The investigations of
philology and grammar, though important in themselves, and absolutely
necessary as the basis of all correct knowledge, are dry, and often
tiresome. The memory is loaded with words and forms of expression, which
tend no doubt, to exercise and strengthen it; but do not tend much to the
moral benefit of the mind. When from these the scholar passes on to the
more elegant studies of the Greek and Roman classics, or even to the
polite literature of our own country, how little does he find at all
calculated to promote his spiritual welfare! This is not saying enough:
how much does he meet with, the tendency of which is positively injurious!
The fascinations thrown around vice, the halo of glory with which sin
itself is frequently invested, cannot be viewed often, and with great
intensity, without damage. The individual who gives his days and nights to
the poets and orators of Greece and Rome, must be more than man if he
escapes without hurt to his spiritual feelings and principles.
The influence of the exact
sciences, and of experimental philosophy, though of a different nature, is
still hazardous to a mind which has not arrived at maturity. The absolute
certainty of mathematical demonstration, and the sure results of algebraic
formula, produce a habit which has proved in many instances very
unfavourable to the due appreciation of moral evidence. And the processes
of chemistry, and the experiments of physical science, have not been
always productive of an increased veneration for the great Spirit who
presides over, and pervades all the operations of the universe.
I wish to speak of results,
rather than to assign reasons for those results. Whether the evils and
dangers referred to are to be ascribed to the weakness and depravity of
our nature, or to the imperfections of the systems of education, which are
generally adopted, or to both together, does not alter the state of the
fact, that our youth cannot receive what is considered a finished
education, without sustaining a very formidable trial. How few
comparatively can pass through a College, or even an academy, to the work
of the ministry, without experiencing a diminution or loss of their
spiritual vigour!
To frame a system of
education, which would avoid the greater number, or most of the evils,
would be a service of incalculable value to the world. But I doubt whether
human wisdom, under existing circumstances, is competent to the task. It
is no difficult matter to furnish expurgated editions of the classics, and
to produce family Gibbons, and family Shakspeares; and those attempts at
purifying the foul stream of classical instruction are not to be despised.
But while so large a portion of time and thought must be expended in these
pursuits, and while a capacity for relishing the beauties, whether of the
ancient or the modern classics, is rated so high, I fear that the chief
source of the evil will still remain.
The principle on which most
systems of education are constructed, is the relation which certain
attainments bear to certain temporal advantages. The problem on which they
are all founded is, How may an individual, at the least expense, be best
fitted to conduct a family, to teach a congregation, to manage a
counting-house, or to guide the state? I do not say these are not
important questions; they are important, and they are the only questions
which the world can ever ask and determine. But surely there are other
questions which Christians might be expected to consider. Do not the
relations which the pursuits and attainments of time bear to eternity,
demand their consideration? Ought what can have little tendency to promote
men’s interests beyond this world, what in many instances injures
those interests, to be the first subject of consideration? Is it quite
impossible to frame a system of education, in which all the lines may be
brought to unite, in forming the intellectual and moral powers of man, for
a state of immortal enjoyment? A system in which every branch shall be
deemed important, chiefly as it bears on his eternal condition! A system
in which what is showy and superficial, shall be rejected, or thrown into
the shade; and what is substantial and useful placed in the fore-ground? A
system in which taste shall be less an object than character, and
intellect be made subservient to morals? A system in short, which shall
have the principles of Christianity for its basis, the advancement of
Christianity for its object, and the rewards of Christianity for its end?
I do not conceive such a
system to belong only to a region in Utopia. It is perfectly conceivable;
but before it can be realized, we must be furnished not only with new
principles, but with new men to inculcate them, and with a different state
of society to secure their operation. Many as are the evils which we still
deplore, much progress has been made during the last thirty years; and
before a similar period shall have passed away, it is not too much to
expect that the strides of society towards a better state will be still
more gigantic.
As the present work may
fall into the hands of some who are engaged in conducting seminaries, I
hope I shall be forgiven this seeming digression. Considering how many of
our youth are seriously injured in the training, how many bitter regrets
are afterwards experienced, even by those who do not suffer permanent
injury; and how few escape altogether without damage, I can scarcely be
required to offer an apology for these remarks. Indeed, though the subject
of these memoirs retained his integrity, and passed through his studies
without blemish, I know from himself, and from his fellow-students, that
"he retained," (I use his own language) "a deep horror of St. Andrew’s."
He meant, I am sure, no reflection on the place, none on the Professors,
and none on his fellow-students. But he considered it marvellous that he
got through his academical course without ruin to his soul. In this
preservation he was led to admire the exceeding riches of divine grace;
but it must appear very extraordinary, that a Christian University should
expose its disciples to such hazards. The fact is, the profession is
Christian, but the entire process of education is anti-Christian.
Religion, instead of being the first, the last, and the main object, is
subordinate to every other object. The minds both of professors and
students, are absorbed in science and literature, as the chief objects of
pursuit; and religion, when attended to, is examined rather as one of the
sciences, than as the doctrine of God and the path of immortality. While
this system is pursued, it is not wonderful that the atmosphere of
Colleges should generally be unfavourable to the vitality of Christianity.
Our last chapter brought
the subject of these memoirs to the conclusion of the third year of his
University course, and the seventeenth of his age. To him it had been a
year of great interest, and great exertion. In it he had acquired a large
portion of celebrity among his associates and what was more, he had laid
the foundation of some of his most interesting plans of usefulness. We
shall now endeavour to trace his spiritual and intellectual progress to
the close of his short but useful life.
Returning home at the end
of the session, after visiting Edinburgh, laden, not with wealth, but
"with honours bravely won," he still appeared the same modest,
unpretending youth. His mind was fully occupied with the importance of the
Christian ministry, and especially with the necessities and claims of the
heathen world. I had the opportunity of seeing a good deal of him during
the month of June, which I spent at Perth, and had then many conversations
with him about his future plans. I saw the direction of his mind, and was
satisfied what would be the issue; but, from his extreme youth, being then
only seventeen, I urged upon him the necessity of taking more time to
consider the subject, especially as his father and mother were both
exceedingly averse to his going abroad. I advised him, as there were then
some difficulties in the way of his returning to St. Andrew’s, rather to
apply to be received into some one of the Dissenting academies at home;
knowing, that, if his mind still continued to be set upon the heathen
world, the opportunity of gratifying his wishes would not be lost. With
this advice he complied, and accordingly addressed a letter to the
Committee of the Hoxton Academy, requesting to be received into that
institution. His reasons for adopting this line of procedure are well
stated in the following letter to his friend Mr. C—:
"PERTH, June, 1825.
