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Les diagrammes suivants ilfustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 MEMOIK Of NORMAN MACLEOD, D.D MTNISTEB OF BAEONY PARISH, GLASGOW; ONE OF HER KAJESTY's CHAPLAINS; DEAN OF THE CHAPEL ROYAL; DEAN OF THE MOST ANCIENT AND MOST NOBLE ORDER O*" THE THISTLE. BV HIS BROTHER THE REV. DONALD MACLEOD, b.A., OKB OP MR majesty's CHAPLAINS, ID'^OR OF " "OOB WORM," KC TOROUTO- BELFOHD BROTHERS. U rOI.HORNF .STREET. 1877. 198240 Entered according to the Act of Parliament of Canada, m the year one thousand eight hundred and teventy-m:, by Belfobd Beothers, in the Office of the. Minister of Agriculture. -u ^ \ ii * TO HIS MOTHER, wow IN HER NINETY-FIRST YEAR, as AWaOTIONATB REMBMBRANOE OF ALL THAT HER OHItDRBN AND HER children's CHILDRBN 0W» TO H£R INFLUfiNOB. I I 1 PREFACE TTTHEN asked, two years ago, to compile a Memoir of my brother, I T T did not accept the task without considerable hesitation. Besides the charge of a city parish, heavy responsibilities of another nature had devolved upon me, so that it seemed impossible to undertake additional labour. I felt also that, in some respects, a near relative was not well qualified to fill satisfactorily the office of biographer. These objections were, however, overruled by friends on whose judgment I relied. If affection should have rendered it difficult to be always impartial, I may be allowed, on the other hand, to derive some comfort from the reHec- tion that a life-long intercourse, as frank and confidential as could exist between two brothers, gave me opportunities for knowing his thoughts and opinions, which few others, and certainly no stranger, could have possessed. Dr. Macleod was a man whom it is almost impossible to portray. His power was in many ways inseparable from his presence. The sympathy, the humour, the tenderness depended so much for their full expression on look, voice, and manner, that all who knew him will recognise the necessary inadequacy of verbal description. " Quantum mutatus ab illo" must more especially be the verdict upon any attempt to record instances of his wit or pathos. I must, however, claim for this biography the merit of truthfulness. In whatever respects it may fail, it cannot, I think, be charged with conscious concealment or exaggeration of fact or sentiment. Faults of another kind will, I trust, be forgiven for the sake of the great reverence and love I bore him. I beg gratefully to acknowledge the aid rendered by many friends. The pages of the Memoir indicate that my obligations to Principal Shairp, Dr. Watson, and my brother-in-law. Dr. Clerk, have been great; but there were many others to whom I am indebted for much assistance, and to whom I ttfudei' my best thanks. Among these I may mention the Dean of West- PREFACE. "in*r, M,, Service, J. A. Cam,,bell, a„ LLD A, „ , A. B. McOrigor, Es,.,„nd D,-. W C Lith" I I ''""■ ^=''■' No^an M.W, ^ her « ad^ld ;: JT? ""' '"'* ""^ W hu,Ws pape«, ,ave ™ bvaluar.ehX "™"'°""' °' been lost d„™, « 1 Vel" ^t" "■"'°«^' "»' ^ -""^e ti„e ha. Now thnt if , " ""S'Sed in writing it, «e, i., in ,ite 0. it^'iT 1::; :,:r " "^-^ -*'- »ot ..now Norman MacIeoZ someTenr howe 7 '" *°" "''° *" Of .is goodne. of hi. rich ^.^^^^^T' 1 '"^ ''°'"" devotion. ^' ciuidhke faith, catliolicitj. and 1, Woodlands Terbace, GLAsuour, Jnnuar^^ 1874, f if P, Esq., at Mra, neat of >ok has me has I of its grati- ho did depth r> and CONTENTS: 845 IN OHAF. I. — PARENTAGE ir. — BOYHOOD . • • • III. — EARLY COLLEGE DAYS IV. — WEIMAR . v.— APRIL, 1835— NOVEMBER, 1836 VI.— 1836— 7 . • • • VII.— EARLY MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN . VIII. — THE DISRUPTION CONTROVERSY IX.— DALKEITH, DECEMBER, 1843— JUNE, X. — 1845. — NORTH AM3RICA XI.— EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE, AND TOUR AND SILESIA XII.— LAST YEARS AT DALKEITH. — 1848—1851 XIII.— 1851— 1856 XIV.— 1857— 1859 XV.— 1860— 61 xv'i.— 1862— 63 XVII.— 1864— 65 XVIII. —SABBATH CONTROVERSY XIX. — SOME CHARACTERISTICS XX. — INDIA . XXI.— 1868 XXII.— MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE, 1869— xxiiL— 1871— 72 XXIV. — HIS DEATH XXV.— THE FUNERAL APPENDIX PRUSSIAN 70 POLAND 17 24 31 42 63 67 83 116 139 152 164 177 212 245 256 281 305 323 338 356 379 389 412 432 447 451 CHAPTER I. PARENTAGE. AT the end of last century there wpfp fw« f -v opposite shores of the Sound oTMi!r- T^^'n'"'^^^"^ ^^ houses fronting one another across the blue^fr^lf'^^F"'^^^^' ^^^^' the Atlantic. Prom the windows of thp M ^ * ^^^^i^ ™^^ ^^ ^om mini.ster of Morven, on the maSnd tl^f^' '^ ¥^- ^^^^^^d, the the ul.l castle of Aros, in thSnS of S f '''''• '^'/''^ '^^°« ^^ eminence over the Bay of SaC VJhT^ I ^^^^^^^g ^om its rocky house of Mr. Maxwell^le chambelL ofl). T.T'^ th^ "tacksman"* of Aro^ Twf ., . *^® ^^^e of ArffvU anrl mother of Kormin MSeorrreiren '^^^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^'^^ and This memoir must begin with a sketrW f ¥ T ^fPP>^ 3^°^*^. early life of that youthfSl no^r fl ^ ^^^'^ families, and of the more permanent hVd thaiCNorman mT r? ^^f ^^^^ influences a last, m some of the most consScuZ feah lo^^' . T^^'""^ ^'^ ^^' ^^ «>« be easily traced to tJie earlv is.nP^-of7n i, f ^^ ^"' character, could and Mull. The Hi<^hhS of t^ ? ''^''^' ^^"^^^^^^ round Morven haled in his childh od tt arom o? t7'J' 'r^'' ''''''' ^^^^ ^eT both lather and mother sfmucTof its hpnllf'' ^"'f'."°^ ^^^^^^^ from abo. h. l.e, to thelast mon^^t:^^^;;^^^^ ^ nently unprofitable. It wiUb^Tuffi. if .'"?''' ramifications, emt me a family " tree,''--sucras used o b o '" ''"'^ ^^'^* ^ ^^^^e before m which are the names o?the Ca^^nrnrV^^' Highlands- I;?chiel ; of the Campbells of EnsavTd " • ^Lfu'^^'TV' '''^"^^ ^f of Crear; of the MacNeik nf ru -^ f- ■ ^^^^ell ; of the MacNeils Duntroon^names St 1 ]fn^^^^^^^^^^ -"^ of the Campbelirof now, alas! in some instance X Lndtl^^^^^ '°^^'^"^' ^^^'^^^^^ stones. ''''V louna there on moss-grown tomb 18 LIF£! OF NORMAN MACLEOD. lived Donald Macleod, the tacksman of SwordaV who married Anne Campbell, a sister of Campbell of Glensaddell. ' lie was the great grand-fathpr of Norman, who used to repeat with grateful memory the traaitionof "Swordaie, haviiig been a good man, and the first iu his neighbourhood to mtroduce regular family worship." The eldest son ot this good man, and the grandfather of the subject of this memoir was called Normau. Ha v as educated for the Church, and in the year 1774 was ordained minister of the parish of Morven, in Irfryll- shire, that "Highland Parish" so affectionately described in'' the "Reminiscences." The house of Fiunary, as the Manse was called has given place to a better and more ornam ental dwelling. Pleasant woods now cover the green bank beside the bright burn where stood the square house of orthodox ^lanse architecture— a porch in the ^,entre and a wmg at each end— and where grew up the happiest of families in the most lovmg of homes. Norman thus describes Morven :— " A lon^ ndpre of hUl, rising some two thousand feet above the sea, its uwwu sides, up to a certain height, chequered with green strips and patches of cultivation, brown heather, thatched cottages, with white walls • here and there b mansion, whose chimneys are seen above the tree^ which shelter It i— these are the chief fe&tuies along its sea-board of many miles. But how different is the whole scene when one lands! New beauties reveal themselves, and every object seems to chango its size, ao- peara...ce, and relative position. A rocky wall of wondrous beauty,' the rampart of the old upraised beach which giidles Scotland, runs along the s.oi^ ; the natural wildwood of ash, oak, and bu-ch, with the hazel-copse, clothes the lower hills, and shelters the herds of wandermg cattle : lonely sequestered bays are everywhere scooped out into bf.iutiful harbours • points and promontories seem to grow out of tlio land ; and huge dykes of whmstone fashion to themselves the most picturesque outlines; clear streams every -vhere hasten on to thu sea; small glens, pe %ct gems of beauty, open up entrances into deep dark pools, hemmed in bv iteep banks flanging with rowan-trees, ivy, honeysuckle, and ferns ; whiJe on the hill! sides scattered cottages, small farms, and shepherds' huts the signs of cul- ture and mdustry, give life to the whole scene." ' This mmister of Morven was in many wayr, a remarkable man Noble-looking and eloquent, a good scholar, and true pastor, he lived as a patriarch among his people. He had a amaU stipend, and. as its usual concomitant, a large family. Sixteen children were born in the Manse, and a rumoer of familics-a s.iephcrd, a boatman, a plou-h- riau,— were i^ettled on the glebe with others who had come there^in their need, and were not turned away. Never was a simpler or more loving household The minister delighted to make all around him happy His piety w,i8 earnest, healthy and genial. If the boys lu.d their classics and the girls thetr needlework, there was no gruding of thcr enjoyments The open seas and hills, boats and dogs, shepherds \;7i.T'^""i ' i" r," ='^'""^ "■": ^;"'Ki"3 nili, rne WHteiiail roaiinj? .n the dark gorge, had lessons as f uU of meaning for their after-life as PARENTAGE. 19 any that books could impart. The boys were trained from childhood to be manly, and many an hour taken from study was devoted to education of another kind-hunting otters or badgers in their dens with terriers whose qualities were discussed in every cottape on the glebe ; shooting grouse, and stalkiig the wary black-cock (fo? no game laws were then enforced m Morven); fishing through the summer nights ; or sailing out m the " Sound " with old Eory the boTman when the wind was high, and the Roe had to struggle close haild against the cross-sea and angry tide. In the wintei- Svenings old and young gathered round the fireside, where songs and laughter minS with graver occupations and not unfrequently the minister would tune his violm, and striking up some swinging reel or blythe strathspey, would call on the lads to lay aside thetr books, and the girls their sewing, and set them to dance with a will to his own hearty music. Family worship, generally conducted in GaeHc, for the sake of such servants as knew little English, ended the day Normans grandmother was one of the tenderest and wisest of min- soers wives. The unconscious centre of the every-day life of the household, her husband and clrlldren leaned on her at aU timef bu? especially in times of sickness or sorrow; for if there wereXVs of joy, there were also many days, not the less blessed, of great sadness in m\'nv' wlr^%V"' ^'^^f * ^*"'' \^% ^" ^^°^^^" ™ remarkable m many ways The country was closely inhabited by an intensely Highland people. The lulls and retired glens, wliere now are speX tral gabies of roonoss houses, or green mounds concealin7od home steads, watched by some ancient tree standing like a solitary mourner "TI,o flocks of the stranger tho long glens are roamin', Th>. w«o crofts run wild wi' tho bracken aiul heather. ^ ' And the gables stand ruinous, bare to the weather " ''^lrnriW^^Ei''''"fr.' hi Morven who had been out with lonnie irnce ( hnrJie. and tho chivahy of the younrrer conerition sinv r n d 1 n'"^' '!'?'' "'«'»«"«es as these Norman's father grow 1 1, and became tlioroughly imbued with tlicir snirif- llule ^"^ TT ork ut ifuit sacred niihistry to which of thc'SjiX'ir"" "*"'''''• ''•^•' *'""'^'«'' '' «*• Columba, Glasgow. anU Dean 20 LIFE OF NORMAN- MAVLEOD. IH! his life was devoted a broad and healthy human sympathy, and to his latest day seemed to breathe the air imbibed in his youth on the hills of Morveu.* As the incidents of his life were closely intertwined with those of his son, nothmg need here be said of his public career. He was a remarkably handsome man, with a broad forehead, an open counte- nance fuU of benevolence, and hair which, from an early age, was snowy white. His voice was rich, and of winning sweetness, and when addressing a public audience, whether speaking to his own flock in the name of Christ, or pleading with strangers on behalf of his beloved HighLnds, few could resist the persuasive tenderness of his appeals. He was in many ways the prototype of Norman. His tact and common sense were as remarkable as his pathos and humour He left the discipline of the children almost entirely to their mother She was their wise and loving instructor at home, and their constant correspondent in later life ; while he rejoiced in sharing their com- panionship, entering into their fun, and obtaining the frankest confi- dence of affection. He seldom, if ever, lectured them formally on religious subjects, but spread around him a cheerful, kindly, and truly religious atmosphere, which they unconsciously imbibed. " Were I asked what there was in my father's teaching and training which did us all so much good," Norman wrote at the time of his father's death, 1 would say, both in regard to him and my beloved mother,-— that it was love and truth. They were both so real and human ; no cra7iks, twists, crotchets, isms or systems of any kind, but loving, sympathizing —giving a genuine blowing-up when it was needed, but passing by trifles, failures, infirmities, without making a fuss. The liberty they gave was as wise as the restraints they imposed. Their home was happy— intensely happy Christianity was a thing taken for granted, not forced with scowl and frown. I never heard my father speak of Calvinism, Arminianism, Presbyterianism or Episcopacy, or ex- aggerate doctrinal differerces in my life. 1 had to study 'all tliese questions after I left home. I thank God for his free, loving, sympathising and honest heart. He raiglit have made me a slave to any ' ism.' He left me free to love Christ and Christians." The ancestor of Mr. Maxwell, Norman's materiiid grandfather was a relugee, who, in the time of the "troubles," under Claverhouse, luid fled to Kintyro. Ho was -iccording to tradition, a younger son of tlie Maxwells of Newark, and once lay concealed for several weeks in the woods of Saddell, until, being ]juisued, he escaped to tlio soutli end of the peninsula ; again diicovcrcd, and liotly chased, ho rushed into a house where the hirnier was carding wool. Immediately appreliending the cause of this sudden intrusion, the man quickly gave tbe fu"itivo his own apron and the " canls," so tiiat wJien the soldiers looked into the kitchen, they passed on without susjjectino- the industrioiiH vouili who aat "combing the fleece" by the peat heartli. Thisyuung Maxwell ' See Ai>[)eudix A, PARENTAGE. 21 settled afterwards in the neighbourhood, and his descendants, removing to the hail-lowland town of Campbeltown, made good mairiat^es and prospered in the world. Mr. Maxwell, of Aros, had been educated as a lawyer, and became Sheriff Substitute of his native district ; but re- ceiving the appointment of Chamberlain to the Duke of Argyll he settled in Mull, to take charge of the large ducal estates in that island He was an excellent scholar, and full of kindly humour. If the grandfather at Morven valued Gaelic poetry, no less did the other take delight in the ancient Border ballads of the Low Country and in the songs of Burns, and read with keen interest the contemporary literature of an age which culminated in Writer Scott. He drew a marked distinction between "office hours" and the time for amusement Strict and punctual in his own habits, he attended carefully to the work of the tutor, and the studies of his family ; but, when lessons were over, he entered with a young heart into their enjoyments In summer the house was continually filled with guests— travellers on their way to Staff"a, with letters of introduction from the South and remaining sometimes for days beneath the hospitable roof. Many of these were persons whose names are famous, such as Sheridan Peel and Sir Walter Scott. Such society added greatly to the brightness of the household, and shed a beneficial influence over the after-life of the children. Agnes Maxwell, Norman's mother, was brought up with her uncle and aunt MacNeil at Drumdrissaig, on the western coast of Knapdale until she was twelve years of age. She there passed her early youth' surrounded by old but wise and sympathetic people; and, being left much to the companionship of nature, wandering by herself alon^ the glorious shore which looks across to islands washed by the Atlantic surt, her mind, naturally receptive of poetic impressions, awoke to the sense of the beautiful m outward things. She not only "rew up a deeply aff^ectionate girl, but she also learned to feel and think for lier- h " •Idl'" ^^j!^J^^^^^ Sive a vivid picture of the healthy training of " My Aunt Mary was a woman of strong sense and judgment, very ac- complished and cheerful, and while most exacting as to obedience and good conduct, was exceedingly loving to mo while I was with her. She gave me all my instruction, religious and secular ; and used in the evenings to take her guitar and hum over to .no old Scotch songs and ballads, till I not only picked up a great number, l)ut acquired a taste for them which I have never lost. From the windows there was a charming view of the hills of Jura and oHJie son. and I still nu-all the delight with which I used to watch the splendid sunst'ts over the distant point of Islay. I never knew what it was to miss a comi)anion ; for it is extraordinary what a variety of amusements and manifold resources children find out for themselves. I ffiar thi.r, «nme oi tiu, hue young ladies of tlie present day, attended by their nursery-maids, won (Hiave thought me a dcMni-savage, had they seen 'me helping tLe dairy! nmid to bring ni the cows, or standing in a burn fishing for eels under the 22 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. stones, climbing rook,, or running a madcap race against the wind. Our next neighbour was a Captain Maclachan, who had a flock of goats, and of all delightful things the best was to be allowed to go with Jeanie, the goat- lassie, to call them from the hills, and see them milked." ^ Her picture of the habits of the people at that time is curious and interesting: — " There was none of the ceremony and formality among neighbours that exist now ; visitors came without any previous notice, nor did their arrival make much alteration in the arrangements of the house. Neither Christmas nor New- Year's Day was allowed to pass without due observance. Invita- tions were issued to all the neighbouring families; old John Shaw the 'Fiddler' was summoned from Castle Sweyn to assist at the festivities; and I remember the amusement I had at seeing my old uncle, who did not in the least care for dancing, toiling with all his might at reels and country dances, until the ball was ended by the ' Country Bumpkin.' On Twelfth- Day a great ' shinty ' match was held on one of the fields, when perhaps two hundred hearty young and middle-aged men assembled to the music of the bagpipes, and played the match of the year with a fury which only the presence of the ' laird ' prevented sometimes from passing into more sei : us combat. The ' shinty' was always followed by a servants' ball, when it was not uncommon for the country lasses to dress in coloured petticoats, green being the favourite hue, and in a nice white calico ' bed-gown.' confined at the waist. Their hair, falling over their shoulders, was held back by along comb, - , hich was usually the gift of a young man to his sweetheart. 1 never understood that there was intoxication at these festivities, for, indeed, the people of the district were very regular in their habits, so that I cannot recollect more than two persons noted for being addicted to excess. There was only one woman in the neighbourhood who took tea, and the fact being considered a piece of disgraceful extravagance, was whispered about with much more sense of shame than would now be caused by the drinking of whiskey. The parish clergyman was a frail old man, who preached very seldom, and, when doing so, wore a white cotton night-cap. I remember his once putting his hand on my head and blessing me, as he came down from li ) pulpit. There was not a seat in the whole church except the family pews of the heritors and minister. Some of the people supported themselves on the communion table, which ran from end to end of the build- ing, while others brought in a stone or a turf, on which they ensconced themselves. And yet, in spite of this extraordinary absence of religious instruction and of pastoral supeiintendence, the ijcople were moral and sober. " I well recollect my aunt weeping bitterly aa she nmd aloud to us tlie account of the execution of Louis XVI., while I sat on a stool at her feet and had it explained to mo. Then came the raising of the volunteers, the playing of pip(>s in the remotest glen, and the drilHng of rccniits in tlie peri)etual ' goose-stop.' My uncle was made a captain, and, to my intense amuBoment, I managed regularly to hide myself in the barn to watt^li the old gentleman being put through his exercise by the sergeant. A tit of UnCOntri^llilblH Innnrlitor nf. Iqaf liotri«'ofl rr>" liirl--T-~ t-' " _j — .n-.i. i!,.i.i,t.j,.t{ [j,^ iUin.iny-piai;r;. When she rotumod to Aros, alter the usual " fiuishins" of aii lidin- PARENTAGE. 23 goat- burgh school, her home became doubly sweet to her by the merriment of a household of brothers and sisters, the tenderness of a mother who loved every living thing, and, above all, by the companionship of her father, who delighted in her sweet rendering of his favourite Scotch music, and shared with her all his own stores of old romance. All this tended to form that character which, ripening into purest Chris- tian life, has been as a living gospel to her children and her children's children. I have dwelt thus at length on the early days of these parents, not merely from the natural desire to speak of those we love, but because almost every page of this memoir, down to its latest, will bear witness to how much Norman owed to that father and mother. CHAPTER IL BOYHOOD. ■\TOEMAN was born at Campbeltown on June 3 1812 His fatb», rf that ti'Zistrdtar ^^™ P'^!J°"''y *» the palrar/h gl Sr LatThetS sti4°Ttl.e7Ct1c1riH ""■ ""^"^^ -roenla cl„Tr'nr7 ";'"='' 'i^ *■■'* "f ^"y °""=-- S<=oteli seaport buried i/wZs and ahrubtries. "TheTaTof S'aZbif "'^^'^ l"'*' over, both picturesque and lively. StuSlldStte"™ IL^'Zf r^rl fifif ■ At 1 ' continual movement on its waters-the flaDDin- and filling of tlie brown sails, the shouts of the men and the " vSf r " of the Cham-cable as an anchor is dropped, keerthe por consT^t v a^tir Larger vessels are also perpetually cominrr and^roin- str n stayed merchant ships, smaller cr^ft enrrn-ed h7coa tf X'T, r i yadjtsandRevenuecruisers. Fourorfivf?;^ of the low isthmus which crosses Kintyre from the head of rn mhpl lour 'ft.lT.T'" '^^' ^" marked'contrast to tKhe terTha t fTc 1 ^.^t ^^^ ^°"« "'^''^^"^ «f Machrihanish, girdled by samls w ul tossed into fan astic hiUocks, receives the full Wei^d rof the A la tt Woe to the luckless vessel caught within those refentll ifws ' Fven in calm tiiere IS u weird suggestiveness in thP .eande '"'Zanii?^^ BOYHOOD. 25' that surf, like the breathing of a wild beast, and in that line of tawny yellow rimmed by creaming foam, and broken with the black ribs of some old wreck sticking up here and there from the shallows. But during storm, earth, sea, and sky are mingled in a driving cloud of salt, spin-drift, and sand, and the prolonged roar of the surge is carried far inland. Wlien the noise of "the bay" is heard by the comfortable burgesses, booming over their town like a distant cannonade, they are reminded how wild the night is far out on the ocean. To be "roaring like the bay" is their strongest description of a bawling child or a shouting scold. As the Highlands gave Norman his strong Celtic passion, so Camp- beltown inspired him with sympathy for the sea and sailors, besides creating a world of associations which never left him. It was a cu- rious nttle town, and had a wonderful variety of character in its society and customs. No fewer than seven large Eevenue cruisers had their headquarters at Campbeltown, and were commanded by naval officers who, in the good old days, received a pay which would startle modern economists. These cutters were powerful vessels, generally manned by a double crew, and each having a smaller craft acting as tender Nor were they without occupation, for smuggling was then a trade made not a little profitable by the high duties imposed on salt, spirits, and tea.* The officers and men of the cutters made Campbeltown their home, and villas, generally built opposite the buoy which marked the anchor- age of their respective cruisers, were occupied by the families of the different commanders. The element thus introduced into the society of the town had many important effects. It not only gave cheerful- ness to its tone, but added a certain savour of the sea to its interests. The merits of each cutter and officer were matters with which every man and woman — but more especially every schoolboy — was familiar, and how old Jack FuUarton had " carried on " till all seemed going by the board, on a coast bristling with sunken rocks ; or how Captain Beatson had been caught off the Mull in the great January gale, and with what skill he had weathered the wild headland — were questions which every inhabitant, old and young, had repeatedly discussed. Campbeltown was the headquarters of other sorts and conditions both of men and women. There were retired half-pay officers of both the services ; officers of his Majesty's Excise appointed to watch the distilleries, among wliom were such magnates as the collector and supervisor ; there was the old sheriff with his queue and top-boots ; the duke's chamberlain, and the usual proportion of doctors, writers, *Many stories are told of those smugEtling diya. Once an old woman, whose " habit and repute " were notorious, was being tried by the Sheriff. When the charge had been fairly proved, and it fell to the good lawyer to pronounce sentence, an unusual admixture of mercy with fidgetiness seemed to possess him, for, evading tlie manifest conclusion, he thus addiessed the itrisoner — " I (larosay. my imor wom.au. it's nut very often vqu have fallen into this fault."—" Deed no, shirra," she readily replied, " I haeua made a drap since yon wee keg I sent yoursel." 26 LIFE OF NOBMAN MACLEOD. and bankers. There were, m-ieove ■, those without whom all the teas and suppers, and society of the town would have been tlavourless- the elderly maiden ladies, who found that their " annuities "could not tLT 1 .'^ ^ '^'''™' °'' ^^^^'^ ^°"Senial spot than this kindly seaport These ladies were aunts or cousins to half the lairds in ArayllsMre and were of en great characters. A society Hke this, throwXiethe; m a town utterly unconnected with the rest of the world excent bva "t^i^' 7Y'^ ^'?f '' ''^-"'^ «°^"^ '^'y ^il«« before reacS Ly settement larger than a "clachan," and by a sailing packet whose iutter will^iif '^'^ desire a passage, know that the Galedoml cutter will sail ; was sure to be self-supporting in all the neces- rm'ZmenS T"^f Jt '''^"^-''~^-y^" anS'maide'n mL 1^ amusements. So-called tea-parties, followed by comfortable suiinerc eXenpdTT'? ''™^ '' entertainment ; and^hese tu^sTe S enlivened by backgammon and whist for the older folks and a dance Z.^T''''^''' T' "°.' ^^'^^°^^ '^'^ i-»««««t exciteLnts. Seme! or sHl W ^^' ?'" '"'^ ^ f"P^''^"' ^^^^^^ ^« ^ ^°"nty or militia Ml ; the bL f I? r^'"" ''^'' sloop-of-war ran in to refitf the resources o the hospitable town were cheerfully expended in giving a grand picnic eveSng. ''''' ^"^"'"'^ ^^ '^' ^^^^^^°^ dance and%upperirthe «nPf ecclesiastix^al relationships of the place were not less primitive " erantlio^r"^ 7' T^ ^T''^ congregation. He was decidedly kinSe 1 «n fr^/„fr°°\^llnf rowness, and had a word of cheerful fnwri ^l ^^ '®^*' ^''^ P^^'*^ies loved him, and his fellow ^uZ Th ''''%'^' ^ore disposed to listen to his earnest appealsi^ own fln^v w T^^ "^'"^^ ^^ '"^ ^'"' '^^y «««"r« ^he attachment of his and « bpH 1- ^^^", ^V"^"" °''''^''" ^^^ ^^^ ^«ked to accept another Sned w fb /™^' ^' ^''f '^^^"^ congregation of the place heartily iZl f? JlJu '^ "'?'''« ^P ^'^ ""^'y «'^all stipend to a sum was LnJ^ V Y^ ^/'^ f'''^ ^? ^^"^- T^« ^«'"'^^ Catholic priest 7ZTT^ 'l'T^'\ Few weeks ever passed without old Mr Cat- itlnnV^'^'"?,^' *^^'' ^'^ ^"^.^^ ^^^'^"^«' ^"^^ i^ ^11 his little difficulties lie looked to the young parish minister for advice. TJiese HiL^hland S 'tT "^"'^ ^^"''n"^ ™'^ ^"'°«^ ^h'^^^ ^°^ f^""«I^cd by^^ay- ratt; fi ^^^Tnf ^ ""'T"^ ^t^^^'^^^^ ^" France, and imbibing Galhcan I?^n<, i ? .^^^^^^^r^'^r '^?'' ^'^^^ themselves to be Briton., not aliens and identified themselves with the interests of the people around them. Nor was the friendly relationship which exisK bar„pbeltown an exceptional instance of good-feeling : for whenever the priest of the district went to that part of the parish in Morven which was near the Manse, he made it his home, and I am not aware that any evil ever accrued to religion in consequennP The house where Norman Macleod was born was in the Kirk Street BOYHOOD. 