little English and a little Greek, and was very pleased about it and pleased with himself generally. As we went out from the debate we found Mr. Halliday with a number of people round him. He was loudly proclaiming what he would have done with me if I had fallen into his hands, instead of Mr. McMillan's. I passed on, of course, and took no notice. After Mr. Halliday went home he wrote to our elders at Crofthead asking them to arrange for a debate between him and me. They let him know that they did not see their way to do that, but Mr. Anderson would be moving about in one place and another, and they had no doubt that if Mr. Halliday made an attack upon him he would try and defend himself.

Overtown was the next place that I went to after Crofthead. I intended to have some open-air meetings. My first meeting was some little distance from where Mr. Halliday dwelt, but I sent a boy to that place to intimate the meeting so that Mr. Halliday might know about it and come if he felt inclined. He came to the meeting; I gave opportunity for questions at the close of the meeting; but he did not put any. I moved away in company with a few friends. Looking back I saw Mr. Halliday and a few of his friends coming on behind. When we came to the cottage where I had to stay overnight we stopped to talk, and Mr. Halliday and his friends joined us and we entered into conversation. We had, in a very short time, as big an audience as the one I had addressed. I did not find Mr. Halliday a stronger man than Mr. McMillan. Any difference there was lay in the other direction. It was a rambling conversation. After a while, to my surprise, he asked, "Why have you gone to so many different places?" "Do you not know that?" I asked. "No, I do not." "Then I shall tell you," I replied. "You have run, and I have run after you, and that is why we have got to so many places; if you doubt that, mark the point we have in hands just now, and we shall see which of us is the first to move from it." It fared badly with Mr. Halliday when he was tied up to a point. In a short time, to escape from a fix, he denied a statement he had made. I appealed to the audience as to whether he had made the statement or not. "Never mind the audience," he said, "mind me." "I have very little interest in talking to you for your own sake," I replied. "Why?" he asked. "Because I think that you are hardly worth it, you know a little English and a little Greek and you are puffed up over it; there is more conceit than Christianity about you; there is very little of the soul of a preacher in you, and I have very little interest in talking to you for your own sake."

Just then a friend of Mr. Halliday's who was also preparing himself for a missionary, came forward, with a Bible under his arm - he seemed to have been at a religious meeting. He stepped into the circle and said, "This is a fine meeting; and you are arguing too! This is disgraceful; be quiet, please, and I shall preach." "I have been preaching," I replied. "And though I have been defending what I said, I do not consider that my conduct is disgraceful. If you do not apologize for that remark you will not preach quietly." Mr. Halliday then said, "You could not preach to please that man, he holds that baptism has to do with pardon." "Does he, indeed?" said Mr. Duncan. "I could meet him any time to prove that the Scriptures contain no such dogma." "Well," I said, "I shall try and make my time suit yours." "Oh," he replied, "fix your own time, make your own rules, and appoint your own chairman." So I fixed that we should meet in the open air next evening. I also fixed the length of time for the debate and the length of time for the speeches. I think I fixed for ten-minutes speeches and two hours in all.

So Mr. Geo. Duncan and I met next evening. There was a large meeting. I mentioned that Mr. Duncan had left me free to appoint any man I pleased for chairman, but as I did not wish any favour, I asked the people present to appoint a man that they considered would be fair to both sides.

The debate with Mr. Duncan was in a large measure a repetition of the debate with Mr. McMillan. I gave much the same proof, and, like Mr. McMillan, Mr. Duncan kept clear of my ground and quoted passages about faith. I pressed the difference between faith and faith alone. By faith Noah built an Ark, but not by faith alone. By faith Abraham went to Canaan, but not by faith alone. By faith he offered up Isaac, but not by faith alone. By faith the walls of Jericho fell, but not by faith alone. I followed Mr. Duncan to all the passages he quoted, showing that I believed them and that they were no trouble to me. And in almost every speech I turned upon him, asking him to explain to the people how he could get over the passages which I had advanced in proof of my position; or how he could harmonize these passages with his faith-alone theory.