"A few days ago I sat down
to write you, and wrote about eight pages, which, I thought, with the
addition of a few sentences, at present, would make out a pretty
respectable epistle. A few days, however, often make a great change in our
feelings and our prospects; and I perceive, on looking over the pages I
have written, that they are quite unfit for sending at present. The last
time I sat down, I wrote, with the full expectation of soon enjoying again
the company of my dear friends at St. Andrew’s; and I write now under the
impression that my lot may soon be cast in a distant part of the island.
Mr. Adam perhaps, told you that Mr. Orme is here at preseut on a visit to
us. He is a man with whom I have been on the most intimate terms from my
very infancy, and one who has ever taken a deep interest, both in my
spiritual and temporal welfare. Since ever I have felt anything of the
power of religion, I have been accustomed to look to him as my father in
Christ, and have ever felt the most perfect confidence in making known to
him all my designs and feelings. Last winter I wrote to him expressing my
views respecting missions, and my thoughts of devoting myself to this
department of the Christian ministry. Since Mr. Orme’s arrival in Scotland
I have had much conversation with him on this subject, and have received a
good deal of information respecting matters in the metropolis. There are
some opportunities of instruction in oriental languages to be enjoyed at
present in London, which, if neglected now, may be lost for ever. Dr.
Morrison remains for a year only, to give directions about the
study of Chinese; and Mr. Townley remains, it is not certain how long, to
teach some of the more important of the Indian languages. Another session,
at one of the Scotch Universities, although it might be attended with
several very considerable advantages, does not seem to counterbalance the
opportunities I have hinted at. I can, in a letter, state the reasons
which actuate me in this matter only in a very general way. It is not
likely, should I go to London this summer, that I shall engage with the
Missionary Society immediately, but rather that I shall enter one of our
Dissenting academies, where I shall be able to carry on my general studies
at the same time that I have an opportunity of prosecuting the study of
the eastern languages. On the whole, I feel in considerable perplexity how
to act. I need not tell you that all my feelings are in favour of St.
Andrew’s, but, I honestly think, duty seems to point in another direction.
Mr. Adam seems to agree in thinking it my duty to go to London. I have
made this matter, for a considerable time, a subject of constant prayer;
and I propose setting apart a day for the solemn consideration of the
whole matter, and for the purpose of asking direction from on high. May I
entreat an interest in your prayers? These are the circumstances in which
we feel most the privilege of a free access to the Father of our spirits;
and these are the times when our belief in the revealed declarations of
his character, and of his will, come to be tried; and when, if that belief
be found real, the revelation of God’s character can give the greatest
consolation and joy."
With his application the
Committee were much pleased, and would have readily acceded to it; but he
was rather too young to be received into the house, which was besides, for
that period, already full. He was therefore requested to wait for a year,
at the expiration of which they would be glad to hear from him again. In
consequence of this failure he requested to be admitted into the Glasgow
Academy, under the tuition of my respected friends, the Rev. Greville
Ewing, and the Rev. Dr. Wardlaw. After some hesitation on the part of the
Committee of that Institution, on the ground of his having devoted himself
to foreign service, they agreed to receive him. But circumstances changed
a little, and it appeared desirable that he should return to St. Andrew’s
to complete his academical course.
How his mind was exercised
in regard to these things will, in part, appear from some of his letters:—
"PERTH, July 8, 1825.
"My VERY DEAR FRIEND — An
opportunity is afforded me, by Mr. Machray, of answering your interesting
letter, which I am glad to embrace. After you left us, I had a good
deal of conversation with my friends, on the subject of my destination;
and, having set apart a day for the solemn consideration of the matter,
and imploring divine direction, I came to the resolution of making
application to Hoxton Academy. The issue of that application determines me
to remain another year in Scotland. I received an answer from Mr. Wilson,
this week, informing me that the vacancies were all filled for the ensuing
session; but that, if I could profitably employ my time for a year, they
would have room next year, and better accommodation, as they expect to
enter on their new College. In connection with this matter, I have been
led to consider more attentively those passages of Scripture, which refer
to missionary exertions, and the result has been a deeper impression than
ever, of the duty of engaging in this work. It is very true, that much has
to be done at home; that there are many here, as my friend Craik writes,
who ‘can only be considered in the light of more criminal heathens.’ But
this is a wilful ignorance: they are not ‘perishing for lack of
knowledge.’ And this argument, if carried to its full extent, would stifle
missionary exertions to the very end of the world. What would have been
the consequence, had the apostles resolved not to leave Jerusalem, till
every one of their brethren, according to the flesh, was truly converted?
The Gentiles would not have received the glad tidings of salvation to the
present hour. This was not the commandment the apostles received, however;
and, accordingly, they acted in a very different manner. They were to
preach the gospel to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. The
nation of the Jews had a claim upon the first preachers of Christianity,
which our countrymen have not upon us. They were not only their ‘brethren
according to the flesh,’ but they were also God’s chosen nation; and, as
such, it was right that they should enjoy a pre-eminence over all others,
in first receiving the proclamation of pardon. But, how did their
brethren, the apostles, act even to this favoured nation? They made a full
declaration of salvation, through Christ; they made a free tender of the
mercy of Jehovah; but, by almost all, this mercy was slighted and
rejected. By thus sinning against greater light, these individuals became
more criminal even than the heathen. Did the apostles, therefore,
think that they should not go forth to the heathen, till all these
rejecters of the truth were convinced of the error of their ways? No; that
very rejection of the gospel, by their countrymen, was a signal for their
departure. ‘Seeing ye reject, &c., behold we turn to the Gentiles.’
Had the gospel been proclaimed, in like manner, to all other
nations, the apostles would have felt it their duty to have laboured
assiduously among their brethren at home. But while there remained a
single nation on the face of the earth, that had not received the
knowledge of salvation, they felt that the parting commandment of their
Master was not yet fully obeyed; and, while they lived, they made it their
business, more and more fully to execute that command. But their
missionary spirit died with them; and, at the present hour, that
commandment remains still unobeyed. Is it difficult, in this case, to see
the path of duty? Besides, I cannot see, that by preaching at home, we are
hastening the coming glory of the church. God has promised, that all shall
know him. He has not promised that all shall serve him. On
the contrary, he has said, that he will gather his people out of
every nation, kindred, tongue, and people; which, evidently implies, that
all shall not be his people. Far be it from me to depreciate
the work of the ministry at home. It is a most important work. But still,
while there are any sitting in darkness and the shadow of death, it must
yield in importance to the missionary field. Besides, who can tell what an
effect our neglect of God’s commandment, to preach to all nations,
may have, in causing him to withhold his Spirit from the exertions of
Christians at home? conclude. I was abruptly conclude. I was struck with
the variety of incidents in your last. Let us contemplate much, my dear
friend, the grand operations of God to our world; and, let us thus learn
to feel our own insignificance, and to merge every selfish consideration
in the great work to which we are called."
