"August 10, 1826.

"I was glad to hear that you had had some little respite, so as to be able to wait upon God in the assembly of his people. How amiable are his tabernacles! What must heaven be, where the Sabbath is eternal, and the temple is the Lord himself! —‘Yet a little while,’ (in your case a very little while at the longest), ‘and he that shall come, will come, and will not tarry.’

"I have been reading Samuel Rutherford’s letters of late, and have been much delighted with them. What advances he had made in the way of holiness! I think, in the present day, Christians are apt to be content with too little. There might be more of that knowledge of God and of his Son, which is eternal life, — even in this world, if we would but seek for it more earnestly. It is not enough to enter the strait gate, we must also walk in the narrow way. Sanctification is part of our salvation. And hence it is, that our most gracious Father sees meet to visit his children (as you can testify) with manifold afflictions and temptations, that the trial of their faith being much more precious than that of perishable gold, might be found unto praise, and honour, and glory, at the appearance of Jesus Christ. I doubt not, you can testify that the furnace of affliction is a refining surface.

"Sometimes when I enjoy a nearer approach to God, I can, indeed, feel that the loss of Christian fellowship is more than made up; but, in seasons of coldness and indifference, there is none to stir me up, and nothing that can give comfort. But it is well that it is so. It is well to be compelled to have continual recourse to a throne of grace. How sinful for a Christian ever to think of despondency, with such glorious hopes, and such precious promises to encourage him. But sin will damp the most glorious hopes, and unbelief will render unavailing the most precious promises. Perfect happiness can be attained only by the attainment of perfect holiness: while sin wars in the members, there must be a want of enjoyment. I feel that it is sin which separates between my soul and God. I am sometimes discouraged to think that I have now seemed to myself a believer for a considerable time, and yet I look in vain for a progress in holiness and likeness to God. If I have advanced at all, it has been in the discovery of my own utter worthlessness. I do feel more than ever, that I am poor, and miserable, and wretched, and blind, and naked. O that the Lord would discover to me more abundantly the riches of his grace, and let me feel more the presence of that Comforter, who is assuredly with me, if I have not received the grace of God in vain.

"I have few opportunities of usefulness here; and this is sometimes a cause of sinful discouragement. I attempted a meeting, which failed, owing to the hurry of the harvest! I have visited most of the cottages near, and distributed tracts, in which employment my little pupil is very willing to assist me. I have discovered one house of mourning, a family that has been much afflicted; there is a willingness to listen to divine things. I went with a person last Sabbath, who preached on an outside stair, in one of the lanes of Glasgow. I confess that it was not without trembling, and some degree of reluctance, that I consented to conclude the service by prayer. The people who gathered around us, I am convinced, cannot be reached in any other way. O! to be willing to be accounted the off-scouring of all things for Christ’s sake. I have seen Mr. Burnet, and have promised to take Ireland into consideration, in making up my mind as to the course of life by which I can most glorify God. I still feel the claims of the heathen to be the strongest, although some very highly respected friends here, think I might be more useful at home. I trust my only wish is, to know the will of God."

The following extracts are from various letters, written to his friend, William Scott Moncrieff in the months of July and August.

"From what you say of your friend, I suppose he has made an engagement with Mr. G—. I trust it will turn out for the mutual benefit of himself and his pupils; indeed, why should I say, I trust? (which is always an expression of some degree of distrust;) we know that all things work together for the good of them that love God. I rejoice to hear of your intended return to St. Andrew’s; you must stir up the embers of the flame that has been kindled. There is much to be done, my dear friend, everywhere; and I think every Christian, however obscure, must feel in some degree with the apostle, that there is a woe pronounced against him, if he publish not the joyful intelligence with which heaven has favoured him. It is well that death should sometimes deprive us of a familiar acquaintance, or a dear relative; for the death of thousands whom we have never seen, or at least never known, has been scarcely sufficient to prove to us, that we may die; and all the warnings we receive fail of practically convincing us that we must. How difficult to conceive the true ratio of the finite to the infinite, of this brief life to that never-ending existence into which it ushers us. And, if difficult to conceive, O, how difficult practically to feel it! There is something delightfully pleasing in the ‘little while’ of the New Testament, if we are waiting for our Lord; but, if careless and indifferent, or afraid of his coming, how alarming the idea, that ‘the Lord is at hand!’ Let us gird up the loins of our mind. Let us devote all our time to the service of our Master; ‘now is our salvation nearer, than when we believed.’ Our friends are parting from us on every side, and we are scattered over the wide world. It is all well; ‘this is not your rest.’ Let our hopes rest on nothing short of heaven. It is true, that the communion of the saints on earth resembles the intercourse of just men made perfect; but O, what a resemblance! How unlike these grovelling souls to the spirits around the throne! And these corruptible bodies, how vile compared with those immortal forms, which shall be fashioned like the glorious body of the omnipotent Sovereign of the universe! And even our communion with God here, how distant, how much interrupted by sin, or obscured by unbelief! How few, and far between the visits of our Saviour’s love, when we think of that place where they ‘cease not day and night to praise him;’ and where they have no need of a temple, for ‘the Lord God and the Lamb are the temple thereof.’ Let us hold fast our confidence, and run with patience, looking unto Jesus; and, ere a few more years have rolled over us, we shall join that ‘multitude which no man can number.’

