Letter to his Mother in
reference to his becoming a Tutor in a family of high respectability —
Letter to Herbert Smith, Esq. — Extracts from his Journal—Letter to Mr.
Craik—Letter—Extracts from his Journal — Letter to Mr. Trail —Letter to
his Sister — Letters —Extracts from various letters to Mr. Scott Moncrieff—
Letter to his friend C. — Letter to Mr. Herbert Smith — Letter to the Rev.
John Burnett — Letter to Mr. Adam — Letter to Mr. Orme — Letter —Letters
to his Sister — Letter to Mr. Trail — Letter to Mr. Adam— Letter to his
afflicted friend — Letter to Mr. Trail.
Previously to John’s
leaving St. Andrew’s, a negotiation had been carried on, through Dr.
Chalmers, with a family of the highest respectability, in which a tutor
was required for an only son. It was finally agreed that he should occupy
this situation soon after the close of his College course. This
arrangement arose, not out of any change in his mind respecting the work
of the gospel, but was acceded to, with a view to satisfy his friends, and
finally to gain their consent to his becoming a missionary; and also, in
the expectation of being able to promote his own improvement by retirement
and study. The following extract from a letter to his mother, will explain
his motives, the state of his mind, and a few other particulars:
"ST. ANDREW’S, April 15,
1826.
"MY DEAR MOTHER — I am afraid I have
kept you in suspense regarding my plans. I have been waiting in daily
expectation of hearing something more definite respecting the situation I
wrote about.
"Before I heard of this
situation at all, I wrote to Mr. Orme, asking his advice how I ought to
proceed after this session, telling him my views regarding missions, and
particularly wishing to know the state of the Missionary Society’s
arrangements. I received his answer, and my father’s last letter by the
same post. His advice was to write to Mr. Arundel, making application to
the Society. You know this was the plan I had purposed to myself, and you
may guess that I was in no small perplexity how to act. The prospect of
benefitting by classes at Glasgow, my extreme youth and inexperience, and,
above all, the wish to show my dear parents that I am willing to acquiesce
in their wishes as far as conscience will permit, have induced me to
accept of this situation. I hope the Lord has been my guide in this
matter.
"Accordingly I communicated
my willingness to avail myself of his kindness, to Dr. Chalmers, who wrote
to Lord Rosslyn immediately. A letter has come from Lord Rosslyn to Dr.
Chalmers, this morning, enclosing a letter from Colonel M-----to his
lordship, giving some more information respecting the place. Nothing is
said about the salary. I do not expect it will be great, as my charge will
be very small, and I am to have the liberty of attending classes.
"I told Dr. Chalmers
distinctly to state to Lord Rosslyn that I am a Dissenter, and that if I
am near Glasgow, I should like to attend Dr. Wardlaw, or Mr. Ewing.
Perhaps this may be an objection to my settling in the family; if so, it
is better that it be stated now, than afterwards."
Previously to his joining
the family, then on a visit at Lord Rosslyn’s, at Dysart House, he
proposed a short missionary tour in the Highlands, along with his friend
Mr. Adam; but he was taken ill in his father’s house, and rendered
incapable of any exertion for some weeks. While convalescent he wrote a
long letter to an old fellow-student, between whom and himself there
appears to have subsisted a very endeared friendship. I mean Herbert
Smith, Esq., of Egham, Surrey. The testimony of that gentleman, to the
amiable, and Christian character of my beloved friend, and to his high
intellectual attainments, corresponds with that of all his other
associates. To him John gives an account of some of the plans which had
been prosecuted at St. Andrew’s, during the preceding winter. In this
respect it is particularly interesting, and also for the reference to the
simultaneous movements in the Universities.
"PERTH, May 11, 1826.