27 1 the teas, '■ourless — could not y SBcaport, 'gyllsliire, 1 together cept by a hing any et, whose following 'Caledonia lie neces- included suppers, ns being a dance Scme- tia ball; )urces of id picnic r in the rimitive he soon ecidedly cheerful 3 fellow peals in ! was in t of his another heartily a sum 5 priest [r. Cat- iculties gliland May. allican IS, not people ted in 3nevor [orven aware Street, but the family afterwards lived in the old Manse, and finally in South- park. He seems from childhood to hav3 had many of the character- istics which distinguished him through life — being affectionate, bright, humourous, and talkative. His mother, and that aunt who was the friend of his earliest as well as of his latest years, remember many in- cidents illustrative of his extreme lovingness and ceaseless merriment. Another, of his own age, relates, as one of her earliest memories, how she used to sit among the group of children round the nursery fire, listening to the stories and talk of this one child " whose tongue never lay." When a boy, he was sent to the Burgh school, where all the families of the place, high and low, met and mingled ; and where, if he did not receive that thorough classical grounding — the want of wliich he used alwaj^'s to lament, justly blaming the harsh and inefficient master who had failed to impart it — he gained an insight into character which served not only to give him sympathy with all ranks of life, but afforded a fund of amusing memories which never lost their freshness. Several of his boyish companions remained his familiar friends in after-life, and not a few of them are portrayed in his " Old Lieutenant." Among the numerous souvenirs he used to keep, and which were found after his death in his " sanctum" in Glasgow, were little books and other trifles he had got when a boy from these early associates. Ships and sailors were the great objects of his interest, and, contrary to the wishes of his anxious mother, many a happy hour was spent on board the vessels which lay at the pier — climbing the shrouds, reaching the cross-trees without passing through the hihbcr's hole, or in making him- self acquainted with every stay, halyard, and spar from truck to keel- sou. His boy companions were hardy fellows, fond of adventure, and so thoroughly left to form their own acquaintances that there was not a character in the place — fool or fiddler, soldier or sailor — whose pecu- liarities or stories they had not learned. Norman, even as a boy, seems thoroughly to have appreciated this many-sided life. The maiden ladies and the " half-pays," the picnics and supper parties, the rough sports of the schoolyard, or the glorious Saturday expeditions by the shore and headlands, were keenly enjoyed by him. He quickly caught up the spirit of all outward things in nature or character, and his power of mimicry and sense of the ludicrous were even then as marked as his aflfectionateness. Once, when he was unwell and about six years old, it became necessary to apply leeches. These he named after various characters in the town — the sheriff, the provost, &e. ; and while they were on his chest he kept up an unceasing dialogue with them, scolding one or praising the other, as each did its curative work well or ill, and all in the exact voice and manner of the various persons they were meant to represent. When Mackay, the actor, after- wards so famous for his personification of Bailie Nicol Jarvie, returned to Campbeltown — where he had once been a drummer-boy — to astonish its inhabitants by the perlbrmances of a clever little company in an improvised theatre, it was like the opening up of a new world to Nor- HI 28 LIFE OF NOIiMAN MACLEOD. p}^^'^^LZl^'t^^^^^^ ^-ts and cousins kay's company." He hadfrnnf fl V f companions could " do Mac romantic codnnginio^^^ ? ''T"^ ^^^^"^^ '^ throw a over others that he was never so nnt I '"' '/ ^'t" *^ ^^^^ sway one to influence, and w th whom Tm iST^^ 'f, ''^^'" ^^^ ^^^ «°^"« Ills own ideas and ima"inatiom iA fu '^''^'^ ^^^ ceaseless flow of him fanciful and h^rSTt^^^^^^^^^^ assigned by him to each of S^^^^^^^ Part was mile away became a voyage of d^s^o^v?^ \^'''^ ^^ '^"^« ^^^ek a ramble over the hills t^ook the shaneV-' '^''''%^!^'' ^^'^'^^- A French. ^ '^"^ ^^^^P^ of an expedition against the haJterVoSv^ht^^^^ "^^ ^"^ ^^^"g ««nt to Morven He that his sonThS k ;i:rSTn ^/"^^^"Tnxiot minister, determined to board him with old Mr'f^' ^' " ^^^hland schoolmaster in Morven, and so wliTabonf^ Cameron, the parish jvas sent first to the Manse ai'id hen fnfl "^'Y' T^^' ^^ ^S^' he His grandfather had died a S ,!,nnn \ / schoolmaster's house. memories of the old man!lrivedfrrnrt '^°'''- ^''' ^' ^^^ ^^ sions of the venerable m n ster Inl^r/^"' ^'''^'' ^"^ ^^^ i'^Pres- He was, for example, in "l iSo r^^n?r ''"'-"^^ ''''' never lost, grandfather, blind\vith aS wa 1^ ^v th.T^'IS^'^". ^^^^^^ ^^^^^ his table by his servant 'aW" to addL 1 '^^ This grandfather had been minister therp fn /ff^^' ^'' ^^^ ^''^^^ time, ful servant who now took hiS liad^l' ^'h ^^ ^'''''' ^''^ the faith- etl the Manse. It was then tha to^^^^^ '^'^\ ^^"^ ^^"^^ he had enter- the "Highland IVisl^' when thTo Id ^^^^^ ^^^^'^bed in turned himself the wrong wr.'iw ''^'"?/" ^"^ ^^^°^»^^« back and gently placed him with STfa^r/n.'r"'^ '^'^ '^''^^^^' ^'^"t picture of the aged pastor, wTt snowv Inir l^l '^^S^^g^ti.n. This Mmg solemn farewell toaflockXf ^H ffr ? ^"' shoulders, land race, regarded him a<, n f.f i?. ' ^ t^'' ^^^'^^ty of the Hi-^h- the imagination otZlml^^^::^ ^ -^-^ ^-ply touch 'i present remembers another occasTon Xn f • ^"S "^h*^ ^^^''s herself on his knee, presented him S a h^l '' ^' grandfather, taking him the eyes of the child-and tl on .oT ^ '^^~''" enormous sum m dragging hi.nself off, ruslfed awrtcf fh! "!i '"' ^^'''^'"-- ^^orman tig litly rolled himself; wh n Sn?. i] J".'''"^ '^""^' "^ ^^^^h he with tears. The goodness of the oW £ h' H "^'''\ ''''' ^^"^"^^^ his generous nature. "^^" ^'^^ Proved too much for 'as mdeed as the ope„i„,, of a i^wnt,,,?' "1 "!'»";?"""«'' ^'ywas7n£ra:\r„;^jr:f'?^';!r^^^^^^ «>unty town, and the granS-s-ihoo^ Z ^ 'V'"",' '""""« ^e little C«.„pbeltown, he landed on the rock? .1 ° ',°f ■""■ Playmates in Morven. The ve^ air was dilW°"S,; ^s '^j'"!''"' ,«-- ,»' ■i-iiL puns ot peaL-reek irom the BOYHOOD, 29 id cousins " do Mac- :o throw a ave sway- had some 5S flow of me under part was ' creek a 'ates. A linst the -en. He anxious lighland e parish ' age, he 5 house. i many impres- ^er lost, hen his lunion- 3t time, e faith - i enter- ibed in ndness 3, went This ulders, High- mched lerself ig him uni in rman, ch ]ie fFused 3h for 3d, as sailed little es in =e of [1 the cottages were to him redolent of Highland warmth and romantic childish associations. There was not a boatman from old "Eory " down to the betarred fisher-boy, not a shepherd, or herd, or cottar, not a dairymaid or henwife, but gave him a welcome, and tried to make his life happier. The Manse, full of kind aunts and uncles, seemed to him a paradise which the demon of selfishness had never entered. And then there was the wakening sense of the grand in scenery, nourished almost unconsciously by the presence of those silent moun- tains, with their endless ridges of brown heather ; or by the dark glen roaring with cataracts that fell into fairy pools, fringed with plumage of ferns, and screened by netted roof of hazel and oak; or by many 9,n hour spent upon the shoreland, with its infinite variety of breaking surge and rocky bays, rich in seaweeds and darting fish. But, above all, tliere was the elastic joy of an open-air life, with the excitement of fishing and boating, and such stirring events as sheep- shearing or a "harvest-home," with the fun of a hearty house, whose laughter was kept ever alive by such wits as Galium, the fool, or bare-footed Lachlan. His life in the dwelling of Samuel Cameron, the worthy school- master and catechist of the parish, was not less full of romance. The house was not a large one— a thatched cottage with a hut and a hen, and a little room between, formed the accommodation ; but every evening, except when the boys were fishing codling from the rocks, or playing "shinty" in the autumn twiliglit, there gathered round the hearth, heaped high with glowing peat, a happy group, who with Gaelic songs and stories, and tunes played on the sweet " trump " or Jew's harp, made the little kitchen bright as a drawing room; for there was a culture in the very peasantry of the Highlands, not to say in the house of such a schoolmaster as good Mr. Cameron, such as few countries could boast of. Tliere was an innate high breeding, and a store of tradition and poetry, of song and anecdote, which gave a peculiar flavour to their common life ; so that the long evenings in this snug cottage, when the spinning-wliecl was humming, the women teazing and carding wool, the boys dressing flies or sliaping boats, were also enlivened by wondrous stories of old times, or by " lilts" full of a weird and plaintive beauty, like the wild note of a sea-bird, or by a " Port-a-Beal," or a " Walking Song," to the tune of which all joined hands as tliey sent the merry chorus round. Norman had here an in- sight into the best side of the Highland chaiacter, and into many Highland customs now long passed away. Every week he used to go to the Manse from Friday till Monday, and tlien came such grand ex- peditions as a walk to the summit of Ben Shian, with its unrivalled view of mountain and loch ; or, still better, when whole nights were spent fishing at the rocky islands in the Sound. " Oh, the excitement of getting among a great play of fish, which made the water loam for half-a-mile round, and attracted flocks of screaming 30 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD, i i) the to and Llo wheTwo hnctd fo,° ""f'""? "'"'.?'"' fP-rt. And then another with clods o?wr?.r*fl, ■ ' ^S"" ™'"'S *" "''"ta. Nting one .ome sheHotd noX and aJi was ISm^IC^ f '"^ '""V" ^'"'p '" of sea-birds, and the ™l.l„f.„ '"' ''^""^"^^■"'e eerie cry Whatglori„;,sTlnisc:£shaveTU""onS^^^^^^ """"If "' "" P-^^ ra:?L3hrh:r^e^Tn£--"-'?^^^ which the^sim pkced on^fe bro^^ nf ; ""•'' *"/-'^^"^^' '^^" ^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^ scramble to tJie boX and iaT^w ^^ ? ""^ ^H '^^^P^^« '-^^^^e and our dozens ThZLm^'Jtih! T^^^^ ^T"^^ *^« ^^^'^ of hauling in on the sandy shore " * ^'" ^°' ^''"^^'^^'' ^^^^ ^^^i^i^S to be first help to delivtirfrr "the^cZ 7^0, Z^'tdtt'-S 'T memory, when he is driven forth into the wlidel^ss „flho..t? ^^'^ '" ""' " *lli<;hlancl Parish." ods had all And then the island, )elting one ;o sleep in e eerie cry ' its prey, pecially of ne as if I i^itnessed ! mediately n crowns ) first did mr" con- ' glory in into bars suddenly !on, and r and see easure I ^ake and iuling in ) be first I imagi- ^ards be he boy- s never )ve had loving, ood for ' in his and in • of his ish and ' down )y;fc- 36 dear af God heait, in the CHAPTER III. EARLY COLLEGE DAYS. IN the year 1825 his father was translated from Campbeltown to the parish of Campsie, in Stirlingshire, where he remained till 1835. The change was, in many respects, great from Campbeltown and the highlands to a half-agricultural, half-manufacturing Lowland district, in which the extremes of political feeling between stiftest Toryism and hottest Eadicalism were running high. The parish was large and thickly peopled, and its natural features were in a manner symbolical of its social characteristics. The long line of the Fell, its green sides dotted with old thorns, rises into mountain solitude, from a valley whose wooded haughs are blurred with the smc ke of manufac- turing villages. The contrast is sharply presented. Sheep-walks, lonely as the Cheviots, look down on unsightly mounds of chemical refuse, and on clusters of smoking chimneys ; and streams which a mile away are clear as morning, are dyed black as ink before tliey have escaped from print-work and bleaching-green. The Manse was on the borderland of mountain and plain, for it was placed at the opening of Campsie Glen, famous for its picturesque series of thundering water- falls and rocky pools. Behind the Manse lay the dachan and the old parish church, now in ruin. This was a busy period in his father's life, for, besides taking the pastoral charge of the large parish, lie wrote, during the ten years of his mmistry in Campsie, tlie greater part of the Gaelic Dictionaiy, which bears his name along with that of Dr. Dewar. He was editor and chief contributor to a monthly Gaelic magazine, which acquired unrivalled popularity in the Highlands;* and he also translated, at the request of the Synod of Ulster, a metrical version of the Psalms into Irish Gaelic, for tlie use of the Irish Presbyterian Church. Be- sides these literary labours, he took the chief part in establishing the education scheme of the Church of Scotland, the special sphere of which lay in the Highlands. While these public labours taxed his energy, his increasing family, and the concomitant res angusta datai, gave no little anxiety to himself and his partner in life. The Manse maintained the traditions of Highland hospitality, and tlu; ingenuity With which guests ^■/ere accommodated was equalled onlv by the skill •Thu "Tpachdaire Gaelllaclid." n ^2 LIFE OF NOBMAN MACLEOD. ilii Hi! r ; ft I «7ith wLich a very limited 'ncome was made to cover the expenses ot housekeeping, and the many requirements of a family of eleven chil- dren. Norman was sent for a year to the parish echool, taught, as many such schools then v/ere, by a licentiate of the Church — an ex- cellent scholar, and a man of great simplicity and cultiire. There is little to record of his schooldays, or of his first years at college. His career at thr, I'^uiversity of Glasgow, where he took his cuiriculum of Arts, was not distinguished by the number of prizes he carried off, for he gave himself rather tc the study of general literature and of science than the subjects proper to the classes he attended. Logic, admirably taught by Professor Buchanan, was indeed the only class in Arts which kindled his enthusiasm, and it was also the only one in which he obtained academical honours. He was frequently dressed sailor-fashion, and loved to affect the sailor in his speech as well as dress. Hio chosen companions seem to have been lads of precocious literary power — some of them considerably older than himself — whose attainments first inspired him with a passion for books, and especially for poetry. His favourite authors were Shakespeare and Wordsworth, the first acquaintance with whose works was as the discovery of a new world. He was, besides, passionately fond of natural science, and spent most of his spare hours in the museum, studying ornithology. There is little ?n his journals or letters ^'o indicate the impression which these college years made on him ; but one of the favourite subjects of con- versation in his later days was the curious life he then led; the strange characters it gave him for acquaintance; the conceits, absurdities, enthusiasms v\ which it abounded ; the social gatherings and suppers, which were its worst dissipations ; the long, speculative talks, lasting far into the night, in which its glory and blessedness culminated — and the hard, although unsystematic, studies to which it was the introduc- tion. The Icds of accurate scholarship, which the desultoriness of this kind of training entailed, might not have been sulficiently compensated by other advantages; nevertheless, contact with men, insight into c]i> r- acter, the culture of poetic tastes, of original thought, and of an eye for nature, were perhaps no mean substitutes for skill in Latin verse and acquaintance with the Greek particles. He was, besides, very i'ar from being idle. He read much and thought freshly, and even at a very early period in his University career he seems to have contem- plated joining a fellow-student in the publication of a volume of tales and poetry. His moral life was at the same time pure, and his religious convictions, though not so strong as they afterwards became, were yet such as prevented him from yielding to the many temptations to wbich one of his temperament and abounding, as he did, in animal spirits, was greatly exposed. Next to the grace of God, his affection for home and its associations kept him steady, A short journey i'rom Glasgow brought him out on many a Saturday during the session to spend Sunday at Campsie, and the loving welcomes he there receiveo EAELY COLLEGE DAYS. 33 and the thousand influences of the Manse-life sensed to keep his heart fresh and pure. These visits sometimes gave no little concern to his father and mother, for coming, as he did, in a full burst of buoyant ex- citement after the restraint of study, the noisy fun and the ceaseless mimicry in which he indulged, disturbing the very quiet of the Sabbath made them afraid that he would never be sedate enough for being a minister. Both father and mother; who could scarcely repress their own laughter at his jokes, wrote to him very gravely on the dangerous tendencies which were manifesting themselves in him. But they might as well ha^e asked him to cease to be, and, had the^ told the secret truth, they would scarcely have wished him different from what he was.* And so he passed the four years of his study of " the Arts " with happy summers interspersed, sometimes in the Highlands some- times in Campsie, untU, in 1831, he went to Edinburgh to' study theology. ^ Dr. Chalmers was then professor, and Norman listened with delight and wonder to lectures which were delivered with thrilling almost terrible, earnestness. The Professor's noble enthusiasm kindled a responsive glow in the young hearts which gathered to listen to him ^^i^^^^^i^dly interest he took in their personal welfare inspired them with affection as well as admiration. Dr. Welsh, a man of kindred spirit and powerful intellect, then taught Church History. Such in fiuences did not fail tu waken in Norman loftier inceptions of he career to which he looked forward. As might have b. ^n expectc,-^ Chalmers had a peculiar po^ver over him, for professor and student had many similar natural characteristics. The large-heartedness of the teacher, his missionary zeal, and the continual play of human „J!J'"""%T'"?j^°"''' ™?' '^'''8'niJ characters then in Canrsie, who afforded mnch amusement to Norman ; but his great friend was old Bell, ' 'm, au hor of '• Bell'^ Pp. graphy, • and editor of " Rollin's Ancient History." This man hS been a weav/r ?f,f' Impelled hy a powerful intellect and literary tasfo, he d"i h nself toXlv H^l hv-l with Irs wife m a mere hut, and sat surrounded bv bookq a Kil mnrn ^ " • Ct can on his head, and conversing Ivith an en.plmr and a^n orSalitf not ^rufv Jf ±r^;o?dVg"Vr^-':t;tSiSt'i^^^^^^^^^ • his text, " Tiiere ,„,„, i,;j ,,„„ , A o >-"..."-. H.miuiuiy up lurouga nis nngers t •vei his head. On one occasi.m, a young itreaclier having chosen a.. 3 ■nRBSOMaaMnMBaai 34 LIFE OF NORM AN MACLEOD. .; « tenderness pervaded by the holy hght of divine love, roused the sympathies of the scholar. He heartily loved him And Chalmers also valued the character of the student, for when asked by a wealthy English proprietor to recommend for his only son a tutor in whose character and sense he might have thorough reliance, Chalmers at once named Norman. This connection became of gre^ importance to him. The gentleman alluded to was the late Henry Preston i^q., of Moreby Hall, then High Sheriff of Yorkshire. For the next thi^e years Norman acted as tutor to his son ; and whether residing ac Morby or travelling on the Continent, the simple-hearted old squire treated him with the utmost confidence and affection In the autumn of 1833 he went for a few weeks to Moreby, but returned shortly afterwards with his pupil to Edinburgh, and was thus able to attend his theological classes; while he also s^v.erintended the studies of young Mr. Preston. DurincT his second sf ,sion at Edinburgh, besides the usual classes he attended Professor Jamieson's lectures on geology, and studied drawing and music. His brother-in-law, the Rev A. Clerk, LL.D., who was then his fellow-student, contributes the following reminis- cence : — "It was in the social circle Noman displayed the wondrous versatility, origi- nality and brilliancy of his mind. With a few of his chosen companions round him he made the evening instructive and delightful. He frequently, by an intuitive glance, revealed more of the heart ot a subject than others with more extensive and accurate scholai-ship could attain through their acquire- ments in philosophy or history. He was often disposed to start the wildest paradoxes, which he would defend by the most plausible analogies, and if forced to retreat from his position, he would do so under a shower of ludicrous retorts and fanciful images. Ho was ever ready with the most apt quotations from Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Coleridge and Keats, or with some telling story ; or, brimming over with fun, he would nnprovise crambo rhymes, sometimes most pomted, always ludicrous , or, bursting into song, throw more nature into its expression than I almost ever heard f/om any sinaer The sparkling effervescence of his mind often astonished, and always charmed *ud stirred, the thoughts, feelings, and enthusiasm of his com- panions." It was at this time he experienced the first great sorrow of his life. His brother James, his junior by three years, was a lad of fine promise. Like Norman in many thinys, he was his opposite in others, and the unlikeness as well as similarity of their tastes served only to draw them nearer to each other. Clover, pure-minded, and aflectionato, he was also— what Norman never was— orderly, fond of practical work, and mechanics. Norman was rollicking in his fun, James (luietly humorous. Ho was the delegated manager of glebe and garden, aiu jjf sQ n,vppf and wiunina a nature, that when he died the tokens ot fiorrowdisplayod by many in the parish were a surprise, as well as a consolation, to bis parents. Hitherto Norman had given little expres- EARLY COLLEGE DAYS. used tho Dhalmers , wealthy in whose aimers at iportance ton, Esq., ext three ac Morby e treated )f 1833 he ards with leological '. Preston, al classes, i studied k, LL.I)., reminis- tility,origi- dons round atly, by an )thers with )ir acquire- tlio Avildest ^ies, and if shower of h the most ats, or with vise crambo ; into song, d f.om any and always af his com- of his life. 10 promise, rs, and the ly to draw tiouato, he :tical work, les quietly ;ardcu, and I tokens ot s well as a ttle expres- 35 8ion to the religious convictions which had been increasincr with Ih'q growth since childhood. Now, however, he broke sS In the sick-room with none bivt their mother present, the two brothers opened their hearts to one another; and, on the laL,; evening thev were ever to spend together, the elder asked if he might pray with ihe younger Ihis was the first time lie had ever prayed aloutl in the presence of others, and with a full heart he poured out his supplicatforfor h L sclf and his cymg brother. When he left the room, James callhi "his mo her, put his arms round her neck, and said, "i am s'o Sft mother. Norman will be a good man." This was a turning-poh in Normans life; not, indeed, such a crisis as is usually called cove^ sion; not that the scene in the sick-room marked his first reliious decision; bu the solemnly of the circumstances, the frank aSof tbp ilV'^l^-^^i;' tremendous deepening which his feelings reSd by the death which occurred a few days afterwards, formed an epoch fVom which he ever afterwards dated the commencement of earnesfch tTan lite The anniversary of his brother's death was always kept sacred by him Other critical times arrived, other turning-points notss^m^ por tant were passed; but, as in many other instances, thL first ceaTh in the family, Avith the impressions it conveyed of the realitv of Pfprnln^ and^oniie grandeur of the life in Christ, L to ^^t:^ At the close of the winter session he returned, with Mr Preston tc To his Mother, written by him when a mere boy :— nuunniii, it is only now flwif n fn«,i .„^+i -^ «etty. (Jii, my dour misfortunos a Jiin.r Tf v n }J "^otl'^!*^ >« mi.ssed, when dangers and ••Jiotty, n.y vvurUiy housokecper, has told mo to-day that she has lorty- •rnncip»l liaird, of lidinburffh. moi 36 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD, five young birds and ducks. I think a sixth is to be added in the laundry —if it be so, I intend to get a share of Donald Achalene's* bed in the asy- lum." From his Mothee, when he was a student in Glasgow :— " While younger, and under the immediate eye of your father and myself, I could watch every little tendency of your disposition, and endeavour as much as I could, to give it the right bias ; but now, my beloved child, you are seldom with me, you are exposed to many temptations, and ch ! if you knew the many anxious thoughts this gives rise to ! Not, my dear, tha* I fear anything wrong in principle, in the common acceptation of the word; buo how many shades are there between what is glaringly and broadly wiong to the generality of observers, and the thousand acts and thoughts and words that must be watched and corrected and repented of and abandoned, in order to become a Christian ! Avoid whatever you have found hurtful, be it ever so delightful to your taste, and persevere in whatever you have found useful towards promoting piety and heavenly-mindedness. You must not look on this as a mother's dry lecture to her son; no, it is the warm afi'ection of a heart that truly loves you as scarce another can do, and which prays and watches for your eternal interest." /^rojft his Father :— , ••Campsib, Feoruary2% 1829. " I rejoice to see your companions, if you would conduct yourself with calmness and seriousness on the Sabbath day, and cease your bufibonery of manner in tone of voice and distortions of countenance, which are not only offensive, but grievous. You carry this nonsense by much too far, and I beg of you, my dear Norman, to check it. Imitation and acting a fool is a poor field to shine in; it may procure the laugh of some, but cannot fail to socine the comtempt of others. I was much pleased with the manner of the Stewart boys their steady, grave, sedate manner formed a very striking contrast to the continual mimicking and nonscxnse at which you aim. I implore of you, by the tenderness of a iuther, and by the authoiity of one, to desist from it in time, and to despise it, and to assume a more manly, sedate msinncr. " I hope you will take in good part, as becomes you, all I have stated and evince to mo that you do so when I have the hajipincss, my dear boy, to see you. I rejoice to see everybody happy ; but there is a manner that gains on a person if indulged in, which must be guaided against, and none more dangerous than that butfoonery which, by makiny; others laugh, causes us to think ourselves very clever. You, even already, seldom use your own voice or gestures or look— all is put on and mimicked ; this imi»t cease, and the sooner the better. After this I shall say no more on the subject. I leave it to youv own good Ben.se to correct this. ♦♦Ever your dutiful Father." To his Aunt Jane:— *' February, 1831. " I read youi' letter over and over, and chuckled over it-s coruseutions of *A lli^hlaud uharactur. laundry the asy- l myself, ivour as lild, you ! if you V, thaib I ord; bi;b nriong to ords that order to t ever so id useful , look on tion of a irays and 3, 1829. self with aonery of not only md I beg is A poor to secure e Stewart intrast to re of you, st from it nner. ,ve stated dear boy, nner that and nono gli, causes use your tliis iiuist re on the father." ry, 1831. leutions of JEABZr COLLEGE DAYS. 37 wit and brilliancy ; swaflowed, and finally digested all fli« o^vtnn- t fact, it brought me back to Fiunary once'^mof^lto Suna ylt all Us pleasures and its many enjoyments. I could, with a little effort of fencv picture myse f si ting with J. in the garret, giving way to mTmimS propensities to please her, in whatever charac'ter she chose,^r oTeTf thf social circle round a happy tea-table, or taking an intelleM Zkl^. the bea<)h; and no sooner is this imaginary train set a-goinrthln manv f happy day spent among the rocks, and in the woods hill« n? „^ ^ gli^t like before me, till my too pleasing dream rSken"^;, a'difeTekr -the college bell summoning poor wretches from their warm beds to trudle ^ra^rvetLtSd^ From his Mother: „r. . . " Campsib, November 27. It gives me pleasure to observe the warm nnd apmn-r,^ f^v ^ t^om of an affectionate «spo,iti„„_freI?^p2n^ Y^m^^^^^^^^ ""■ Jong may I tod yon frankly owning your thoKs and fr'^Z^ !l. i"' first beginning to argue you will by-and-by think these v^ews right/' To his Aunt Jane :— <« Axru • ii '*June, 1832. ^^""^^h^Vt::^ o^that lovely poem, mgs^ to excite the more gentle onel P^tiy" oly, ^ ev ^^^ '"'" was^oln'TtKoTar^vl^^^^^^^^ ""TIt' ^-^-^17 My father keeping down rot«.cSi'nrtb? ft' '''"^ ^'^ 1^"^"" ^''^^^^^ »^«tween and riotous f^elS t£ have Ln /''' '^"^'^"?"^"g ^^^ ^^^.e disgraceful complaint. ^ ^^^ ^'"'^ *°° "^"''^ ^^'^ attendants of this sad r<^^^itl^t^i:^^, %T% f «ken-pox; Tolly's face is like a associations li he fiSc rock thT. "' T',^ ^''' -'""J"'"^ "I^ ^ ^^^^"'^'^"^ fro at my fi-et I Out Z L «' "'""^ ^'^^ "^^^^"fe' *'»« ^'"igle to and already Yu^of hh^ I k 'w Z l\ '■' '^°T ^'' ''^'^^' '^' "^^^ ' I -^ Limerick. He nitfs it anJ „ !"* ? ^r*^' '^"'^ *^^« ^'^^^ «f *'»« best W side to si^a 1 Is ofi' Bu^h;'°"'^""'^' .^'""'^^ "^°^^"» ^^ '^^ -longing look at the C bait :^lir.r^^^r^^^^ l^^ and casts -.longing look at the large bait; slowlv his ,«.w« n..., „,., ... .u„ ,.„, «tp;iuhcu manner close on thn inf.nl ..«,! ;,^ xi'" i-" "^ ;•"?