The progress of his
religious sentiments and feelings, the following letters will show.
The first is the letter
alluded to, in that to his friend C—, already inserted. It is too valuable
to be omitted.
"MY VERY DEAR FRIEND — The
receipt of your interesting communication, and of a note from my friend,
Mr. Tait, accompanying a treatise on Confessions of Faith, have been among
the most remarkable events in my history, since I wrote last; they have,
at least,, been almost the only varieties that have broken the regularity
and sameness of a ceaseless routine of occupations, repeated with little
change or interruptions, day after day. Not that I am displeased, or
wearied of my retirement, for I esteem it as a very great privilege. But I
preface my letter thus, merely to remind you, that though you, who are a
public character, and are surrounded by all the bustle and variety of
numerous avocations, have such a body of’ interesting matter to
communicate, that you pant for utterance in the expression of it; and one
subject leading to another, the stream of information so enlarges as you
go along that the very sheets of paper seem to have foreseen its rising
magnitude, and, aware of what was coming, to have extended their
dimensions, in proportion as the fund of your information increased — I
say, though this be the case with you, you must remember that it is very
different with a solitary recluse, who has no companions but his books,
(with most of whom you are better acquainted than himself,) and scarcely
any engagements but his private studies. But a truce to this trifling. I
must proceed to answer your very interesting letter. We may, sometimes,
draw illustrations of spiritual things from the most ordinary occurrences
in life; and they are not, on that account, the less striking. Your
feelings expressed in the beginning of your letter, with respect to your
correspondence, struck me as a good illustration of the nature and
operation of faith. You knew something of the character of a
fellow-creature, as much, you thought, as to entitle you to rely upon his
veracity. You knew, however, that he was fallible, and subject to change;
and yet, on this previous knowledge of his character, you confidently
expected the fulfilment of a promise he had made to you. The time of its
fulfilment came, however, and it seemed to you to have been broken. You
were ‘perplexed to account for his silence.’ You tried to account for it
by some expressions of regret he had used, that he had made the
engagement; but you did not think this a sufficient explanation of his
failing to perform it. Now, what was it that made you think, even in the
face of existing circumstances, that your friend might have performed his
promise? It was your faith in his veracity, founded on the previous
manifestations of his character which you had observed. Now, let us
compare this, or rather, let us contrast it with our faith in the promises
of God. Instead of an imperfect guessing at his character, from displays
of it, which might generally correspond with what we think its leading
characteristics, but which sometimes speak in direct opposition to them;
all the manifestations of the divine character we have ever beheld, have
been in perfect harmony with each other, all going to establish the grand
truths, that the ‘Lord is good;’ that ‘the Judge of all the earth will do
rightly:’ and, above all, to demonstrate almost from the very nature of
the divine existence, that ‘with him there is no variableness or shadow of
turning;’ that he is a God who cannot lie. Now is it not very
strange, that with these, so sure grounds for implicit confidence, our
faith in the divine goodness and faithfulness is so weak, as to permit our
being perplexed by any of the dispensations of his providence, however
dark and discouraging? You will remark, that this very perplexity is an
indication of a certain degree of faith; it is a struggling between
our confidence in the individual, and the circumstances around us which
seem to impeach his character. If this circumstantial proof be very
strong, then the perplexity indicates a very strong degree of
confidence, to enable us to resist the conviction of this strong
circumstantial proof. But though, in these circumstances, perplexity does
indicate a very strong degree of faith; yet it, at the same time,
indicates an imperfection of faith. It may require very strong faith to
stand in the combat against a very strong enemy: but perfect confidence
would do more, it would overthrow the enemy, it would gain the victory.
But perplexity implies, that this is not the case. It implies suspense. It
implies that we have not come to a decision. It implies that the combat is
yet doubtful; that the victory has not yet been gained. Now is it not
strange that our faith in a creature, weak as are the grounds of it,
should carry us so far? And that strong as are the foundations of our
confidence in God, it does not carry us further? — that the one should
carry us so far as to land us in perplexity; that the other should not
carry us so far as to extricate us from perplexity? Oh! my friend, were we
but deeply impressed with a sense of God’s all-sufficiency, how much of
our unhappiness would be taken away! There would be no murmuring at the
dispensations of Providence; there would be no regret on reflecting on the
past, but the regret that we had ever departed from God; there would be no
fear, on looking forward to the future, but the fear lest we might again
break his commandments. Sin itself, from which we can never be wholly
freed in this world, would still remain to trouble us; but all those
sources of misery which indirectly spring from it would be removed. And by
a continual dependence on God, and confidence in him, the power even of
sin itself would be continually weakening within us. The firm belief; that
God was working in us both to will and to do of his good pleasure, would
encourage us to work out with fear and trembling, that part of our
salvation yet remains, even our deliverance from the power of sin.
Connected with this subject, that is a striking passage, ‘Walk thou before
me, and be thou
perfect.’
"But I am awakened from
this long reverie, by receiving that it is near our dinner hour. I sat
down in despondency, thinking I should find nothing to say; and resolved
by way of making matter, to write a commentary on your epistle. I believe
I shall make out pretty well in respect of quantity, if I paraphrase the
whole of it at as great length as I have done these first few first
sentences.
"PERTH, -------,
"My DEAR F : I take the
liberty of writing these few lines, in answer to yours. We were glad to
hear of your safe arrival, but were sorry to see the same depression
spread over your letter, which we had formerly lamented to behold in
yourself. You do not say anything particular about the state of your
health; we trust, however, that the change of place, and the bustle and
excitement of travelling may have (partly at least) removed your
nervousness. Circumstances, indeed, seem to be very depressing. But we, my
dear ----, have consolations that should bear us up, and even make us glad
under the severest calamities. That climax of misfortune, so beautifully
described by the prophet, in the verses, ‘Though the fig-tree shall not
blossom,’ &c., has not yet by any means come upon us; and shall our hearts
refuse to join in his triumphant expression of gladness, ‘Yet will I
rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the God of my salvation?’ We have a still
surer word of prophecy than that which he was instrumental in delivering.
We have a surer light to guide our footsteps, and brighter promises to
cheer us on our journey. And shall we repine, when all is comparatively
smooth and even before us? When we see our way before us and can perceive
no difficulty to oppose our progress, we do not need to call into exercise
our trust in the promises of God; we do not walk by faith, but by sight.