"You could not have sent me anything more appropriate than Stewart’s Discourses on the Advent. You know me too well to need to be told how I felt when separated from you all, and without a single individual to whom I could speak with freedom on the subjects nearest my heart. Mr. Stewart’s book I have found a delightful companion. If I can guess at his peculiar views of the Redeemer’s advent, through the veil of modesty which almost conceals them, I am scarcely prepared entirely to agree with him. I have been so accustomed to dwell with pleasure on those brighter times to which prophecy seems to point, that the bare possibility that the Lord may come to-day, or to-morrow, seems to blast all these delightful hopes; ‘a multitude, which no man can number, must first be gathered out of every tribe, and kindred.’ Still, as Mr. Stewart observes, this may be very soon accomplished. Oh, that we may be looking for, and hastening on, the coming of the day of God!

"I have a great dislike to writing letters, but nothing gives me greater pleasure than to receive them. I guess that this is pretty nearly the case with some of my friends, and therefore a consideration of the golden rule should lead me to like the task of letter-writing better. I am most particularly anxious to hear from my friends, since I came to this solitary place; and a friendly letter, always pleasing, will now be doubly sweet. The words, and the looks of friendship I cannot now enjoy. Its written communications are all that are left to me. How unthankful we are ever apt to be! What a privilege is it that we can convey our thoughts to an absent friend! Without the noble invention of writing, a few miles would separate us more effectually from our friends, than half the circumference of the globe can, possessed as we are of this wonderful medium of intercourse. But, after all, epistolary correspondence is but a poor substitute for personal intercourse. We have symbols to express our thoughts, but we have no written characters that can express that peculiar vividness of impression, or tenderness of feeling which is conveyed by the eye, the features, and the very tone voice of a present friend. The words of a letter are in some respects dead, like the characters that represent them, while the words of the friend with whom we converse, and even the ideas, which these words express, seem to borrow life and loveliness from the lips and countenance that give them utterance. 1 have been writing several other letters to-day; and I believe that, in all of them, I have been mourning over the loss of friends, and lingering on the recollections of other days. And yet I feel that it is wrong to do so. This is a world of change; and, if our affections are set on any, even the worthiest of the objects that flit before us, our happiness will be but short-lived. If we be risen with Christ, let us set our affections on things above. If we would faithfully serve our Master, we must not look for a life of ease here, or even of enjoyment; we must ‘endure hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ.’ I do little else than study, and walk with my pupil, who is a very interesting boy. I have only been to ride once; I went to call with Colonel M at Lord Douglas’s, but my horse ran off with me three several times; I was very thankful to have escaped safe, and have not thought it prudent to risk my life in such circumstances since. Colonel M promises to get a pony, which I can ride, soon. Let it be our great object in our letters to provoke each other to love and to good works; for all is trifling, that does not bear directly or indirectly on eternity."

"I relish my solitude much better than I did. I am utterly confounded to think of the unnumbered mercies the Lord has heaped upon me, and on the discontented ungrateful feelings, I have often indulged. I have had a long walk this evening, visiting from cottage to cottage, with the view of collecting a few young people to form a weekly meeting. Great backwardness is manifested; and I have but faint hopes of its succeeding. I regret that I had so little Christian intercourse with you, and my other friends, in Edinburgh. I find that the bustle of travelling, and the excitement of new scenes and new circumstances, have a strong tendency to destroy spirituality of mind."