•' m tnc most » """ ^o.uotiiing white turn nc.Tn7i: . *'*'' ''"" ^^"'"''' ^'»« ''""l ^ends, li.n^ wnito turning in the water, my ey,)s fill till I hoar ' Wfutck' f) f Letter to his Brother James, James' hair) : — 38 ZIFU OF NORM AN MACLEOD. on the rock, and there he lies as red as-as what's the man's name, at Savarie-John Scallag's father % as red as he. Pardon me, Jane; is mght Ts oppressively hot, it'is perfect summer. They are turning the almost dry hav on the glebe-a calm sleeps on the woods and hills, and this, too, vividly recalls the sound of Mull, as I fancy it to be on such an evening I am at this moment in fancy walking up the road to Fmnary with a goM of fish knowing that thanks and a good tea await me. " r onfess that when I indulge in such fancies, I ifvol^^tanly wish my- self away from my books to feast and revel m the loveliness of the SalachanVe, oi- Clach na Criche ;' but, as I told you before. I wish to have some summer to look back to as one usefully employea. (luside of this letter was found placed a lock of •• MoREBY Hall, October, 1833: ♦«I went on Sabbath to church. There was no organ ; but what think you 1 a flute, violin, and bass fiddle, with some ^f f "g^^fv^J^owever I liked the service much. Monday was a great day at Yoik, all the town and country were there, it being the time at which once every three or four years. Lord Vernon, the Archbishop of York confirms the chr^dren of iZ pai of the diocese. The scene was beyond all description. Fancy upwanls of three thousand children under fifteen, the females dressed in white with ladies and gentlemen, all assembled in that glorious minster- Jhfthorsand stained glass windows throwing a dazzling light of various esoX white .asf-the great organ ^o^^V'^' ' Y'Thercfet never-endin- arches! The ceremony is intensely simple; they come in Ss l^d fiftls, and surround the bishop, who repeats the vows and lays hTs hand successively on each head. I could not he p comparing this with a .ommentaToccasion in the Highlands,* where there is no minster but ^hl widTwen, and no organ but the roar of '^-;^^^^^'^X':^''^l with its lonely churchyard and primitive cor.gregation, and-thmk ot my Sotch pdde -I thought the latter scene more grand and more impressive. I ascended to-day to the top of the great tower in the mmster, two hund ed Ld sevent;:^^^ ! But Lh a view ! I gazed ^T -f -^^^^^^e w^ North for a while-not that I expected to see anything , but there was nothing but masses of wood." Extracts from hia Journal :— " Edinburgh, Tuesday/, 1st Nov., 1 833. --Begm to read on crystallogi-apl^ and ceoW ?Lyell). I wish, above all things, to know minemlogy and ge- Igy thoroVghiy. ^ I must attend chemistry, anatomy, and botany, lo acquire accurate knowledge is no joke. " Tuesday 3rd i)ec.— There are certain days and times in a mans ex- istence wlS are eras in his little history, and which greatly ^^iU^cenn futui'elife This day has been to me one of much pani ; and oh ! w 1 u n lutuie iiiu xiiia « J- ,^> ^ influence still the grief bas l-^»ed aw'.^„<:^^it^^^^^^^^ ilf that he cannot in Tir»an'ibiSr.-vt How .trange th„t I who, when in health •11 i« . .»,n,no„ custom in tUo Highlaua. to c.l.br»t. ths Comn.uuiou m tie op., ftir duriug buiumur. name, at [ .is night Imost dry this, too, I evening. ;h a gadd wish my- 6S of the I wish to a lock of •, 1833: hat think [owever, I c, all the very three e children a. Fancy iressed in minster — of various irough the y come in s and lays y this with linster but the church link of my impressive, ro hundred toward the there was tallogi-aphy gy and ge- otany. To I man's ox- itluence his oh ! when fluencG Btill e cannot, in sn in health u iu the open HABLY COLLEGE DAYS, 39 and strength, and with everythinf? to cheer anrl U+fi^ +^ j xi , thought not of God, the gre^t Giver :Si;ltu,d^ It'hJr?o''l!' "''"w]T ^^*' *^' ^'^y'' ^^y''^' '^"^ dearest of mothe7so4' at heart, for her child, raise my voice, and I hone mv li^nr^ T1 it- 1 has been despised and rejected bv me Mv wS l I ^"^ T^'"" earthly fHend! and God kUs the^^Hfeirp^ft:^ «Ton7h'at for her character. And now, O God of my Fathers thTfs^i? % t. cember, solely and entirely uAder Thy guidance Icon>mpL; ^^ fJ^t the good fight. I acknowW Thy Lf dtrakLrmrde^rS^^^^^^^^^^ ness the means; through, and only for the ssVp nf +1, wotiiei s ill- Jesus Ct™. do I look fo an answo^- tt^Utll '^.f/:' ^it?" T/mrsday.-It ,s past twelve. The wind blows loud, and tie min fall, I am alone in body, but my mind is in my brothert riom where I „' S'b7w?rthrtth''.™'^ ''""""'" ■"» '°^ -''" " "-^ ^^^' M^; su:*rs;,^^,,nitttv?:iu'"i'th^s.;i?^ ^-' r °' stiiKpi-,-^^^^^^^^^^^^ shall never, I hope, come to that state in which I can fomet «n Z I' , cTve^Sn^^ittd *;jir '°- ""^ '- ^^ ^»^» ' ^s^:^ mmd. But, James, it is but tl7eh sMheie sLr " F"' "'"""'»%''( 'Yes, Jamie, but I shall be weak, and all wj^ l\„t wTholZI™''' for I know jo„ are Christ's, and Christ is S '• ■ I h, Ir N i clearer views since we , net 'l know on whom lean Lt™' ''°™''"' «°' my own brother, whether you now see me or not Tf vZ^i ''""T ''°*' on earth as it is done iu heaven." ^ ^^^^ ^^ '^^'^^ From his Mother :— « -vr • " ^''^^'^(^ry 7, 1834. hueJ5;5;':=Sr r:;/:s-met::;r'£i:::^ £.JTs'':ir;XoT7S-o""°" ^'""-"^ ''■- •'"« ^-'^'^e From his Journal :— ".Fri*.y._VVent in the evening with Uncle Neil to a meeting oi th» fi 40 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. Shakespeare Club— VandenhofF, Ball, MacKay, &c. A very pleasant even- ing; fine singing; two scenes I won't forget: the noble feeling of Vanden- hoff when his daughter's health was drunk, and Ball's acciamations (! !) interrupting a very humbugging, stupid speech, proposmg the memory of Lord Byron. There is blarney all the world over. I plainly see the stage, as it now is, and the Church are at complete antipodes. " Sunday.— iSot two months dead— my dearest brother — and yet how changed am I ! I thank God with my whole heart and soul that H« has not forsaken me. I seem a merry, thoughtless being. But I spend many a thinking and pleasant hour in that sick-room. That pale face, all intelli- gence and love — the black hair — the warm and gallant heart of him I loved as well as a brother can be loved — shall never be forgotten." To his Mother: — •♦ York, March 9, 1834. " In an old, snug garret, in the city of York, upon Good Friday, with tlie minster clock chiming twelve of the night, do I sit down to have a long ehat with you, my dearest mother. " I intend upon Sabbftth to take the sacrament at Moreby. I have re- flected on the step, and while I see no objection, I can see every reason in showing forth the Lord's death with Christian brethren of the same calling; as to me, individually, it signifies little whether I take it kneeling at an altar, or sitting at a table." To his Aunt:— .^„ „ ^ ., ,« ,/m,j «« Sign Hill, April 12, 1S84. <'One peep of Loch Aline or of Glen Dhu is worth all in Yorkshire. Their living is certainly splendid ; but, believe me, I shall never eat Miy of their ragouts, or di*ink their champagne, with the same relish as I ate i^ cake and drank the milk beside my wee bed when I returned from fishing. If only the white can had not been broken ! " ti:i Te his Mother :— .,,.,„„. **Near Morebt, Aprd 16, 1834. " The house is full, and I am now sleeping at the farm, a quarter of a mile from the house. We have very pleasant people — Lady Vavasour and her son and daughter. They have been abroad for six or seven years in different parts of the Continent. She and I are great friends. "We get letters from her for the Court of Weimar, and she has been drilling me how to speak to her 'Imperial Highness' the Grand Duchess, sister to the late Emperor of Eussia." •> ;! From his Journal :— *'22nd April, Mondai/, — Upon Easter Sunday I partook of the sacrament in York minster, and although the formulas are of course different from ours, jet, 'as there is no virtue in them, or in them that administer them,' I found God w.",H nressnt witli me to bestow nnich nomt'ort. " During the next week all was gaiety. A party or ball every night. lasant even- 3f Vanden- nations (! !) memory of e the stage, id yet how )hat H« has pend many I, all intelii- him I loved EARLY COLLEGE DAYS. 41 S^V^oaZUX?^^^ riding, seeing "I start to-mo^ow m(«^inV^Z T^ A^'i """'* "^^ ^ ^^s very happy »mnd is the deep sense rreTpoSiS'T ^"* T^"' ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^7 superintendence of my pupHri am^«hn T, T^'^= ^ ^^^« ^°* ^^7 tl^e thousand circumstancL which are eZpt? *? ^? ^^^^ ^ ^^^^ trial in a from God. But my onljSlLeTL ]?• '^^"^n *.^? *° ^'^^ ^^ ^^^d off «. te ^-Thou 4o Jdrmake nx whS'Tam Jht ^^^^* ^^«"^^* ^.i?ed in my a^ectioi, ^l '^:: ^^^^.X^'XZ^^Ti •ch 9, 1834. ay, with tlie lave a long I have re- 'y reason in ime calling; 3ling at an il 12, 1884. Yorkshire. r eat Miy of 3 I ate ^le rom fishing. U 15, 1834. juarter of a Eivasour and en years in is. We get ing me how r to the late e sacrament fferent from lister them,' ivery night. CHAPTER IV. WEIMAB. WEIMAR, the capital of the little Duchy of Saxe-Weimar, was chosen by Norman Macleod and young Preston as head- quarters during their residence on the Continent. It was at that time a desirable place for those who wished to see German life as well as to study German language and literature. Not that the external features of the town are possessed of interest, for the Palace, with its surrounding park, and the Round Tower, containing its excellent free library, do not redeem Weimar from an aspect of quiet dulness. Yet it was anything but dull in those days. The people prided themselves on the memory of their great citizens — Goethe, then recently departed, Herder, Schiller, and Wieland — and kept up the tradition of literary culture derived from that golden age of their history; while the Grand Duke, with his court, sustained its reputation for hospitality and for gaiety of the old-fashioned order. Tlio town could also boast of a good theatre, an excellent opera, and music ad libitum in public gardens and cafc^s. The Grand Duke was of a most amiable disposi- tion, and the Duchess, sister of the Russian Emperor, was a woman of brilliancy and culture, and of great kindness of heart. There was an early dinner at the Palace every Sunday, followed by an evening reception for all foreigners who had been introduced ; and various balls and state ceremonies, scattered at short intervals throughout the year, averted the normal stagnation of the place, and made it a cheer- ful and pleasant residence. " With a five-and-twenty years* experi- ence since those happy days of which I write," says Thackeray, who had lived in Weimar a year or two previous to the time we are speak- ing of, " and an acquaintance with an unusual variety of human kind, I think I have never seen a society more simple, charitable, courteous, gentlemanlike, than that of the dear little Saxon city where the good Schiller and the great Goethe lived and lie buried."* The change was certainly great from Dr. Chalmers and the Divinity Hall, from the simple habits of the manse, and from the traditionary beliefs, bigotries, and customs — some true, some false — which hedged the religious life of Scotland, to this Weimar, with its rampant world- Hrssc «nd rationalism. It was, nevertheless, an excellent school for ihe j'oung Scotchman, who at every turn found some insular pre- judice irpiiipled on, or tlie strength tried of some abiding principle. •Letter to G. H. Lewes iu the "Story of the Life of Goethe." iimar, was as head- ; that time IS well as ! external e, with its 3llent free less. Yet hemselves departed, )f literary the Grand y and for 3oast of a in public le disposi- woman of jre was an a evening id various ighout the t a cheer- 's' experi- :eray, who are speak- man kind, courteous, 3 the good e Divinity aditionary ch hedged mt world- school for sular pre- nciple. ^^^s::^::^^^ ^^^ ^t^ ^-d of an and combined the strangest ecceSctL ?f 7' ^ cultivated scholar, the gentlest and most uSeTfish of .!f ^ i^.^'*'' ^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^^ valetudinarian. "My si^' had bpl !'' • "^ ^^^ ^ confirmed whose demands were d scussed as n>'' ^ ^'''^°'' Personality to him, his household rathertE a mrtoft-tKf' ''''' '.^'""^^"^ "^^^^^er of lost half its charm but fo olfwefssenbom^.tff^'^^^^^^^ '''^''' '^^"^^ Waltina, his chameleon rfruitM ^^^^^^^^^^ "Kosmos'lJnscollechonol e!os ZZZ "'"''^ ^f'"'''^ ''' '^'^ and body. AU tlie E„..li h w^o'^wen to W ""''"^^^ 'f^''' °f "^^"d and no father or brother could hnl^V '""^' ^""^^^ " ^^'^ I^^ctor," did in promotin/theTr ban Jr^^^ ^T^^^'^^ "^^^rest than he " Thou wert my instructor S^^ W ^\^^^^^^i^g then- studies, lovingly. "AndthesreVesbPltL H '''"^°'"' ^"<^«« Thackeray little Weimar tou^, '^ ^ ^'^'"^^ ^^'"^ ^''^^ "^^^^^ In^iself in dear its^~ ^^S^l?LSCft^^i;i^^^^^ /^doubtless had his grasp of central truth «rH ? ^"^ ^''^^^^ '^^^^^^ ^^^e current, yet through many temptations anrl wL 1 1^ f °^ ^°d' ^® ^'^^e safely good over the group of Zm. In f/^^^ ^'"i '''?''''' ^" "^A^^^^ce for residing tliat yL aVwS ^"e ve " ^ST'l T ^'°'^^^^^ ^^^^° ^^^'^ into all their innocent enSymentl and Ltl ' ^'' f "'"'"^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^"^ to restrain them in other thiZHpl^'f ^T? ^^"" -^'^^^er power great a rein to thar-lTbX'^ ^1^^^^ temperament, but it is mSvellon 1 1 fT '' '""-'^"^^^ *° ^"« ^^^ural one who, brought up L a sti^ct ' l Li '' ''"'.^i'^^ ^^^ ''^^ S^'^^ter in vortex of fashionable H?e He wt .' ""'' 'l^^i^'^^ *^^^^^^" "^^o the well to the guitar sLm;..! .1 ^ Passionately fond of music. san« attacM in WeCar ntl fi , '^''\^.' '''^^ ^^ ^een a waltzer a; an? -to the gaietr;"'tS'lS elapSr^m^^^ ™' f ""^. ^^" -^J^^-"^ warned him against go n 'loo ?ar in ^u! ""^ «,nd mother frequently Inmself for what he deemed his Infnf u ' ^?^ ^^ °^^^^ reproached ^Nevertheless, theTxneiWp ! • f. self-restramt when in society, practical impo I'X lin ^l^-^^"^^ V" i^'""''' ^^^^^"« of immenTe while he gained an 1-n.,-?' f^'' ''''''' ^^^althy nature repelled the evil new to hi7nLiwn .^; "/^^ ^^'^ '^''^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ world.^In what was was caHeruS d "v osf rlr Ttf' '''f '^ ^^ own cotly and he also perceived! L e J^t '1 wi \/^ °"°*^^ ^"^ ^' vindicated; "utter rottenness" i^is Pn!fi 11 .''^^*'^"^'' ^* ^^^^h more-in the Weimar airbroi'h Mnfat^^^^^^^ ""' "^^f -'^ "^^'^d terms life '' ratW than direct, po we oi 1 if ^L^^^^^^^^ ''^^ ^^^^ indirect, with many others, to come nderthP t^^ .I\was his late, in common beauty, the Baroness mX"..o^1 '^''''''^'r\''' '^'' '^''^' ^«"^'^ ,on b . Thackeray used olten to ' ■ 'llouadabout Paijeib, !>« £ mibus. " ^ 44 LIFH OF NORMAN MACLEOD. describe her extraordinary charms—" the kind old Hof-Marschall von S (who had two of the loveliest daughters eyes ever looked upon)."* And she could have been no ordinary woma,n who had the genius thus to evoke, as by a spell, a poetic and ideal life in the young minds she attracted to her. With Norman she became a kind of ro- mance. She touched his imagination rather than his affections, and awakened a world of sesthetic feelings which long afterwards breathed like a subtile essence, through the common atmosphere of his life. When working against vice and poverty in his parish in Ayrshire, dur- mg the heats of the Disruption controversy, amid prosaic cares as well as in the enjoyment of poetry and art and song, Melanie haunted him as the sweet embodiment of happy memories, the spirit of gracefulness and charm and culture; and thus, for many a day, the halo of the old associations, in which the real Melanie was etherealised, served to cas^t a delicate light of fancy over the rough details of practical daily work. When he and Preston returned to Moreby, Norman had become in many ways a new man. His views were widened, his opinions mat'-.red, his human sympathies vastly enriched, and while all that was of the essence of his early faith had become doubly precious, he had gained increased catholicity of sentiment, along with knowledge of the world. To A. Clerk :— it * " Weimar, May 30, 1834. * Let us pass Frankfort ; half-way to this we visited Eisenach. The approach to the town is through the loveliest scenery of wooded and broken knolls. On the top of the highest stands Wartzburg, where Luther was held in friendly captivity to brood over the fate of his country amidst the solitude of a German forest. Would to God there was a second Luther ! Germany is in a most extraordinary state. The clergy- man here (Riihr) is head of the rationalist school; of religion there is none, and most of the clergy merely follow it as a power in the hands of the State. I am credibly informed by competent judges that ninety-nine out of a hundred are infidels. If you but heard a rationalist talk on religion ! I had a talk with one yesterday. He believed in Hume on miracles, and, moreover, said that he thought it of no consequence for our faith in Scrip- ture whether miracles were true or not; in short, he believed in the Scriptures, and yet said they were * pious frauds.' i^evils and all are to be saved at last (tell this for his comfort). If you wish to adore your own Church, country, and profession, come abroad. Here once lived and died Goethe, Schiller, Herder, and Wieland. The souls of the men still cast a halo on the town, brighter than most in Germany. There are many clever fellows here ; a splendid library, open free to all ; a glorious park, likewise open, in which the nightingale never ceases to sing. I am in a very nice family. The lady is a countess by right, and yet they have boaidera. Such is German society ! They (jficii dine at the Grand Duiies. ♦Letter to G. H. Lewe3 in the "Story of ihe Life of Goethe." irscliall von jver looked ^ho had the tt the young kind of ro- ections, and •ds breathed of his life. jTrshire, dur- iares as well launted him gracefulness Lo of the old irved to ca!*t ictical daily 1 become in liis opinions bile all that precious, he 1 knowledge ^ay 30, 1834. his we visited est scenery of Is Wartzburg, le fate of his Jod there was The clergy- there is none, hands of the inety-nine out k on religion ! miracles and, aith in Scrip- ilieved in the d all are to be to adore your mce lived and the men still here are many glorious park, ig. I am in a y^et they have Grand Duke's. the." WUIMAR 45 The music glorious. Every third mVJif ot. shillings. The Grand DuL uppoSs if and '^n "Z*^ ^'^* ^°^^ ^°^ *^° amusement of the people on Sund^ ^go ^ Ao .aVeL' 't fl^' V"' ^'^' &c or to play at nine-pins ; a band of So ^n^ "" ^""^^ ^^^^"' ^^^ where. The postilion who drives the F^w!' ''T^^' ''^''^S eveiy^ way. A man would commit suTcdfwefjv^^^^^^ ^^' '^' ^^^le " The country is a mighty fiX wUlZt a t f'^""^! ^"" ^*' ^^ P^P«- come out with wort I'German'Ike^^^^^^^^ ^peak Gaelic. Often have I plump outright, 'Diabhaull E a'am^' nie something, when I answered reason, I may mention that my friend Dr W. °^\'' '^'^^^'^^ ^^ ««r°^*» to-day that he believed matter In SL to bTr^amr' *°'' ^ ^^^^^^>' as animals arose from our bodies so we mil K *' 'P'"*^' "^^^ *hat plants." '^^> ^° "^^ ^^y be mere productions of the To his Mother : felt-have a substantiafexistenceTndmZh? u% P"'*^ '^'^ ^^^^^s are of the worid either spoils a mar;,r m.St '^* ^'' ^^^'' "^ knowledge done me good in a thousand ways Ttli^ ^ore perfect. I feel it hts -«.. I see mankind like so mTny meZtCdTt^^'"' '''^ "^"^ ^'^^ ^ ahke governed andelevated by the somTwi, r^u^^ ^^"^^ atmosphere, know ; to feel it is invaluable *^''''- ^^'' ^ clergyman should m;eye;,and^:irw£4a\^^^^^^^^^^ Many a time 1 shut at the rock or walking about thf dd t ^ll ? f""^ "^^'"^^ ^^'^ *« fi^^ing m the glen or on the UIl. Althoul itt ' 1l '" '' "* °*^^^ ^^'' ^ ^^ are few periods in our lives reX Sappier Tw^^^ ^^' ^ ^'^^^^ *^«re (lays must have been paradi.se-I wa^T n.r W, °*^'T^' f ,^^<^^ ^^'^^ tl^ose «ame time, I remember well my mSy w^shS / """''^^1'^^ ^^"«- ^''^^ hash. .deal. That was ^ine ;\^.TJ:X%'^^^^^^^^^ From his Mother .•— " You ono'lif Tir,+ «, i. •, "Campsie, June SO. Piil.il ; in the next iJace 11^11^ ri .;"? ''«" it '° "'=' »" ^mpk to your » be kept .ac-eC i^ tb„ar„l';rdVerSffb^i';rt':^™'^' ^'^ -' -^ From his Journal :_ i 46 LIFE OF NORM AN MACLEOD. I I this is something. I must say I have much confidence in the sound sense and morality of the people of Scotland. It is absurd to measure them by the turbulent effervescence of ranting radical town fools, who make theories and speak them, but do no more. There is a douceness (to use a phrase of our own) about the mass and staple bulk of farmers and gentlemen that will not permit violent and bad changes. " But how different is the case in Germany ! There is an apathy, a seem- ing total indifference, as to what religion is established oy law. The men of the upper classes are speculators, and take from Christianity as it suits their separate tastes. They seem to have no idea of obligation. True, the lower classes are not so drunken as ours, just because they have nothing to drink, and their tastes lie in other directions. Not one of them, I believe, is regulated by its moral tendency. In other vices they are worse— much worse. May Germany have another Luther ! " \Wi July, Tuesday night. — I have to-day received a letter from my mother announcing that my old and dea! Mend Duncan Campbell is dead ! I reverence his memory. He was a friend worthy of the warmest attachment and deepest regard. We were at school together. For many years, I may say, I lost sight of him, until in 1829, in the moral philosophy class in Glasgow, we met as students. From that hour an intimate and close friend- ship commenced, shart^d with a third, James Stewart. We were called ' the three inseparables,' or 'the trio.' That winter we were literally every day six or seven hours out of the twenty-four in one another's company. A more simple, amiable, and deeply delicate heart there never lived : generous, un- selfish, and noble ; one of the few that retain in college life the purity which nature stamps. He is gone before me. His memory is associated with happy days. I am far from his resting-place, but I need never seek it, as I may exclaim in the beautiful words of the translated Persian poet — " Dicebant mihi sodales si sepulchrum amici viaitarem, Curas meas aluiuantulum foro levatas Dixi autcm— an ideo aliud prreter hoc pectus hobct sepulchrum."* *^Jid.y nth. — To-day I walked with the doctor to the Gottes-acker (the churchyard). I hate the style of foreign burying-grounds. The deeper feel- ings of our heart, and especially grief, are far removed from the rank, over- grown bushes or fi'om the fiowers that are associated with neat beds in a lady's garden. No; sjiinplicity is unalterably connected with deep passion. "Upon Saturday, Halley, the two Millers, Preston, and I, had good fun on the f^ttersberge playing 'I spyi' and drinking Wurtzburg. Well, wo enjoyed ourselves much, and not the less as it reminded us all of scliool boy days. "27ctly ~c Mother, you have taste yourself, so excuse my rant. Wiien vou on v vp member the bean-idfal life I have been leading, call me weak caH Z fool, but le me speak it out, and, like a great ass, turn up my ' of no^e against Hcotch lairds and their pride, and Scotch preachers wuKieTr fanaT C.1 notions. I agree with my father to a 'T' about them. And to be ol^Ha such trash ; or by my vote, on this side or that ; or by my love of mu^ic ^ . """^ ^' ^"^.'■^'/"^" ^ '^"^ '^«^«' '^"^l in better humour ' Nex. f. Scotland J love her. I a./i;;:;n fj^^^;:^ j^ ^ ^Z^LT^^l I have operjis, no m>ws. Th«> Ki>ni" vouH^^a -f ^- i- i m ri.. * 7 •I. '';"^;'"e ut n-unnsr, hails uuint concerts and 52 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD, ; I From Dr. Weissenborn (written to N. after his return to Scotland): — "Weimar, July, 1835. " You appear to be a thorouglily revised and improved edition of yourself. Happy man, whose feelings are not alienated from his native country and early connections by a residence abroad, yet keeps a lively re- membrance of his friends there, whose sound constitution throws out foreign peccant matter, after having assimilated the wholesome principles. Don't smile if I become a little pathetic on the subject. I really was afraid that your residence here would have an injurious effect on yo\ir tondencie.., mi- clinations, future plans, and prospects ; in short, your happiness t -i -- ^^"^I- ness to your fellow-creatures. I therefore looked forward to¥r\. ir return not as a happy event, but as one fraught with evil consoquei and uneasy feelings to myself, the more so because my health is so very bad and fluctuating, that I would have felt all the misery you might have brought upon yourself without being able to remedy or lessen it. You'll forgive a sick man if he take, perhaps, too gloomy a view of flings; but you may judge how happy I feel to find that all my evil »»ticipatio»s are di8i)ell«d by your letter. As to the difference of opinion which exists between you and me with respect to religion, I trust it is only formal, and I hope German rationalism has not made you a whit less inclined to dispense the blessings of religion to your future parishioners under those forms which are most suited to their circumstances, or most likely to produce the best practical results; though I am convinced myself that we can't stem the torrent of the age so effectually here as it may be possible on your insulating stand of old England. We must first exijerience its devastations before we can reap the fruit of its inuudaUou." // ?5. >n 01 itive rre- eign )on't that ir and and Light sick udge your I me rman sings most tical f the fold p the CHAPTER V. APRIL, 1835~NOVEMBER, 1836. "W^^S ^^'l ^^pept^on Of a brief visit to Scotland, he remained at Z:, ^JfnM^™''] ^P"^' ^^^^' ^l^^'i^^e '^et^^ed from the Con- rZtl^ ?i ^' °i *^,.^^«^e year. He then went to Glasgow to resume his theological studies. As his father was at that time llavinc^ Campsie for his new charge of St. Columba, Glasgow, he lived with Z f friend and relative, Mr. William Gray,°in Brandon Place. He at once devoted himself to hard study. Not only do his note- books show the extensive fieki of reading he went over, but his former iellow-students were surprised at the rapid mastery he had obtained over various branches of theological learning in which he had before 1 7w"l^ ^ Pf '"^ 'm ''''^- ^""'^ ''^^^'''''S^ ^'' previous education had not been favourable to scholarship in the technical sense, yet from this time to his latest day he cultivated accurate methods, read extensively on whatever subjects he was professionallv occupied with worked daily at his Greek Testament, and kept himself welHnformed tJn %!• 1 o^modern criticism. He had the rare faculty of rapidly getting the gist of a book, and, without toiling over every parre he seemed always to grasp the salient points, and in a marvellously short time carried away all that was worth knowin<>- the VhnrH!'^f°V^f'' i"'i ^"^^^'^ ^''^^"" ^^^^ ^^««"ed Moderator of the Church ot Scotland, he went to Edinburgh, and listened with great interest to the debates of an Assembly, the Attention of whkh was directed to Church work rather than to Church polity whih £p' '*'^'' ^T' ^"? ^TT"^' ^'"^""'"^^ ^^ ^"« spiritual condition, InL \f ^ throughout this memoir, while no more than speci- o th. tLrj r^'T 'V "f'/re yet thoroughly just representations of the self-.scrutiny to w „ch he subjected himself during his whole int- -n 'i"'''^ '""^ °"^y ^" ^"^^ety- l»^^'^y''^nt and witty, over- tv flT '"•'"' T''^' ''"' ""''y ^'^"^ '^^' '-^"y^^ter and enjoyment, may feel surprised at tlie almost morbid self-condemnation and ex- cessive^ tenderness of conscience which these journals display still more at the tone of sadness which so frequently pervades tC' For wlnle such persons may remember how his merriest talk generally ptwsed imnor<',ei>til.lv into °amo <-rivPv ■^i-,-- ■ "^ b^i^^^'^'Y ii,a< tu^ V i -! -' v^'"" -'^mh gia\ei uicuiu— so naturally, indeed, ihAt the bsleuer could scarcely tell how it was that the conversation ' ;ifH 54 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. had changed its tone— yet only those who knew him very intimately were aware that, although his outer life had so nmeh of apparent abandon, he not only preserved a habit of careful spiritual self-culture, but was often subject to great mental depression, and was ever haunted with a consciousness of the solemnity, if not the sadness, of life. In point of fact, much of his self-reproach arose from the earnestness of the conflict which he waged against his own natural tendcnoy to self-indulgence. For if on one side he had deep spiritual affinities and a will firmly resolved on the attainment of holiness, he had on the other a temperament to which both "the world and the tlesh" appealed with tremendous power. His abounding humour and geniality had, as usual, their source in a deeply emotional region ; rendering him quickly susceptible to impressions from without, and easily moved by what appealed strongly to his tastes. This rich vein of human feeling, which constituted him many-sided and sympathetic, and gave him so much power over others, laid him also open to peculiar trials in his endeavour after a close life with God. Besides, as if to be the better fitted for dealing with others, there was given to him more than the usual share of the experiences of "life;" for he was frequently brought strangely and closely into contact with various forms of evil— subtle and fascinating ; thus gaining an insight into the ways of sm— though, by God's grace, he remained unscathed by its evil. And not only this self-scrutiny, but tlie tone of sadness also which pervades these journals, must sound strange from one generally so buoyant. The tendency to reaction common to all sanguine natures, combined with his Celtic blood, may perhaps have helped to give it the shape it so frequently takes, for the way in which he moralises even in youth upon approaching age, and ever and anon speaks of death, and of the transitoriness of the present, is quite typical of the temperament of the Highlanders of the Western Islands. But theie was an element in his own character strong yet subtle in its influence, which produced finer veins of melancholy. Tiie more than chudlike intensity with which his affections clung to persons, jdaoes, associa- tions, made him dread separation, and that very dread suggested all manner of spcculationc as to the future. He was continually forecast- in^ change. There was assuredly throughout this more of a longing for "the larger life and fuller"' than a mawkish bewailing of the vanishing present. His views of the glorious purpose of God in creation were from the first healthy and hopeful, and became one of the strongest points in his creed. Nevertheless, it served to produce a side of character which was deeply solemn, so tliat when lett alone with his own thoughts a kind of eerie sadness was cast over his views of life. The deep undertones of death and eternity sounded constantly in his ear, even when ho seemed only bent on amusement. His favourite quotation literally expressed his experience— " 1 hear the mighty waters rolling evermore." APRIL, IS35—NOVUMBFR, 1836. 65 From his Journal > " Morehi/, April 30, 1835.