But it is where our way is dark, and there seems to be a lion in the path,
that we feel our weakness. It is then that our faith in his promises is
put to the test, who hath said, ‘Lo, I am with you always.’ Is it not
strange, that we can believe such promises of support and succour as are
written on every page of the Bible, and ever feel discouraged or
perplexed? Such a belief; were it perfect, would transform even this
world, with all its trials and afflictions, into heaven. Such a faith,
however, is unattainable, while we are wedded to a body of corruption, and
exposed to the malicious suggestions of the adversary. But though this
faith cannot be altogether attained, yet it may be approached to, of which
we have some most triumphant proofs in the history of the people of God.
But I must stop short."
"PERTH, July, —.
"My DEAR C—: It now
seems, I think, determined, that I may yet entertain the hope of spending
another winter with my dear friends in St. Andrew’s; and, as matters have
turned out, I feel almost sorry that I did not confine within my own
breast, those painful feelings, which the prospect of parting naturally
excites. Had the matter been determined otherwise, however, it might have
seemed unfriendly and self-willed to have asked no aid in the decision of
it from the counsels and prayers of my Christian friends. As it is, the
decision is not mine, but has chiefly been determined by circumstances
over which I had no control; but which have, I trust, been graciously
ordered by him who is the God of providence, and who has promised that
all things shall work together for our good, if we put our trust in
him. In considering what might be the path of duty in this matter, I was a
good deal perplexed. Had I not thought at all of engaging in the work of
missions, I should not have doubted, that I ought to finish my
course at St. Andrew’s before entering a Theological Academy. And, on the
other hand, had I come to the determination of devoting myself to that
work, (especially with the views I have of China as a field of labour,) I
should not have hesitated to present my services to the Missionary
Society, at present, and thus avail myself of the advantages of personal
intercourse with Dr. Morrison. Neither of these was the case, however. It
is now about a year since, I thought seriously of personally labouring in
the foreign department of the Christian ministry; and although, at a more
advanced period of life, twelve months’ consideration and prayer might
seem sufficient for determining a question even of this importance; yet
you will perceive, that my extreme youth altogether alters the case. If my
wish to preach the gospel of Christ among the heathen, have in it aught of
the romance of a boyish imagination, a few years’ thought and experience
will extinguish its ardor; but if the Lord has appointed me to declare his
name to the Gentiles, and that wish has been implanted in my breast by the
Spirit of God, delays and disappointments will but foster its growth and
make it yet more vigorous. For these reasons, I could not feel it my duty
to make a direct application to the Missionary Society, to study in London
under their superintendence. But, on the other hand, the facilities of
acquiring oriental languages, which the metropolis presents at present,
and which are very uncertain in their continuance, make me anxious to be
in London, if possible. After considering the matter in all these points
of view, consulting my friends here, and asking counsel and direction from
the Most High, it seemed to me my duty to make application to Hoxton
Academy, which is intended chiefly for the home department, but which
sometimes also receives missionary students. This step, you see, had it
been taken, would have given me all the advantages I could wish from an
immediate residence in the capital, and yet have left my future
destination still a matter of consideration and prayer. The letter I
received from the Secretary of the Hoxton Committee, in answer to my
application, satisfies me as to the duty of remaining another year in
Scotland. Had I not made this application, I might have looked back with
regret on the opportunities I had neglected; but as it is, my conscience
is satisfied in having done what I thought was my duty; and those feelings
are also gratified, which I had to struggle with, in the performance of
that duty. Excuse me, my dear friend, for having dwelt so long on this
subject. I am sorry that I have spent so much time, that I have little
remaining to answer your very interesting and affecting letter."
"PERTH, September, 1825.
"MY DEAR FRIEND — I do not know
whether debts of kindness, like other debts, admit of being regularly
summed up in a debtor and credit column, and balanced against each other.
If so, though you confessed the balance due to me in your last, I fear
your punctuality and my negligence have more than reversed the matter, and
I am now much deeper in your debt than ever you have been in mine. I will
not attempt to offer apologies. I might, I believe, conscientiously spin
out some that would appear feasible, but I am always suspicious of the
sincerity of a man’s sorrow who expresses great contrition for a fault he
has committed, which, at the same time, he labours with all his might to
extenuate by every trifling excuse that can, or scarcely can be alleged
for it. I have been negligent; you will forgive me; and there the matter
must rest. I was much struck with the spirit of earnest affection and
fervent piety that pervaded your last; and the account you give of the
employment of your leisure hours sufficiently explains the greater
vividness of your spiritual affections. There is a beautiful action and
reaction of our religious feelings and actions upon each other; grace,
shown to us by God, prompts us to deeds of charity to our fellow-men; and
these deeds, all-imperfect and even displeasing to God, as they must be in
themselves from the sin that mingles with the purest of them, are again
rewarded by a fresh supply of the favour of our God, which must again lead
to deeds of yet more extended benevolence, which are again to meet with a
richer reward from the inexhaustible resources of Almighty goodness. It is
thus, that he who waters others is watered himself; and of such an
individual John Bunyan’s paradoxical lines are strikingly true:
"‘A man there was, though some did
count him mad,
The more he cast away, the more he had.’
I say not these things to
flatter you. Even where the richest rewards are given for the most
indefatigable labours of love, we must ever remember that no reward is
deserved, and the individual should be ready to exclaim, with him who was
instant in season and out of season in the duties of his office, and who
was conscious that his labours were more abundant than those of any of his
brethren, ‘Yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me.’ I thank you
for your very kind admonitions on my weakness of faith. It has much to
struggle with in a heart that is but partially renewed; I fear very much
that unsanctified confidence which is the most fearful temptation with
which the adversary can assail us; a confidence that sin cannot damp; a
confidence that, in some cases, the approach of death itself will not
destroy, but which will lead its possessor to the very gate of heaven and
will only be dispelled when the fearful response is given, ‘I never knew
you, depart from me ye workers of iniquity.’ Then he who has been deceived
by its delusive whispers of ‘peace, peace, when there was no peace,’ shall
exclaim in the very paroxysm of astonishment and despair, ‘The harvest is
past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved!’ The consideration of such
a case as this, should make us ‘examine ourselves, whether we be in the
faith.’ It is true, that, if we look, to ourselves for comfort, we shall
never obtain it; but, it is equally true, that, if the gospel is not to us
the spring of holiness as well as the source of our comfort, ‘we are
deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us.’ We must not dread the
discovery that we have been making little progress, or even that we have
been pursuing a retrograde motion in the Christian course; nor must we
smother every emotion of insecurity and danger that may rise on such a
review. True, we must not cherish such emotions, and rest in them till
they lead us to despair. They must lead us anew to the blood of
sprinkling. That which gave consolation when all we could look back upon
was an unbroken course of rebellion, will give consolation still; and it
is only by such a process, I conceive, that true comfort can be obtained."