It was not hard work holding my ground against Mr. Duncan. I preached there many a time after that, but I was allowed to do so in peace. One man thanked me very heartily for what I had done. He said, "You seem to have taken the measure of these two men. They were getting far too conceited, but I think that they will allow the next stranger to pass." I had not been two months an evangelist, and this was my second public debate. That did not look as if I was going to have a quiet time of it. Some think that it is a sin to debate. There is something wrong with the man who loves it for its own sake. But it it be a sin to contend for the truth of God, the New Testament is not a good book.

When I became an evangelist, we had seven children alive and there had been two deaths. None of the seven were working, but the eldest girl was then a considerable help to her mother, and that was much needed, for Mrs. Anderson was not strong. Considering the family and the state of Mrs. Anderson's health, I could not have accepted evangelistic work where I could not have had a run home once a week. I was generally at home on Saturday evening. I could walk to most of the churches in the district on Sunday morning - a ten-mile walk was not a great thing for me then.

My getting home at the week-end was also a good thing for myself in another way. Bro. John Brown, now of Glasgow, was then at Crofthead (his native village). He was a help to me. I am perhaps safe in saying that we helped each other. We used, as a rule, to mark off a task for mutual study, and met to talk over it on the Saturday evening. It is questionable if I would have got to know the little I did about Greek but for John Brown's company and help. My knowledge in that line was not great, to be sure, but it was often useful. Apart from its usefulness to me in my own study, it was often useful in another way. I have met a good many men who have tried to hide themselves in Greek when our English translation would not cover them. I had often sufficient knowledge to deprive them of that shelter.

Up to this point in my life it has not been hard to make selections of some kind from it. Now that I am fairly entered upon my evangelistic life I have a much harder task in hand. I was often at two or more churches each week with a number of meetings each week. I shall still keep to extracts from my life, but I shall not trouble myself much to always keep them in chronological order. It may be best sometimes to say all at once what I am going to say about a Church in the district though years may lie between the first and last incidents mentioned.

Early in my evangelistic life I spent a good deal of time at Slamannan. Though not staying there the whole week, I was generally there every week. It was a good place for outside meetings in the summer time. Though there was no big town you could be at a different mining village every night for a week and all these within easy reach of Slamannan. About the time I began to go there, there was considerable religious interest round Slamannan, and the church grew rapidly. How much of that was due to my influence I cannot say. The Church was active, and I was seldom the only speaker at an outside meeting. I have never measured my usefulness by the numbers added to a Church while I was there. In almost every case where a person is turned from sin to the service of God there are quite a number of causes leading up to that result. And the one who is the means of getting the person to decide for Christ has often far less to do with that conversion than some others. If I do my best as in the sight of God for the spread and defence of the Gospel, I am sure of the Master's "Well done," if I should lead no one to decision. Of course it is more pleasant to reap than to sow, but it is faithful work that is sure of the final reward. I have helped the Church in Slamannan in many a sowing and many a reaping time since then, but I hardly feel inclined to linger over ordinary earnest Gospel work. How many hours I have spent, hand over head, in house-to-house visitation and private instruction in and about Slamannan since I became an evangelist, I cannot tell, and am not sure but my private instruction has been greater than my public effort. Wherever I went the brethren could make free with me, and in whatever way I could help them knew that I was willing to do it. If they had trouble about the meaning of a passage, they approached me quite freely to see if I could help them. If one was anxious and they thought I could help him, they introduced me to him. Or if any one was opposed, but willing for conversation, they in the same way took me to him.