— I have at last returned from the Continent this morning. With how many feelings of the past do I write it ! I read over many old letters and journals, and I felt the old man, which I supposed one little year had crushed, to be as strong as ever. No, not quite so strong; but still ho was there, and I could recognise many of his old familiar features. This last year has beon quite an episode in my life ; it does not seem to chime in with the rest of the story, and yet it is a material and important part of it. " It was a dream ; its people were images in a dream, never seen before or to be seen again. Everything was, and flashed upon me. I am awake and the dream is past. ' "Hawes, Aug. 13ifA.— Spent this morning in fishing, and, after walking eight or nine miles, returned as I went. I had, however, for my guide and companion a most rare specimen of a Yorkshireman. He is the village cobbler. He and his have been here from generation to generation ; and what part of the shire is more secluded than Hawes ! We spent the time in 'chat and clatter;' and with his peculiar drawl and stories I was imich amused :— ' Ise deena believe measell what foaks sea like, boot t' watches beean in 'deals like, boot thea sea hoa there weas yance in t' time ot t' wear maebea hoondred year and mear a man wid ceart an harse ganc' i-oop bye t' Fell theare, and in t' ceart was a kist and gooald ; an t' neame ot hoarse was Ham. Soa t' driver sead, ' Che wo hoop, Ham. We God's mind or noa oop heel thou man gang.' Soa t' heel opened like, and t' keest fell een, and thear weas nought mear aboot eet ! Boot yance seex parsons were ta« oonjor it oot, and toald t' wae or 't foar leads we them to say nout; and soa they prayed and prayed teelt they gat thee keest and youked t' harse, boot yan o' t' leads said—' Gad lads ! wese geet eet yeet.' When t' keest howped oop t' heel an' weas seen nea mear.' " The cobbler once talked with a man who had gone to Kendall to see the Highlanders pass north. They had no shoes, and looked miserable ; plun- dering, but not slaying. The landlord with whom he staid had his shoes taken ofl' him thrice, by successive parties "Ambleside, Idth Angast.—l have to-day accomplished what I have long sought. I have seen, talked, and spent two or three hours with Words- woith. I set ofl" in the morning with a note of introduction by myself, for inyself. I arrived at the door of a sweet, beautiful cottage, and was ushered into a small parlour with a small librarv, chiefly filled witli books of poetry among which was a tine edition of Dante. Presently the old man came in m an old brown great-coat, large straw hat, and umbrella, and ushoied me into a small, plainly furnished parlour. Here we sat some time, talking about Germany, its political state, and the character of its inhabitants,— of the Scotch Church and the levelling system, and right of voting ; and here he read me the note from his last volume. We then went out and stood on tlie lovely green mound commanding views of llydal and Windermere. There I said to him, ' Wo are soriy that you are not a friend of Ossian.' IJns set him a-going, in which he defended himself against the charge, and saying ' that altbough self-praise was no honour, yet he thought he might 8a>- that no man had w.-ittf^.,, „iorc fr.^lingly thaii he in hi.s favour. Not the Us8i*n ot Mcrherson, which was trash, but the si)irit of Ossian was glorious; I 56 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. and this he had maintained.' He then brought his works and read many passages in the hower showing this. He said that he had more enemies in Scotland than elsewhere; that his little volume could not fight against all the might of a long-established Review— it was stupidity or envy ; but that his bock had now got greater circulation than they or it ever bad. His books must be studied to be understood— they were not for ladies, to be read lounging on a sofa. " He said that Professor Wilson was an exceedingly clever man, and that it was such a pity that his talents and energies w«re not directed to one point. On our return to the house, he said he had suffered much disk-ess. His dear sister was dead, his daughter was lying ill with spine, and now an old family servant was dying, ' but I endeavour to amuse myself as I can.' "I V)lessed the dear old man, came away; and he said he might wander into my house some day or other in Scotland. Oh, how I felt as I heard him read in his deep voice some of his own imperishable verses— the lovaly evening — the glorious scene — the poetry and the man ! "Aug. '2ith. — I received from home a parcel, and a letter from my father, who is in London about the Psalms. The event which he communicates is to me all-important— he leaves Campsie and goes to Glasgow. What are my feelings ? I can hardly express them. It is a struggle between the ideal and real ! On calmly considering it, I do think that the change is much for the better. A large family is n where in such an advantageous position for every im^^rovement and advancement as in a town ; which is also, I believe, more economical. Yet to leave Campsie ! Spot of my earnest feelings, and of the dearest associations of the happiest period of my life ! Gone are the continued presence of green fields and free air— gone the iden- tifying of every lovely spot with the bright thoughts of youthful existence, " 1 wish I could write a series of sonnets eutitled ' Influences ;' viz. : all those projections which turn the stream of life out of its course, bending it slightly without giving it a new direction. Nothing makes a man so con- tented as an experience gathered from a well- watched past. _ As the beauty of the finest landscape is sometimes marred on actual inspection by a nauseous weed at your feet, or painful headache, or many little thingf^, which detract from a loveliness only fully felt i" tht. recollection when those trifles are forgotten— so. our chief happuiess is too ofttu in recollec- tion of the past, or anticipation of the future. Now, it is knowing what the past really was, which we now recall with so much pleasure, and over which there seems ' a light which never was on sea or land,' that we are able to estimate the amount of happiness and value of the present. And I think he who does this will seldom be J' -contented ; for the miseries of Lfe are few, and its blessings are ' new to ue, every morning and evening.' " I have just returned from a pleasant walk, with a lovely sunset, and the cushats weeping and wailing in the wood. "September 15b— NOVEMBER, 1836. 59 inly to me 1 stuff and il and the thoist, Mr. fanatics to gnorant of led experi- mes more, at all. ire.' His iginal, and he Middle loreby for i church at lumberless to love her snter with •ed, I trust nstitations of Christ 1 Sabbaths ■eserve my ly, through I now say id highly ! st done for be thrown d. I shall to me it ions it has ther scenes ust I may see of the I ever met forget that study than the older ["keeping a n whatever y what is luch of our )wn to lick aen a sub- xy a stronc episcopalian spirit , they are beginning to see the use of a set form of worship. And who can look at the critical, self-sufficient faces of the one- half of our congregations during prayers, and the labour and puffing and blowing of some asi)irant to a church, and not de])lore the absence of some eet prayers which would keep the feelings of many right-thinking Christian from being hurt every Sabbath. "January Qth, 1836.— I went down to Campbeltown, and I returned to- day with Scipio and George Beatson. What were my feelings when I saw Campbeltown— aye, what were they 1 Almost what I anticipated ;— a half breaking up of the ideal. Gone was the glory and the dream— gone the old familiar faces. Everything seemed changed, save the old hills ; and it was only when I gazed on them that I felt a return of the old feelings, glimpses of boyhood, short but beautiful, that soon passed away, and I felt I was a changed man — how changed since those days ! " We were gay to our 'hearts' content :' a ball every night and breakfasts every morning, with interludes of dinners. I never received more kindness in my life. " Be honest ! In Campbeltown I forgot God altogether. If ever there was a cold, forgetful sinner, I am the man. If it was not for my peculiarly fortunate circumstances of life, I would have been a thorough-going sinner My heart is blunt; every time I fall back I am so much the worse— it quenches faith, resolution, hope. Well mav I say, ' Lord save me or I perish.' ' ' " Poor dear ! I received such a letter from him in answer to an earnest exhortation to him to change his ways. The Lord bless him ! "Is it proper to endeavour to convert a man by any other but Christian motives— prudential or moral ? I think it is. A hardened sinner must have motives addressed to him which he can feel and understand. Let this be a matter for thought. My mother denies its truth." To A. Clkrk : — " 10, Brandon Place, Glasgow, January 13, 1836. "For once in my life I am working for the class, writing essays for a pnze! Are you not astonished? Fleming gives out five or six subjects. 1 he first was on the Mosaic account of the Creation ; and I sent him in one ot eighty pages crammed with geology, which even ' the Doctor's ' (Sinclair) most scientific conversations (which used to bore you) were nothing to Fleming had the good sense to ai)preciate it; and he said privately to my tatlier that ' it had more in it than all the others put together ' But you never saw such fellows ! Some of them ojien their goggle eyes, when I dare to speculate on some of the great doctor's ipse dixits. Think of them the other day! there was a meeting in the Hall, and M'GiU in the chair to determine whether Blackwood should be kicked out of the Hall Library and sent in search of the Edinburgh Review, long ago black-balled ; Poor Maga was peppered with a whole volley of anathemas; and if it was not for some fellows of sense who were determined to give old Christopher a lift on his stilts, he would have hobbled down the turnpike stair to make room for a dripping Bai)tist or oily-haued Methodist. Oh, I hate cant-I detest it, Clerk, from my 'heart of hearts !' There is a manliness about true Christi- anity, a coaBCiousnoss of strength, which enables it to make everythint^ its own •' " • B1 n 60 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. And what are the forthcoming "The people are becoming all in all. ministers? The pc .pie's slaves or deceivers. It is, I admit, the opinion of a young man ; but I feel that we are going down hill — talk, talk, talk — big words — popularity — that god which is worshipped wherever a chapel stands. This is what I fear we are coming to — our very prayers are the subjects of display and criticism. I rejoice to think there is One who guides all to good, that the world on the whole is ever advancing in the right, though poor Scotland may, perhaps, lag behind for a season.' During the session of 1835-36 a coterie of young men, possessed of kindred genius and humour, used to meet for the interchange of wit, and of literary productions, vhose chief merit was their absurdity. Horatio M'Culloch, the landscape painter, and his brother artist, Mac- Nee; the late Principal Leitch, and his brother, Mr. John Leitch, a well-known litterateur; the Dean of Argyll, and his brother, Mr. Mac- George; M'Nish, the author of the "Anatomy of Drunkenness;" and Norman Macleod, were the leading spirits of the fral,ernity. One of the chiet ties which bound them in fellowship was the presence oJ Dugald M , poet and local celebrity. M was not without talent, and made several creditable attempts in verse; but his extraordinary self-importance, his unconsciousness of ridicule, and tha bombastic character of many of his productions made him a ready butt for 1-lie shafts of drollery with which the young Tellows who met at those sup- pers were abundantly armed.* Before the year was out they printed a series of squibs written for their gatherings. The volume was entitled, "Sparks of Promethean Fire; or Chips from the Thunderbolts of Jove," and professed to be published at Stromboli, for the firm of Gog, Magog, and Co. Tliese poems were indirectly meant as caricatures of the pompous emptiness, the incongruous magnificence, and the grandiose scene- painting of the poet Dugald. Hades and the Arctic Pole, the volcanic fires and sulphurous craters of Etna and Hecla, whales, mammoths, and mastodons, had therefore to lend their aid in the production of a jumble of astounding nonsense. Only one specimen of the volumes has been reprinted — "The Death of Space," by Mr. John Leitch, which was engrossed in "Bon Gual- tier." Norman Mttcleod contribut"d four pieces — "The Eeign of Death," "The Phantom Festival," "Professor P.oss'sf Drinking-Song,*' and "Invocation to I'rofessor Boss, whet fell into the Crater of Hecla." We give the two last. •Once at a public dinner, when the toast of "the poets of Scotlanfl, cowpled with the name of Duf,'al(l M " wan iiioposed, in teriiia which sei'iiu'il to disparnj^c the practical importance of tlieir art, Duyahl, rising in great iniHguation, (letermiiicd to give the ignonumiH a lesHou on the graiulcur of tlio otlomlcil muse. "I will toll tlie gentleman," he shouted, "what poetry is. Poetry is the language of the tempoHt when it roars thnuigh tlie crasliing forest. The waves of ocean tossing their foam- ing crests under tiio lash of the hurricane— they, sir, Hjioak in poetry. Footry, sir ! poetry was the voice m which the Almighty tliuuderecl tiirough Uio awful jieakM ye-namo he had for his very dear friend, the lato Principal Leitoh, ono of tho ihlest and best of men. APRIL, nZh— NOVEMBER, 1836. 61 PROFESSOR BOSS' DRINKING- SONO. Air — " Bekranzt mit Laub den liebevoUen Becher," mr--" The Rhine i the Rhine ! " &c.. &c. Drink, drink and swill, ye jolly old Profe«sor8, You'll find it royal stviff. You'll find it royal stuff; What though y»e wnves of ocean roll above ui, We do not care a snuff ! We do not care a snuff ! Diodati, Kent, Gleim, Mendels8(An, Swighausen, Ich bin Ihr Bruder Bobs ! Ich bin Ihr Bruder Bom ! Pass round the jorum, and with all the honours, Drink to Commander Ross ! Drink to Commander Ross I Ices I've eat in Paris at Tortoni's j Broiled chicken too in Wien, Broiled chicken too in Wien ; But who would talk of such barbaric m«M«B, Who our turns-out had seen ! Who our turns-out had seen 1 For here we dine on whales and fossil i»«mmo4k8, With walrus for our lunch, With walrus for our lunch ; We've Hecla's flames to warm our glaas of toddy, And ice to cool our punch ! And ice to cool our punch 1 See how our smoke is curling up the crater, Ho, spit and rouse its fives ! Ho, spit and rouse its tires ! Hurrah ! hurrah ! foi- Deutschland's old Professors, We're worthy of mw sires ! We're worthy of our sirea I i IMVOeiTION TO fllOt'KSSOH H0SS, WHO FELL INTO THE CRATER OF MOUNT HECLA. Oh what a grim gigantic; tomb is tliiiu', Immortal Bohh ! Tlio w>i)uichrcH which yawn For the obscuio remains of common men Wore all unworthy thee ! Their narrow bounds Dw^ll lluli]^ .1.1,. ,i: And soughtest fw a gravt? amid the vaults Of Icc'aud's belching, bellowing, groaning iMcuint. (i2 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. Stupendous walls of flame surround the now j Thy mausoleum is a hell on earth, Where spluttering bursts ot' pandemouiac fir* Shake their nule tongues against the vault of heayea. And lick the stars, and singe the comet's tail. Peace to thine ashes, Boss ! Thy soul shall tow«r, Like an inflatetl phoenix, from the mouth Of that infernal hill, whose crater wide, Like a va«t trunijiet, shall thy praises sound, What time its aahes rise beyond the moon, And blind with clouds of dust the morning star. And from thy lofty watch-tower in the sky Spitzl)orgen thou shalt see, and Greenland, wher« The spermaceti whale rolls Houndering on, And dares to combat the pugnacious shark ; The morse, with teeth of steel and snout of brass, The mighty kraken, and the ocean snake, The salamander, with its soul o<" fire. The mammoth and the miistodon sublime, — . Them shalt thou see, and with their spirits thou Shalt hold sweet converse, as they move along, Shaking the curdling deep with shaven tiiils, And drowning Hecla's thunder in theii own. And from the mountain's bosom thou shalt call The swarthy Vulcan, and his one-eyed sons — The Atlantian Cyclops — to thine aid, While thou assailest Woril 23.— After studying to-day and y«'sterdfty, I have had im evening stroll down the street. The aurora was bright and lovely — now ftirming an arch along the sky, now shooting up like an archangel's Hword over the world, or forming streaming i-ays of light, which the soul of mortal miglit d(<> I1/X.1..I .'1. «!.« u<...r... ..1... . ..-.1 :f _l._!! i._ :_• _ I u_, . i\-~, r4 -i» , ; ••• i^"-' -'Miitij nivr , .tim it ni::tii ijc jt;iricu uy a uiuUsaUU uuier birds, and a harmonious song will rise on high ! " Oh, if wo could but keep the purity of the soul ! but sense is the giant 64 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. .1 fi t ^ I \ I which fetters us and gains the victory. We have dim perceptions of the pur(> and elevated spiiitual world. We truly walk by sight, and not by " Mere descriptive poets may be compared to those who have shrewdness enough to copy the best sets of hieroglyphics, but who have not skill enough to give to them more than a partial interpretation. They deeipher enough to know that the writing has much fine meaning, which, a« it pleases them- selves, may also give pleasure to others. The reflective poet is one who de- ciphers the writing whioii he copies, appropriates its truth to himself, and makes it a j>art of his own existence ; and when he gives it to the world, he adds to it his own glorious comments and illustrations, a»d thus makes others feel like kimself. And yet the highest and brightest worJd in which the poet exists cannot l>e shown to another. It is incommunioaWe. If in his spirit he r«««!hes the high peaks of the Himalaya, he can bring none there with him; a»d should he know there are others there, the rarity of ^e air prevents any communication. " June 6th, Gourock.—Ky journal has been sadly neglected, and that too at a kme when sunshine and cloud have not been unfrenuent in mv trivial history, "^ "I finished my college labours by getting the essay prize— not much, in ti'utJi ; but I »hall not venture to express my little opinion of prizes. They a test of talent or labour— b*h ! Last winter was, however, a useful one to me. How different from the one Iwfore— hardly an ounce of the ideal, and a ton of the real. "After 1st of May I came down Ivn-e, where I staid for a short time, until I went to the Assembly on tlie IGth, when my father was Moderator. When I think of that fortnight, my head is filled with a confused mass of s|»e«che8, dinners, supi>ers, breakfasts, crowded houses., familiar faces, old acHpiainkmces, and all that makes an assemby interesting and tiresome bo one who is in the middle oi' the bustle. I became acquainted with a great many iKH)ple— the most interesting was Dr. Cooke, of Belfast— a !H)lendilo singing a psalm, an. " To-moiiow I start few the Highlands, intending, God willing, to return in a month. Into Thy hands I commit myself " FiniKiri/, 8M.— TIm' imine, which stares me in the face, alone convinces me that I am here. A^aiiiMt this I have a thousand melunoholy feelings to persuftde me that I am not. Yes, it is so : for the first time in my life, I have walke~\vlien my own days, young though I be, wore yet, ' dotlied m no mcthly light,' and haice is a thausand feet high- a stone took nine seconds to reach tiie bottom. In fine, a large whale was Bl)oiiting 111 the sea below us after a herring shoal. "3/7/ ^Sejdetaber.—Tlw feeling at i)resent next to my heart is the state ol pool', dear Mary. Her hour, I see. is not far distant. She knows this her- M 66 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. self : she expressed her fears perfectly calmly to my mother, and was thank- ful that she had got so long a time to prepare. Her patience is amazing. Oh, may God her Father, and Christ her Saviour, grant her peace and rest! "I want steadiness. O God, give me consistency in words, in thoughts; in company; in private! May I in everything see what Thy law demands, and may I receive strength to obey it. "My mother and aunt have both told me, in strong language, that I am most irritable in my tempei*, and very unpleasant. My mother told me more than this, which there is no use putting down. "I feel she is wrong, I am grieved for this because it is unchristian; therefore, under the strength of God, feel anxious and resolved to — 1. Be always calm and collected, and never talk impetuously, and as if out of temper. 2. To give greater deference to my mother; to stop arguing with her; and, however much she mistakes my feelings, still to act as I shall one day answer. " This I wish to do under God's guidance. " Clerk, MacConochie and Nairne have come as boarders. They are, I think, three as fine lads as ever I saw. Enable me, O God, to remember that I am responsible for sowing all the Gospel seed I can in their minds. Amen. " I am making slow progress ; I am sadly behind. What signifies talk if the actions be awanting 1 " Novemb( - 3rd. — I was this morning called up at five to go for the doctor for dear Mary. She was in great agony, such as I never saw before. The doctor gave her relief ; and she gently fell asleep in Christ at half past nine o'clock. " November 0th. — It is all over: we buried Mary to-day beside Janiea. They both lie near the home where they spent many happy days ; and w« laid them down, thank God, in full faith and assurance of a lalessed resurrec- tion ! "I have only to pray God Almig-hty, through Jesus Christ, that I may not only persevere myself, but induce others to persevere in the aaiue Chris- tian coui'se, thut ' where they are we may be alcio 1' " CHAPTEB VT. 1836-7. owing to the taUliant teach nrofiruSSnV/i"^ T,r^^/ men a, boarders, whose pa?4ts were Ss „, hi ZT «: H''^ of LordMeadowhank. and JaLf N^rLS Sn?urS?°t^^^^^^^ with Norman's aunt, Imfllti'' ^"'>«^™;.™3 "> Iiko manner boarded w„, in ~o«r^sp'^e: i^f\^tr^^:J^^- "°'^ "^ the Mowing interesthfg reminiscences oTtSj^; time "'^" ^'"'"'P ^"'^ personal attractions of two or three-and-twenty ^ "" "" Scoter s^rhr„t:d"Ss:;:-^^^^^ mZn?f„""l "'' '"'"'"'t'"'^ sy„,pathetie spirit hS I fa riet S g :?fT3";^;n--:S:"s£„'i'ic^ WehnTrdich'S'll"' *^'T:?"^' """ "" ""^ stimulating society of vvurnai, on which std rested the spirit o, the latoly-denarted Ooethn AH these th.ngs, so unlike the com,I,on-pl„ce uxperfc,*! „?m„°y h^' ; If I I (II K if 68 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. added to his nature a variety and compass which seemed wonderful, compared with that of most young men around him. Child of nature as he was, this variety of experience had stimulated and enlarged na- ture in him, not overlaid it. "There were many bonds of sympathy between us to begin with. First, there was his purely Highland and Celtic blood and up-bringing; and I, both from my mother's and paternal grandmother's side, had Celtic blood. The shores of Argyllshire were common ground to us. The same places and the same people— many of them — were familiar to his childhood and to mine. And he and his father and mother used to soimulate my love for that western land by endless stories, legends, histories, jests, allusions, brought from thence. It was to him, as to me, the region of poetry, of romance, adventure, mystery, gladness, and sadness infinite. Here was a great background of common interest which made us feel as old friends at first sight. Indeed, I never re- member the time when I felt the least a stranger to Norman. Second- ly, besides this, 1 soon tound that our likings for the poets were the same. Especially were we at one in our common devotion to one, to us the chief of poets. "I well remember those first evenings we used to spend together in Glasgow. I went to No. 9, Bath Street— oftener Norman would come over to my room to look after my studies. I was attending Professor Buchanaa's class— 'Bob,' as we then irreverently called him— and Norman came to see how I had taken my logic notes and prepared my essay, or other .work for next day. After a short time spent in looking over the notes of lecture, or the essay, Norman would say, ' I see you understand all about it; come let's turn to Billy.' That was his fam- iliar name for Wordsworth, the poet of his soul. " Before coming to Glasgow I had come upon Wordsworth, and in large measure taken him to heart. Norman had for some years done the same. Our sympathy in this became an immense bond of union. The admiration and study of Wordsworth were not then what they afterwards became— a part of the discipline of every educated man. Those who really cared for him in Scotland might, I believe, have then been counted by units. Not a professor in Glasgow University at that time ever alluded to liim. Those, therefore, who read him in solitude, if they met another to whom they could open their mind on the sub- ject, were bound to each other by a very inward chord of sympathy. 1 wish 1 could recar what we then felt as on those evenings we read or chaunted the great lines we already knew, or shouted for joy at coming on some new passage which was a delightful surprise. Often as we walked out on winter nights to college for some meeting of the Peel Club, or other excitement, he would look up into the clear moon- light and repeat — " The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare j Wtitt on Ht..ar! ■ :ht Are beautiful and fair." 1836—7. 69 Sother1nm!i^r'* ?"'^T\^«. ^^^ by heart, and would repeat to each other endlessly. I verily believe that Wordsworth did mwe for Norman, penetrated more deeply and vitally i«to him purifX and elevating his thoughts and feelings at their fountain-head thaf any other voice of uninspired man, living or dead. Second only to WordZ worth. Coleridge was, of modern poets, our great favourVe Those poems of his and special passages, whieh hav! since become famS to all, were then little known in Scotland, and had to us all thS m ot a newly discovered country. We began then, too, to have deaS with his philosophy, which we found miloh more to Jurmind S ?he authorities then in vogue in Glasgow College-tk* prosaic E^d and the long-wmded Thomas Brown. ^ mv ^io^I^^' ^^^'^Tf ^ whenever I took up a Scotch newspaper, if my eye fell on a quotation from Wordsworth or Coleridge, ' Heme's Norman T would say, and on looking more carefully. I would bf sure avourite 1^^ -as he-quoting in one of his speeches some of the S Homer ^T"" ^T ^°™^" '''' ^°<^ ^^^^^ '^ ^ classical nffl i i-T i Y''P'}' ^""^ ^^'^ ^6^*' were not much to him. But I often thought that if he had known them ever so well in Tscholarlv way, they never would have done for him what WordsworTh did wS rv'sir^r-f w'l^'^^r^^^ ^^^"^-^ becomea plrt r^s very self Besides Wordsworth and Coleridge, there were two other poets who were continually on his lips. Goethe was Then much to buTi ;i^ink :Z '"it "P ? ''' !^' ''''''' Weimar reminiTc"nce but 1 think that, as life went on, Goethe, with his artistic isolation grew less and less to him. Shakespeare, in the other hand then was' and always continued to be, an unfailing resource. Miny^X' D ™ Fa^^^ '' '''^ ''^i''^f' ''^'''^''^ wonderfully Ltng power, lalstaff was especially dear to him. He read Falstaff's speeches, or rather, acted them, as I have never heard auy other man the f xfold "' ' t' '^'' r^^ ^''''' '^ '^'' «^^^-^«^er, and^reprodu^ed the tat old man s humour to the very liie and deen' ' 'S 'I^f'^f'' ''°, ^'"^^' "^"'^^ °"^ friendship more rapid Kli ,f^' ^ XT "^'^ "''^ ^^""'^ """"y ^"^^^ ^onds to make a youna man take at once to Norman. To see him, hear him, converse with S was enough. He was then overflowing with generous, ardelt cont" gious impulse. Brimful of imagination, sympathy, buoyancy Jnimm drollery, and afifectionateness. I never knew any one who conta ned in himsell so large and varied an armful of the limnanities HinSf very child of Nature, he touched Nature and Imn^l b at ev^rH if noHWn ' T "''r« ^^"r" '^'^^ W'^^ without interest for Mm" nothing great or nob e to wliich his heart did not leap up instinotivX' In those days, what Hazlitt says of Coleridge wa true ohm 'He [!f«',''^^ k^^^L' ;;" ^^ .'<"-vn intimately a good many men more or ;; J"''^J'^f^»ie and un-uiul. ^ome ul tliem were stroii'^er on this one side, .some on that, than Norman ; but not one of all cSnLhied in I 70 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 'I ^ m m himself such a variety oi gifts and qualities, such elasticity, such boundless fertility of pure nature, apart from all he got from looks or culture. " On his intellectual side, imagination and humour were his strongest q\ialities, both of them working on a broad base of strong common sense and knowledge of human nature. On the moral side, sympathy, intense sympathy, with all humanity was the most manifest, with a fine aspiration that hated the mean and the selfish, and went out to whatever things were most worthy of a man's love. Deep affection- ateness to family and friends— affection that could not bear coldness or stiff reserve, but longed to love and to be loved, and if there was in it a touch of the old Highland clannishness, one did not like it the less for that. " His appearance as he then was is somewhat difficult to recall, as the image of it mingles with what he w^as when we last saw his face, worn and lined with care, labour, and sickness. He w^as stout for a man so young, or rather I should say only robust, yet vigorous and active in figure. His face as full of meaning as any iace I ever looked on, wit; I a fine health in his cheeks, as of the heather bloom; his broad, not high, brow smooth without a wrinkle, and his mouth firm and expresi;ive, without those lines and wreaths it afterwards had : his dark bro\ 'n, glossy hair in masses over his brow. Altogether he was, though not so handsome a man as his father at his age inust have been, yet a faoe and figure as expressive of genius, strength, and buoyancy as I tver looked upon. Boundless healthfulness and hope- fulness looked out from every feature. " It was only a few weeks after my first meeting with Norman that he, while still a student, made his first public appearance. This was at the famous Peel Banquet held in Glasgow in January, 1837 "The students of the University, after rejecting Sir Walter Scott, and choosing a succession of Whig Rectors, had now, very much through Norman's influence, been brought to a better mind, and had elected the great Conservative leader. He came down and gave his well-known address to the students in the Hall of the now vanished college. But more memorable still was the speech which he delivered at the Banquet given to him by the citizens of Glasgow and the in- habitants of the west of Scotland. It was a great gathering. I know not if any gathering equal to it has since taken place in Glasgow. It marked the rallying of the Conservative party after their discomfiture by the llefoim Bill of 1832. " Peel, in a speech of between two and three hours' length, ex- pounded, not only to Gl-usgow, but to the empire, his whole view of the political situation and his own future policy. It was a memorable »i)eech, I believe, though I was too much of a boy eitlier to know or eare much about it. Many other good speeches were that night de- livered, and among them a vesy felicitous acknowledgment by Dr Macleod, of St. Coluniba, of the k>ast 'The Church of Scotland.' But 1836—7. 