"MY VERY DEAR FRIEND — I was
just going to proceed with an account of the St. Andrew’s University
Missionary Society, (in which you have always taken so deep an interest,)
when I was compelled to leave off, through weakness. To resume the subject
then — at our first meeting we had not a very large attendance: we
presented the different presents of books which had been received from
yourself, Dr. Morrison, Mr. Townley, and other friends of the missionary
cause. I then read to the Society that part of your very interesting
letter, which directly referred to our association; and, I trust, we have
profited by the hints it contained. Votes of thanks were ordered to be
transferred to those liberal donors who had made such valuable additions
to its library. I took the responsibility of communicating to you this
expression of the Society’s gratitude. I am ashamed to think that it has
not been communicated long, long ere now. I cannot go minutely into
details. Suffice it to say, that the Society has prospered even more than
in the former session. We were kindly permitted to meet in the old
Episcopalian chapel. Dr. Haldane at once accepted the patronage of the
Society, and offered any room in St. Mary’s we might think convenient, as
a place of meeting. One thing I think exceedingly interesting, is, that
similar societies have now been formed in all the Universities of
Scotland, and a kind of simultaneous movement was made this last session,
towards a system of general correspondence. Might we hope that this could
be extended to institutions of a similar nature, in the Universities of
England? In a letter from the Society in the Glasgow University, they
mentioned that they had had some correspondence with a Missionary
Association in one of the Colleges of America. It were very desirable (and
I think it is not impracticable) to see all the pious young men in our
great seminaries of learning, united to each other by this great bond of
Christian philanthropy. Perhaps you could do something by opening a
channel of correspondence between some of the Colleges in Cambridge, and
the Scottish Universities. I expect to spend next winter in Glasgow. I
could communicate anything from you on this subject, to the Association
there, and it would immediately be circulated among the sister
Universities.
"15th. There is a new
system of religious instruction which has been attempted in St. Andrew’s
this last session, and which I think is a most efficient system for
evangelizing large towns. The plan is very simple. We just inquired after
some persons residing in different quarters of the town, who were
religiously disposed. We called on these, and requested the favour of a
room in their house, for a few of the neighbours to assemble in for
religious purposes. We expected a little group of eight or ten persons to
assemble, but were astonished to find the attendance increase in some of
the stations to fifty or sixty. Many of these never went to church.
We generally read and explained a passage of Scripture, and read some
extracts from such books as we thought were most striking and useful. I
have some doubt whether a layman in the Church of England could attempt
this; but if the laws of the church and the state allow, I think many a
Christian would find ample scope for such employment, in the dark places
of your towns and villages. You understand, we never called it
preaching; and accordingly Dr. Haldane gave his consent that the young
men in the Established Church should engage in the work. Churchmen and
Dissenters all went hand in hand, and we forgot that there was any
distinction. And this must be the case more universally, ere the cause of
our great Redeemer can go triumphantly forward. Tait has already begun
similar meetings in Edinburgh, and some have been commenced here. I do
think this a most plausible method for getting at that class of the
community who do not attend the public services of the gospel. You know
Dr. Chalmers’s plan is a little different. He wishes the Christian
philanthropist to visit every family. The great objection to this plank in
my estimation, is the difficulty of finding a sufficient number of agents.
The Doctor’s objection to pulpit instructions, when they stand alone, is,
that you are setting up a centre of attraction; this will only draw some
of the people, some are not under the influence of the attracting power,
and they must be dealt with in another way. You must make an aggressive
movement towards them. Before setting the plan I speak of in operation, I
asked Dr. Chalmers’s opinion of it. He gave his decided approbation to it,
although he thought the system of individual visitation a better one, if
it could be accomplished. This new plan, however, he thought had a much
greater efficacy than common preaching, when alone. Instead of setting up
one great centre of attraction; it was like carrying about the magnet, and
bringing it near to the iron filings.
"P. S. I am not sure where
I may be this summer, but a letter addressed to my father’s care, will
always find me. I could have written a great deal more, but my writing is
so bad that I fear when written across, it is quite unintelligible. I wish
I had taken a larger sheet."
From this time I shall do
little more than make John his own biographer; a journal which he began to
keep more regularly and fully than formerly, and a large mass of letters,
will enable me to maintain a tolerably connected narrative, without
interposing many remarks of my own. To enable the reader to form some idea
of his journal, I shall give the first part of it almost entire,
afterwards I shall intersperse a few extracts from it, with his
correspondence. As he lived for the most part very retired, no
extraordinary incidents can be expected; but his steady and rapid
advancement towards the heavenly glory is strongly marked.
"DYSART
HOUSE, June 3, 1826.
"My journal has now been at a stand
for nearly a month, and I think I have experienced the bad effects of
neglecting it. Hitherto it has been exclusively, or nearly exclusively,
literary; and, even in that point of view, extremely meagre, a mere
catalogue of the number of pages read and written. May I not, with
advantage, extend my plan? I think I have profited in my studies, from
taking daily account of my progress. Might not this hold equally in regard
to other engagements? I have strong objections to the writing down of
religious experiences. Perhaps I am wrong in this. My strongest objection
is the fear that these papers may meet the eye of another, and that this
consideration might influence me in writing. This might prove a great
source of delusion to my own soul. But still, perhaps, I am wrong. The
conduct of the most eminent servants of Christ is a strong plea in favour
of such journals. I am much pleased with the plan of my dear Henry Craik
on this matter. I shall attempt something on his system. If I fail, it
matters not. I must just relapse into my old brief summary. But to begin.