A letter from his friend C., appears to have contained some intimations of a very afflicting and painful nature, respecting the workings of his mind. It produced the long letter, which follows:

"MY EVER DEAR C. --Your last letter was, indeed, a most overwhelming letter, and did I really know any remedy for your mental distress, it were indeed cruel to have delayed so long to administer it. But I have been perplexed and confounded. I have resolved to write and yet tremble to take up my pen. I have delayed thus long, to meditate and to pray. When the spirit of my friend was wounded, — so severely wounded, I feared to take the knife into my own unskilful hand; and it seemed to me wisest to apply to the great Physician of the soul. The more I have thought of your case, the more I feel that it is beyond the power of human relief. I have done all I can. I have entreated Him, who alone can bind up the broken spirit, to send relief. He knows, from dread experience, the depths of temptation; he has experienced the horrors of an hour, when God seemed to have forsaken him, and the power of darkness appeared to rage triumphant. I write in the full hope, that ere now, your darkness has been dispelled by light from above; for it is light from Heaven alone, which can dispel such darkness. You see, I have taken a large sheet of paper at your request; but it is only because of that request: for really, I can pretend to give no consolation. I can only direct you to a higher source; but I can do so with the fullest confidence, that there you will assuredly find it.

"The metaphysics of natural religion I have studied but little; but if I can judge from that little, it seems to me, that the pretended demonstrations of the immortality of the soul, and the moral attributes of God, are little better than proofs how profoundly and ingeniously man can trifle. Much solid argument may be expended in the investigation, and many an ingenious method of argumentation discovered. We may have logically refuted, or appeared to refute, the objections of an opponent; but when we come to retrace all the steps, we find that no lasting impression is produced, — nothing satisfactory attained. Such discussions seem to me, to end in nothing more than the ingenious and well-calculated moves in a game of chess. We have had some intellectual amusement; and perhaps, too, we may have won the game, — but that is all. I have lately read the third volume of a novel called Tremaine, where the arguments of Clark, &c. seem to me well condensed, and convincingly stated; but the above was my impression on perusing them. By the way, the above is no ordinary novel; it is well worth a reading. The clear, the acute, the matchless Brown, seems, on this subject, a trifler. Indeed, the dark cloud of mystery which veils the spiritual world, gives us a liberty to imagine of it what we please, and a little ingenuity is all that is necessary to seem to prove, what we imagine, in a region wholly unknown. The more we think, the more we are persuaded of the reality of our own fancies, as when we gaze on the shapeless masses of coal in a fire, or on the clouds of a confused sky, our imagination can picture forth the outlines of animals, or castles, or forests, or any thing, which seem to grow more and more distinct the longer we gaze. But where have I wandered to? I might have told you in one little sentence, that I have felt these metaphysical reasonings to be as unsatisfactory as you do, who have dived deeper into their profundities. Let me say, however, before leaving this tantalizing subject, that I do think the existence, (and if the existence, of course the natural attributes of God), abundantly proved by the objects around us. For this, Dr. Brown says, and I think truly, that we have not to search far amid the mysteries of nature, to find proofs; far less to tread the labyrinths of a priori argumentation. He who sees not a Deity in the marks and designs displayed in his own body, or in many of the most familiar objects around him, will not be convinced by demonstration itself.

"To leave this then, — How delightful the facts of the gospel and the well-accredited testimony of an eye-witness from the world of spirits! But I know the dreadful subject, which is the cause (shall I say, which was the cause) of your doubts and your distress. Millions created for a moment’s giddy pleasure, — and then an eternity of unmingled wretchedness. Ah, my friend, the argument has struck my mind too with overwhelming force; and its stroke has cut the deeper, edged, as it has been in my case, (I believe in yours too), with the poignant reflection, that some whom I hold dearest ‘according to the flesh,’ seem, at present, to be walking on to the gulf of eternal perdition. But why should I introduce this here? You can sympathize with me. Oh, if there is ever a time that this proud heart can think with real delight of its own insignificance and ignorance, — it is, when oppressed by this awfully mysterious subject. When my mind has been darkened by presumptuous thoughts regarding the justice and mercy of the Eternal, the feeble ray of a single twinkling star has seemed like a ray of hope; and the conception of myriads of such worlds, or clusters of worlds, if it has not dispelled the darkness of the soul, has at least given the certain expectation, that soon it WILL be dispelled. What are we, that we should fathom the counsels of the eternal and omnipotent Jehovah? ‘Who art thou, O man, that repliest against God?’ Has not God revealed to us enough, to warrant this trial of our faith, especially when the express assurance is given, that a time is coming, when we shall ‘know as we are known?’