71 flntoU^. IT'^^Z *^'*^ """^^'^r^^ ^ec^ll as not the least striking fZf n/I ?T"1^ '¥ "^""y '" ^^i*^^ Norman returned thanks forthi now Stan I'in^S^ °^ ^^'^^^.^^ ^"^"■^^■^^^^- ^ ^^^^^ I can see him blZe h^rinl r P/o^^°e«%' c^spicuous to the whole vast assem- head the Wnt 7' " ''f "'.i Wack-cock's wing, massed over his fore- mva;dl V Sfl '' °^ ^°'- ^' °". ^"' "^^''^^ • They said he trembled imvardly, bu there was no sign of tremor or nervousness in his look A. f roused by the sight of the great multitude gazing on him, he stood orth, sympa hizmg himself with all who listened, and confident S they sympathized with him and with those for whom he spoke hS tMnl Tultnf' ^^f "' "'^"f ' r^''^' ^^^^ ^" attempt to say tine things, b uU of goad sense and good taste, every word was to the point TspJech tuT? TuT. '^^"^ ^"^^^^^^ '''^ ^--^ written7g"od h.?p?nnlPn > ^°"^^/\^tl^er ^"7 Joung man tlien in Scotland could ha^ e spoken it so well. From his counienance, bearin- and rich sweet r^rbftire;'; ' p' r^^^^r^-^S ^ the e'ar than'they had when read by the eye. Peel himself, a man not too easily moved, was said W ILkri/f/^ '^ '''' y^^"^' man's^tterance, and Jo Jiave spoken ot it to his father. And well he might be. Of all Nor- armbTv nTof ^^P^^^'^^— P^f --, in pulpit, in banquet andTn T;::^l-^^:ZllZ'^:r'''''^ successful than thathrst simple "During the session that followed the Banquet, the Peel Club which XetuatX'lr""-^ the students to cari^ Peel's election, ' aTid to soifofft M Principles, M-as in full sMdng, and Norman was the soui ot it. ]\Iany an evening I went to its meetings in colleoe not he.T.tf "' ''■' ^'^ "^""^'^^ '^ ^"^'"^•^^' ^'^' t« J^ea^' the hea^ly and hatW Pl"?r"^'°'^^^''''H^'''''^ ^^^^^ ''^'''^' Norm.an animated all aid . nit ^commonplace. There are not many remaining who shaied those evenings, and those who do remain are widely scattered- snTri ef^r' ^°' i ^''^' '' '^'^ '' ^"^°"-" '^'' ^^^^^ ™d and high-' vE. f ^^'^X '^r ^°°^' P''^^'^ ^"- ^^'l^at a c«iitrast to the dull h f r« 1 .^i!:''''"^^',^ ;'^ ^^^^« «"^«« ^'^'"^ to submit to! And the thii g that made hem so different, was Norman's presence there. iiut It these first public appearances were brilliant, still more de- Sp iT .^ir*? '''^''T''^ ^^'itli liim as he bore himself in his home His father had such entire confidence in him, not unminoled with tatherly pnde. that he entrusted evervthing to him. TI e th ee SthatXt'f "'^""f ' ^"''^'^^'^ ''''' ^"^ ^'' «« d^alt with them that the tu or or teacher entirely disappeared in the friend and « t whf r !'•'"? 1- ''''' i-1-idually!^^ Each had a bedroom to himself, in which his studies were carried on ; but all met in a common sitting-room, which Norman named ' The Coffee-room.' There, when was over, or even well- college work was over, sometimes before it w^« ^.y^r, or even well- begun, we would gather round him, and wiUi story, jokts Tong readings from some favourite author-Sir TboT..n« Brnino'. ' ReW o^S:S7up"''"-"' ^""^ ""^^'^'^" ^^' poe.ry. he wouhn;4e ■m 72 LIFi: OF NORMAN MACLEOD. " What evenings I have seen in that ' coffee-room !' Norman, in the grey-blue duffle dressing-gown, in which he then studied, with smok- ing-cap on his head, coming forth from his own reading-den to refresh himself and cheer us by a brief bright quarter of an hour's talk. He was the centre of tliat small circle, and whenever he appeared, even if there was dulness before, life and joy broke forth. At the close of the first session — I speak of 1836-37 — the party that gathered in the coffee-room changed. MacConochie and Nairne went, and did not re- turn; William Clerk remained ; and the vacant places were at the begin- ning of next session, 1837-38, filled by three new comers — Eobert (now Sir Eobert) Dal} ell, of Binns ; James Home ; and John Mackintosh, the youngest son of Mackintosh of Geddes. There were also two or three other students who boarded elsewhere, but who were often admitted as visitors to the joyous gatherings in t^^e coffee-room. Among these was Henry A. Douglas, afterwards Bishop of Bombay While all these young friends so loved and admired Norman that it would be hard to say who did so most — a love which he seemed to re- turn almost equally to all — John Mackintosh was no doubt the one who laid the deepest hold on his heart. They were fitted each to be the complement of the otlier. The serious, devout, pure nature of John Mackintosh drew forth from Norman reverence more than an elder usually accords to a younger friend ; on the other hand, Norman's deep and manly love of goodness and holmess won John's confidence, while his hopeful aspiration and joyousness did much to temper the tone of John's piety, which verged somewhat on austerity. I believe that their characters, so different, yet so adapted to respond to each other, were both of them much benefited by the friendship then begun. " John Mackintosh had at that time another friend, who was also his tutor, William Burns, who soon became the great revival preacher, and afterwards the missionary to China. Between Norman and William Burns, John used to live half-way in spirit. But I don't think that Norman and Burns ever knew each other intimately, Norman's mirth seemed to Burns profanity, and Burns' rapt Calvinistic piety, that looked on laughter as sinful, seemed to Norman somewhat too severe. In fact they were not then fitted to understand each other. It was in this session of 1837-38 that the friendship of Norman with John, so fruitful in results to both, first began. He himself was then not a student, as he had received license in May, 1837, and was ordained in Loudoun in March, 1838; but until he settled in his parish he continued under his father's roof, and in the same relationship as formerly with the young men who wintered there. The Church was then being greatly exercised by those contentions which ended four years afterwards in the Disruption. Norman took a lively interest in these ; but from tlie first, both from temperament and family tradi- tion, sided with the party who opposed the Non-Intrusionists. Not that Norman was in any measure fitted by nature to be a Moderate of the accepted type. His ardent and enthusiastic temperament c-ould I 1836—7. 7$ never have allowed him to belong to the party. But in the aims and contendings of the Veto men, he seemed from the first to discern the presence of sacerdotal pretensions which he his whole life long stoutly withstood. * Before the close of the session of 1837-38, Norman was appointed to the parish of Loudoun, in Ayrshire, and ordained as its minister. When the close of our next and last session in Glasgow (1838-9) arrived, he arranged that his old friends of the coffee-room should go down and pay him a visit in his Manse at Loudoun on the first of May. The usual winding-up of the college had taken place in the morning, and by the afternoon a merry party were seated on the top of the Ayr- shire coach, making their way through the pleasant country of Mearns, in Ayrshire, towards their friend's Manse. That party consisted of William Clerk, Robert Dalyell, Henry Douglas, and myself. For some reason or other, which I cannot now remember, John Mackintosh could not join the party. It was a beautiful spring evening, and the green, burnbraes, as we wound along, laughed on us with their galaxies of prim- roses. You may imagine what a welcome we received when at even- ing we reached the Manse door. We staid there three days, or four. The weather was spring-like and delightful. We wandered by the side of the Irvine Water, and under the woods, all about Loudoun Castle, and Norman was, as of old, the soul of the party. He recurred to his old Glasgow stories, or told us new ones derived from his brief experience of the Ayrshire people, in whom, and in their characters, he was already deeply interested. AU day we spent out of doors, and a,i we lay, in that balmy weather, on the banks or under the shade of the newly budding trees, converse more hearty it would be impossible to conceive. And yet, there was beneath it an undertone of sadness ; for we fore- boded too surely what actually has been fulfilled, that it was our last meeting ; that they who met there should never again all meet to- gether on earth. There were, with the host, five in chat Loudoun party. I do not think that more than two of them have ?ince met at one time. " On the last day of our wanderings, Norman, ^A'ho had hitherto kept up our spirits and never allowed a word of sadness to mar the mirth, at last said suddenly, as we were reclining in cne of the Loudoun Castle woods, 'Now, friends, this is the last time we shall all meet together; I know that well Let us have a memorial of our meeting. Yonder are a number of primrose bushes. Each of you take up one root with his own hands ; I will do the same, and we shall plant them at the Manse in remembrance of this day.' So we each did, and carried home each his own primrose bush. When we reached the Manse, Norman chose a place where we should plant them side by side.* It was all simple and natural, yet a pathetic and memorable close of that delightful early time. *When Norman left Loudoun, he transplanted acme of these primrose rootc, and put them opposite his study windows at Dalkeith. The Loudoun Manse jonquils and favourite little ' rose de Meaux ' were also transplanted to Dalkeitli, to revive th©; same memories there as at Loudoun. 74 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. I, I " Emiy next morning we all left the Manse, and, I believe, not one of us eTer returned. It was as Norman said. We went our several ways — one to Cambridge, two to Oxford; but never again did more than two of us forgather. " Two things strike me especially in looking back on Norman as he then was. The first was, his joyousness — the exuberance of his joy — joy combined with purity of heart. We had never before known any one who took a serious view of life, and was really religious, who com- bined with it so much hearty hopefulness. He was happy in himself, and made all others happy with whom he had to do. At least they must have been very morose persons indeed who were insensible to the contagion of his gladness. "The second was the power, and vividness, and activity of his imagination. He was at that time 'of imagination all compact.' I have since that time known several men whom tlae world has regarded as poets ; but I never knew any one who c-mtained in himself so large a mass of the pure ore of poetry. I have sometimes thought that he had then imagination enough to have furnished forth half-a-dozen poets. Wordsworth's saying is well known — •• ' Oh, many are the poets that are sown By nature : men endow ad witli highest gifts, The vision and the faculty divine, Yet wanting the accomi)lishmeut of verse. ' " •Coleridge, I think, has questioned this. But if Wordsworth's words are, as I believe they are, true, then Norman was pre-eminently a poet. He had the innate power, but he want(!d the outward accom- plishment of verse. Not that he wanted it altogether ; but he had not in early youth cultivated it, and when manhood came, the press of other and more practical duties never left him time to do more than dash off a verse or two, as it i-ose, spontaneously, to liis lips. Had he had tlie time and the will to devote himself to poetry with that devo- tion which alone ensures success, it was in him, I believe, to have been one of the highest poets of our time. Often during an evening in his study, or in a summer day's saunter with him by a Higldand loch, I have heard him pour forth the substance of wha*^ might have been made a great original creation— thougiits, images, descriptions, ranging through all tljc scale, from the sublim-) to the liumourous and the droll; which, if gathered up, and put ntotho outward shape of poetry, would have been a noble poem. But he felt that he was called to do other work, and it was well th^.' ho obeyed tlie call as lie did, and cast back no regretful look to the poetry that he might have created." It may be well here to explain a feature whi<',h, as expressed in his journals, may appear strange to the reader, but is quite cliaracterislae ot the man. There is olten such a rapid passing from " grave " to " gay," and, in his earlier years, such self-reproach for indulging in things really innocent, that, in giving perfecUy iairhiul extracts, it has been found dillicult to avoid conveyiuy an impressiou of hurshuesi* or \ 1836—7. 75 unreality. There was nothing more natural to him than so to combine all tones of leelmg, that those who knew him felt no abrupt contrast between the mirthful and the solemn. But, as it might be expected trom his sensitive conscientiousness, he did not at first recognize the lawfulness of many things he afterwards "allowed himself" with- out any sense of inconsistency. It is accordingly interesting bio- graphically, to notice the difference betwixt his youth and age in matters like these, as well as the change which his opinions under- went on many political and theological subjects. From his Journal : — " Nov. 17 a lad ' is the personification of all that is dis agreeable Such a being am I, Jane ; will you shelter me ? It is too bad to occupy so much room with so much nonsense. I got on well yesterday, and now that the ice is broken, I hope to get on still better. I am to preach next Sunday in the Barony; I then go to the Assembly, and then I wish to go to Skye ^ w^llt^r/^T'^'J?' ";^'H^^,^«y' 18^'* «^«^y. 1837, Torgoil Inn-TOn a Won^HTi^i" ^\^'-^ J '"'"" '"^^ '^ °^"*«^' *^«d now again I say it in anS if t'Ip .t *Tf "! \T.^^'^^^^ ' I *''i^k I shouldbecome a mere speak to. Don t ta k about reflection-one has too much of it. The whole how far iTr"!? ^-^.fl^^^i^" "!'«« «»«'« «elf-when to rest, when to rise, how fai It is to the inn, what shall be taken, how much paid. And HereU it- ' "^^^ ^ "^"^' ""'^ ^^'^^^^'^^^ '''' ^'^ enough^to cnish it Til/.' S r"' T'""" "' J^"""'^*' ^^^ *^'« mountaiTis covered with the et mist the trees drippmg, the burn roaring, sheep-dogs crawling pa.st he door hens m the entry, and barefooted and bare-logged boys skdC 1 e in L^ 'f.*,'' ^^,r^ of a novelty, half-a-dozen chairs stuck up w I? 1 ^?"''* *^'' '^'"' ''^ '*^^' ''-^y *'^'^'«' ^^i*'' '"^ screen and a tea- not^eaiml^fL ^nf f'r'/'^r'^ ^^■"■'' "P"" *''*^'"' ^"^''''^' *« ^''^^ ^'^^ !«««*' ^o t w?rrh nf T. 1 n "•''' ^°"'"^ 1^"" ^'^^ bell, away comes a yard ot wire, but no bell rings; you strike the table, and every dog rushes out vou S in 'f ''' r^'r^ ^''^ ^I'^^^'"'^ ^^-^"^ *^'« ' ^>"V -"^ does wha you bid her do, but only when she pleases. But I must go back on my SZnllT •/^•'"'- ""^V'*'''^^ '^'' ^^"^^^"^^*« l°«k out, and was nearly guillotined by its coming down on my nock, not having observed a huge bla k peat winch lu^ beside it for supporting it on great occasions.) . . . . ^ hetvospcctn-G. I belieye I never wrote the reason of my refusing to be- bvTe of"t1f '' '"■ ^"VT'"' ^^'""''' '^^^^' I -- ^.cstedali-nluy I con.iivT";".'r \''''''^'t^'' "!>*;" tl.o acknowkdgo,l ground of unHtnoss. Lo ™^ "' r"''^' • '""*^'"-'' ^^^'^*'''^''' ^" ^•'^^'"••l to the internal gou>innient of the Church, or Us rolution to the State. How much know- ledge is required to do this proporly, and as it ought to be dono.by.un .Jl V atri^ "'' ^T ^"'""'''7 '"" ""^'>' -^^''-^^''^ --^1-^' on (in. h o m 1 f • i ^'"; ,'• '■'■^"""^ aoquiroiuonts which a clergyman requires to ht hnu tor such a pul>hc appoannice, and also for occupying that com- Z^!^r '"'I'^'r:-'' ^^^'^^''^ ''"""«^'*^ *« take, are such as no voung wXl V nT ""?•!.'" ^"'-^ •' "^'^'.'l^^^''' '^^ '♦^ ""•«* •'« >" town, by'othe? m2n/« '""^^''f .«*'" "I2!'« "^timatoly connected with his profossi/.n-an, for instance, preaching. His audience is in ueneral vo.-v h,aL w«I! u,i'..y.\.,..\ how dllllS!!.!^" ""n^" '";"'''' '^'■"^^'" ''*""■ '•""' i" ^own"'andcx,unt.y; yet how diUorout ttfu the riediu ui couuuuiiicalion ! This uboiuimiblo cuutom or 78 LIFE OF NOEMAN MACLEOD. ,^51! 1 r lu^ ^* Pr'^''*' °'""S P^^^^'^P^ *o the system of competition m Scotland both for pulpits and for churches, and against the XsLnters But the fact is, that effort, and froth, and turgidity, and an attempt after fC^!T"''' "'^ ^"^""-"^ *^Sain popuIarii;-the rultg ot^ecfof "Nay, this emptiness of thought combined with high SAvellins words arises from another cause-the necessity under which men'are laid to ~h noJ hX^^.o'm^""'^^7"-^^''^ sermons every Sunday, without their heada being so filled witii divinity or their hearts with Christian experience as to Ser VfficXs ^'^ "^'' *Tl'"? *^.*'"'^ P^«P^«- ^-^ thL and m'4 other difficulties are removed by having a country church. For my own kill me^rw'n «'^f 7^"V^'°"'P?r- ^"^" ^ *°"" '^^'^^ ^«^ld at first kill me but let me only have ten years' hard study in the country, and then Aug. 2oa-Oti. to the hills ! Oh, what a walk I had yesterday ! Never will I forget the green, the deep green grassy top of the range of precipice' the edge ot the precipice, watching the waves breaking on the rocks A white sail or two was seen far to the north on the edge of the horizon like bv"1;f bLfc ofT" ''* """.r ™-^ l;f^«-«ti"-ss of the air, broken onlv by the ble^it of the sheep, or the croak of the raven. The majesty of the pmspect the solitude of the pL.e, filled me with inexpressible deli '^'.^'''*' ^^''""^'"^g t''^^"- notes with the loud streams ami along the north a magnificent auiora boroalis, an object which ever falls mo with intensost pleasure. It makes mo feel how much mans nature is caj.able of feeling, and how the soul may bo elevated or overpowered throiigh tho external senses. How different was the last night I was hero-Fri.lay night ! What an awful galo I Whuss-ss-sh-hoo- hiss-sooo ! until I thought tho house would be down. TInen bo,its were lust ;uu. nvo peojHo. Uiie ui liiom tho last of lour sons belonging to a widow in «tialJi. Another was drowneil last year at tho canal. wmasxBsas'. ■jiMaac iv 1836—7 79 feeling "^^Pt-^f-~l have this day been led to consider seriously my spiritual state and truly jdien I remember my advantages and all God hJs done for wSi ?n "^^ \'* fJ"'^ deplorable. There are certain daily habits which for some weeks I have seen are wrong, yet where have been mv strugges to change themi How have I sho^n my faith by my worS^ How frivolous have I been! My love of the ludicrou/and of tlfeXu-d h^ daily carried me away and made me behave quite unworthy of the sobriety necessary for every Christian, far more, for my calling.^ 'Beye sobe^ Lord ! help me to keep this law. ^ -uBjcsooer. "Yet I thank God that I am anxious— yes» m my heart I say it-anxious to give up my besetting sins. ^ ttUAiuus jy^ ^°'*^,^^? Almighty, Thou who art of purer eyes than to behold iniquity, most ho y and most merciful Father, Thou seest these my confessions ^.ti''"''?* T^''*^f *^''V/'' '''''''^' Th«^^ knowest the pdde and vi3e ness of my heart. Oh, do Thou have mercy upon me accJrding to Thy loving-kindness, and according to Thy tender nJercies blot out my tran^^ gressions. Grant unto me greater diligence in using the means of™ and power to resist temptation. May I enter not iiit'^, temptation Keep me, O God, from rejoicing in anything which belongs to myself- but mav every evidence of Thy love lead me to'rojoice in Thee ulone.^ ' ^ Hkn and 1? V^ ^^'' ^l^ ""t ^''^ ^ ^"^'« ^^'^^^ ^'^^'^'«^^ *« ^^^ "Pon thk^k fW wl "" "'''" *'"-^ ^ '""^ '"°'^*- I^ ^' ^'^ --^^^f"! mistake to think that when we conquer a sin it is beaten for ever. It is indeed invin- cible-we can only keep it from conciuering us, and so overcome it. I must muST'" '^'''f"',r^ '^•""""^^' '^^^^^^^l «^^y bless them ; bTl must also push on and add one virtue to another , ^^ ^ intlS^i'mro^wi^"' " ''^ ^'"'' "*■ "^^^^'-^ ^ ^ P-P<>^-- - I - ever had "'^''^' ^''' ^*^'' ^ ''"'' ''"' "^ '^'^ "'^'^^ .lolightful excursions I from^n'lv'"''-^ "^ T' ^^'^'^ ' "''^'''^ '^ "^^^ ^°<^ «^«™'ng ^hen I rose rskv Lul the ^n I'f''T''!^^' T^- A few palo stars werf to be seen in the skj and the ruddy glow m the east which told of the sun's approach ZdTn tt r 'IV' fV '"^' --!>* towards the east. I cou .' ee no doud m the sky. A lew light, airy wreaths of mist hung on the Coolins ri' Wo T """":? '"^ " ■'-"^' ^^''^"'^''^^^ ^'^' « •'Strong saw acro^ tk- f ? md llnvi ; • W/ T °"' ""^l: '**''' P"^'*'^'^'"^ «*■ ^' substantial break- t> St and providing tor the .himer. 8oon the east became most beautiful- clou,ls, fringed with brightest gold feathery borders, ami in nioreCinact niasses gathered round the sun a flaming retinue; and soon he o.Hmed an eye in heaven a.id pcn-ped over the oast<:rn hills and thrust forth his' 'golden horns.' And the tops of the Coolins seemed tipped with «old and he .hadows became more distinct, and light glittered on the admser Te tS L w . TT'"' '^r T^'- """. '"""' ^^«''^^«' -''"^ their Zt. and tackling wore in cl-ar relief against the burning sky and waU^v The effect "Away we went, and as the sun imt. hir^J-".. ..r,,! },.•-.},.._ ..- i-fx ^i i • , T^^^T'"" ''^" Sligaclmn. Wlu.t;rglen T'wiii; IL inimI^S:^fk «t Coolm on one si.lo. and on the other tho sugar-loufed Marsoow. (M so ll^ifi LIFjE of NOBMAN MACLEOD. " But get on ! at three miles an hour, hardly a path, and now in the centre of the glen, five miles from any house. Stand ! and say what is Glencoe to this ! A low range conceals Coolin • but see the high peaks appearing beyond, and up that corry what a mighty wall of jagged peaks is spread along its top ! But Blabheinn, which is close by, is unsurpassed. It appears a great trap dyke, about a thousand feet high, with an edge above, cut and hacked in every shape and form. Bare, black to the top, apparently not a goat could stand on a yard of it— I question if a fly could. And there the lovely little lake at its feet is ever condemned to lie in its shadow. But, having left our horses at Cambusiunary, we ascended by a rough road to a pass, from which we obtained a view of Coruisk. The ascent was difficult. Wilson being a lad walker,, I was up nearly half an hour before him— besides, I wished to behold Coruisk alone; and as I ascended the last few blocks of stone which intercepted my view I felt my heart beat and my breathing become thicker than when I was climbing— for I had rested before in order to enjoy the burst undisturbed— and a solemn feeling crept over me as I leapt on the crest of the hill, and there burst upon my sight— shall I attempt to describe it] How dare 11 Around me were vast masses of hypersthen",, and the ridge on which I stood was so broken and precipitous that I could not follow its descent to the valley. At my feet lay the lake, silent and dark, and round it a vast amphitheatre of precipices. The whole Coolins seem (1 gathered in a serai-circle round the lake, and from their summits to their base not a blade of verdure but one bare, black precipice, cut into dark chasms by innumerable torreats, and having their bases covered by debris and fallen rocks. Nothing could ex- ceed the infinite variety of outline— peaks, points, teeth, pillars, rocks, ridges, edges, steps of stairs, niches— utter wildness and sterility. From this range there are gigantic projections standing out and connected with the main body. And there lay the lake, a part hidden from our view, be- hind a huge rock. "There it lay, still and calm, its green island like a green monster floating on its surface. I sat and gazed ; ' my spirit drank the spectacle.' I never felt the same feeling cf the horribly wild— no, never; not even in the Tyrolese Alps. There was nothing here to speak of life or human existence. ' I held my breath to listen for a sound, but everything was hushed ; it seemed abandoned to the spirit of solitude.' A few wreaths of mist began to creep along the rocks like ghosts. Laugh at superstition for coui)ling such scenes with witches and water kel])ies ! I declare I felt superstitious in daylight there. Oh, to see it in a storm, with the clouds under the spur of a hurricane, raking the mountain suunnit ! ' ' The giant snouted crags ho ! lio ! How they snort and how they blow I " ' Ach, (lie langen Fclsennascn Wie sie schuarcheu, wie sic bla8en|!' "I shall never forget my visit ! It will fill the silent eye— the bliss of solitude ; it will come ' about the boating of my heart/ and its wild rocks may be connected with moral feeling and 'ti-uujuil restoration.' 'The tall rock' milV THIISH * tn llM.Iint nif.~lh've I am once more in my old study Was It a dream Nature nc-ver app,>ared more lovely; never in youth did 1 hail her with more rapture-uever did I feel ' the tall rock haunt me more like a passK)n, " Noo. Unf.-l have got the parish of Lou.loun. Eternal Go.l T thank Ihee through Jesus Christ, and, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, I devote myself to Thy service for the advancement of Thy glory anil king- " These words I write this day the moment I hear ot my appointment. • The name of one of the parish churches of Morven. 6 I- llil 82 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD, I again solemnly say, Amen. I have got a parish ! the guidance of souls %t heaven ! I shall at the last day have to tell how I performed my duties- part of my flock will go to the left j part, I trust, to the right. I, their pastor, shall see this ! I am set to gather lambs to Christ. What a re- SDonsibility ! I do not feel it half enough ; but I pray with all my soul, heart, and strength that the Great Shepherd may never forsake me. With- out Him I can do nothing ; with him I can do all things. "Oh, my Father, my kind and merciful Father. Thou who art my Creator and Preserver and Redeemer, I this day, before Thee, declare my willingness to make my soul and parish part of Thy everlasting kingdom. Accept of my deepest thanks for Thy kindness until now. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost be with me untU the day of my death ; purify, strengthen me, and give me from the infinite riches of Thy grace power to be a faithful minister and to turn many people from darkness to light. Into Thy hand 1 commit my soul ! " I had an address, a kind address, from Darvel, in Loudoun, to-day, which gave me much encouragement. I feel an affection for the parish already. May the Lord grant in His mercy that I may go for the promoti ing of His glory," CHAPTER Vll. EAELY MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN. "T OUDOUN'S bonny woods and braes," among which he was to JLJ spend the next five years of his life, stretch in picturesque variety for about six miles along the banks of the Irvine Water. At the lower end of the parish the towers of Loudoun Castle peer over the thick foliage of the surrounding park, while at the other extreme Lou- doun hill, rising in bold solitude like another Ailsa Craig, closes in the rich valley, and separates it from the dreary moor of Drumclog. On the recommendation of Dr. Chalmers, Norman Macleod was asked to preach at Loudoun during the vacancy caused by the death of the previous minister, and the Dowager Marchioness of Hastings, widow of the celebrated Governor- General of India, who was then patron of the parish, resolved, after very careful deliberation, to present him to the li'/ing. He was accordingly ordained as its minister on the 15th March, 1838, and entered on his new duties with a humble and resolute heart. He was but a short time in the parish before he saw that he had difficult work before him. The population numbered upwards of four thousand, of whom a small proportion were farmers and farm-workers, and the rest hand-loom weavers residing in the large villages of N"ew- milns and Darvel. Both farmers and weavers were of a most interest- ing type. Not a few of the former were Covenanters, and some were on lands which had been tenanted by their families since the twelfth ccntuiy. The traditions of Drumclog and Bothwell Brig were still freshly repeated at their firesides, and swords and pistols that had done service against Claverhouse were their treasured heir-looms. The wea- vers were of a totally different stamp, being keen politicians, and as a rule, advanced radicals. Their trade was being gradually extinguished by the great factories, and the men were consequently poor ; but they were full of enthusiasm, fond of reading, and had that quaint intelligcpce, strongly coloured with self-conceit, which was characteristic of the old race of Scotch webstcrs. Most of them were keen Chartists, some vio- lent infidels, who, with Tom Paine as their text-book, were ready for argument on any question of Church or State. The morality of the parish was at the same time very low, and vital godliness was a rarity. While living in lodgings at Newmilns till his Manse should be ready ), f 84 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. : m for his reception, he was shocked by the amount of profanity and coarseness which met eye and ear, as well as surprised at the keen interest taken by the people in public questions. Political debate seemed to be carried on at every corner. The groups gathered here and there in the street, or the crowds clustered on the " Green " round a tree, under whose branches a village di.i-va^,\;guo -'as haranguing about the Charter or the Corn Laws, displayed air»,'X(:itement which is usually reserved for a parliamentary election. There was something hopeful, however, in all this life and stir, which, notwithstanding its association with scepticism and religious indifference, did not fail to impress his mind. The work in which he iirst engaged was careful house to house visitation, recording as he went along the circumstai) jus of every family with great minuteness, and his impressions of individual char- acter. He at the same time opened classes and organized a Sabbath s».hool ; and in order to meet the case of those who excused them- selves from going to church at the ordinary hour of worship on account of having no suitable clothing, he commenced special evening ser- vices. He made also a determined stand for the strict exercise of church discipline, beheving tliat, if good for notliing else, it would at all events serve to raise the tone of public opinion as to the character of certain sins which were too lightly regarded. This energetic action of the young minister excited at once hearty sympathy and hearty opposition. The church was crowded, and he was soon encouraged by learning that his labours were not without effect. On the other hand, the Chartists were not a little suspicious of the growing influence of the 'Tory" clergyman — although he meddled little with politics — and tlie semi-inhdels were thoroughly roused into opposition. Some of the most violent of these two parties would have put an end, if they could, to his evening services, and at- tended them for the purpose of creating disturbance. One Sunday he bore with the interruption they gave him ; on the nex'.; he remonstrated ; but this failing, he turned to the people who had come to hear him — told them that he had undertaken extra labour for their benefit, and added, that if they wished him to go on they must expel tho.s- who disturbed him. He then sat down in the pulpit. After a pause, a number of men rose, and ejected the intruders. This firmness served greatly to strengthen his influence in the parish: those who had scoffed loudest came to appreciate his earnestness, and not a few sceptics were among the most sincere of his converts. Among other means employed by him for reaching the more intelligent of tlie would-be pliilosophers, who stood aloof from Christianity, he brought his pre- vious study of natural science into requisition, and gave a series of lectures on geology, wliich by their eloquence, as well as ])y the amount of well-digested information they contained, told with great effect. In this manner he gradiially bpoame master of a difficult position, and won an enthusiastic attaclnnent from the parishioners which has never declined. EARLY MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN. 85 There were two dissenting churches in the parish, with whose ex- ceUent ministers, Mr. Bruce and Mr. Eogerson, he maintained a life- long Iriendship. One of these congregations met at Darvel and con - sistedot Covenanters avowing a refreshingly stern morality, and com- bining with It articles of faith, especially in reference to the observance ot the feubbath, as quaint as they are now rare. He had thus extremes Irom Covenanter to Chartist, to deal with ; and between the two many amusing phases of character presented themselves to his observation On his first « diet of visitation " at Darvel, he called on an old pauper woman who was looked upon as a great light among the Covenanters VVhen he entered the house he found her grasping her tin ear-trumpet (tor she was very deaf,) and seated formally in the midst of a group of neighbours and co-religionists summoned to meet him. Unlike his other parishioners she did not at first acknowledge him as minister but, beckoning him to sit down beside her, and putting the trumpet to her ear said, ''Gang ower the fimdamentals /" and there and then he had to bawl his theology till the old dame was satisfied, after which he received a hearty welcome as a true ambassador of Christ In contrast with this type of parishioner, he used to refer to a well- known Chartist, who lived in the usual little cottage consisting of a hut containing the loom, and of a heii containing the wife. Met at the door ot this man's cottage, by the proposal, tiir.^. before proceeding lurther they should come to an understanding upon the " seven points " he agreed to this only on condition that the pastoral visit should first be received. Minister and Chartist then sat down on the bench in tront ot the door, and the weaver, with shirt-sleeves partly turned up and showing holes at the elbows, his apron rolled round his waist, and a large tm snuff-mull in his hand, into whose extreme depth ha was continually divmg for an emphatic pinch, propounded with much pompous phraseology his favourite political dogmas. When he had concluded, he turned to the minister and demanded an answer In my opinion," was the reply, "your principles would drive the country into revolution, and create in the long-run national bank- ruptcy. "Nay-tion— al bankruptcy!" said the old man medita- tively, and diving for a pinch. " Diy— ye— think— sae ?" Then briskly, alter a long snuff, « Dod ! I'd risk it !" The noAvet^. of this philosopher, who had scarcely a sixpence to lose, "risking" the nation lor the sake of his theory was never forgotten by his companion. About this time a Universalist, noted for his argumentativeness, resolved to hecldc the young minister. Macleod first questioned him on the precise nature of his belief in universal salvation. "Do you really assert that every person, good and bad, is saved, and that, how- ever wicked they may have been on earth, all are at once, when they die, received into glory ?" '• Most certainly," replied the man. A great and merciful Father must forgive every sinner. He is too good not to maicc ail His creatures happy.'' '* Then why do you not cut your throat ? " Cut my tliroat !" exclaimed his astonished visitor W 86 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. # i * 1 •' I have duties to fulfil in the world." " Certainly ; but it seems to me that if your views are right, yoUr highest duty is to send e-^^ery one to heaven as fast as possible. On your principles every doctor shoiild be put in jail, and the murderer honoured as a benefactor." The effect of this argumentuni ad ahsurdum was not only to convince the man of the extravagance of his beliefs, but to lead him shortly afterwards to become a communicant. His frank, manly bearing, his devotion to his work, and his tact and skill in dealing with every variety of character, rendered his personal influence as powerful as his pupil teaching. Yet the work seemed for a long time weary and disappointing. He often returned to the Manse so utterly cast down by the conviction that he was doing no good, that he would talk of giving up a profession for which he did not seem fit. It was only when he was about to leave the parish that he fully saw how mistaken he had been in his estimate of himself. The outburst of feeling from many of those whom he had looked upon as utterly in- different, and the thanks heaped upon him for the good he had done, surprised and humbled him. It was not till the last week, not almost till the last Sabbath of his ministry in Loudoun, that he was in the least aware of the extent to which his work had prospered. With several families in the neighbourhood he enjoyed the most friendly intercourse. Among these were the Craufurds of Craufurdland and the Browns of Lanfine ; but the home which, for many reasons, afforded him some of his happiest, as well as most trying, hours was Loudoun Castle. Nothing could have exceeded the confidence which the venerable Countess of Loudoun and her daughters, the Ladies Sophia* and Adelaide Hastings, placed in him. They not only honoured him with their friendship and brightened his life by letting him share the society of the interesting people who visited the castle, but they also accorded him tlie privilege of being of use and comfort to them in many trying hours in their family history. His domestic life at this time was of the freshest. His Manse was pitched on the summit of a wooded brae, beneath which ran the public road, and behind it lay the glebe, with a sweet burn forming a seques- tered and lovely liaiujh. His natural taste for flowers ripened here into a passion, whicli was in no small degree inflamed by an enthusiastic gardener, whose hobby was pansies and dahlias. Often on a summer morning, early as the song of the lark, might the shrill voice of old Arnot be heard as, bending over a frame, he discussed with the minister the merits of some new bloom. A pretty flower-garden was soon formed, and a sweet summer-house, both destined to be associated, in the minds of many, with the recollection of conversations full of suggestive ideas as to social, literary, or religious questions, and enrich- ed with marvellous bits of humorous personification, and glimpses of deep poetic feeling. Soon after he went to Loudoun, his sister Jane came to reside with •Afterwards JMarehioneaa of Bnto. »> '1 oa^as MHHH i^ARLY MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN. 87 him, Md continued for eleven years under his roof, his very « alter ^EL f ^'' ^^^^^ *^"«^^^' possessing his inmost love and con- hdence, and exercismg the best influence on all his feelings His Sir' iV' '^'i^ ^""'^ ^'^°^' *^^ ™°™^"g ^nd forenoon to hard ttn frmn i ^f '7'' 1 °^''' ^ J?""' ^^"'^"^'^ '° ^^ ^° P^e^e°^ distrac- tion from outside objects. His studies were chiefly theolo-y and general hterature, his sermons being often delayed till late In the week _ He devoted the afternoon, and frequently the evening to Cn 'f .r''^' '/P'.?^t^5^ ''^^'^ ^^^^^"^g among the farmers, ";vlo ollowed the good old Scotch habit of hospitably entertaining t e nmister when he went to their houses. These kindly meetincrs_h s nX '/'''^'' "' ^^,? '^^^''^ them-gave him an excellent^oppoi- tunity of becoming well acquainted with each household in the "land- sW ir^fh! ""^ ^'T''}'^ '^'^' ^^ ^'°°'^' ^^'^ «^e"i»g« were usually spent m the enjoyment of music, in reading aloud, cfr in playing a game of chess with his sister. Highland "pibrochs, and ?eels fnd baehc songs, al ernated with such old ballads as " Sir Patrick Spens '' The Arethusa," « Admiral Benbow;" then came snatches of German song some Weimar-recalling waltz of Strauss, or the grand sonatas of and It ':f "'''' ^}' ^'l ^'f ^^^^^1^^ '' '''^ ^l^"'' Shakespeai^ ancl fecott, and especially such characters as Jack Falstaff and Cuddv the " oS T'" ! ^■^y,?^"^,^ ' ^^d ^« at this time Dickens was issuing the Old Curiosity Shop " and " Barnaby Eudge," nothincr could ori^nfli'v'^"'*^'"''"* f "'.^' "^"^ ^^'^ "f ^^'^ «tory of Little Nell or Iff I Z ""^r^- • , Wordsworth, however, was his chief delight, and few days passed without some passage from his works bein^ elected for meditation. But in the midst of aU his cares and stud es^ he retained not only a boy's heart, but a love of boyish fun% fS ^'n't^lX ^^f ^ ^"^ '^'^ ^"^"^' ^^^ Jo^^^ Campbell, of Ki laloi-f who had been at sea most of his life, came to spend a winter w'th him, the two friends used to indulge in many a sailor pivank from the sheer love both had for the brine. The dinner-bell was rigged up as on shipboard, and at mid-day Sir John struck eight bells arsoleZly fvn n 1 Tf ^'"^ i?> ^' '^'''''"'^- Tlien Norman, suddenly emer<.in^ from his study, would greet him with a run of sailor lingo, and voice° gait, countenance, the rolling of an imaginary quid in liis cheek be-' came thoroughly nautical. A sham "observation" was taken and after a hearty laugh the door was shut, and he returned to hard ;tudy These Ave years at Loudoun were the very 3Prin"-time of lii^ mimstenal hfe. FuU of romantic dreams, and ovorCfug S. 1 ope- lul enthusiasm, he seemed ^ lAlany a conviction was then formed, which afterwards germinated into of £ t,T °" '''I ^'T\ '^^^^ ""' ^"« '''''''-' '^'''^'' and many a 1 ne M.n^P^f ^'fT ^^'^' determining his after course. That swee? JeJvTat t' bnf ' Tf fr^'"^ of the parishioners, shed to the veiy last a halo, as of first love, over "dear, dear Loudoun." "To hear hia days before him, and tJie tumult of his life." 88 LIFE OF NOliMAN MACLEOD. From his Journal :— "Dec mh 1837—1 preached last Sunday at Loudoun, and I believe fttrmptecl ''■ '"^"'^ ''"'"'^ ^'^ ^'^^"^" *^^* "° ^«*« ^^1 b^ mr-^r^'r^ ^''•i«l'«^^^,^. '^''"^^"^ ^''>^^^' 1^ o'c^oc^-'The year is wan- ing. In an hour, 1838 will have arrived. Let me think ' " This very time five years ago 1 was with dear James ! Yes, dear bov 1 lemember you. I believe you are in heaven. Are you lookin- upon me now, Jamie 1 Are you looking with anxiety upon me, and longing to see me obtam the victory and be Avith yourself and our dear sister in heaven a ong with our l^eloved Saviour ! By His grace that victory will be obtain- l-ii . : ^ t7^ vovyed to fight, and in God's strength I shall conquer. I we .] nil ,1? ?' 't i"" '' ^^'. 'Tf yesterday, to-day, and for ever. Dearest, we ^lall d meet. I know it. I believe it. Lord, help my unbelief ! the tlt'l-e S" ' '''°''^' ^ """"^"^'^ ""^ 'P"'^* ^" '*^'1^1^^"^ ^"*^ "Jan 14neath the hands of the Presbytery, I was by (jod'a assistance enabled to devote lumrtily my £oul and body to the service of mv purisii, which I trust may bo accepted." ^ To the Jlov. A. Clkkk .— "Newmilns, March 25, 1838. T r"^, ^'"t °»"^«'"«\* !>«»•« "" the ir)th. Y..,. Know what an awful fhiny it is I fee! .HH )f the weight of those hands w*, «tili upon my head, crushiug .ua ^ EARLY MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN, 89« with responsibility But it was a delightful scene. Never was a more un- ammous a more hearty welcome, and with real good-will was my hand fuS me T i'f'"",f"''^''' *°i^' P^"P^^- ^^'^l^^k (Barony inti^ Once nT;w,v/ T" ^"^"^ ""^ ^''* ^"^'^""' '^^^ ^'^ ^« ambaiadur«/ Once or twice nearly overcome; and this day I have preached twice I have been then in the parish a week, have been over it all, viS each day from ten till five; and what do I think of it? Why, tl at 1 1 in a ernb e state-very terrible ! Its population is four thou and. The rm-al ib le nfll '"i^ ^'^T'''^^'; "'^^ «° ^« Darvel-because there a most ac rr mtis er r k nd-hearted, frank, godly man, a C.^ovenanting mimstei, has been, who goes into every good Avork with heart and soul and li ir "' %Tn ^'fr-- ^"* N«™lns! What a place! I am 'now hitr'N ''^'' ^"^-"F- ^ ^^ acquainted with%.he real state of things. Never, never was there such desecration of the Lord's Day: dozens peontTd ?ea S I;^"^"^ '?"* ^"' '''^'^^ '^ ^^'^^^ ^^ insulting the people and tearing neither God nor man. A large proportion of the nonula, Uon are born before marriage ! The mass of the^^itll are sent to work £ IhorM 7. '"'' T^' r^ "' '" ^'^" ^''''' '''' ir-lependent of their parents. In in a drptff'rf ^''^''^r'' "^'^ ''^'^''''S '-^^^l Sabbath-breaking, the village ^ Parl^an I'f f ~T^'^"^ -^"^ ^''''' "^''^y «^ ^^1 Ther; is in alftle most iXhtfid T r"\ ""^..^'f'^^ ^'f 'Sion. The Hastings family are the I^sSnd witf tin ''^^^ ^ ^""^ ^\'''' ^' ^" "^y ^^^'^ '>«>"*'' '^"<1 *!»« time 1 spend with them is the happiest in the week. I do love them. But what g yen me a deep-felt conviction of my utter inability to do anvthing ( \t to o I .f Tol i'l^' ^f ^ ^'" "'''' ''^^* *« "''*«'^» t^'« "'««»!« in m'.- power ei^rt and ri'- ^ ^''' ^? ^"'^'''^^^ '^«'^">^ ^^ l'^i^''^t« and pub ic. to aS aVfn T ' rr^ 'P't *,'^" *"'*^^' ^ '''^^« '^''•^•'^''^■^ ^''«ited a good deal mus'tl tl ir 1^11 ;•' I^T''"'.^ '"?•• ^ ''"^ ••^* «^'^ ''"''^ -"*« tillnine-I r^ll „r ,1 •. It ^ '"" *"* *''^ ^'''I^"«'^^ "f '"y l^'^"«J' J fto"' that till ten I wm on Z7 . ! '^'^'l" "P°" Wednesday famil/visitation in this villa,.. 1 will onlv attempt two days a week, and two hours each day; but I mu^t anuputastoijtotlus monstrous wickedness. I will ne.xt ye,)r catechise As lai as the law will pernut me I will go-and furtlun- if I ,.an I n„ hJTt f > 1 '-'n''" 'T'-^ *'"' Canu-ronians, and there every family nm it. 1 can Imnll y make it as y,.t a sim qwi non for baptism but I will very nearly do it, and soon J think I shall. I have onlv ,ur eld rs Tl e t"^^:^ S:f b tl^ i!'^ o<,.n„.„nu;ants; it is, of cou../ cZS. \h ^ to abouH >00 a ^ nl'^V'l '^'''r ''''''''''■ 'r''" assessments amount He ri i;";.':';"; ^l"; ^^^'" *'~r^* ^ i"'^>'' ^^^ <''"'«^'« ^^^e. that of tl J ^ 1 ' » X '";' "' ^^ *" '''""«^' *''" *-■""••«« »f the H,.n as the hearts of this people Hut what a l.eart I have my.self ! Oh, my .lear friend vou know me w(>!l. you will help mo. will ...n not wi*»- v-'--r --r - ' '• f your aUvico?" ' ' "" ' " ' " ^""^ i^fajcio anu with lii LI '«0 LIFE OF NOEMAN MACLEOD. From his Journal: — "My Manse is very beautiful. I am making many changes in the grounds. The birds are beginning to sing. 'TJioy are busy in the wood;' and it calms me td sit in the woods and listen to them — for if God is so kind to them, and fills them with so much happiness, I feel assured he will never forget a minister in the church of his dear Son, unless he forgets Ilim. " This is the first day I have fairly begun work in my parish. I studied from five to nine. Visited T P . He seems dying. He was the first sick person I have ever visited. I spoke to him by himself; found him, I think, indilFerent. He admitted the truth of all I said, but I could not get him to close with the ofl'ei's of Clnist. It is my delight and com- fort to expatiate on the fulness and freeness of the Gospel without money and without i)rice ; for I find, as I did with P , that they will not ac- cept of Christ without bringing something to Him. And while they are willing to say that He is a Saviour, they will not say He is their Saviour. I spoke to him as solemnly as 1 could, urging him to accept Christ as he was, and to come to Him as he was — even as he would have to answer to God! " March 2Qth. — A. M , a perfect specimen of a deist — at one time an atheist, at another a deist — knowing nothing, believing nothing ; harsh, im- petuous, proud, prejudiced, yet believing himself candid — a difficult man ; yet had two children baptized. I spoke an hour with him, but it is like combating the wind. I promis(>d to send him books. [Yet this man afterwards became a communicant, and is, I hope, a sincere believer.] " '3rd April. — Since my oj'dination I have been busy in the parish. 1 find kindness and attention evcirywhcre I go, — down from that dear Hastings family to the lowesL on the poor's list. "Sunday, June \Qth. — Last Sabbath I entered my twenty-seventh year. Another year nearer the grave. . . I rejo'"ce that many love Thee on earth better than I do, and tliat the angels in hc:wen adore Thee in suitable ways. I rejoice that thou art glorious without my aid. I thank God that any man being converted to Christ would rejoice me, and that, from my soul I say it, 1 would do so though it were not through my instrumentality. I thank Him for the longings He often gives mo after bet*^er things, and for the love with wliich He often fills my soul for Him and for all Chiist's dis- ciples. I thank Him that during the last year Ho has showered down on me innumcrultle blessings. *' O God, Tliine eye has seen me write these things ! Omnipiesent ! I rejoice that Thou knowest the heart. 1 have not one thing that I can plead — no faith, no repentance, no tear.'?. A sinner I am. But oh, God, I will, in opposition to all the temptations of the flesh and coirupt, hard heart — I will tlirow myself, with all my stn-ngth. in simplicity and, \ trust, in godly sincerity on Christ, and Him crueilied, and say this is all my sal- vation and all my desire, "June 7th, 1838, Louilonn. — I am very happy here, ami I believe I may say that I and the jK'oplo are the Viestof friends. I never r<>ceiv(Ml greater civility — the very voluntaries came outside their doors to shake hands with me. The church is crowdeil to siitlbcation — stairs aiul jtassages, and I never use a scrap of paper. I liave an odd congregation of rich and poor, h>rds, imiif'H, tihii |iaii|>ei'g j but till tiiuutiVti. I Htu uitttU rriglileued when I think of my mercies. f £AIiLY MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN. 91 Jiim 2Uh.—l have had to-day, or this evening, much joy and much hurail- ity. A woman tokl me that I had been blessed for the good of her soul, and given her joy and peace; and I think she gave evidence from what I saw ot her that she is a true believer. She gave me likewise five shiUincrs for any religious puqiose. She will and does pray for me. I wept mu'ch at Uiis proof of God s ove. I-that / should be made such an instrument. But blessed be God's name. He may make a fly do His errands. He is good and gracious-and oh ! I hope I may save some ; I pray I may bring some toChnst, for His sake. May I be humble for all God is doing for me ! His blessings crush me ! May they not destroy me ! May Christ be magnified m me !" " j j To a Friend : — "Loudoun, Septimher20, 1838. " Your mind is a good, strong, vigorous one, but you are inclined to in- ■ folence You require the stimulus of society and of external circum- stances to go on your course. You are more of a sailing ship than a steam ».nip-the power which propels you must come from without more than h-om within. You are well built, have fiimous timber, a good compass, good charts; but you want a 'freshening breeze to follow.' You must then louse younself ; set every sail, and catch the breeze you have. You have r.>anv things to stir you up. You have a noble moral experiment to try— the rearing immortal souls. It is no experiment, thank God ! It is certainty, If the right moans are used If you do not study, you are gone. I beseech you I implore of you, my dear old fellow, do not give up study. Beware of backsliding; beware of descending. It is a torriblv acc(>lerated motion! beware of the fearful temptation of thinking that vnu have had sufficient evidence of being converted, and that as tlie Elect never are lost vou mav take some o».se in Zion. This is not too much for the wi.ked heart of maii to conceive. Remember, wo must grow in grace— we must ever fight if we are to obtain the victory. Christ waits to 'see of the travail of His soul ' Let us not auench the Spirit.' The demand will boar a proportion to the work done 1 thank you very much for what you .said to me. It has d.'arod up the mist a little. You are very right about not .so,.king too much or evidence. 1 feel its truth. We are so anxious to be safe nR.n-ly-more than to be holy. I am by no moans satisfied that I hav., been i-o'ally con- verted, trom ray natural constitution I am liabh, to bo doooivo.l My feoling|S bo.ng easily o.voitod to good as well as bad, I am apt to n.istake an exci od state of tho tooln.gs for a holy state of the heart ; and so sure am I of the docoplK.n, that when m an ..xoited .sJato rogarding eteinal thin-s I tremble, knowing It is tlu, symptom of a fall, and that I must be more earnest in prayer. Solf-cufidonco is my ruin. I d.rplv f.-el, or rather I am cloai y conscious, of a dreadful coldnoss rogarding th- having of souLs I have seldom a glimpse of true love for a soul. It is an awful confession, but It IS true. Oh this body of death! this soul-killing, tins murch-ring T n . .'"• '''^'*'? '"" ^'"' '^^^'yP*'"" '^"■ItiKH«(! with, jinvthinir T i-an ever reaKonahlv ex|)ect to have in this world, 1 consider myself fixed for life, be it long or I EAMLY MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN. 93 short. Long I do not expect it to be. I am not made for long life. I feel every Sunday that the machine svifTers very considerably from fi-iction. " 21th July. — I had a strange day of visitation. I was called in to see a man who had a few hours before been struck by palsy. On Sunday he was at the Lord's Table ; to-day he is dying. He was in •>. half stupor. He recognized me, and said, in a low voice, with half-,-,iuit eyes, ' 1 rely solely on the merits of Christ, and him crucified ? I hope my anchor is safe within the vail ! I hope so ! Came home at dinner time, and while I was waiting for dinner, I went across to see M , whom I had seen yesterday. I found him alone, and weaker and more breathless than when I saw him last. I sj)oke to him of Chri.st, and besought him to close with the oifers of salvation. I prayed for him earnestly, beseeching Christ to accept him. When I wai done, he took my hand — * I thank you,' he said ; ' p — p — pray for me in private and in public on Sunday, if I am alive.' As I took his hand, I said, ' Why, now, can you not take Christ as you take me? He is stretching forth his hands, refuse Him not. He is *11 sufficient, can give you all you want, and beseeches you to take. And what, M , if you are dead before Sabbath? What if you do see Christ? Would you like to see Him and his Apostles?' I then sent for his daughter to sit beside him. I came home and fell on my knees and prayed for him, as he desired. I came to my room. A sudden scream was hea\d. His daughter had just arrived. Hoi' father was in eternity ! How awful ! Oh, may God stir me up to greater diligence and zeal ! Into Thy In, ids I commit my soul and parish ! " Newviilm, Jan. 2, 18.39. — I am getting on here .slowly, but, I trust, iiurely. I continue visiting regul.'ir y, and tind it of much benefit. I am enabled alway.s to commence it by ]»iivate prayer, and to lay the difterent cases before God on my return. Yet it is always mixed with prodigious formality, hypocrisy, and vain glory. Infidelity is getting rampant, and it was not known to have had so extensive a hold in the parisii till I came here. They read Paine aloud to a ptii ty ! I grieve, yet I have no fear. Fear is the child of i* heism. ' The people imagine a vain thing. The Lord will hold them in derision.' There are six things which I hope may be blessed, as useful instruments for doing goon — a new church ; second, ail eldership ; third, an infant school ; fourth, piuyer meetings; fifth, cate- chetical diets; sixth, an evening Sabbath class for young men; and I should add ten-folil greater strictness in giving admission to the ordinances — 'professing faith in Christ, and olxMlience to Ilim!' How much is in this ! yet to this Ave must come, and by God's grace I shall come, if but one child is baptised in the year. Think only of a man asking baptism for a bustard child ; ho was a communiniiit ; and when I asked, * who was the Holy Ghost?' he answered, ' 1 believe he was a man !' " I was at the assembly. I art., for a wonder, getting modest on Church politics, and begin to believ wi.'tt I often feared — ^'nit I know nothinj^ about them. Yet like all \\\^, > m< 'iijfnorant, I have g('t a superstitious dreai^ i>f something being wrong abou.. Ihu decisions of the High Side. All the old liands are alarmed, the young only ure confident. A anioke was my only arj^uuient !" i[ {1 111 94 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. Tc Jiis Aunt, Mr;,. Maxwell:— ..t . ., . ' "Loudoun, ^/»77 22, 1839. " I have just been looking out at the window. There is a thin, transpar- ent mist along the bottom or tlie valley, with tue tjps of trees appearine above It and above them the sky is calm and blue; the shrubs are all burst- ing into lile, and the birds arc busy in the woods furnishing their manses with no bills but their own, There they go ! Whit-ee whit-ee tni4u-e-e chuck- chuck-tirr tu-e-e-hrr tui-tui roo-too. If my i^oor motlier heard them she would say that they would hurt their backs, and tliat tliey were overwork- ing their system. There is an old thrush opposite the window who will sweat himself into a bilious attack, if he does not take care. The old fool, I suppose, Avishes to get married, or he is practising for some weddinc^, and is anxious to know whether or not he remembos all his old songs'" My blessings on their merry voices. They do one's heart good. How exquis- itely does Christ point to nature, linking the world without to the world within ! * Behold the fowls of the air!' Yes, let us behold them ; they are as happy as the day is long; they have survived r. dreary winter witliout any care or anxiety— and why? 'Their heavenly Father feedeth them.' How comforting the application, 'Am. ye not much l)etter than they^' Yes verily; nearer to God, dearer to God ; His children, not His birds. ' Behold the lilies how they grow i' There they a -e, tinder my window in hundreds; and yet, a short time ago they were all hid in snow, and now Solomon is outdone by them in beauty. 'Why take ye liiought for raiment]' God that gave the life, can give the meat ; He who gave the body can give the clothing. He who takes care of birds and flowers, will take care of His own children. ' Wherefore do ye doubt V He knoweth we no d those things ; if He does so, if He cares for us, why should we care ? Let us seek, first? His kingdom and riglitoousness as the way to it ; and God, who cannot lie, says, All these things shall be added unto you'— 'added'— given over and above. Oil ! that we felt that the best and only sure way of getting things cf tliia world was first to attend to the tilings of another, then we would take no disquieting or unea.sy thoughts about the future. Each day come:, with its own cares, which need no increase by adding to them the cares of the next. 