During the summer months,
besides teaching a Sabbath-school in the neighbourhood of Perth, and
keeping his meeting with the young men once a week for conversation on the
Scriptures, he diligently pursued his studies and a course of reading.
From some memoranda among his papers, I find that he kept a regular
account of every day’s employment. It commences on the 12th of May, on
which day he arrived at his father’s. It then lays down the following plan
of study and occupation for the future: "To rise at seven o’clock; Greek
Testament till eight; walk till nine; breakfast between nine and ten;
Hebrew Psalms till eleven; Mathematics till twelve; French till one; Greek
till two; English reading till three; dinner, three to four; Latin, four
to six; tea, six to seven. Walk," &c.
At the end of September is
the following summary of his occupations for the preceding months: "Greek
Testament, Matthew to the Epistle to the Romans. Revised one hundred and
eighty-four pages of Hebrew Grammar. Read forty verses of Hebrew Psalms.
Revised six books of Euclid’s Elements; one hundred and twenty pages of
Bridge’s Algebra; wrote one essay and fifteen letters. Read seventy-two
Lectures of Brown’s Philosophy; Baxter’s Saint’s Rest; Gilbert’s Life of
Williams; Edwards on Religious Affections; Narrative of a Tour to the
Grande Chartreuse; Home’s Letters on Missions; Orme’s Letter to Irving;
fourteen Miscellaneous Discourses."
It is evident, from this
statement, that he did not pass his time idly or unprofitably. It does
not, however, contain the whole of his employments. Besides what is
mentioned above it appears from the daily entries, that he read several of
the Orations of Cicero; considerable portions of Homer, Thucydides, &c. He
besides met with several interruptions, which repeatedly engrossed most of
his time for a number of days together.
The following excellent
letter he wrote to his friend Craik, shortly before he went to London:—
"BAROSSA PLACE, September 3,
1825.
"MY VERY DEAR FRIEND — I am
astonished to find, on looking to the date of your last, that it is so
long since I received it: and, probably, if you have been expecting a
letter, the time, that has seemed to me like a few hours, may have been
felt by you as if longer than it actually is. At least, so I feel, I
always think my friends are very long in answering my letters, and yet I
find, that, even when I conceived myself most punctual, I am more dilatory
than any of my correspondents. That is an apt personification of time,
which represents him as a decrepit old man with wings, that are visible
only from behind. While we watch his approach he seems to creep tardily
along: it is not till he has passed us that we perceive he has been
flying. I cannot tell you how much I felt on the receipt of your very
splendid and very affectionate present. It has become so common, from the
higher refinement of our day, in the acknowledgment of the most
common-place favour, for an individual to allege that he cannot express
his gratitude, that I am almost ashamed to use the much-hackneyed phrase.
But, in my case, it is used in simple honesty; and I know you will believe
me when I say so. The word ‘memorial,’ in the inscription which of course
struck my eye before reading your letter, affected me a good deal. I
feared it was prophetic of separation, and looked anxiously over your
letter for the passage which should tell me that you had got an
appointment to some situation which would prevent our meeting in St.
Andrew’s next winter. I was agreeably relieved from my anxiety by finding
in your last page, instead of an account of your fancied removal, a
proposal of lodging in the same house with me. And I was pleased to think,
that, by calling your present a ‘memorial’ of our friendship, you meant,
perhaps, to remind me of the fleeting nature of our intercourse; which
soon, it may be very soon, will exist only in the recollection of the
past.
"My alternations of feeling somewhat
resembled those of one, who, on returning after a long absence, to the
land of his nativity, should ask some passer-by, in pointing to a
sepulchral pile before them, whose monument that was which seemed to have
been so lately erected, and should be answered by the mention of the name
of one whom he remembered as one of the dearest companions of his youth,
and in whose company he had yet hoped again to revive the recollection of
joys that had long departed, — a feeling, in some respects, more pleasing
even than the joys themselves; but whose informer, on perceiving the gloom
that had overcast his countenance, should rejoin, not to think that he was
dead, he was still alive for whom that monument was intended; he had built
it, not like many who in lifetime raise a splendid mausoleum for their
dust, as if to demonstrate that infatuated man can be proud even of his
frailty; but to stimulate him to greater diligence in the improvement of a
season, in which so much has to be done, which, at its longest, is so very
short, and which even were it longer is so very uncertain. But whither am
I wandering? Excuse a mind that is sometimes too fond of amplifying
trifles. I would scarcely write in such a motley strain to any but
yourself. If, however, Cowper published a moral poem on ‘The Sofa,’ I may
be excused for moralizing in a private letter, on the word ‘memorial.’"
* * * * * *
"Most of Newton’s Letters I
have read, and those I read with very great pleasure. And, though not
perhaps after this particular author that I remember, yet, frequently
after perusing such authors, have I shared in the feelings you express; a
fear, that the spirit that animated such men is fast declining. Often have
I asked myself the question, Is not Christianity the same now as it was in
the days of Owen and Baxter, and Newton? and why then is it that we now so
seldom meet with ‘living epistles of Christ,’ such as they were? If we
do not observe this lukewarmness, the world will. If we do not
use it as an incitement to greater fervency of prayer for the reviving
influences of the divine Spirit, infidels will make their use of it, in
drawing from it arguments against the power of religion. I have often
thought that I perceived arguments against evangelical religion, far
stronger than its opposers have ever adduced; and I have wondered how they
could escape the notice of such acute men as we have often had to mourn
over among the ‘enemies of the cross of Christ.’ I think it is the pious
Newton, of whom we have just been speaking, who thinks he perceives in
this, the watching of a gracious Providence, lest the mind of a weak
believer should be shaken by the corroboration of those arguments from
another, which must often have appeared fearfully alarming in his own
experience. Were the opposers of evangelical truth, instead of their
worn-out vocabulary of opprobrious epithets, to employ fair arguments from
the inconsistency of Christians, many of us would be struck dumb. If ‘our
treasure be in heaven, our heart will be there also.’ And if our heart be
there, since it is ‘out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh,’
our conversation will be about heavenly things. How different, however, is
the case! On this subject there are two or three very beautiful verses,
which I have just read, in a collection of hymns, by Thomas Kelly, (I know
very little about the author; the volume I quote them from belongs to a
sister of Robert Trail’s) in which, although there is no great strength of
conception, or beauty of imagery, there are contained some strains of
lively piety and Christian feeling, expressed in very simple language.