"After writing this long letter, I am almost ashamed of it. I have written, as if I were combating the arguments of an infidel, instead of attempting to console a Christian brother, whom the adversary has been permitted to attack. It would, indeed, be cruel to heal up a cankering wound, ere it had been probed to the very bottom; but I think I am not guilty of this, when I say, that even in that most dismal letter, there are the proofs of a regenerated soul. Peter was given up to the temptations of Satan, that he might be shown his own weakness. Some of the most eminent servants of God have been left to wander even into the dreary regions of atheism for a while, as if to show their own depravity, when unassisted by divine grace. O do not talk of the unwilling rejection of a God! All atheists are wilful atheists. This, I must believe, while I believe the Bible. God has had some end in view, my dear friend, in giving you up to these dreadful thoughts. I trust he will bring good out of seeming evil, and that this severe trial will lead you to lie more humbly at the foot of the cross, and to put less confidence than ever in the speculations of a bewildering philosophy. Excuse — no, I will not say excuse, I have spoken with the freedom of Christian love. I have not half answered your letter, and yet my paper is quite full.

"Remember me to our dear Nesbit, if he is still with you. The same post that brought your last, gave me the delightful news of another added to our little band of Christian missionaries, our much respected Rentoul. I have had a letter to-day from John Adam, making the very solemn proposal of joining him, in a mission to Madras, to leave this country in two years. Pray for my direction. We return to Dysart in the middle of next month, to be there for some time. I am glad of this, for here I am alone as to Christian intercourse. If I were actively employed in the service of the Lord, I think I could be happy in a desert; but here I do little or nothing. In study, I have done a little; I have read the first book of Samuel in Hebrew; three books of the Anabasis of Xenophon, which seems to throw some light on the style of the New Testament. In Theology, I have studied Paley’s Evidences pretty carefully, and Bishop Lowth’s Prelections. I have nearly finished Dr. Pye Smith’s Scripture Testimony to the Messiah (a most interesting work, which I beg earnestly to recommend to your perusal), and have just commenced Mosheim’s Church History. It is late, but I can scarcely give over writing."

His friend, Mr. Herbert Smith, having proposed to him to assist, and co-operate with him, in some plans of usefulness which he was pursuing, it produced the following letter in reply: —

"There is a sort of understanding, (although no positive agreement,) that I remain in Colonel Morland’s family for a year. I have now been nearly four months. Here I have only one pupil; and, of course, much time for study, which I think invaluable, as I know not how soon my opportunities of study may be past. I am particularly anxious to study closely the original Scriptures, in case of being employed in the very responsible work of translation. This reconciles me to a retirement from active exertion in the meantime, although even in that point, I hope to be able to do a little in the neighbouring cottages. I should feel it cowardly to fly from a station where God has placed me in his providence, perhaps from some gracious purpose, merely because it deprives me of some pleasures, for which the Lord himself knows well how to compensate. The soldier in the camp must not murmur, because he wants the comforts of domestic happiness. To all human appearance, indeed, there is little prospect of my doing anything here, to promote the knowledge of the truth, except through my pupil.

"On the subject of missions, every prayer strengthens my purpose. I am aware of the glare of romance, which fancy may throw round the idea of Christian expeditions to foreign lands; but I have tried to make due allowance for this, and have prayed that a youthful imagination might not lead me astray. The result is, I am every day more and more convinced, that my convictions in regard to this matter, are founded on Scripture. It is impossible, within the limits of a single sheet, to state the grounds of these convictions. I have written something on the subject, which I may, perhaps, have some opportunity of communicating to you in one shape or other. I have taken medical advice, and am told, that my constitution is more likely to stand in a warm climate, than if it were more robust; but no definite opinion can be given on the subject. The same post which brought yours, brought a letter from our friend John Adam, announcing his intention of going to Madras in two years, and asking me to accompany him. This is at present under consideration, and my decision may affect my more immediate plans. My present plans are, if the Lord will, to remain here till May or June next year, and then pay a farewell visit to my dear relations, before leaving them for ever in this life. It is a long time to look forward to next summer; but should you continue where you are, and think I could at all assist you, I may then, by the divine blessing on my studies, be able to give more efficient assistance for a month or two. In the meantime, I shall pray for your success, and perhaps you will have the kindness to let me hear soon how matters prosper."

Various friends interested in the religious welfare of Ireland, having requested him to take its claims on himself into consideration, he wrote the following letter to the Rev. John Burnet, of Cork, which I insert, not only as a part of his history, but to show the comprehensive views he could take of a subject, and how deeply he interested himself in everything which related to the kingdom of Christ: —

"1. What is the proportion of professed Protestants to Roman Catholics; and what the state of religious knowledge and practice among the former?

"2. What the proportion of evangelical ministers in the Church of Ireland?

"3. What the number and character of Protestant Dissenting ministers? I include Presbyterians of course.