'Sufficient, indeed, is each day's evil for itself, and with each ( ay is strength tor the cares of that day, though no strength is promised to rjlieve us fwjn the additional cares we gather in from the morrow.' How few receive the real ]»ractical benefits of these truliis — these precious promises; and whv? They do not believe that their interests are in safe-keeping in God's hands. They do not permit Him, unreservedly, to choose their inheritance for them. They have 'exce])ts' for the moment. You see the efiects of i)reaohin-' three sermons on Sunday— I preach a fourth on Monday, * "My fatlier talks of going to Ireland in ten days; if he does, I go with him. Everything goes on well in tlie parish— lots to 'ou left for the Islo of Mist— we for 'the sweet Isle of the UABLY MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN. 95 Ocean,' the green, the chaming Emerald Tsle. The word was given 'Set on and on we went, splash, splash. A noble boat the RaprI We sailed as on a mu-ror-ocean reflecting the loveliness of the stars, the youn ' moon the Craig of Ailsa, and my face ! We left the blue hills of Arran sleTS InTnl^nrbr: ''' "''' '' ''' ^^^^^^ '-^' ^^ Lamlast lliS Keired Jri nir.' f'l^^^^f '"^^ "P,*° ^'^^^^* ^'^ Tuesday morning, a oi ani tilwf , \ ''''^ "T^ *" *^^" ^^"°^' ^'«^™^^ ^"^ Clerk got a 0^ and set ofi for Lisburn; from that to Loch Neagh, Lord O'Neife's made a lon^ '''T^ "? ^^'' f^""''^ '''^'^' «'^«^''«- 1 attended two days mac e a long speech, and heard most heart-cheering tidin-s of mv Irish everv man wonfr"^' f 1 f f f'^ "^^^ P^^^'*^' ^^"^ ^'^'-^^ ^^«^* *« nothing by every man, Avoman, and child he met. They utterly confounded him He Vt hat 6<;; IS that you are carrying through ? Is it the A])i)?onriation T^iJl or the Emancipation Bill V « Dad,%er honour,' said pL ' H Siei tt one nor yet the t'othei-, but a better Bill than'either -t the oZgrBm ' wretfhedXes'^;i ;T 1' "'''''^''f' '' ' '''''' "^^"^ ^^'^ ^^^^ - ^ P- ^f i^Ls ' Who ,; t T ^^H"'"^""""- *" '^'-•'S after him, but no stock- ings. Who made your shoes, friend?' said Norman. 'He did not tike iwS 1" ?"• • ' Trl^' ■^•"•.'"'""^•' '^^ ^^"^ -* ' b"* I-k at m^lto k^ (S' bTifT' ^ ''^*^"f the bare skin-' My own darling mother's stockings. oniletme LVif t^u !'' ' '' ' ^^ ^^^ "^^"^ ^^^^^^- "^^^^^ — T'o his Sister Jane :— "With my eyes ualf-shut can I write thee? With a halo round the candle can I write thee ? ' Yes !' cried Ilodorick. ' And g^ivrmy loT .id rin ml bonn^r 'Tf ' ^^ f ^ ^'^ "^>^ '^"'^^^ ^^^ |iveh7a ;£w o mt in my bonnet ; and show her also my coat; aj^d my t?ouse«." To the Eov. A. Clerk :— "We had a grand soirh in Glasgow fur a Congregational library I made a hornd too of myself, ,-... stuck in my speech. "No one aw t k.t h t r^^^H^^ ^* was a splendid .Wr.'«. iJl h.tctlem. How can a man speak in an atmospl^re com,,osed of ormaf ^ tL ™T' \f'" ^'■^^•''•'"^ ^ ^ ''"''' I *'^*^'' ^'' be a sort ot' Ei-angX /Vo»i his JorRVAL :— - theC\Z'oh^3\^{ ■ i" ; ^^"'^''^ l*"«oyism, while it is eating the vitals of the Umich o Lngl,u,.l, has made no advances in Ireland of any consequence It IS too much like Borne. I I.avo a iiorror for I'useyism I fearTt^a of more danger to religion than Voluntaryism. Wo are 'nryet Ifvc u tho importance of tlu* controversy in Scotland. " Thank God for our Scottish Reformera. They lived fiir, far ahead of m LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. ! f their age. Th. position which they occupied was highly scientific. I do think that the y Jhurch of Scotland, from her doctrine, worship, &c., is of atl Churches the b st fitted to grapple with the spirit of the age. She cannot be reformed. We are skinned down to essentials— so much the better roor Ireland :' Poor for what ? Nothing but the want of principle. Of wiiat avail is \\ to put a maniac in a palace, a demoniac in a church ? Thev endeavour to jform men by putting better coats on their backs. A man must have hel taken out of himself before he can be said to be out of hell "2ndAugi t, 2839.— We had a most delightful Communion Sabbath, quiet, beautiful, and solemn I never witnessed Anything moi' " Rory* mv ciude fourteen notorious drui' t not think all negligent but himself. I was forced to ex- fiom the communion this year who were open enemies, ards, and such like ; but God forbid that I should exclude any man who has i othing in his external conduct which is inconsistent with his 5 3ing a Chnsi n. Bad habits are the only true test. "My fathe preached on a lovely summer's evening to about three •< .lousand peopl- in the tent.t Not a sound but of praise, and the voice of the preacher. _ " Dec. 23rd (the anniversary of Ms brother's death).— I think I may defy lime to blot one all that occurred in December, '33. That warm room : the targe oed witli the blue curtains ; the tall, thin boy with the pale face and jot olack speaking eyes and long, curly hair ; the anxious mother ; the silent steps ; then the loss of hope. The last scene ! Oh, my brother, my dear, dear brother ! if thou seest me, thou knowest how I cherish thy memory. i es, Jamie I will never forget you. If I live to be an old man, you will be tresh and blooming in my memory. ]My soul rejoices in being able to entertain the hope that I shall see you in heaven ! What days of darkness and ingratitu.'e have I spent since I thought I was God's ! Omnipotent God, J^ather ot mercies, shield, buckler, and strong tower to all Thy people take me to Thyself; keep me, save me; but oh ! never, never, I beseech Ihee, leave mo to myself, until I join all Thy children in heaven. " Bless the Lord, O my soul, and be not forgetful of all His gracious benefits I" ^ FROM LINES TO A SLEEPING SISTER. * * # * Yet meekly yield when thou must drink The righteous cup of human sorrow ; For jiatient suffVing is the link Which binds us to a glorious morrow. ♦ * # # Jan. m, 1840.— Tins day received tidings of Lady Hastings' death. 1 feel my loss. A chaui is broken which bound me with others to the parish. She was a det'jily affectionate and most captivating woman I le- ceived^he following letter from Lady Sophia, J written just before her • His cousin the Rov. Rorlerick Macleod, in Skye, who waa notorious for hit strict exercise of ecclcsuistical discipline. t A sort of covered pulpit put up in the ouen air. from rvhifh the cler'"'m.an pi-eauhes when tiie crowd is too great for the church. ""^ : Aftervvards married to.Iohn, .Second Manjuess of Bute, and mother of the pre- •ent Lord Bute. Iho marriage ceremony was performed by Norinan Macleod i BARLY MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN 97 for fear :L tlL nT"flL^o7 afe"^^^^^^^^ -" be at rest; but incapable of fulfilling my duty imrdhtJv f "n^'^"- "^^ ^^^^ "^'^^k; me there may be no delay, as you Lstr^^^^^^^ wz-ite this now, that my . father died, he"^ desifed his riS hand ■"' toko out yourself, should my brother not haveCSjl „I tT,-* '"'" ""^ '"«'* twelve I was at Kelbuxne." ' P^'''^^"^' winter's morning, and by ro the Rev. A. Clerk, Aharacle :_ " I am very hapDv hove +1,^ 1 .i, , , " January 2B, \m. made a great change to me. I assure";on7irnrf ""'"' '^^'"^^ Hastings has more sincere sorrow than this I 1" ceived tJ' " ''''"*' ^'^^^ S^^en me day mornmg that she was near her e d f ' ^"'' ^* ^^^^^ "P«^ ^^"i" jou know what a sickening thfn.l is n be o. l "^T /"^^^"^P^cted ; and was requested by Lady Sojhia hastantit to IH^^ '''"^^^ "^^S- I her lather's hand from the%ault S t n/^^ ^"^'l g«t was lu tlie dreary place whoro 1 ,? f • ^ \* ^'^ *'''''• ^^ ^^--^If an hour I J^ady H. beside me. W ^ I eo^tr'^J/l"?/' ^' '"»^' ^ was standing wth "-"hlering coffins and ' weepin'tCir l^H "' '' f'''' "^«""' ^he .^"iging bu.ls_for a robin wa sin-nZ Le^v '' ^'"'1"^ "^^""""^ -«d was glad to be with the dear yom^hdZthl^l T' '^^ '^^^^ '^'^"king. I wore all aloi.e. Tliev havp l.oT * x, ^^'^ ^'"'* ^'^^^ of tbeir m-ief fhev vemainat Loudoun 1^ t^LTto'';Tv^^ T"^^^^ *"^'" T 7 present. «'^^' *° «"^y- Lord and Lady H. are here at is d^^^",;:^S.J ^" P^^^"^^^'^ ^- - wrong. The high party From his Jouunal :— sigbt I have ever yet wit, e^edl" det r,^;^,lT'T "'P- """ "'Ancholy - -^ um not pioiLKs mniiolity ' ' --^^tif^ vaidt-sa uud dead. j ! 11 98 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. M been about a month absent in bad health. He was evidently dying of consump. tion. He was greatly emaciated, but could converse easily, and seemed to be able to express himself with clearness. I had heard of his having avowed infidel sentiments, and I knew his brother to be one of the baser sort, filling up all the degrees of blackguardism between a poacher and a blasphemer. C spoke freely to me of his opinions, if opinions they could be called. He had met with some of the lowest kind of infidel pro- ductions ; his whole idea of truth was distorted. He seemed to doubt the existence of God, the immortality of the human soul, everything which could influence him as a responsible being. I saw him repeatedly. I sat with him one or two hours at a time. I read the Bible to him, gave him the evidence in detail, and, by his own acknowledgment, foirly answered all his objections ; but in vain. He was calm. dead. The very question did not seem to interest him. Every warning, every invitation, was to him alike. His features changed not ; he was neither pleased nor ang. y ; and yet he knew he had not many weeks to live. He was the most terrible instance I ever saw of the evil heart of unbelief, hardened through the deceitfulness of sin. I have seen him for the last time to-day ; he was a breathing corpse. Death had stamped every feature. He bent his eye on me as I entered, and motioned me to come in. I gazed at him for some time with inexpressible feelings. There he lay, an immortal being— a ■nner going to meet his God, after having again and again rejected a Saviour. I prayed with his wife, and one or two who were present. I then went to his bed. I said, ' Before I go have you nothing to say ?' I wished to give him the opportunity of expressing his fiiith in Christ, if he had any ; but he lifted up his skeleton hand, and panted out, ' No, no ; Both— nothing !' As I mite this his soul may be taking flight. May God have mercy on him. " How often do I speculate about wi-iting books ! I have thought of three ; I generally think over a chapter of one of them ;when I have°noth. ing else to do." His sister Annie, who had been for some months seriously ill, and was sent to Loudoun for change of air, became at this time rapidly- worse, and expired in his Manse. " September 5th, 10 o'clock. — I have this moment returned from the next room, after seeing my darling sister Annie expire. She had suflered much for three days ; but her last moments were comparatively tranquil, at least, those who have seen people die said so ; but I never saw any one die be- fore. We weie summoned to her bedside suddenly. When I came, all were there. I prayed a short, ejaculatory prayer, that our Father would take His child , that Christ, the dear Redeemer, would be hers. My dar- ling died at half-past nine. " Darling Annie was loved by us all. She was a sweet child ; her face was beautifully mild and peaceful. She had the most gentle, playful, peace- ful, innocent manners, with feelings singularly deep and strong ior lior age. Her sen.sibility was painful in its acutcness. She was liko a delighLfui presence — " ' An image pay, A thing to stoitlo and v^h^u^.' EARLY MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN. 99 She was a sunbeam that gladdened our path, and v^e were hardly conscious of how lovdy and how evanescent a thing it was until it disappeLT Her innocent laugh is still in my ears. Dead ! Oh, what a mystery 'It was J: r'rat^r.i^"^^^^^^^^^ <^-«^' I k-lt at my old cha^Jd ^IZ Jesus, tnat telt myself human once more, and as I gave vent to a flood felt again! "" ^"' '" "'"*^'' '^^ ^^^"^^^ ^^ «°"^ --« r^.ll^^l J'J^Pi^^her 16«A.-IJpon Friday the llth dear Annie was buried I look back upon the week she lay with us with a sort of solemn joy I was a holy week. The blessing of God seemed upon the house. May wait veiy impressive day. Mr Gray, Jack, and my father and I, went tie lier from Glasgow to Campsi Our old friends met us at the entrance 0? Len noxtown. It soemed but as yesterday when we had in mournftZrot^ passed up that path before. The hills were the same. The same shadows seemed chasmg one another over their green sides as had ofte^ fiS me Jith happy thoughts m my young days. Yet how freshly did he te^t ZTt T '^''''> ; ^^' "^«"^^t-"^« «hall depart, and the hiul be remoS but My kindness shall not depart from thee, Either shall the coven^nlof My peace be removed saith the Lord that hath mercy on Thee ' Thk reheved my oppressed heart. I felt that amidst all the changes abound me God, and God's love, were the same yestevday, to-day, and for ever m^; a glorious tbmg is Revelation! -Christ diedf'and iL ag^n ' ' He ^^^^^^ for us.' 'He rose as the first fruits of those who sleep"' There is m^re wis.bm,moi^ comfort more to heal, soothe, elevate the^piri of man n these facts than m all that the concentrated wisdom of mL coil offer." To his Mother : — <« T 1 1 , .„ , " Loudoun, 1841. catiull^fl ',f ^ r'" '''' ^^^°^' '^'^'^' "^«' t'^i« ^"^ter very busy edu neaitliancl spnits I have hnished the second visitation of Darvel and miS o; s'fl \ '^'^"* "^"'"^ .^'""'^''"^^^ people-since I came ti the paiish On babbath week our service begins at twelve, an.l /rom ten till h ilf past eleven I am to have a Sabbath School, which I hope wZ brattemled by SIX hundred children. Thus, between ny school in tirmornW I sermon at mid-day and at night,' I will be able to prc^^^^^ in my parish Is not this famous ? I have, besides my old \Velesda" The fan V f fl^i \^ t^'fl, ^ '^" ^^^^ ^^'''^ tl'»-«"8h the prophecies. tnA ^T'lY ^ '''"''t "'^'^'^^ ''^''^ ^^^^«"g "^y scholars. This seems hard work, but I assure you I am taking it veiy easy There is ilif Tl I ior time than I do for eternity. People talk a great deal of st tf aboit ministers work, or rather they talk a great deaf of stuff then Ives I vvould do more, but quality and not quantity is what I wish - ' you how much idle t mn T ].:,vr> u^..;a^. ...„ii.;.,1 _. , , T . "" •.->... iinj iiiLji vuninie oi tiUiiinn^n dJiows you wliat a luxurious dog I am. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V // {/ A ^ 1.0 I.I \ur: 1.25 »;'!!M 11125 !.6 1.4 6" ^ VQ '/I ^^^ /a » ^'j^- )^ ^^ .^ f?^ 1/ vj HiotogiBDhic Sciences Corpordtion i\ #^ 4>^ «[v 33 WtSt MAIN STRUT WIBSTIRN Y 14580 (716) 673-4503 <^ .^^ ^^. (/a 100 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. \:\ I' i«l rl M \4 "I kave just mentioned my starling! You never saw a more beautiful bird ; and he goes flying about the room, and sits on my head, and eats out of my hand. I am teaching him to speak. "I wrote Lord Hastings a very long and earnest letter about the church, but have received no answer. I shall do my duty, and use every lawful means to get a church for my poor people, come what may. "Thera is a book I wish you would order for your Reading Club — Dr. Payne of Exeter's Lectures on the Sovereignty of God. It has revolu- tionised my mind. It is a splendid book, and demonstrates the universality of the atonement, and its harmony with election." From his Jocenal : — "July ith. — I went to Glasgow on Tuesday to meet two sons of Sir Robert Peel's Fine lads, fresh with honours fiom Harrow. But I men- tion this fact to show how unsettled my mind is, for it upsst my good thoughts — I mean, mftde me neglect the means of grace, and so I got for a day into my old way. God forgive me! I look back on the last month as to an oasis," In sending the following letter. Principal Shairp writes:— '•'AH the remainder of his time in Loudoun I kept up correspondence with Norman from Oxford. Those were the years from 1840 to 1844, when the Oxford movement reached its climax. Often, when any pamphlet more than usually striking came out — No. 90, and others — I would send them to Norman, and would receive from him a reply commenting on them from his own point of view. That, I need hardly say, was not in accordance with the Oxford views. It was not only that he rejected the sacerdotal theory on which the whole m«vement was founded, — not only that, as a Scotchman and a Presbyterian minister, he could not be expected to wel- come the view which made his own church ' Samaria,' and handed himself and his people over to the 'uncovenanted mercies;' }>"t I used to think that neither then, nor afterwards, he ever did full justice to the higher, more inward quality of Newman's teaching, that those marvellous 'Parochial Sermons' never penetrated him as they did others. That sad undertone of feeling, that severe and ascetic piety, whicii had so great a charm for many, awoke in Norman but little sympathy." To John C. Shatrp, Esq., at Oxford :— •< 2'jth March "Well, what think you of Pusoyism now? You have n-ad No. 90, of course; you have read the article on Transubstantiation — you have; road it! Great heavens! Is this 1841? I have drawn the following conclusions from this precious document, and from Newman's letter to Jclf : — "L The articles mean nothing. " 2. Any man may sign them conscientiously, ')o he Calvinist or moderate Romanist, only let him not oppose them openly. " 3. No Oxford man need go to Komanism citlu-i to adore (doulia) im- ages, or i)raiH(i tlio Plossed v''irgin, or got a lift from the saints, or gratify himself by doing works of peuuuce — he may get all this in a quioi way at Oxford. } EARLY MINISTRY IN LOUOUN 101 " 4. The Anglican system and the Popish system, as explained by the Council of Trent, are 'like, so very like as day to day,' that, but for a few fleeoy clouds of no great consequence, a Catholic mind would never see the difference. " 5. No. 90 is a dispatch to the Popish army to send a few moderate battaiions to support the Anglican Church in its flank movement to the left from the corps d'armee of Protestantism. " And what is all this to end in 'i " The formation of an Anglo-Popish Church, independent of the State 1 " The consequent breaking up of Church Establishments ] " The formation of two Churches— a moderate Episcopacy connected with the State, and another, 'the Anglican Church,' by itself] " An accession to the ranks of dissent % " The strengthening of Popery, and the battle of Ai-mageddon '«" NOTES AND THOUGHTS FKOM READING, THINKING, AND LAUGHING. " Loudoun, November 1, 1840. " Under the influence of one of those whims which sometimes act upon me like a breeze upon a vnndmill, I this Saturday night, 27th February, 1841, open this book (being at present, with the exception of whatgoeth be- fore, as yet empty, albeit it is called a Book for Notes and Thoughts), for what reason I can hardly tell, except it be : " 1. The wish to put on record a strong suspicion I now begin to enter- tain — viz., that I have no thoughts which can stand inspection, better than did Mouldy or Mr. Forcible Feeble, the woman's tailor, before Falstaff". " 2. To ])ut to tne proof one of those sayings which men believe, like 'great laws,' that a work begun is half done. We shall see." f "June, 1841. " On the Salv\bility op the Heathen.— That no soul is saved except through the blood of Christ, and that no soul is saved without belief in Christ, are not equally true propositions ; for, if so, all infants would be damned. Now, as all admit that infants may without faith (of which they are incapable from their age) be saved by having the benefits of Christ's death imputed to them, so, for aught we know, heathen, who are incapable of faith from thoir circumstances, may have the benefits of Christ's death in the same manner, and so their natural piety will be the effect and not the cause of God's showing mercy to them. We preach to such because we are commanded. God may raise a sick man by a luuacle ; but our dut • is to use the ap])ointed means." "A day of fasting for the sins of the Church has been api>ointed by the General Assembly to bo kept on the 22nd of June, 1841. I fear some will ■uld to its sin by fathering the most heinous faults upon those who oppoBo them in Church politics. One rule, I think, should be Btrictly kept to in [1 102 LIFE OF NOBMAN MACLEOD. H i< determining what are sins — viz., those upon which all Christians will agi'ee. There may be disputes about facts — e. g., as to whether the Church is covet- ous or not — but there should be no disputes as to whevher that is sin or not. This rule would exclude confessions anent patronage, intrusion, &c. The Church should have drawn up a form of pi'ayer, and of confession — a unan- imous one. The sins I consider as being the most marked in the Church at present are : 1. Covetousness — only £20,000 from the whole Church for the cause of Christ ; not £20 from each parish ! 2. Too much mingling of the Church with the world ; not separation enough. 3. Schism among Christ- ians, and wrong terms of communion. 4, Strife, bitterness, and party spirit; a want of charity and love ; a not suffering for conscience-sake. 5. Too much dependence on externals, acts of Assembly anent calls, &c. "The Church visible is to the Church invisible what the body is to the spirit — the medium of communication with the external world. As the body without the soul is dead, though it may look life-like, even so is the visible Church without the invisible. The Presbyterians. I think, legislat- ed too transcendentally for the Church. We forgot how much we are taught hy visible things. We did not sufficiently value symbols. Popery makes the Church a body altogether. We forget too much that there is a visible Church ; they that there is an invisible. "As for Church government, I always look on it as a question of dress, ot clothes — orj rather, of spectacles. What suits one eye won't suit another. What signifies whether a man reads with the gold spectacles of Episcopacy or with the silver ones of Presbytery or with the pinchbeck ones of Inde- pendence, provided he does read, and reads better too with the one kind than the other, and does not blind himself with the goggles of Popery ? Though I hate schism, yet I do think that different governments arc ordered in the wisdom of God, who knoweth our fame and remembers we are dust, to suit the different conditions of man. One man is born with huge venei-a- tion like a ridge on his head, ideality like hillocks; another with neither of these bumpS; but in their stead causality or reasoning like potatoes, firmness like Ailsa Craig; another with combativeness, self-esteil. The voices of the dead are heard, and thoir forms crowd around you. No EARLY MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN 105 \ sleep can bind them. The night seems the time in which they should hold spiritual commune with man. The future, too, throws its dark shadow over you — the night of the grave, the certain death bed, the night in which no man can work. And then everything makes such an impression on the mind at night, when the brain is nervous and susceptible ; the low sough of the wind among the trees, the roaring, or eerie whish of some neighbour- ing stream, the bark or low howl of a dog, the general impressive silence, all tend to sober, to solemnize the mind, and to force it from the world and its vanities, which then seem asleep, to God, who alone can uphold and defend." •' A holy mind is like Herschell's large telescope, it sees by its great power heavenly truth much more distinctly than an unrenewed mind can, and also many others which are altogether unseen and unknown to others. But by the same enlarged powers which enable it to see the glories of the heavens, is it able also, nay, cannot choose but see the dust and filth in the atmosphere of earth ; let the instrument, however, be removed to a higher and purer region, and then it will ' see cl3arly, and not as through a glass darkly.' '* Is the gift of saving faith the gift of a telescope — a power to see truth;^ which are unseen by the common eye ? or is it the removing of mists and clouds that conceal truths, which but for those mists may be seen by every eye? " Noveniber, 1841. — Kead Arago's 'Treatise on Astronomy.' It is very simple. " I sometimes like to fancy things about the stars. May there not be moral systems as well as physical 1 Moral wholes or plans ; a portion of the plan being carried on in one world, and another in >inother world, so that, like different pieces of a machine, or like the different stai-s themselves, the whole must be put together and examined before the plan can be under- stood ? The world may be a moral centre ; the centre being the cross ; from which moral radii extend throughout the moral universe. Physical space and moral space have no connection. It used to be an old question how many angels could dance on the point of a needle ; but it had a glimmer of wisdom too, for it arose from a feeling that spiritual things bear no relation to space. May there not be moral constellations %" MUSIC. "Irish Music. — My father once saw some emigrants from Lochaber dancing on the deck of the emigrant ship, and weeping their eyes out ! This feeling is the mother of Irish music. "It expresses the struggle of a buoyant, merry heart, to get quit of thoughts that often lie too deep for tears. It is tho music of an oppressed, conquered— but deeply feeling, impressible, fanciful and generous iieople. It is for the harp in Tara's Halls. "Scotch Music. — A bonny kssie with her plaid, reclining in some pastoral glen among the braes of Yarrow, and waking the sleep that is among the lonely hills Avith some tale of love, domestic sorrow, or of ' the flowers of the forest, a' wede awa'.' I • 106 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. MS Hi If 'I " Highland Music. — The pibroch ; the music of the past and gone, of lonely lakes, castled promontories, untrodden valleys and extinguished feuds, wUd superstitions, and of a feudal glory and an age of romance and song which have fled on their dun wings from Morven. It is fit only for the large bag-pipe in the hall of an old castle, with ihuds of wind and the dash of billows as its only accompaniment. " It is deep sorrow that is checked by lofty pride from breaking. " ' Let foemen rage and discord burst in slaughter. Ah then for clansmen true and stern claymore ! The hearts that would have shed their blood like water, Now heavily beat beyond the Atlitntic's roar.' '' German Music. — The music of the intellect and thought : passion modi- fied by high imagination. It is essentially Gothic, vast and grand. It is for man. The shadow of the Brocken is over it ; the solemn sound of the Rhine and Danube pervade it. It is an intellectual gale. " French Music. — A dashing cavalry officer on his way to fight or make love. " Italian Music. — A lovely woman, a Corinne, breathing forth her soul under the influence of one deep and strong passion, beneath a summer mid- night sky amidst the ruins of ancient Roman grandeur. It is immensely sensuous. " Spanish Music. — A hot night, disturbed by a guitar. " American Music. — ' Yankee-doodle.' " " December, 1841. — I am much mistaken in the signs of the times, if an episcopal era is not near for Scotland's ecclesiastical history. To form an Episcopalian Church quoad spiritualia, we have, 1st, The old and respect- able and unchanged Episcopalian families of Scotland. 2nd, the lovers of fashion more than the lovers of God — the families who spend a portion of their time in London, and who like a ' gentlemanly religion.' 3rd, The rich merchants, who wish to wear the new polish, and to look like old State furniture ; who, by buying country-houses, by marrying into good families, by getting hold of a property with an old title, and by joining an old form ■of worship, labour to persuade the world that they never sold timber or sugar since they supplied the Ark witli these commodities. 4th, The meek and pious souls who love to eat their bread in peace, and who, weary of the turmoil in our Church, flee to the peace of the Church of England, which seems to reflect the unchangeableness of the Church invisible. 5th, The red-hot Tories, who fly from disgust at the Radicalism of our Church. " The only checks I see to this tide, which I fear will set in for Episco- pacy, are : 1st, Puseyism, which treats us as heathen, and will tend to disgust, 2nd, That the Church of Scotland is the Establishment 3rd, That unless Episcopacy is endowed it cannot advance far. 4th, That if it attempts to get an endowment, we must checkmate it by trying the same for our churches in England, and we would do more harm to Episcopacy in England, than they can to Presbyterianism in Scotland." "The infidel and the superstitious equally disregard the authority of •evidence. The one disbelieves in spite of evidence for the thing rejoctad ; |i i'i. I EARLY MINISTRY IN LOVDOUN. 