What have I done last month? Left St. Andrew’s in the end of April. Spent
a fortnight at home with my relations, and my dear John Adam. Unwell
nearly all the time, and prevented by illness from an intended missionary
expedition to the Highlands. Came here about the middle of May. Felt the
dreariness of having no Christian society. Favoured with an introduction
to some of the ‘excellent of the earth,’ Captain Barclay, Mr. Thompson,
&c. I have studied very little since I came here, have felt unsettled.
This is quite wrong. We should ever be ready for duty, and it is our
own fault, if, in all circumstances, we do not find abundance to occupy
our time.
"4th. Sunday eveninq.—Read
one chapter of the Greek Testament. Found my pupil rather backward in
his attendance on my religious instructions. Anything connected with the
service of the English Church is most relished by the family. Even the
Scriptures seem most acceptable when I propose reading the lessons for
the day. It is right to humour these prejudices, in imitation of him
who became ‘all things to all men.’ I have heard two very excellent
discourses from Mr. Thomas and Mr. Aikenhead, respectively. Visited a
Sabbath-school, and addressed the children. I have some fear, that these
institutions are not, in all cases, productive of the good that might be
expected, for want of more efficient modes of teaching. Committing to
memory what they do not understand, can profit the children very little.
My second proposal, for holding family worship with the servants, has been
received with coolness, but not absolutely negatived. The Lord will open
up ways of usefulness for me. Read ninety pages of the Rev. Thomas Scott’s
Life, exceedingly interesting.
"5th.
A very idle day. I find I cannot study
to advantage without a plan. I shall lay it down as a maxim,
however short time I may stay in any place, to have my hours allotted
specifically to different engagements as far as such an arrangement may be
practicable. For want of this, I have lost much of the time I have spent
at Dysart. Attended a missionary prayer meeting this evening, but was in a
very cold and careless frame of mind. I have felt for some days, as if a
veil were drawn over the things of another world. I fear I am indulging
habits of sloth and luxury. In what am I denying myself? Read
twenty pages of Scott’s Life. Was rather astonished at his idea,
(expressed in the narrative after his conversion,) that even when a
Socinian, his prayers were ‘spiritual enough’ to find acceptance
with God. Can a prayer be listened to by God, which is presumptuously
offered up without any regard to the Mediator whom he has appointed? When
searching after the truth, Scott read none but religious books for three
years. Afterwards he returned to general reading, and even felt a pleasure
in perusing the classics, and other works of taste. I have read since I
came, four hundred pages of Godwin’s History of the Commonwealth. He
advocates the cause of the Puritans in their political conduct. He
dislikes the pompous and persecuting spirit of the prelacy. He seems to
like Presbyterianism worse, (as it then existed,) as having all the
intolerance of Episcopacy, without its splendor. And he gives unqualified
praise to the Independents of these times, as the great champions of
unrestrained liberty, civil and religious.
"6th.
With my pupil three hours in the forenoon. One hour walking, and one hour
bathing. This runs away with a great part of the day. I am much pleased
with my pupil at present. His disposition is amiable, and his faculties
acute. His desire for knowledge is very great. He has been amusing himself
to-night in making a universe with little balls of wax stuck upon
pins. I feel very thankful for a situation, in many respects, so agreeable
as the one I occupy. But I feel I am doing little actual service to the
cause of my Lord. Read thirty pages of Scott’s Life. His prayers for his
relations were eminently answered. I have felt this an encouragement to
greater fervency in prayer for those who are so dear to me according to
the flesh. And yet, the fact that I derive encouragement from this
instance of an answer to prayer, is a proof of the weakness of my faith on
the promises of God. If I sufficiently believed them, I should not need
particular instances of their fulfilment, to encourage me. Can anything be
surer than the promise of God? Finished the first volume of Godwin’s
Commonwealth. Very little conversation, and that exceedingly trifling and
general. What can I do, in my present circumstances, for the good of this
family? The Lord direct me! Read two chapters of the Greek Testament. Bed
at eleven o’clock.
"8th. Yesterday I
was so fatigued, that I wrote none in my journal; and to-night I have a
much better excuse for putting it off, in a very painful headache; but I
must cultivate habits of regularity, and write something, however short.
Yesterday, I completed my eighteenth year. Hitherto hath the Lord brought
me; and, in spite of much wickedness and ingratitude, he continues to
bless me. How little have I done! Hitherto I have made my youth an excuse
for much inactivity! Will this be an excuse at the bar of God? I have been
much troubled these some days, with abominably sinful thoughts. Lord,
cleanse thou me from secret faults; and O keep back thy servant from
presumptuous sins. Read part of Scott’s Life.— Much struck with his
remarks on practical preaching, and the unpopularity to which his own
system exposed him."