"4. Are any Itinerancies undertaken by resident Irish ministers, and to what extent?

"5. What is the number and character of the Hibernian Society’s Agents? Are the readers also preachers, or are they all pious men? Of course, you understand me to mean, as far as our imperfect judgment can decide.

"6. What is the number of the Hibernian Society’s schools, and how taught? Are the schoolmasters understood to be pious men? Is religious instruction the professed object of these schools, or only common education?

"7. Does the Hibernian Society support any preachers; and if so, how many? Are the two you mentioned, their agents?

"8. Do the people manifest a willingness to hear? And can you allude, in general terms, to the success that has attended the efforts already made?

"These queries will, at least, show you, my dear sir, how ignorant, perhaps how criminally ignorant I am, of the state of the interesting country in which you labour. I could multiply more inquiries, of a similar description; but I think, under these, you may arrange any information your time may permit you to communicate. If anything else should be suggested by these, and your engagements permit, you will have the goodness to mention it. I should be glad to hear arguments too, if any particularly present themselves. I promise solemnly to consider the matter before the Lord, and to lay it before such of my companions, as I think, might be fitted for the work. In the meantime, I honestly acknowledge to you, that I feel the claims of other parts of the world to be stronger. I trust my only wish is to know the will of God in this matter. I feel my ignorance and incapacity to judge, but he leadeth the blind by a way they know not. When you see Captain Felix, have the kindness to give him my respects. Excuse this very hurried letter, as it gets late. The Lord bless you in your labours."

While this letter shows his willingness to submit to whatever might appear to be the will of God in regard to the field of labour; it still discovers how much his heart was set upon the great object to which his life had been devoted. In the letter which follows, to Mr. Adam, he gives full scope to his feelings, and refers again to the difficulty of obtaining the consent of his friends.

I confess that, all along, it has weighed deeply with me, and has produced a greater willingness to submit to the wish of my friends, in putting off; for a little, the final decision. But we must not be distrustful. All things are possible with God. How far ought these circumstances to weigh with me? I confess, they make me hesitate to give you a decided answer, which else I should do, with all my heart, in the affirmative."

The last letter which I received from him, was dated September. In this letter, he expresses himself with his accustomed affection, and unbosoms to me all his anxieties. Part of it, as well as of the preceding letter, I am obliged to withhold, from motives of delicacy, though it relates to his chief difficulty in accomplishing the acquiescence of his parents in his leaving this country.

"I will never cease to hope, I will never cease to pray. These are calamities, which my remaining in this country cannot alleviate, and yet they unnerve all my fortitude in the view of parting. Tell me how far you think this trying dispensation of Providenee ought to weigh with me. Mr. Adam writes me, that he thinks of offering himself to the London Society, with a view to a station at Madras. I know the directors do not give the young men their choice as to the station they are to occupy; and, indeed, it would be wrong to do so. I trust I am ready to go to any part of the world, where they think I may be most useful; but still I feel that the presence of a tried and beloved friend would be a mighty stimulus to exertion, and a great solace in trials. He talks of going in two years. Did the directors agree to such an arrangement, when should I be required to come before them? In my present situation, I have only one pupil, so that I have a few hours for study. I have applied pretty diligently to Hebrew this summer; and have studied carefully, Paley’s Evidences, Dr. Pye Smith’s Scripture Testimony, Bishop Lowth’s Prelections. I go on with Mosheim’s Church History, and Home’s Introduction. We are, at present, at the Earl of Rosslyn’s house here, where we shall continue three or four weeks. I cannot tell what my plans are at present. I am quite confused. I think I shall stay over the winter, at all events, in this family, unless the Lord, by the indications of his providence, seem to point out some other path. I find Lord Rosslyn exceedingly kind and attentive. I trust, the peep I have had at the pomp and luxury of the world, have tended to convince me more decidedly, that it is an unsatisfying portion. My pupil gives me great satisfaction. He has a very good mind. He is only ten years of age, and yet enters with delight into the study of astronomy; philology he is also very fond of. I have conscientiously taught him the doctrines of the gospel. His judgment approves them; and sometimes I have thought his heart was impressed. If the Lord choose him for himself, he may be eminently useful in the Church. His talents, and family connections, open the way to very high stations."

He refers in this letter to his reading, of his diligence in which, abundant evidence remains among his papers. Besides attention to the Hebrew and Greek Scriptures, and to his classical reading, he abridged during this summer and autumn, with great accuracy, Home’s Introduction, Paley’s Evidences, Dr. Smith’s Scripture Testimony to the Messiah, and Mosheim’s Ecclesiastical History. That he was not inattentive to other things, is very evident from his letters.