Let me give an example or two. Many years ago in the village of Drumclair (the village where the Slamannan Church was formed, in the year 1859, through the instrumentality of Charles Abercrombie, who was schoolmaster there at that time), I was going to address an outside meeting, and was there so early that I might have some conversation with friends before the meeting. As I went forward one of our members came to me and said, "There is a man come to stay here, he calls himself a Latter-day Saint. I have had some talk with him, but I do not understand him, and do not know how to talk to him. I asked him and he is willing that you should call upon him. But I want to go with you to hear what is said." So he took me to the house and introduced me. The good man of the house said, "I suppose you do not believe in my religion?" "You are right," I said, "I do not." "What part of it do you doubt?" "I doubt the whole thing," I replied. "You cannot do that," he said, "for there is a great part of it in the Bible." "Yes," I replied, "but we had the Bible before Joseph Smith was born, and what we have in the Bible we do not require to thank Joseph Smith for. It is the Latter-day Saint religion that I doubt, and I doubt it altogether. I doubt that Joseph Smith was a prophet, I doubt that he saw that Angel, I doubt that there were any gold plates, I doubt that Joseph got any revelation, or that he even worked a miracle, I doubt that you have any apostles or prophets, or that any of you ever worked a miracle. You lay hands on people's heads to give gifts, but I doubt if any person's head was ever the better of your hands. I doubt the whole thing. But I am always open to conviction, and if you or any of your friends will work the miracle or in any way give me positive proof of your high pretensions, I shall change my mind."

When we pressed him for positive proof of their pretensions he had not much to say, and after a short conversation we left. After we came out, the friend who took me there said, "I understand the thing better now; I did not know where to begin."

Take another example. The Christadelphians made some stir at Slamannan at one time. Our people there knew very little about them. One of our members and a Christadelphian got into conversation about the constitution of man. The Christadelphians deny that you have a soul as the word "soul" is generally understood. With them the body and its attributes make up the whole man. When you die the body is the only individual thing of you which remains in existence. It is not a question of the soul going to sleep when you die, it is a question of you not having a soul anywhere, asleep or awake. Our friend who was talking with the Christadelphian did not know how to meet his arguments. And the Christadelphian said to him, "Now you need not think that it is because you do not understand the subject that you cannot confute my arguments. None of your men could do any better than you have done. Mr. Anderson knows no more about this subject than you do." "I shall find out if that be true," our friend said, "If you will allow me, the next time that Mr. Anderson comes to Slamannan, I shall bring him down to your house." That was agreed to, and on my next visit I was not an hour in the village till I was in the house of the Christadelphian. He opened the conversation by asking, "Do you believe that a man is two men?" I replied, "I believe that man is a double being, and sometimes one part of him is called the man, and sometimes the other part of him is called the man, and sometimes both together are called the man." "The Scriptures do not prove that," he said. "We shall see," I replied. "Turn with me to Luke 16:19-31, the story of the rich man and Lazarus." "That is a parable," he said. "If it be a parable," I said, "I confess that I do not know what it is a parable about. If it is not a story telling what may happen to two men in Hades and out of it, I do not know what it means. But it makes no matter to what you and I are talking about just now, whether it is a parable or not. It is the use of the word 'man' in that story that I am going to call your attention to. Now words have their meaning, even in the story of a parable. Sower means sower, and seed means seed, in the story of the parable of the sower, just the same as anywhere else. Now look at the word 'man' in the story of the rich man and Lazarus. The rich man fared sumptuously every day. Man here, you must admit, means the whole being. 'The rich man died, and was buried.' What does 'man' mean here where they are said to bury him? We bury nothing but the body, and 'man' here means body, and nothing but body. But the next verse says that 'In Hades he lifted up his eyes being in torments.' What does 'man' mean here? What was in torments? The dead body in the grave? No, indeed, that story will not suit. Here 'man' means the soul, and nothing but the soul." He tried to get away from this, but I held him to it, claiming that I had proved what I said, that the word "man" might mean the whole being, or the body only, or the soul only; and we must keep our eyes open to see which of these three meanings it has in any particular passage. I had some further conversation with my friend after we left the house of the Christadelphian, and he was soon able to hold his own on that subject.