"TENNOCH
SIDE, NEAR GLASGOW.
"14th. Arrived here night
before last. — My journal was neglected yesterday, in consequence of my
papers being mislaid. — Left Dysart on Saturday morning, and arrived in
Leith a few hours after, where I stayed till Monday afternoon. — A very
unprofitable visit. — Some conversations with my kind and respected
friends, Mr. and Mrs. Alexander, I remember with pleasure, but scarcely
anything else of my friends, whom I had an opportunity of seeing. I feel
very comfortable here, and have much to make me thankful to the great
Father of our mercies. Although I am disappointed in one great object,
(attendance on classes in Glasgow), which I had in view on coming here,
yet I trust the Lord has directed me. May I be enabled, faithfully, to
fulfil the important duties of my station, and to devote every moment of
my time to the service of my God! —Read Shakspeare’s Midsummer Night’s
Dream. — Never read a whole play of this great poet before. Some
exquisitely fine passages; and, throughout, the whole admirably true to
nature. But how much that is revolting, even to a mind so partially
sanctified as mine! Can it be right in a Christian to travel over pages
filled with vain imaginations, swearing, and often gross obscenity, in
order to arrive at some beautiful passage, which, after all, can only
gratify or improve his taste? The pearls are indeed fine, and present a
great temptation; but, after all, they are not worth the diving for, or at
least, the ocean that covers them is too perilous to be needlessly
encountered by so feeble an adventurer as I. Read two chapters in the
Greek Testament. What a blessing that we have sublimer and purer joys than
those that are afforded by the bright, but transient flashes of
unsanctified wit, or the glare of a powerful, yet polluted imagination!
"Thursday.
— Rose at six — read one chapter of the Greek
Testament. I am engaged with my pupil four hours a day, viz. from seven to
eight, and from ten to eleven, A. M.; and from one to two, and from five
to six, P. M. My books are yet in Glasgow, and this has been an excuse for
idleness. Read another play of Shakspeare’s. More to disgusts and less to
gratify in this, than in the last. I cannot read these plays without being
injured by them. Wrote a letter to my dear Nesbit. Received one from my
dear father. Have sat a considerable time this evening trying to make
verses. Succeeded in manufacturing one stanza. I may say with the Rev.
Thomas Scott, ‘God has not made me a poet.’ And I hope I shall profit from
his observation, that he was thankful for never having attempted to make
himself one.
"I almost despair of being
able to introduce profitable conversation. How difficult to fix that
precise line of duty, which timorous indecision dares not approach, and
which rash, unthinking zeal is sure to overstep!"
"TENNOCH
SIDE, June 30, 1826.
"MY VERY DEAR CRAIK — This is
a solitary place. I am all alone. The sweets of friendship, and the joys
of Christian fellowship, are to me now associated with the remembrance of
the days that are gone. But yet, I am not alone; God is here. And should
duty ‘command me to the furthest verge of the green earth, to distant,
barbarous shores,’ He is there too. The ‘communion of the
saints,’ is, indeed, a delightful privilege; but what is it, when compared
with that far higher privilege, which change of circumstances cannot
affect; even that ‘fellowship which is with the Father, and with his Son,
Jesus Christ.’ Every shifting scene of life that passes before me,
convinces me more and more, that happiness has a very slight dependence on
our external circumstances. They may add to it, or diminish it; but they
can neither give it, nor take it away. Mere animal
gratification is enjoyed nearly equally by all classes; all are equally
subject to disease, and if the rich seem to enjoy more of the good things
of this life than others, they only seem to do so. Luxury has
deprived them of the comforts of life, and has converted its superfluities
into comfortless necessaries. Even intellectual happiness, I believe to be
more generally and equally diffused, than is commonly imagined. But the
truth is, there is no true happiness without the enjoyment of God’s
favour. How true is it, that ‘his favour is life;’ for without it,
life deserves not the name; it is but a living death. ‘Immo vero, ii
vivunt, qui ex corporum vinculis tanquam e carcere, evolaverunt; nostra
vero quae dicitur vita, mors est.’ We are more highly favoured than
the ancient philosopher who wrote these words. Even here we may have
glimpses of the celestial happiness. Eterna1 life is begun on
earth. It is true, we may not walk in the freedom of spiritual
enlargement, till we have put off these vile bodies; but even within their
prison-house there may be many an alleviation of our sufferings; we may be
freed from those fetters that galled us sore, and deprived us even of the
little freedom which the bounds of a prison-house might permit. We may be
gaining new victories over the devil, the world, and the flesh,
even while here. Let it be our earnest endeavour to maintain this holy
warfare within our breasts; and while we drink freely of the fountain of
life, let us not forget to present its vivifying waters to that world,
which is ‘dead in trespasses and sins.’