In consequence of this letter, I wrote to his father some time after, urging the necessity of no longer opposing a desire which seemed so evidently of God, and pointing out the consequences of persisting in resistance. I believe this, and other things, contributed to produce the desired effect; and John was satisfied, that when the time came, he would no longer meet with opposition from his parents. It is gratifying to me to be able to state this; as it must be a source of satisfaction to them now, to reflect that their resistance could have had little or no influence on the cause of his early removal. My answer to this letter, which was delayed in expectation of hearing from his father, he never received. It was written the day on which he died, and was received in Glasgow on the day of his funeral. A few more letters and papers will conduct us towards the closing scene.

"Your letter was, indeed, a refreshing one. Affliction is a blessing; and, I doubt not, that on looking back on the late trying dispensation of the Lord towards your family, you feel it good for you to have been afflicted. Your letter found me grovelling in the dust, wrapt in selfishness, and sunk in depression; brooding over my own vileness, and mourning the loss of privileges I had never deserved; yet, regardless of the inestimable blessings which still remained. Such a letter was quite the medicine for my distempered mind. I forgot myself in sympathizing with your affliction; and the deep impression which a near view of eternity had made upon you, was, I trust, in some degree communicated to myself. O how difficult to keep up a rational conviction of the relation between time and eternity! How does our practice give the lie to our profession!

"29th. I have been here a fortnight, and am likely to remain a fortnight longer, for which I am truly thankful. Here I am surrounded with Christian friends; and the value of such a privilege I feel more than ever, since I have had some experience of its loss. There is, indeed, an inexpressible heaviness in having no one like-minded. I have temptations here too, but I trust the Lord will uphold me. I am a good deal alone; but I must mingle a little with the society here; and to one accustomed to move in the humblest walks of life, the drawing-room of a peer is not the place to learn humility, or to be more deeply impressed with the realities of an unseen world. Yet, I trust, this peep at the luxury and pomp of the world may be sanctified to me. In what very trifling do the votaries of fashion spend a life, which must determine their condition in that eternal state, into which time soon will usher them! Surely, man at his best estate, is altogether vanity. I have just come from the sick bed of one of the servants, who has been ill since I was here last. He is in a very interesting state; and, I trust has found comfort in looking to Jesus. I am anxious to hear of your brother’s parish. I trust the Lord causes his work to prosper. I know you have been active in assisting him. Tell me the nature of your exertions. Herbert Smith was to begin, when I heard from him, meetings like ours in St. Andrew’s. Henry Craik and John Brown have commenced them in Exeter. Did you see Henry before he left? You know he succeeded Nesbit, who will be in Edinburgh soon. John Adam means to go to Madras, probably in two years. He proposes that I accompany him. I am in considerable perplexity how to determine. Pray for me, that I may not be left to do my own will. Perhaps you know that W. Alexander, and W. Scott Moncrieff return to St. Andrew’s this winter. What are your plans?

"I have been a good deal depressed at the thought of my uselessness. I have done little to promote the glory of God this summer; and in study, I have effected very little. My pupil gives me encouragement. I trust his mind is pretty thoroughly imbued with those precious truths, of which I found him very ignorant. At times he has seemed affected. The Lord deepen and preserve these impressions. Last Saturday night, I was much interested and affected by what he said in the middle of our usual exercise, he stopped, and said very earnestly, ‘Eternity!’ Mr. Urquhart, ‘eternity! I have had a thought of that which I never had before.’ Unwilling to interrupt his feelings, I paused, and fixing his eyes on the fire, he said, in a little, with a tone of deep earnestness: ‘Well, I never was impressed till now with the necessity of believing immediately on the Lord Jesus Christ.’ Such impressions may wear off; but I trust they will return. I am not without the hope, that the Lord may raise up this child to be eminently useful in his church. He is a very original thinker, and pursues science and literature with an ardor that is not common at so early an age. I am not sure whether to address to Edinburgh or Kirkliston. I enclose this to our mutual friend, W. Scott, who will know where to find you. Write soon, and be particular in telling your doings and your plans, to your ever affectionate," &c.

"It is the great evil in letter-writing, that we can scarcely enter on a subject, when we are compelled to leave it. Nothing worth notice has occurred since my father was here. I have seen a little more of the folly of the world, and have experienced more of the weakness and worthlessness of my own heart. I have written to John Adam, about Madras, but have not yet received an answer."