Such, I think, are these verses, paraphrased from, or rather suggested by,
Malachi iii. 16. ‘Then they that feared the Lord, spake often one to
another,’ &c.
"‘Why should believers, when they
meet,
Not speak of Christ, the King they own:
Who gives them hope that they shall sit
With him for ever on his throne?
Is any other name so great
As his who bore the sinner’s load?
Is any subject half so sweet,
So various as the love of God?
"Tis this that charms reluctant man,
That makes his opposition cease;
Beholding love’s amazing plan,
He drops his arms, and sues for peace.
‘Twas so with us, we once were foes,
Were foes to Him who gave us breath;
But no whose mercy freely flows,
Has saved us from eternal death.
We look with hope to that great day,
When Jesus will with clouds appear,
A sight of him will well repay
Our labours and our sorrows here.
Of Him then let us speak and sing,
Whose glory we expect to share;
In heaven we shall behold our King,
And yield a nobler tribute there.’
"I cannot help mentioning,
that I, last week, received a letter from our friend Mr. T , very richly
imbued with Christian feeling. Political economy, and even church
establishments, were fairly cast in the shade; and there was an
earnestness of affection, and warmth of feeling manifested, while writing
on the grand subjects of our common faith, and expatiating on the
endearments of Christian friendship, of which you would scarcely believe
our phlegmatic friend susceptible; and with which only such
subjects could inspire him.
"The account Mr. T— gives
of the employment of his leisure hours, sufficiently explains (to me at
least) this increased spirituality of his mind. He had been, for some
time, paying daily visits to the ‘house of mourning.’ Two of the people he
has been accustomed to visit, died during the summer; of none of them he
thinks he had hope in their death."
In the month of September
he went to London, on a visit to his friend, Mr. Adam; in the course of
which, he spent a few days with me, the last of my earthly intercourse
with him. The following extract of a letter from Mr. Adam, to me, notices
this visit, and some of the objects which occupied his attention during
the following winter, after his return to St. Andrew’s.
"At the close of the
session he persuaded me, before leaving for England, to spend a short time
with his friends at Perth, which I did; and before returning again the
following winter, I persuaded him to pay me a visit in return at Homerton.
During this visit, he was introduced to Dr. Morrison and Mr. Townley, and
openly expressed the wish he had fostered previously in his bosom, to
devote himself to missionary labours. We returned to College together, and
being linked by a new bond, a common desire to benefit the heathen, we
applied ourselves afresh to our general studies, and to a thorough
investigation of everything relating to missions. For this purpose we
searched the sacred Scriptures, and summed up our inquiries under the head
of precepts, prophecies, examples, and promises. We also
perused Brown’s History of Missions; Horne’s, Ward’s, Milne’s, and
Judson’s Letters; the Lives of Martyn, (which he read repeatedly, and
eagerly drank into his spirit,) Brainerd and Chamberlain; Ward’s History
of the Hindoos, &c. During this winter our Society nourished, and several
essays were read, not only by ourselves, but by others, some of whom we
believed to be inquiring after the path of duty; and, as I perceived, were
not a little influenced by the powerful and affecting manner in which John
pleaded the claims of the heathen. With a sedulous attention to his
engagements at the College, he found time to visit the sick, to give his
assistance at some little meetings formed for the religious instruction of
the poor during the week, and occasionally to supply some village
stations, where there was preaching on a Sunday. I had forgotten to say,
at the beginning of this session he laboured diligently for a time at the
Chinese, and actually accomplished, by his unaided endeavours, a
translation of the first chapter of John’s Gospel. Attention to so many
different objects rendered it absolutely necessary that he should soon
relinquish the least pressing, and consequently, as I believe, laid it by,
and never afterwards resumed it."
In a letter to his father,
from London, he gives some account of his visit, and of his future plans.
It contains also some remarks on my respected friend, Dr. Morrison, which
are so just, that I cannot keep them back. I believe the character and
manners of that devoted individual have not been properly understood, and
in some quarters have been treated with a degree of unintentional
injustice. His long and retired residence in a far distant country, and
his absorption in the great object which he has so ardently and
successfully pursued, sufficiently account for certain marked
peculiarities, which I am convinced had no foundation in any obliquity of
temper or disposition. Justice to one of the most enlightened and devoted
servants of Christ, which this or any age has furnished, requires that I
should bear this testimony, while I introduce he observations of my young
friend.
"MARSHGATE, HOMERTON,
Oct. 20, 1825.
"MY DEAR FATHER — In company with
Mr. Adam I called on Dr. Morrison a few days after my arrival, who
received us with that bluntness by which his manners are characterized,
which has by some been represented as approaching to rudeness; but which
is evidently not the want of kindness, but a superiority to those petty
expressions of it which are often used, in our too-refined age, as a
covering for coldness and indifference. Neither did I find Dr. Morrison,
as some of our friends had represented to me, an overweening conceit of
his own sphere of exertion. What he said of missions, had more in it of
calm rationality, and less of enthusiasm, than I should have even expected
from a man who had spent seventeen years in a heathen country. Dr.
Morrison very kindly offered to introduce me to his students at the
Missionary society’s rooms, in Austin-friars, where the Doctor attends
three days in the week, to give instructions in Chinese. I have attended
there, with a few exceptions, every day since my arrival, and have seen as
much of the mode of studying the language as may enable me, should I wish
to pursue it, to do so alone. Dr. Morrison has offered me a loan of the
books that are requisite, which are very expensive, (the Dictionary alone
having been published at thirteen guineas;) and has also made me a present
of a small work, which he has just published, entitled the ‘Chinese
Miscellany.’ With these helps, I hope to do something at the language this
winter, in St. Andrew’s, and should I never make any actual use of it, it
will be a good mental exercise. I have not yet called on Mr. Wilson, but
intend to do so before I leave; but I think it likely that with my present
views, my case does not come within the province of any of the home
theological academies. My plan is to return to St. Andrew’s, to devote the
winter to my ordinary studies, give a little time to Chinese, and more
especially, along with my dear friend John Adam, to consider very
seriously those passages of Scripture which relate to missionary exertion,
as well as to collect from other sources all the information possible upon
this interesting subject, and to pray more earnestly than I have yet done,
for direction in this particular matter. I thus hope by the conclusion of
the winter, so far to have made up my mind as may enable me either to
offer my services to the Missionary Society, or to apply for admission to
some Dissenting academy. May the Lord direct me! I think you may perceive
that my visit to this place has not been to no purpose. There is much
general information that I have obtained, which the narrow limits of a
single letter do not permit me to communicate; and much more which is of
such a nature that it is not very easy to communicate by writing at all;
and, on account of which chiefly, a personal visit seemed advisable."