"I have been looking over what I
have written, and find it is not like a letter at all. But I need make no
apologies to you. I am here, nearly eight miles from Glasgow, and have
been there only twice. My pupil went there yesterday with the family; and,
as there was room for me in the carriage, I went in the morning, and
returned in the evening, Of course, I had not much time to see the town. I
looked into the area of the college; a fine old, substantial building.
Their library, which was the only room I went into, does not seem to be as
fine as ours. Ours! did I say? But you know what I mean. The
cathedral is a venerable building, though somewhat disfigured by modern
additions. The statue of our revered Knox stands on a neighbouring hill.
Glasgow is blessed with evangelical ministers in all denominations. There
is an institution I visited last night, with the plan of which I was very
much pleased. It is a sort of religious coffee-room. There is a large
hall, where about twenty different religious institutions hold their
meetings; and a reading room below, where the Reports and other periodical
publications, connected with all the religious societics of the day, are
to be found. A book lay on the table, for the insertion of hints, or
inquiries on any subject connected with the great interests of
Christianity. In this I found some remarks in the hand-writing of ‘our
excellent Chalmers.’ I have had an introduction to the nearest parish
minister; but have seen very little of him yet. He told me that his church
was much too small for the parish,— and that he believed the greater
number of his parishioners were growing up
like heathens."
"TENNOCH
SIDE, July 5, 1826.
"MY VERY DEAR FRIEND — I
begin to feel anxious to hear from some of you, although I believe the
agreement was, that I should write first. I am here as much shut out from
the world, at least, from what was the world to me, as I could be
in the deserts of Africa, or the islands of Japan. I write, chiefly to beg
you to send me a long letter, — it is all of friendship I can now enjoy.
You will not expect much from this wilderness. I have little to write
about that can interest you. But why should I say so, when there is a
theme, which is ever delightful to the mind of a Christian, and needs not
novelty to give it interest. Yes, we have a joy which the world knows not,
and which no changes in our earthly circumstances can at all impair. The
dearest earthly friends may be removed from us, but there is a ‘friend
that sticketh closer than a brother.’ Here I have no Christian friend; and
sometimes my spirits sink very low, when I think on other days. But these
are sinful thoughts. ‘The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed
be the name of the Lord.’ Perhaps some path of usefulness may be pointed
out to me; but at present, I see little probability of doing anything,
except with my pupil. I have been in Glasgow twice. I met Mr. Erskine
there, as well as Mr. Ewing, &c. All are against my being a missionary,
but I have heard no arguments against it that seem to me at all
conclusive. What is doing in Edinburgh? Have you any intercourse with the
few St. Andrian friends that are in the great city? Alas! for our little
circle. It is now sadly broken up, and we never shall form a little circle
again. One of our number is in the south of England, another in the north
of Scotland, and all scattered abroad. The fragments of the little
community are in Edinburgh. The ‘tria’ are there; but, alas! they
are no longer ‘juncta in uno.’ [He alludes to the St. Andrew’s
University Magazine, which had this motto.] But, I hope my
lamentations are groundless. Have you no combinations for plans of
usefulness either among yourselves, or of a more extensive nature?
Something was talked of when I was in Edinburgh. Has it been accomplished?
When do you go to Kirkliston? Let me hear particularly of your operations
there. There will be full scope for your most strenuos exertions. Can you
suggest to me any practicable scheme of usefulness? Do favour me with a
long letter."
Determined not to remain
idle, notwithstanding the obscurity and difficulty of his situation, after
very considerable exertion, he succeeded in collecting a number of young
men together, and for their benefit, prepared a very excellent address. As
it fully explains the nature of the meeting which he proposed, it may
suggest to some others the importance of making similar attempts, by which
great good might be effected. [See Appendix L.]
About this time he appears
to have laboured under severe mental depression. Of the cause of this no
doubt can now be entertained. It was, doubtless, symptomatic of the
insidious disease which was appointed by God to be the messenger of his
dismission. That it was cherished by the intense working of his mind, by
his seclusion from that kind of society which was congenial to his
feelings, and by anxiety respecting the accomplishment of his much desired
object, I feel equally assured. I think it right to give the following
extract from his journal, which will explain some of the allusions in his
letters.
"July 18th.