"When you have read the above confused description, read the twenty-eighth chapter of Job, and tell me if it does not throw some light on the sublime description there. If not, I have failed to represent to you what I have seen. Man can, indeed, do much; but, after all, his power is limited. He can put forth his hand upon the rocks, and overturn the mountains by the roots. He can cut out rivers among the rocks; he can bind the flood, from overflowing. His eye seeth every precious thing, and the thing that is hid, he bringeth forth to light. But where shall wisdom be found? God alone knoweth the way thereof; and O, let us thank him with our whole hearts, that what human skill could never have discovered, he has freely made known to us by the gospel. Man can ‘bore the solid earth;’ but the depth, saith of this wisdom, ‘It is not in me.’ Man can fathom the ocean and explore its hidden caverns; but the sea saith, ‘It is not with me.’ In what a pitiable condition is man, with all his boasted wisdom, without divine revelation. O how thankful then should we be, that this precious gift, the gift of heavenly wisdom, is freely offered to all! It is easily accessible to every individual. No careful and laborious search is to be made, ere we can discover it; no difficult task to be performed, ere we can deserve it. ‘Say not then in thine heart,’ &c. (Read the passage, Rom. x. 8; and the parallel verses, Deut. xxx. 11-15.)

"Let us embrace with eagerness and joy, the precious truths that God has revealed to us. Pardon and reconciliation, and spiritual renovation, are the gifts that are offered. They are not to be compared in value to any earthly thing. They have been purchased by the blood of Christ, and are offered to us for nothing. O let us not then despise or neglect these invaluable gifts, which the possession of a thousand worlds could not enable us to purchase!"

"I had a letter from Mr. Adam yesterday, who seems to think of Madras as the place of his destination. I suppose he had begun to study Sanscrit when he wrote to you. He goes on with it. I could have wished much to accompany John Adam, but many circumstances seem to demand a considerable delay on my part. May the Lord make me submissive. I know his ways are the best. Generally on looking back, we can see that every step we took was necessary for our welfare, although when we took these steps, all was darkness and perplexity; ‘The Lord leadeth the blind by a way that they know not.’ It is a privilege even to be blind, if we have such a Leader. Since we came here, the Earl of Rosslyn’s family have been all at home, and there has been a good deal of company. Lord Loughborough, Lord Rosslyn’s son, was married last Tuesday.

"I feel that the near approach of rank and fashion has a strong, though almost imperceptible influence, in super-inducing a spirit of worldliness. Every new scene that opens to me convinces me that the world in which we live is more dangerous than ever I imagined, and every new temptation shows me that my strength is utter weakness. How difficult to learn the lesson of our own utter worthlessness! Experience alone can teach it. O that we may be enabled to look more simply to Christ alone! In him we are complete. Through Christ strengthening us we can do all things. I thank you for your kind present, and for your still kinder advices. Pray for me, that the Lord would uphold me; for I feel that I walk on slippery places. Nesbit will be in Edinburgh soon. W. S. Moncrieff and W. Alexander, my old companions, are the only persons I know going to St. Andrew’s.

"I hope they will be strenuous in their exertions. We return soon to the neighbourhood of Glasgow, where I expect to spend the winter."

"Since I have been here, I have seen a good deal of what is called the world. Lord Rosslyn’s family has been at home, and there has been a good deal of company. There is a fascination about rank, and fashion, and gaiety, and splendor, which has an almost imperceptible influence even on the heart that is conscious of their utter vanity. The smile of the world is more dangerous than its frown; and the kindness and attention of those who are called great, have a strong tendency to lead away from the simplicity that is in Christ. This I have, in some degree, experienced.

"I do not know whether I ever wrote anything about my pupil. He is a boy of a very affectionate and amiable disposition: and if I am not mistaken, he has an intellect of no ordinary cast. But he has been quite spoiled, he has never been accustomed to obey anybody, and has never been punished for a fault. Of course, you can see, in such a cage, I have a good deal to try me, but yet I have encouragement too. He has been several times a good deal impressed with the doctrines of the gospel, and though these impressions may wear off again, at present they give encouragement to hope and pray, that the heart which has been influenced by them, may be, sooner or later, entirely subjugated to the Lord. I rejoice to hear of your exertion in your neighbourhood. Persevere, my dear friend. I mean to renew my efforts to have a meeting near Tennoch Side. Give my affectionate regards to John Brown. I am glad to know, that, practically, he has given up his peculiar tenets. I am not in a condition for writing on Mr. Grove’s pamphlet at present, as it is some time since I read it, and I have not a copy here with me. I feel in a very peculiar manner towards Mr. Grove, though I have never seen him. I would travel a good way to meet with him. Give him my respectful and affectionate compliments. I will not send any expression of affectionate regard for my dear Nesbit, for I indulge a hope of seeing him in Edinburgh. I like the general outline of the Hamiltonian System very much. I have adopted it so far in Hebrew, as to take all the assistance I can from our English translation, at the same time examining the grammatical structure of each word. Pray for me, my dear brother. I have need of your prayers, for I am in a very cold and lifeless state. Ever, my dearest Henry, yours most affectionately."