I feel inclined to give another sample of my work in private conversation at Slamannan, and though I might write a large book about that kind of work in connection with this Church, this instance will have to do. An old miner, who was done for working, lived in the village of Drumclair. I spoke to him sometimes in passing, and I saw him often at outside meetings there, but I had not an intimate acquaintance with him. At that time when I went to Slamannan I lodged with a Mrs. Geo. Kerr who lived in Drumclair. When I arrived one day she informed me that old John Wotherspoon was very ill, she was afraid that he would not get better. And added, "I have also a fear that he is not thinking seriously about it." She also let me know that a certain religious man had called and tried to get John to talk about religion, but John just put him off. For example, she said that man asked him, "John, have you any hope for the future?" John said, "Well, not very much; you see when I used to cough I got something up, but now I cannot get anything up, and if that continues I have not much hope for the future." Sister Kerr said when she told me, "John can do a thing like that fine." I said that it was a pity that he was not taking it more to heart than that. When I heard of the reception that man had got, I did not think of calling. But when I went back next week Mrs. Kerr informed me that old John had sent for me, saying that he wished to see me. So I called as soon as I could. I found him very weak, but with all his wits about him. Though speaking low he spoke clearly. I had not said much to him, when he asked very pointedly, "Mr.Anderson, what is your honest opinion about a case like mine?" "Well, John," I said, "I have not a very hopeful opinion about a case like yours. You have put off this great question till the last, and now you are likely thinking about it because you must, and the chances are that if God restored you to a fair measure of health you would just live your old life again." He said, "It is, of course, possible that if I were raised up, I would live my old life again, but it is also possible that I am honest and in earnest about this matter, and I wish you to talk to me on the ground that I am honest and in earnest, and if you cannot do that, this conversation must stop." The old man seemed to be very much in earnest, and I liked the pointed way in which he spoke. It gave me a better chance of knowing just where he was, and I had a desire to know that in the first place. So I proceded and said, "You know, John, that you have lived a very wicked life, you have lived in neglect of religion so far as I know." "I know," he said, "that I have not lived a good life, but you seem to be comparing me with others, and I do not think that I any worse than some in the village who get a better name than I do." "I hope that you are not trying to whitewash yourself, John." "I am not," he said, "but if I think you are making me worse than I am I have a right to speak. I wish to be made neither better nor worse than I am." "But you say that you do not consider yourself any worse than some who get a better name. Would you explain what you mean?" "Yes," he replied, "you have often preached outside at the end of this row, and I have often heard you, and I am sure that what you preach is in the Bible, that is why I have sent for you rather than any one else. After you stopped preaching and went away, we often talked among ourselves. Some people who profess to be religious and go to church, sometimes made light of or sneered at what you had said after you were gone. Now, Mr. Anderson, I never was wicked enough to do that at my worst. I never dared to make light of what the Bible taught. If God puts any stress upon His own word, and if these people get to heaven, I think that I have quite a good chance." I had now some idea where John was standing, and set about talking to him. I said, "There is not much in the Bible about cases like yours. You would think to read some religious books and tracts that the chief aim of the Gospel is to convert people upon their death-bed. That is not so. Christianity is designed to make the world better, turning men and women to serve God while they have health and strength to do so. Still there can be no question about God's great mercy. Had God not been a loving God, He would never have sent Christ to die for us. And if Christ had not loved us, He would not have died for us. Christ showed His love to sinners by taking a thief to Paradise with Him, who was nearer his end than you seem to be before he repented, John. You are not able to accept the Gospel in the ordinary appointed way, but God who made the laws has the power to make exceptions where He sees fit, but that is His place, not mine. It is mine to preach the rule, His to make the exception. But I have little doubt that He will do so in exceptional circumstances. It is hard for me to think that God will demand obedience where obedience is impossible. Where there is no ability I cannot think of God enforcing responsibility. But should God enable you, John, He will expect your obedience. This is my opinion, a very strong opinion, to be sure, but still just my opinion."

John never rallied. He lived for some weeks, but he did not get about again. As long as he could talk, the conversations I had with him were very interesting. Near the end, when he was past speaking, and I was not sure whether he was conscious, when I sat by his bedside and began to read the Scriptures, his thin, wasted hand would move up and pull down his nightcap and he lay with his head uncovered while I read and engaged in prayer. Should I safely reach the better land I shall not be surprised if I meet John Wotherspoon there.