Rose at seven. Have suffered excessively to-day from mental depression,
and could assign no specific cause for it. I am half-inclined to ascribe
it to the immediate agency of Satan, or some of his emissaries. The Lord
has been graciously pleased to restore me to tranquillity; and I remember
the former part of the day as I would a terrific dream. I had the
opportunity of going in the carriage to Hamilton, and was in hopes that
the fresh breeze, and the laughing face of nature, would dispel the gloomy
darkness within my breast. But it was all in vain; the malady raged with
greater violence, so as almost to make me dread real madness, and to
recall to my mind a fearful night of distraction last winter. I have
besought the Lord earnestly that this might depart from me; and I believe
that I owe my present tranquillity to his gracious condescension in
listening to my prayers. I feel, what my pride likes ill to admit, that I
am a very feeble creature; weak, not only in body, but still weaker in
mind! Is this a fit character for a missionary? In this work I shall soon
fail, except the Lord strengthen me. But even I may say, ‘I can do
all things through Christ strengthening me.’ After all, I have
forced myself to go through nearly all my regular studies to-day.
"Friday.
— Have discovered much to-night of the cursed pride,
fickleness, and vanity of my heart. Did those who esteem me most, know me
as I do myself, they would abhor me. I do abhor myself. Spent half an hour
in prayer, in severe mental conflict. But even for this conviction of sin,
I will be thankful. It is well to know the worst, although I fear I do not
know the worst yet. ‘Who can understand his
errors?’
"I know the remedy; and,
blessed be God, despair has not yet barred the way to it, although I fear,
from the little effect my supposed application to the gospel has
yet produced, that I know not how to use the remedy. The Lord can teach
me. The workings of my mind have been severely painful for some days,
although in very different ways. Perhaps the Lord has given me over, like
his ancient servant, of whom I have been reading, to be tempted of Satan.
Has the Mediator ‘prayed for me, that my faith fail not?’ I will believe
that all this is for good. May it lead me to know my own utter weakness,
that so I may make the Lord my strength! Then I may say with Paul, ‘when I
am weak, then am I strong.’"
"TENNOCH
SIDE, July 17, 1826.
"My DEAR TRAIL — I
believe, in regard to Christian society, your circumstances very nearly
resemble my own: and if in these circumstances, you feel as keenly as I
sometimes do, I know that a letter from an old companion will not be
unacceptable, even though it contain ‘nothing new.’ Accept of my sincere
thanks for the notes of introduction you left for my friend and me. I was
sorry that my short stay in Edinburgh permitted me to pay but a very short
visit to Wellwood Lodge. A Polish missionary was staying there when I
called, with whom I conversed a little. I was prevented from accompanying
our friend, John Adam, on his missionary tour, in consequence of illness.
I believe he enjoyed it very much. I am now fairly settled, within eight
miles of Glasgow, removed from every Christian friend who might excite and
encourage me; and sometimes I acknowledge I feel very much depressed: but
the Lord is ever near. If I feel so faint-hearted here, I know not how I
shall endure the living solitude of a city of idolaters, or the extreme
dreariness of a savage desert. But, ‘through Christ strengthening me I can
do all things.’ What plane of usefulness have you set on foot, since I saw
you? Can you suggest anything to me, that I can accomplish here? Have you
any particular plans in instructing your pupils, which you can
communicate, for I feel myself quite a novice in the art of teaching; and
I am aware that there is no small responsibility connected with duties,
that have such an immense influence in forming a mind which is to exist
for ever; and which, in the remotest ages of its eternity, perhaps, is to
bear, in some respects, the form of that mould which was impressed on it
in the earliest years of its existence. Have you been thinking more of
missions? I find everybody dissuades and discourages me, urging the great
wants of our own country. I think I feel the claim of our own land as
strongly as some who urge them against my plans. But still this does not
prevent me from feeling the immense argumentative force of the simple
fact, that nothing has yet been done for heathen nations, proportional to
their vast extent; and nothing to fulfil the wide command of our Lord. I
have had two letters from Captain Felix, pressing on my attention the
state of Ireland. By this time, our dear friend Nesbit has applied to the
Scottish Missionary Society. I trust that more of our little circle will
follow his example. How unfortunate are the debates about the apocryphal
question! But why should I say unfortunate, as if they could happen
without the knowledge of the great Head of the Church.