"You know I have been a wanderer since I wrote to you, and perhaps it may amuse you to give some account of myself! But I have such a memory. I had forgot that I had written to you from Dysart. In passing through Edinburgh I saw Scott and Tait, and Alexander, of whom, the last alone has returned to St. Andrew’s. I have heard that Rentoul intended going, but not from himself. Alas, poor St. Andrew’s! I am anxiously expecting a letter from Alexander. Craik left Edinburgh without giving any account of the Missionary Society’s book, which he had as secretary; and I had great difficulty in compelling Alexander to write about it. By the way, I have heard Duff is returned. I trust he will be staunch and zealous. I mean to write to him soon. Since I am in the way of giving news, I may mention, that I had a letter the other day from our old friend Hoby, accusing both yourself and me of not writing. He has ‘pitched his tent,’ as he expresses it, at Weymouth, being disappointed in his attempt to find a settlement near the Metropolis. His letter breathes a strong missionary spirit. ‘It is impossible,’ he says, ‘to think of going now; but would to God I could find a more extended sphere of usefulness among the heathen, than I am likely to find here.’ This, in part, I do not quite understand, for it would appear, that there is abundance of work at home, for those who cannot go to heathen countries.

"I am back to my hermitage, and have been here for three weeks. All around is more dreary now than ever; and, in other respects, external circumstances are no better than they were, and yet I know nothing of that strange dejection which pressed so heavy on me before. I wish you would destroy anything I wrote to you then; as, if I wrote as I felt, I must have appeared to you little other than a fool or a madman. I cannot help thinking, on looking back, that I was afflicted with a lighter species of the most dreadful malady that can visit a rational being. I do in earnest thank the Lord that I now enjoy not only health of body, but that littled valued, but highly precious blessing, soundness of mind. I cannot say that the advice of your last letter did not damp me a little. But you are right, I must wait till the Lord direct me. If you must go without me, I think I can bear it. All my experience tells me that I want a tried friend to lean upon, (a sentiment by the way, which you strangely misinterpreted in a letter to Scott;) and such I hoped you might be to me. But I see my error, I must lean upon Christ. I am more convinced than ever that happiness depends little on what is without. O, for a closer walk with God! for this alone, in any circumstances, can give true enjoyment. I have seen a good deal of the gaiety of the world since I saw you.. It is all vanity. I have learned that lords and ladies are just men and women. It is probable that we return to Lord Rosslyn’s at Christmas, to remain some time, so you see I am quite a pilgrim. ‘We have no abiding city here.’ That reminds me of a delightful month at Homerton, and of many a change since."

"This sacred repose I am sure you have often felt, and have thought the trouble well worth the bearing, which yielded such peaceable fruits. Such seasons are the earnests of that rest which remaineth for the people of God. It is an acquiescence in the divine will that causes this holy calm within the breast. How sweet and sacred must that rest be, which remaineth for us! Then all the dispensations of God will have wrought together in producing perfect resignation to the will of our Heavenly Father. Surely this must be perfect peace. Let us welcome, then, all that fits us for such a state of holy enjoyment. All things work together for our good. You will excuse me for writing on a subject of which I may be supposed to know little. True, I have had little bodily affliction; but I have not lived eighteen years in such a world, without tasting the bitterness of sorrow. You know some trials that have pressed heavily upon me. You have been long severely afflicted, and if anything I can write can suggest any consolation, I shall esteem it a high honour to have been permitted to minister to one of the saints."

"My views with regard to missions are still much the same. The gospel is for mankind, for the world; and why should one little island contain nearly all the messengers of peace? The little success in some parts is no discouragement, nor does it even show that men had run where they were not sent. Remember the first attempts in Otaheite. Consider the continent of Asia. John Adam remains in London, preparing, I suppose, for India. I say nothing of Rentoul, as I hope you have met him at St. Andrew’s; if so, remember me very affectionately to him, also to Duff, and W. Alexander. Craik and Brown remain in Exeter. I have not yet heard of Nesbit’s arrival in Scotland. I am anxious to hear how matters go on in St. Andrew’s this winter."