* * * * * *
Dr. Morrison generously
presented him with his Dictionary; and the papers which he left behind,
sufficiently evince how ardently he entered into the study of that
difficult language. He appears to have mastered some of its peculiarities;
to have committed a number of its radicals to memory, and to have
translated, as Mr. Adam states, the whole of the first chapter of John.
It was during this session
that Dr. Chalmers committed to his charge the Sabbath-school, which met in
his own house; and I am sure it will not give offence to that respected
individual, to find a record in these pages, of the gratitude and
affection of his late pupil, for the attentions which were so kindly shown
him.
"ST. ANDREW’S, December 6,
1825.
"MY DEAR FATHER — The first general
meeting of our University Missionary Society was held yesterday. This
institution seems now, under the blessing of God, to have weathered all
the opposition that threatened at first to crush it, and promises fair to
be established on a secure basis, and to extend the field of its
usefulness. The dignitaries of our College profess to have quite changed
their opinion with regard to it. Dr. Nicol confesses, that the reports we
sent him, gave him information that was quite new to him. Last year, we
were refused a room in the College, and could scarcely obtain a place of
meeting in the town; now Dr. Haldane tells us, that the
Divinity-Hall is at our service, or any other place which his influence
can command. This offer we did not accept, as we had already obtained the
old Episcopal chapel, as a place of meeting, which is more comfortable and
convenient for our purpose, than any other place we could obtain. Our two
principals have not given us fair words merely, but have testified their
sincerity, by sending us a donation of a guinea each, with the promise of
more on the part of Dr. Nicol. These are triumphs, which the most sanguine
advocates of the cause would, a few years ago, have thought it not only
ridiculous to expect, but almost foolish even to wish for. With God,
however, all things are possible; and it is because we expect so little,
and desire so little, and pray for so little on the faith of his promises,
that these promises are not more speedily and more triumphantly
accomplished.
"I think I mentioned, in my
letter to my mother, that I had engaged to teach Dr. Chalmers’s
Sabbath-school during the winter: my school at Denino, in consequence, is
left destitute. I have heard that the children are desirous that it should
be begun again. Mr. Adam has commenced his operations, and I have been
giving him some assistance. I think it advisable, with my present
prospects, that I should engage rather more prominently in such
employments, than otherwise I would be inclined to do.
"Dr. Chalmers has been more
than kind to me this year: indeed, I feel almost oppressed by his
attention. As my school is held in his house, I generally sup with him on
Sunday evening, when I enjoy much more of his conversation than at set
parties, as he and Mrs. Chalmers are then generally alone. I was very much
gratified by a walk I had with Dr. Chalmers, to visit the parents of the
children who attend his school. The people in some of the houses, seemed
to recognize him familiarly, so that he is probably often engaged in the
same labours of love. He thinks such exercises as visiting the poor and
the sick, the best introduction to ministerial labour. ‘This,’ he said, as
we were going along, ‘is what I call preaching the gospel to every
creature. That cannot be done by setting yourself up in a pulpit, as a
centre of attraction, but by going forth and making aggressive movements
upon the community, and by preaching from house to house.’ I mention these
remarks more freely, as I think this is a duty by far too much neglected
among our Dissenting ministers."
The Sabbath-school which he
engaged to teach this winter, in the house of his respected Professor,
from whom he experienced invariable kindness, appears to have occupied his
attention very closely. In a book now before me, is contained a list of
the names of the young persons, with their places of residence. A list of
tracts then follows, which belonged to the school library, with Dr.
Chalmers’s remarks on the character of each. Then a list of tracts, and
small books, read by himself, with his own account of their nature and
tendency. He has also written out, very fully, some of the school
exercises on the Scriptures, which do great credit to his knowledge of the
Scriptures, and his tact for communicating that knowledge.
This winter he entered the
Natural Philosophy class; and, likewise, attended the Hebrew class. In
this language he had before made considerable progress, by the help of
some Hebrew books which I had put into his hands. He likewise, as appears
from his papers, studied hard at Chinese for some time; and only gave it
up from the greater urgency of some other objects.
His mind was now completely
absorbed in the contemplation of future missionary labour: and to this
object, all his pursuits became subservient. The letter of his friend
Adam, shows how much he studied it. The paper book, containing the
arrangement of the plan of investigating the subject remains, and contains
many extracts from the Scriptures, and from various books, on the subject
of missions, and numerous references, which prove how very fully he had
examined the matter. It would be very desirable, indeed, if those who
offer themselves for this service, were found generally to possess such a
knowledge of the work which they profess to undertake. Almost all his
letters and papers, from this time, bear upon this subject, and display at
once the depth of his piety, the ardour of his zeal, and the large portion
of good sense with which he contemplated the service of Christ.
Desirous of obtaining
advice, and of engaging the prayers of his friends on his behalf, he
applied to those in whose judgment and piety he placed confidence, to
assist him. The following is a letter of this kind: —
"MY DEAR AND MUCH RESPECTED
FRIEND—It is now about eleven o’clock on Sunday evening, and I have been
engaged almost the whole of the day in public exercises, so that you will
be disposed to excuse a hurried letter. I write these lines chiefly to
renew my request, that you would favour me with your correspondence on a
subject which now most deeply engages my attention; the determination of
the sphere of labour in which I can most usefully spend my life, if the
Lord spare me, and honour me to do the work of an evangelist. I do not
know whether there be any impropriety in my making this request; if there
be, you must lay it to the account of my ignorance, and forgive me. Were I
soliciting your advice merely for the sake of promoting my own interest, I
should feel that my request was stamped with a character of very gross
egotism. But I feel that I am the property of Christ, and of his church;
and that even my feeble services may have some influence on his cause; and
in this view of the subject you will not think me selfish, in desiring
your attention to what might at first appear my own private affairs.