"18th. I have been
reading the former part of my sheet which was written last night, and find
it is a very dull and careless scrawl. I wish I could send you something
better; but the fact is, I have been labouring under very uncommon mental
depression, which renders me unfit for doing anything as I could wish. I
have had a drive in the carriage to Hamilton to-day, and feel rather
better. I know you are never troubled with this sort of affliction, and
may be disposed to laugh at it; but I can assure you, it is ten-fold more
distressing than bodily disease. The latter often adds to spiritual
comfort; the former generally destroys it. But I am ashamed of having said
so much about my weaknesses; and assuredly I should not have adverted to
the subject, were it not as a plea for an early communication from you.
Send me something to cheer and console me. Direct me to the great objects
of eternity, and stir me up to do something in the cause of the Lord.
Although I am sometimes thus depressed, it is not always so. The Lord has
been very kind to me since I came here. I have been forced to seek
all my enjoyments in communion with God. It is well, when we hasten after
other lovers, that He, who will have our whole heart, should hedge up our
way. And when he leads us into the wilderness, and dries up many a
source of what seemed holy enjoyment, it is often not to punish,
but to bless us, to ‘speak comfortably’ to us. We do well, my friend, to
examine whether the Lord alone be the object of our affections. When
surrounded by pious friends, who are ready to praise, or, at least, to
esteem us for our zeal in furthering the interests of religion, it is
difficult to determine the nature of our motives. Those who went before
our Saviour in triumph to Jerusalem, crying Hosanna, &c., were probably
afterwards found consenting to his death; and even the boldest and most
devoted of his chosen few, ‘forsook him and fled.’ Are we ready to follow
the Lord through bad as well as through good report? Have we ever
yet been put to the trial? Have you read Samuel Rutherford’s letters? I
have been delighted and humbled by the perusal. How much of heaven may be
enjoyed on earth, if we will but care to seek for it. I feel that I know
nothing yet of Christ, or of fellowship with him. Write very soon to your
affectionate brother."
"TENNOCH SIDE, July
22, 1826.
"MY DEAR ANNE —Your
verses pleased me much; and with what else I have seen of your first
attempts at composition, lead me fondly to hope, that talents have been
bestowed on you, which, with due culture, and persevering application, may
render you, I will not say accomplished, for that is a vain thing,
as the term is generally used; but to use an apparently humbler, yet, in
reality, far more honourable term, talents that may render you useful.
I say not this to make you proud, but to humble you, and to encourage
you to persevere. You know very little yet, you have much to learn. I may
just hint, that in your letter, I can observe a deficiency in one of the
MOST REQUISITE of all literary acquisitions. You know what I mean.
But in the present case, the hurry in which your letter has evidently been
written, is a sufficient excuse. I like your verses. The idea in the
fourth verse, I think, is truly poetical. But I would not have you aim at
being a poetess, my sister. Make it an amusement if you will, or a means
of acquiring correctness and facility of expression, but do not make it
your AIM. The most brilliant acquirements are not the most useful.
Let me remind you, my dear Anne, that you and I are born to fill humble
stations in this world, (and God be thanked, it is so; the humblest are
the happiest.) Do not aim, then, at anything above your station. Do not
court the society of the rich and the gay; for, comparatively, I
may apply these terms even to the little sphere in which you move; but
choose your companions from those who have the true riches of knowledge,
and (if I may add a qualification you may not easily find) sterling
piety. The manners of your companions should not be overlooked;
and, by this expression, I do not so much mean the knowledge, or ready
repetition of a few kind-looking phrases, which even the most
unkind can learn, as that amiable and obliging disposition, which is
the politeness of the heart. In the present state of society, however, a
person who wishes to be truly agreeable, will see the necessity of
attending to a few of those forms of kindness which pass current in
the world. I did not mean to write so many advices; but now that I have
begun, I will plead the authority, I will rather say, the affection of a
brother, as an excuse for adding some more. Let me entreat you to
cultivate domestic virtues. The Bible bids us not only love and
obey, but also honour our parents. Be particularly careful to
remember this, especially in regard to our dear mother, to whom your
little services may now render considerable assistance. Above all, my very
dear sister, let me entreat you to remember that we were not made merely
to figure for a little on the stage of this passing world. This life is
but the infancy of an eternal existence; and yet, here the choice must be
made, that shall render all that is worth calling the life of an immortal
creature, perfectly happy, or perfectly wretched. You think
you know the truths of the gospel, my sister. Do you feel its influence?
Do not be even too sure that you understand the message of glad tidings in
the Bible. Many who now think they understand, will find hereafter that
they have mistaken its meaning. But, O do remember! it is not enough to
understand. Examine whether Christ, and his atonement alone, be all
your salvation. It is easy to mistake. We are never more apt to
sleep the sleep of a security, from which eternal death alone will awake
us, than when guarded from gross temptations by protecting friends,
accustomed from infancy to correct, or at least, seemingly correct
views of the gospel. My dear sister, as you value your happiness, beware
of a misplaced hope of heaven. I do not cease to pray that the Lord would
make you his own. I should think my prayers in part answered, did I know
that you had been constrained to pray with earnestness for
yourself."
