On another occasion, I remember that Henry and I set off together to fulfil two engagements without having decided to which place each was to go. We talked the matter over as the train carried us up the Highland line, but at last we tossed for it. I went to Inverness and he, I think, to Nairn or Elgin. As matters turned out, this decision was very important; for, where he went, there was such a blessing that he felt called to devote himself more absolutely to the work; and he used to speak of this occasion as one of the turning points by which his subsequent work was determined.’ Others remember that Mr. Moody himself was in Elgin, and, to Drummond’s surprise, opened the door to him when he arrived there.
It was, in fact, because of what he heard, or saw, of this work in Elgin that Mr Moody sent Drummond to Sunderland — the first instance of his policy of setting Drummond to continue the work among young men at places which Mr Sankey and he had visited. Stewart either went with Drummond or joined him a few days later, but the work immediately developed to such an extent that he telegraphed for help: I sent Ewing, who up to that point had kept out of the movement, but was instantly caught by its spirit, and soon proved one of the most powerful workers. In subsequent years we used to chaff Ewing by telling with what fear and trembling I had sent him, and how aghast Henry was when he heard who was coming to be his coadjutor. Even at the time, in spite of the solemnity of the supernatural forces in the midst of which we felt ourselves, there was a great deal of high spirits in our intercourse. The deputation went for three days and stayed a fortnight, with still less hope of getting away, for the work grew past all belief and spread to the neighbouring towns. In answer to urgent invitations, the three young Scotsmen visited Newcastle, South Shields, Bishop Auckland, Hartlepool, Morpeth and Hexham. Sunderland appears to have been fairly roused by the mission. The work began, as elsewhere, among the middle classes and spread to the working men. All denominations took part in it. Members of the Society of Friends were among the hardest workers, but all the Nonconformist ministers gave their help, and the three young men found themselves at the head of a large and influential organisation which they had to superintend from day to day, besides conducting the services and the meetings with inquirers. It must have been a tremendous ordeal, both mental and moral. Ewing used to speak of it as the greatest month of his life. But there appears to have been no excitement, and the large daily gatherings for prayer were conducted with deep earnestness. The results were very manifest: the after-meetings were large, very many members of church-going families were moved to a real decision to follow Christ, and numbers of young men who had not been to any church for months and years professed themselves converted. The tiny Young Men’s Association rose to a membership of four hundred, and a year or two afterwards the work done among them was declared to be permanent and still spreading. In the end a thousand persons in Sunderland alone gave in their names as converts. Parents were so stirred, that arrangements were made to extend the public services to children; and in this delicate work— the propriety of which Drummond afterwards questioned, believing, with justice, that religion comes to a child most naturally through its home — some amount of real good was done, in spite of the artificial and premature ‘experiences’ that such a movement always forces.
In his weekly letters to his father and mother Drummond tells the following story: —
Sunderland, April 24, 1874. «. . . You see I am still here and do not know when we are to get away. Requests are pouring in on us from all quarters, and the work is just as deep as it could be. We have three meetings each night, one exclusively for young men. Generally, there are about a hundred inquirers in all every night; and as most of these come to the light before leaving, you may imagine the wonderful nature of the work going on around us. We got Ewing to help us yesterday, but my health is just as good as ever. We are kept at it from morning till night. Schools, infirmaries, poorhouses, etc., have all to be addressed, and the work has got in among several of the public institutions. Yesterday we had an “all day” meeting for inquirers. The young men’s meetings have been a marvellous success, and have done an amount of good which the countryside will feel the influence of for generations. They are going out in bands to work the neighbourhood; and as there is a dense colliery population, they may do a great deal of good. I am living in a very quiet family; and although you might think there is a deal of excitement going on, I seem to be spared it all, and live as quietly as if I were at Killin. . . . Next week we shall run into Newcastle occasionally to meetings there, but one of us will always be left here.’
Hartlepool, May 6th, 1874.
The people here have been very pressing for some of us to run down and hold a couple of meetings, and I made up my mind to comply while the other two went to Newcastle, where I join them tomorrow. The Sunderland work would take a week even to sketch, and it seems to have reached all classes and all ages. Among the schools, it seems to have broken out with force, and we could spend another month among them with great profit. On Sunday I had an enormous children’s meeting, and a hundred and fifty remained to an after-meeting. In the evening we had the Victoria Hall crammed (with adults), and a very large number entered the inquiry room at the close. On Monday evening we had a farewell meeting with the young converts. There was a large church full, and it was one of the happiest meetings I was ever at. The general impression in Sunderland is that the work is just beginning; and although we have left the place, I expect we shall have to go back again. To give you an idea of the work in Sunderland, I may say that upwards of three hundred names were given in at the young men’s meeting alone of young men who had professed to have been converted during the three weeks of the meetings. One minister of a small chapel stated after the first fortnight that forty had been converted already out of his little flock. To me the whole matter seems an unreal dream. It is impossible to realise it. I suppose it was never meant we should. Hartlepool is a little chilly after Sunderland. . . . The whole countryside is ripe here, and I do not really know when this English tour of ours is to end.’
Sunderland, May 12 th, 1874.
‘I am leading a very wandering life. . . . Our hands are very full here. We have applications from all quarters to go to work. Our present duty, however, is to stay in Sunderland. We have given it a rest this week, and are working Newcastle and Bishop Auckland, but next week we are to have a great week of meetings here for all classes, and a special one each night for young men only, and probably another one for children. The work among children has been most wonderful, and we have visited Sabbath and Day Schools... On Monday we had another converts’ meeting — a large church full. The Sunday evening meeting has become quite an institution in the town and is having an extraordinary influence on all classes. There are always three thousand or four thousand present, and we have always a large prayer meeting.’
Hexham, June 9, 1874.
‘I got here on Saturday evening after a good week at Sunderland. We worked two meetings each night, but the one was six miles off so that we only had one each to attend to. The results were most satisfactory. I think there would be about a hundred in each place —I cannot say exactly converted — but under very deep impression. One night I spent at Morpeth and had a very nice meeting. On Sunday I had no less than three meetings here, all very interesting. They were just about to close the meetings, which have been going on for some weeks. They thought the thing was getting played out, but they seem to have taken a fresh start, and the meetings this week have been the biggest they have ever had. Half the audience last night were church people. ... If the work had been bad, I should have been with you tomorrow, but I see now it will not do to break off. You know, every night counts. As to my health, I think I am stronger than ever. There could not be a more healthy place than this, and I take the whole day in the woods and hills. I am engaged all week at Shields, but on Saturday I could get free for a few days, and we might have a ramble together.’
South Shields, June 26th, 1874.
‘The work here has been steady. Results not like Sunderland exactly, but I think we ought to be very well satisfied. I am pressed to stay, and will probably be either here or in the neighbourhood.’
From, "The Life of Henry Drummond," by George Adam Smith, pages 65-70