Almost every person I have conversed with on the matter urges upon me the
duty of attending to the wants of our own country, and assuredly, if our
own country were more neglected, or even as much neglected as other lands,
I should feel the argument in all its force. I do think that our own
countrymen have the first claim upon our attention, and I am inclined to
think that the first preachers of Christianity would have declared the
message of mercy first to the Jews, even though no express command had
been given to preach to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. But I
cannot see how the claims of a native land can be stronger to a Gentile,
than the claims of their own favoured nation were to the Jewish
Christians. On this account, I think we are quite safe in taking the
apostles for our example, in their conduct towards their countrymen. They
did not wait till every dark corner of Judea was fully evangelized; far
less till every heart had been savingly impressed by the truth. It was no
argument to them to remain in Judea, that there were many who heard their
message, that after all had refused to receive it. On the contrary, this
was the very signal for their departure. (Acts xiii. 46; xxviii. 24-29.) I
do feel much for the dark places of our own beloved country; but it does
seem to me that the evangelical ministers of Britain could, with very
little effort, publish the gospel most fully to every individual in the
land. And they would do well to examine how far they are not guilty of the
blood of souls, in not making more vigorous exertions for the heathen
around their own doors. If a pastor of a church cannot do the work of an
evangelist, let a separate person be maintained by every body of
Christians, for this purpose; or, if each church cannot accomplish this,
let a number of churches join in order to do so. I am aware that this is
partly done by the itinerant societies, which are now beginning their
operations, and I rejoice to see it; but still this is but a very feeble
effort, compared with the necessities of the case. I still am inclined to
think that the publication of the gospel, as a message of mercy to
sinners, is the grand object for which the Christian ministry was
instituted, at least it is one of the greatest objects. I do think that
even the edification of the body of Christ, yields to it in point of
importance. We believe that if a sinner once embraces the gospel, he
cannot finally fall away; and even if his progress in the divine life
should be slow, we know that in a very few years at the furthest, a full
display of the glories of the divine character must burst upon him. Now,
whether is it a more important work to rescue a sinner from hell, and
place him in this condition of safety, or to antedate, in a very slight
degree, the happiness of a future state, in one who has believed? For all
our advances in the knowledge of divine truth here must be held
insignificant, when compared with the immense addition to our knowledge
and our happiness, which we shall receive at that time when the dim
conceptions of faith shall be exchanged for the bright realities of actual
vision. I beg that you would not understand me as estimating lightly the
work of grace in the hearts of believers. It is only when contrasted with
the work of regeneration, that I would ever think of it as of secondary
importance. But I am not sure that the work of grace would go on more
slowly in the hearts of believers, from the attention of the pastors being
more called to the work of evangelizing the heathen. I do think in the
present day we are apt to trust too much to public ordinances, and I would
almost like to see Christians more thrown upon the resources of private
devotion, and more direct communion with God. Our knowledge of divine
things, to be sure, is small; but oh! that our piety were but equal to our
knowledge. I am sorry to be obliged to conclude so abruptly."
His correspondent wrote him
an excellent letter in reply to this, which produced another from him,
which I subjoin:
"ST. ANDREW’S,
February 4, 1826.
"MY DEAR FRIEND—I feel much
encouraged by your very kind letter. However clear the way of duty may
seem to be marked out by our own conscience, still it gives us a much
surer confidence in our own convictions, when they are strengthened by the
concurring sentiments of our Christian friends, especially of those
friends whom we highly esteem. I am not sorry on the whole, that hitherto
my friends have all opposed my desire to preach Christ among the heathen.
Perhaps it is well that we should have to wade through a good deal of
opposition, in making up our mind on a subject of such importance. There
is an air of romance which invests the subject of missionary adventure,
when first it is presented to the mind of the young disciple; (what Mr.
Malan in writing to my friend Mr. Adam, calls ‘Un trait de l’imagination;’)
and it is well, perhaps, that this false fire should be damped by
opposition. It is a principle, I believe, among the Moravians, ‘never to
persuade any person to be a missionary.’ And perhaps we should still act
in the spirit of this maxim, did we even carry it so far as rather to
repress than to stimulate the incipient zeal of the candidate for
missionary service. For surely if our desire for the work cannot stand
against the remonstrances of our friends, we have every reason to think
that it would soon be quenched amid the heavy and lengthened
discouragements which must be met with in the work itself. If the desire
to serve my Saviour among the heathen were merely of myself, it is
not like the fickleness of my natural disposition to have persevered in it
till now, while meeting with so little encouragement. I do trust that the
Spirit of the Lord has implanted this desire in my breast, and I know that
he will perfect what he has begun. You speak of the difficulties connected
with the work of a missionary. I can assure you, my dear friend, that as I
have perused the history of former labourers, they have thickened upon my
view. It is not to the natural dangers and hardships of the missionary
life that I refer. It is not the prospect of encountering the diseases of
an insalubrious atmosphere, with a frame that is not very robust, which
affects me. If we perish in such a cause, we perish gloriously, and in
this respect we ‘conquer though we are slain.’ There is something sweet in
the contemplation of suffering for Christ’s sake. ‘If we suffer with him,
we shall also reign with him.’ And ‘the more we toil and suffer here, the
sweeter rest will be.’ These are not the difficulties that I fear. But, I
confess, I do tremble when I think of the spiritual dangers, the
temptations of a heathen land, where all those barriers are broken down,
‘which are the only safe-guards of the boasted virtue of the great
mass of our community, and which operate, perhaps more strongly than he is
aware, in restraining those evil propensities and worldly lusts, with
which even the Christian has to contend. I have been very much depressed
to find the instances of apostasy among missionaries, so very numerous;
and that some, who, for a long time did run well, were afterwards hindered
by ‘the lust of the flesh, or the lust of the eye, or the pride of life.’
While I look at this dark side of the picture, there is nothing gives me
any comfort, but a complete reliance on the faithfulness of Him who has
promised that as our day is, so shall our strength be. Oh, for a stronger
faith in my Redeemer! a closer walk with my God! I see that
spirituality of mind is the main qualification for the work of
a missionary, and this is the very qualification which I feel that I most
want. But I believe that He who hath given the desire to serve him, will
also give the ability to fulfil that desire. I know that though weak in
myself; I am strong in him. And I will rest in the promises of his love.
Christ, when he dwells in the heart by faith, can impart of his own
omnipotence to weakness itself; for through him, (may the weakest
Christian say,) I can do all things. I have been struck with the view you
give of the pastoral office, as raising up labourers. It is a view of it
which I had not sufficiently considered. When we look intently at
one object, it is very probable that other most interesting objects may
altogether escape our notice; and so when the mind is much occupied with
the consideration of a single object, the very intensity of our attention
to it may be the means of obscuring our perception of other objects
equally important. Dr. Chalmers has of late plied me a good deal with the
same kind of argument for remaining in this country. ‘You may render even
to the cause of missions,’ he says, ‘perhaps greater service in raising up
labourers by your preaching here.’ My reply to this, however, is just a
reference to facts. Christianity has been long preached, and many converts
have been made in our own land, and the cause of Christian philanthropy,
moreover, has been most ably pleaded; but notwithstanding, when labourers
are called for, the eloquent advocates of missions shrink back, and scarce
any are found to go forth."