"August 2, 1826.
"MY VERY DEAR BROTHER — They say
there is more pleasure in hope, than in actual enjoyment; and, perhaps,
this is the reason why I have not written to you sooner. You know I used
to have a great aversion to letter writing; but now that it is almost the
only kind of Christian intercourse that is left me, you may guess that I
regard it with very different feelings. For a week past I have been
cheering my solitary hours with the thought, that I was just about to
unbosom freely all my feelings to my dear John Adam, (a luxury, which is
not the least precious privilege of true friendship), and day after day,
some little trifle has seemed a sufficient reason for putting off; while I
believed the true cause of the delay has been, the desire to indulge this
pleasing expectation a little longer. And now that I have sat down to
write, I frankly acknowledge that I have little or nothing to say, — at
least, in the shape of news. I left Dysart too late to see you again in
Edinburgh, whence I proceeded to this place of exile, where I have now
counted five or six tardy weeks of unvaried sameness, excepting one or two
visits to Glasgow and an occasional walk to Old Monkland Manse. You know
me too well to require me to tell you how I feel, without a single
Christian friend near. The harp has been often out of tune; and sometimes,
I have feared that its strings were about to break, when the Lord has
again tuned it to his own praise. Yes, my dear friend, I have seen much of
the deceitfulness of my own heart since I came here. I thought I could
leave all, and live happy in a solitary desert, for the sake of Christ.
But I find that much of my happiness was drawn from cisterns, and not from
the life-giving fountain. And now that the Lord has, in mercy, broken
these, to lead me to himself, I have been ready to weep as if my all were
lost. I fear I have mistaken love to Christians for love to Christ. I feel
more reconciled to this banishment, when I think that it may be intended
to wean me from earth, and to fit me more for the missionary life. I have
hopes that I may be honoured to be useful to my dear pupil. He is a most
interesting boy; in our daily reading of the Scriptures, he makes
inquiries which delight me, and sometimes astonish me. All things are
possible with God.
" Monday evening —
The above was written on Saturday night, and your welcome epistle was put
into my hand yesterday morning. Your serious charges of carelessness might
require to be more seriously met, than in the above nondescript rhapsody,
which you see had anticipated them; but too much of my sheet is now
filled, to leave any space for apologies. I leave you to make them for me.
I am rejoiced at your intention of sending a paper on missions to the
Evangelical Magazine. It has a most extensive circulation. My conscience
has been sorely reproaching me for my negligence on this subject. I have
been partly terrified out of the idea of attempting publication, from the
decided opposition our sentiments on this subject have met with, when I
have laid them before those, whom I have, from infancy, looked up to as
men mighty in the Scriptures. Do not mistake me; my own convictions are by
no means weakened. Every prayer deepens their impression. And at times of
closer communion with God, a brighter light seems to be shed on the path
before me. My own conscience must be my guide; but I have discovered so
much of my own fickleness, and weakness of mind, that I do fear to propose
my sentiments as rules of conduct to others. ‘Instead of being a teacher,
I have need that one teach me what are the first principles of the oracles
of Christ.’ I have only begun to discover my real character; and I
honestly believe, that did any of my friends know me as I know myself,
they would be utterly disgusted with me, and scarcely believe me a
Christian. But what has this to do with the subject? — Much. When I think
of myself, a poor weak-minded boy, the creature of emotion, and almost the
slave of circumstances, entertaining opinions different from all my
friends in Christ, however strongly they are impressed on my own mind, I
have great misgivings when I think of presenting them to others. I am glad
to have one, at least, who agrees with me. Our comparison of the
present generation in our land, to the Jews in the days of the apostles,
is very much disliked. The supposition, that we are called to imitate the
apostles in going to the Gentiles, Mr. E; thinks quite enthusiastic.
I like your plan much. It is very comprehensive. I hope it will be
admitted, but I hardly expect it. I have no Christian
friends here; but it is all well. I am forced to seek closer
communion with God. Yes, forced. How just is your idea of the refuge.
I have been, at times, apt to murmur at being sent here; but I am sure
it is for good. I have seen practically illustrated, that man, at his best
estate, is altogether vanity. I have seen more of the wickedness of my own
heart; but more too of the preciousness and sufficiency of the Saviour. My
studies have all a bearing on the Bible; and, I think, I study as much
here as ever I have done any where." |