107 the other believes, in spite of the want of evidence for the thing received. Hence Popery and Infidelity are so closely allied. Submission to the authority of evidence is the only safeguard against either. " Sabbath mwning. — I put some bread for the birds on the window, and thought if God made me so kind to birds, He must be kind to His own creatures— to His own children. By-and-by two chaffinches came and fought for the bread, and one was beaten off; and yet there was abun- dance for both. Alas ! how many who are richly provided for by God thus fight about the bread of life, rather than partake of it together in peace and thankfulness. The robin is eating, but with what terror ! picking and starting as if an enemy were near. Thus do Christians par- take as if the Lord grudged what He gives— as if He would not rejoice that they took abundance." " The best consistency is to be consistent to one's self, by acting every day up to the light of that day. To be governed not by any fixed point ah extra, but by the conscience ah intra, which will vary its judgments with every change of our position. The traveller who guides his steps in relation to one object, such as a mountain, who wishes to keep always at the same distance from that, may, indeed, keep moving and apparently advancing, but he is travelling in a circle round the one object ; but he who is guided by the path will always be changing his relative position, and every step makes him inconsistent with the scenery ; but he moves on and on, and advances into new countries, and reaches his journey's end. " Know thyself, and be true to thyself ! Thou art in the way of truth. " The only consistent mariaer is he who steers by the compass, though he is drifted leagues out of his course." " If Christ did not die for all men, how can it be said that God willeth all men to be saved ? Can He will any to be saved for whom there is no atonement ? " If Christ did not die for all men, in what sense is He said to be the Saviour of all men, thoiigh specially of those who believe 1 " If Christ did not die for all men, how can all men be commanded to believe ? What are they to believe ? Is this not inviting to a supper in- sufficient to feed all the guests if they came 1 If it is said ' God knows they won't come.' I reply, this is charging God with conduct man would be ashamed of If He died, and they may, yet won't believe, this is moral guilt, not natural inability. It is the guilt of the drunkard who cannot give up drinking ; not the guilt of the man without legs who cannot walk, which is no guilt at all." " Sin, like an angle, does not become greater or smaller by being produced ad iiifinitutn," " It is a pleasing thought that there cannot be different kinds of minds, as there are different kinds of bodies. Bodies have no type of perfection, to which they are in ii greater or less degree contbrraed ; no normal form after which they are modelled, their degrees of penection depending on the near- nfMs to which they come to this model. The zoophyte, or the liydra polype, ! »| 108 isr nt . w v^ LIFE OF NOHMAN MACLEOD. is as perfect an animal as the elephant, as its parts are perfectly constructed in relation to the end it is destined to fulfil in the creation. But it is not thus with mind. It has a type— an image ; and i hat is God. And to this image it must, whenever found in a right state (one according to God's will and intention), be in conformity, To no intellect in the Universe can the relation of numbers be difi'erent from what it is to ours. It is impossible that God would ever create intellects to which two and two would be any- thing else than four. So in regard to moral things, right and wrong lue still the same in the planet Herschel, or in heaven, as on earth. Wherever beings exist that can know God, they must be like God. We thus recognise in the angels the same minds and sympathies with ourselves. When the^ sing praises as they announce man's redemption, we perceive the samo minds, with the same sentiments and reflections as our own ; and thus, coo, mind becomes a conductor which binds us to the whole universe of rational beings. Every mental and moral being is born after one image— God." Letter to Dr. Donaldson, when requested to take the chair at a Bur»a Festival, at Newmilns : — * *'Dec., 1S39. " Only consider the matter seriously as a Christian man, and say how we can, with the shadow of consistency, commemorate Burns after sitting down at the Lord's Supper to commemorate the Saviour? I have every admiration for Burns as a poet ; but is it possible to separate the re- membrance of his genius from the purposes for which it was so frequently used, or rather prostituted? I would, I daresay, have admired and wonder- ed at the magnificent picture which Satan exhibited to the Saviour, had I beheld it ; but that would not be a reason why it would have been allowable to have commemorated the genius and power of the mighty being who had delighted my senses with his picture, without any reference to the good or evil, intended to be done, or actually accomplished, by the sjilendid work itself. In the same way, however much I admire the beautiful poetry of Burns, I never can forget that, in a great many instances (and these afibrd- ing me most brilliant examples of his powers) it has been an engine for vice; for over what vice does he not throw the colouring of genius 1 " I would willingly say nothing against him, unless I am thus publicly called upon to commemorate him publicly and to say something for him. I cannot, I dare not, as a Christian minister, do this ; neither can I but in the strongest manner disapprove of any dinner to his memory. What I have said would, I well know, in the estimation of the world, be termed cant ; but with the vast majority of thoughtful, well-informed Christians, it is a self-evident truth. Excuse this very hurried note, written amidst many labours. You may make what use you please of it." Prom his Journal : — " August 4th, — Went with Clerk to preach at Kilmorry, a station on the west side of Ardnamurchan. Had a fine view of the West Hebrides from the summit of the hill. The place where he preaches is very curious. " Before I went into church I sat down on a knoll to gaze on the scenery. •It is interesting to compare his convictions at this period as to the proper course o* duty with the position he assumed at the Burns' Centenary in 1859. (iSee Chaptei XIV.) *^ EARLY MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN. 109 T heard the sound of praise rising from the primitive edifice, and the lash of the waves of the great Atlantic on the shore, and between the hymn and the ocean and the majestic scenery ai-ound there was perfect oneness. They all praised God. But the dead cannot i)raise Him; and what a lonely churchyard that one was ! One stumbled upon it. I never saw such rude 'graves. I could not discover one name or one inscription. Amonf^ heather and weeds, you find a small spot raised above the surface, and a tuif of heather over it, ill-cut and rudely put on. There is a fearful negligence shown here of the remains of humanity. The churchyards are not inclosed, and the graves ai-e more rude than any I have seen in any country. There is one grave in that remote churchyard in which a woman lies whose history will only be known at the great day. She was called Lowland Mary. About forty years ago she came, no one knew whence, to this remote spot. She was then a young and pretty woman. She became a servant to a respectable gentleman tenant, and supported herself for thirty years. She was pleasant and communicative on every point but one, and that was her own personal history. Whenever she was asked who or whence she was, she got into a high state of excitement, almost mad. The most she ever said was that her friends could support her, and insinuated that they were well off". It was supposed she was landed from some ship. She lived for years a solitary woman, and died a pauper this year. Clerk was sent for to see her and could not go. Her history was never told, " I received the following* information about Skye from a thoroughly re- liable source : — " To disregard the ordinances and sacraments of the Church has come to be looked upon by the islanders as characteristic of I'eligious life. The superstitious terror with which fanaticism has invested the receiving of Baptism or the Lord's Supper has led men to show their reverence by the strange method of avoiding their observance. The teaching of my cousin, Mr. Roderick INIacleod, minister of Bracadale— commonly called Mr. Rory-^ was the prime cause of this state of things. He held extremely strict and exclusive views as to who should be allowed to partake o^ the sacraments of his Church. He believed, and actud with unbending ligour, on the prin- ciple that a minister should admit no one to these Christian privileo-es without being full satisfied in his own mind that the applicant was truly regenerate, while doing so he refused to make known the tests by which he judged of men's spiritual state. The immense majority of the people, not only in Bracadale, but througliout the island, gradually succumbed to his nile ; and while continuing nominally attached to the Church of Scotland, yet rarely asked for her sealing ordinances, and either grew indifferent to them, or regarded them, especially the Lord's Sui^per, with such dread that no consideration would induce thorn to pfirtake of them. " Thus, in the parish of Bracadale, with a population of 1,800, the com- municants have been reduced to eight persons. In the neighbouring parish of Diurinish the communion was never administered from the year 1829 till 1840; while in other parishes the administration was irregular, and the number of communicants incredibly small* There are hundreds of • The anomalous state of things described as existing in Skyo in 1842, continues to the present day. There are now hun.lreds of persons in the island— many of them lathers and mothers, some of them grandfathers and grandmothers— who were never J >, \ ' 110 LIFE OF NORM AN MACLEOD. ^ :;i;' people unbaptized, and who, even in mature age, evince no desire to receive the sacred rite. " There is a numerous class of lay preachers, called ' The Men,' who do much to keep up the flame of fanaticism by fierce denunciations of those whom they reckon unworthy communicants, and of the pastors who dare to admit any to Christian privileges but such as have received their imprima- tur. These * Men ' are of various characters and talents. Some of them are animated by a zeal that is genuine if not enlightened, leading lives of strict piety, and gifted with a wonderful flow of natural eloquence ; while others have nothing to show but a high-sounding profession of faith, some- times combined with great worthlessness of character. These separatists wear a distinctive dress, carrying a long blue cloak, and putting a red hand- kerchief round their heads in church. They judge spiritual character mora by such tokens as Sabbatarian strictness than common morality. " Our way home was by a different but as wild a path, which only High- land horses like Diamond and Brenda could travel. I could not have be- lieved it without my having seen the inimitable way in which they picked their steps among the loose stones, and walked over ledges of wet rock. We had one magnificent prospect on our way back from the summit of the ridge. It was like the crater of an immense volcano — wild, silent, savage. " llh, Sabbath of the Gommimion. — The day was wet and stormy, but it was a pleasant day to us all. The English congregation, amounting to about twenty, met in the drawing room of the Manse. There I preached to them and administered the sacrament. It was a small but solemn meet- ing, and had a reality about it which I liked. It seemed more like primitive times than anything of the kind I ever saw. And query— hs^di no ordained minister been in the parish, and had the parish been removed beyond St. Kilda, and had my worthy and intelligent friend, Mr. Clerk, senr., set apart the bread and wine by prayer for sacramental use, and had that company partaken of the same in order to remember Christ, would this have been a 'mock sacrament,' even though no ordained minister were present? " Wth. — Set off upon an expedition to Loch Shiel. " A fresh breeze of north wind was blowing up Loch Sunard. We went rattling along under a snoring breeze; passed Mingarry Castle and Sthroue McLean, connected with which there is a sad story. McLean was a famous freebooter when Mclan was in possession of Mingarry Castle. Mclan's wife was fair and vain. McLean was handsome and cunning. He, the enemy of her husband, won her affections. She agreed to admit him to the castle upon a certain night to murder her husband, on condition that he would marry her. McLean accordingly entered the castle at night and murdered baptized, while the sacrament of the Lord's Supper is looked upon by many with inde- scribable dread. This gloomy view of the Holy Communion prevails generally throughout the north Highlands ; but, as far as I know, Skye is the only place where baptism is so generally neglected. As an instance of the baneful effects of these feel- ings, even after the erroneous views on which they are fountled have been given up, a clergyman relates that when he once asked a parishioner, who had come from the iioi-th Highlands, to become a communicant, he was startled by the reply, "Please Bay no more. I cannot answer you. I have no doubt that Mliat you say is' true ; but I tell you that if you had asked me to commit the greatest sin, you could not iiave frightened wd half so nmcli as by inviting me to sit at tlie table of the Lord." Yet this man was not only intelligent and well-read, but of a truly serious mind and ex* eel lent character. EARLY MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN. m the old chief. McTan, however, left an only son, and McLean inBic,tP.l nnon the woman putting to death the son, who alone seemed to sta^the"^; of his subjecting the distnct to his own sway. The woman Zeed to 7vl and, accompanied by McLean, reached the wiid precipLe to thS.;' her eS ZZ li \ "•'"'' ''^''^- ^""^"^'^ ^^^°^- The mother took the child in her ZlJllT rf ^ '^ ^. *^' ^'^ ^ ^^«* i*^ f''°«^ te^i but not doing so she was asked by McLean why she delayed. ^ ' evrrTattempt'it?^^'''^ *^' unfortunate woman, 'smiles in my face when- reply^''''' ^^^"^ ^''"'" ^^'^ """"^^ ^""^ ^°°'' "°* ^* '*' '^^^'«'' ^^« *he bandit's The woman did so, and the child was throvvn over the rock. She had no sooner accomplished the deed than McLean turned upon her and said- Away horrid woman ! You who could thus murder your husband and child might murder me !' ^ "uauaim Ana "We soon came in sight of Aharacle, which stnick me very much as being ^Id, peculiar, and picturesque. Aharacle is at the end of LorShiel Lkgi-ou'nd """"" ''""""''' '^ '"^^' ^'''' ' fi- -^--f Rum in the "It affords a curious instance of the singular crystallizing process v. ,;ch the results of the Reformation have undergone, that Papists fndSestants tTeXthS anTrpT* r r ''''' '^^ *^^^- ^" ^he Papists ar^^^^^^^^ r^liT f 1 ^ I Protestants upon the south side of Loch Shiel The parish of Ardnamurchan, which in Papist times contained mly parishes extended (untU lately) as far north as Arisaig, about sixt^SsTthl crow flies, with I daresay five hundred miles of%ea-coast ^ ' We set off for Glen Finnan at four. We pulled for two or ihr.. miles between low flat banks with low ranges of hSsSa-b^^ there was a grand view ahead, clusters of mountains, with dark ^illLs, towa ds which we were^steering in high hope. After sailing some miles the Take seemed closed by a green point-intensely green when contrasted with the dark, heathy, rocky mountains which now began to gather round us and above us on every side We soon discovered'' from the ruins and cros e which caught our eye that this was Eilean Finnan, of which we had heaS so much. It IS, indeed a touching spot, fit place'for meditative thoSt There are remains s ill on the Island of the old religious establis5iits but they are ruins only. Gravestones are scattered around, cltly if not altogether, belonging to the Roman Catholic families in the d tdct One was the gra^^ of a bishop. Another had a skeleton ca -ve out on the stone. Another was a plain bit of wood not a foot high. R de stJne c osses of slate and of modern workmanship were placed here ad theie Until a few months ago, when it was removed for safety by the ponish n ro pnotor, a small bell remained from time immemorial iVa w ndoT in th^ runs beside three skulls, one of them belonging to a notorious charactei in the olden time, Ian Muideartach These skulls have bn buried One thing struck me much about the churchyard, viz., that the nde spokes which had carried the different coQins for the burial were depol fed bet e their respectiv^e graves, each grave having a rude spoke on elch side of t In contemplating that green island with its ruins. I could nor^stidn Jhoi feelings which prompted me to offer up in my h aa-t a tiCte o p lai e 1 112 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. m 'if; V' if m "If: pi'!. rr 't Hi: the forgotten religionists who had here lived and died. They may have been in comparative darkness, they may have erred from ihe truth— but some light they had, and he^-e they made it shine uraiddt the surrounding darkness of a barbarous c^e. Some truth they had, and they gave it to others. This island, with its buildings, its matin and vesper bells, its pro- cessions, its prayers, its oeremonie:, was a visible religion; it was a monument and pledge of something beyond man, a link connecting another world with this; and it must at least have kept before the minds of the barbarian chns who prowled in the neighbouring mountains— gazing upon it from their summits, or listening to its bell calling to early prayer— the truth that there was a God, and reward and punishment beyond the grave, and that the eye of One who hated sin gazed upon them. Popery with its symbols was a pioneer to Protesta^^tism. It was in some respects better 'Calculated to attract the attention of men in a rude nnd savage state. Whea man is a child, he Sfoaks as a child ; but he should now, m these days of light and intelligence, put away childish things. " After a puU of twenty-four miles we reached, about ten o'clock, the head of the loch, and saw the tall monument rising like a ghost in the darkness. " The first thing which attracted roy notice in the morning was the monu- ment erected to commemorate Princt Charlie unt'urling his standard to regain the throne of his ancestors. This romantic enterprise was begun on this spot. '^ And where now are all those fine fellows who, full of enthusiasm and of hope, came streaming down these valleys and covered those scattered rocks? Where those Highland chiefs, the last monuments in Eur^ r-e of tlio feudal times, who mot l-.ere full of chivalry, and of all tlio stirring thoughts con- nected -with such a romantic and hazardous enterpiise? And tlie young Chevalier himself, with his dreams of ambition and of kingly thrones 'never to be fulfilled'* How strange that the intrigues of a vicfous Court should have disturbed the quiet of this solitary glen, and that he, who was then all freshness and manliness, should havo changed Loch Shiel and its warriors for r.n opera and Italian dissipation ! Charlie after all was never my dar- ling. He had all the kingly bearing, with all the low '• which has Lnvou 114 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. Jh W, and half mfidel-who were very civil when I went to see them, but would never come tochurch. They were generally Chartists, and talked veiy bi' nn W it ff'll f * '''^'"'"^ ^^^ P^^^^^ *° ^^^^^^ ^^" informed, and so +T' ■Tf; , ./ ^""T ^''''^ *° ^^* *° windward of these men, but I knew totCn fn W *^r!f '^« l^to a 'Philosophical Institution' and sometimes got men to ecture to them Irom Kilmarnock. I hinted to one of them that I would wilhngly lecture. They sent a deputation to request me to do so 1 agreed. Subject, geology. I have for the last ten years been fond of the science, and luckily I had just finished a two months' course of reading ou It, and had a large collection of all the best books. Well, not to make mv story long, up I went to the village on the appointed night, expecting to find the members of the Institution only assembled, but I found the schcx)!- house crammed with one hundred and fifty people admitted by penny tickets, and about fifty people outside ! You can have no idea, unless you knew the excitability of our people, of the interest these lectures have created: thev speak of nothmg else; old fellows stop and touch their hats and thark me When I finished my second men who used to avoid me, gave me three rounds of cheers! and last Sabbath night I saw some of i\xe philosophers in church for the first time. They have got the dissenting church for me to lecture m. I have got Buckland's map copied on a large scale, and we begin a spring course, to not less, I am persuaded, than six or seven hundfed people ! _ I think this is a practical lesson. Let a minister use every means to come m contact with every class, to win them first on common ground, and from thence endeavour to bring them to holy ground. Only fancy a fossil fern from the coal, the solitary specimen in the mineralogical cabinet of the institution, going the round of Newmilns as an unheard of curiosity! Poor souls ! It you knew how I do love the working chisses " Dec 30^A.— The former part of this letter was written a v.eek a^ro. It proves to you what a slow coach I am. I wanted to have written to you about our unfortunate Church, but the subject is too important to be dealt with in a letter. I have seen nothing i)ublished upon this subject which so completely expresses my own views as Morren of Greenock's letters to his congregation. It I can get them in a complete form I will send them to you. My princip es may be shortly stated. The Church, as an independent power in sj.intual things, agrees in forming an alliance with the State to act in refei-ence (for example) to the induction of presentees into parishes in one particular way, out of fifty other ways she might have duLn, all being agi-eeablo to the Word of God. This particular way is embodied in an Act of I arliament-a civil act-and consequently in.plies an obligation on the part of the two contracting parties, the Church ami State, to obey Its enactments. Of this evil act the civil courts are alone the constitutional interpreters, and wo must either obey their interpretation or walk out I wish the law was modified, but I can live under it. I believe there must be a largo secession. No Government can yield to their demands " Write to me soon. Thie is a wild night. It is late. My commuuion 18 on the second Sabbath of January. Pray for me." From his Journal:— " I heard, tho end of last week, that T B and D T wei-e Ul and dying. Neither of them sent for me, but I dutenninud, thank 1 I jt EAB^Y MINISTRY IN LOUDOUN. 115 ■ God, to see them. I felt a particularly strong desire to do so. Here let me record for my guidance a rule— Always when a fitting opportunity arrives be sowing the seed. Read the Gospel in private, in season and out ot season, and God may bless it when least expected by you. I vent to see B first, and found him dying. Most earnestly did I urge upon him a free salvation, and the truth that God has good-will to man. I then went to T's. He had been a cold, heartless man, a Chartist, and his son was the only man m Newmilns (except his brother) who 'cut' me, and who was very uncivil to me both in his father's presence and in his own house In- deed, I had to leave him on the ground of incivility. To this man's 'house 1 telt I must go. But i went in prayer, leaving it to God, and conscious that 1 went from a sense of duty. But oh how chastened was D. ' lamenting neglected opportunities, and serious and thoughtful about salvation His son entered at the end of my visit. D. shook hands with me, and his son mild and civil, thanked me cordially for my visit. Always do duty trusting to God, who will make light arise out of darkness. ''Saturday Evening, 2Wi.—l was last week at" Kilninver burying dear -.Id Dr. Campbell,* who died upon the 17th. My father is the best travel- ling companion I know, so full of anecdote and traditionary tales." •Father of the late John Macleod Campbell, D.D. 1 i^i-ii tt ',. CHAPTER VIII. THE DISRUPTION CONTROVERSY. THE Disruption of 1843 forms an interesting and curious page in modern ecclesiastical history. The enthusiasm and stern devo- tion to duty which led hundreds of good men to leave the Church of their fathers, and peril their all for conscience sake, formed a startlin'r spectacle in the midst of the materialism of the nineteenth century! It was no wonder that the appeal made to the generous sympathies of the nation— when the people saw so many of their most I'evered ministers sacrificing manse and glebe and stipend for what they beheved to be their duty— received a generous response. And if the commencement of the Free Church was a remarkable illustration of the undying " perfervidum ingenium Scotorum"— no less has her subsequent history been charat Prized by rare wisdom and eaer-^y. Every Christian man must ungrudginnly recognise the great n-o'od which she has accomplished. The benelits which have attended her devoted labours are too palpable to require enuineratioii. Her rapid multiplication of the means of grace at home and abroad, the wisdom ot her organization, the boldness of her enterprise, the splendid liberality of her members, and the worth and ability of many of her ministers, have conferred untold blessings, direct and indirect, on the cnnse of religion. She has not only been a distinguished mis- sionary agent, but she has powerfully stimulated tlie zeal of jther Churches. Yet it would be untruthful not to recognize the evils which, we believe, accompanied the Disruption. Ecclesiastical stril'c, wliicli in- troduced discord into every ])arisli and into thousands of laniili(!s, not only greatly destroyed the Irank cordiality of soci.al life in Scotland but converted every community into a set of mutually suspicious factions, and thus did grievous damage to the (Hiristian spirit oi" the country. For the zeal with which the claims of Church and iiarty were advanced was too often characterized by a bitterness of temper, a violence of language, and a virulonre of sectarinn animosity, which promoted anything but Christian lilb as (•x(Mn])lili(Ml by humility justice, and charity. When there was such denunciation of ecclcsius^ tical oj.ponents that their loyalty to the will of Christ was questioned ; and when thuio wua added to sucli piesumption of judgment, tho THE DISRUPTION CONTROVERSY. 117 Is'^tm^ hfZh "Vol^- t,"^r't'' *" '^'l^^^ '^' Establishment as a true branch of Christ s Church, an acerbity was imparted to thf> controversy which was far from being edifying to the public This rivalry of the sects also tended to weaken the authoritrand impa the discipline of all Churches, and diminish the feelings ^ofrleZce with which the sacred office of the ministry used to be regard^ Those moreover, who value a national testimony to religion not as a nere theory, but as exemplified in practical Iegislation,^musrreg et the perilous issues which have ensued from the "jealousy and divS ^n.nf ^^'T^'' m Scotland. Although there is, perhaps, no free country really so united m its creed, yet there are few where it has been more difficult to settle even such matters as educatTon without riskmg every guarantee for religion. wicnout It is certainly from no desire to re-open controversies, which, thank God, have m a great measure lost their bitterness, that these thhigs are referred to here. Most of those who took a leading part in the warfare have entered into their rest, and "seeing eye to eye "have learned to love one another in the fellowship of the Churcl/glorified It IS therefore peculiarly painful to recall a time of misunderstanding and bitterness. But in describing the part taken by Cman MaS during years of keen and important debate, historical trSu nesT^ well as the duty imposed on his biographer of throwincr as 3 1 Im as possible on the motives which then Ltuated him, and vS f to the strong exprcsnons of opinion sometimes to be found in his iour nals and letters, make it necessary to re-create to a certai exCt the atmosphere which then surrounded him. If there ZCaIoI sometimes uttered by him, it can be asserted, with alTt uth that tl ev owe their character chiefly to his intense desire for tolerance and love ^^^^l^f^'^'l .7^.^^^-^-^ C,h-ehes, and frordeSaS feelln. ^^'^^''"^'''^ '^^"^^^ »^ ^^^^ so destructive of right Christian For tlie sake of clearness, therefore, as well as of illustrating the position taken by Norman Macleod during this discu iif we si all te. as briefly and impartially as possible, the points Tissue i a controversy which agitated Scotland to its centre %t'^' '^^*]' \ ^^'^.V^'Vl' '"J'l'^'^''''^ t« '" <'»« Free Church Claim of Rights i t dr n nrovll '''"^''y'"^ ^'•"" \''>' "«''* *° ^'"1'"^'*^' « """'''ter to a congregation tl^^ ; r [, , Iv ''^''''''^ '•'■'l»f '^^^^^ii.sHI'Vrover.s "to give in their reasons to theeflect the aHau may be cognosced uj.on by the Presbvterv of tie Bnnn-lu a^ ui-,^- iiui-m-nt ■IS or reject a ])resentee without any trial a'- , onferred on the people the right to ithout assigning any rea.sons. : , t- .1 122 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. m Ministers of quoad sacra or non-parochial cliTirches, to sit in Presby- teries, Synods and Assemblies. The theory of Presbyterian parity, and some precedents which had not at the time been challenged, lent countenance to the Act. But its legality was disputed by the parish- ioners of Stewarton, in 1839, and after a trial, tlie Court of Session found it unconstitutional and incompetent. As Presbyteries are Courts which possess jurisdiction not only in matters spiritual, but in civil matters, — such as the building and repair of manses, churches, and the examination of schoolmasters — it was evident that any parish- ioner or heritor or schoolmaster, as well as minister, was entitled to ob- ject to any one sitting as a member of the Court who had no legal right to do so. The Non-Intrusion party, however, once more claimed supremacy for tlie General Assembly. The Church, and the Church only, they said, had the right to determine who should sit in her Courts; but the Court of Session held that it was a violation of the law of the land as well as of the constitution of the Church itself, to allow any minister to act as judge in a Presbytery who was not the minister of a parish, and issued interdict accordingly. Confusion thus became worse confounded. With the view of recon- ciling parties, measures were proposed in Parliament for the settlement of ministers, in which the utmost latitude was given to the liberty of the people to object. One point alone was stipulated, — the Churcli Courts must decide whether the objections to the presentee were good or bad, and their decision was to be final. But even this was not satis- factory. Nothing short of such a liherum arhitrium must be given to the people as has been commemorated in the song — " ' I do not like thee, Dr. Fell, The reason why, I cannot tell.' The extreme party had taken their position, and it was not easy to recede from it. The "Ten Years' Conflict" waxetl louder and fiercer as it approached its lamentable close. A Convocation of the Free Church party was held to mature measures for the final separation. Deputa- tions were appointed to visit every parish whose minister was of the opposite party, and to stir up the people so as to prepare them for secession. The language used by these deputies was not unfrequently of the wildest and most reprehensible description. The choice they put before the country was "Christ or CoBsar." Motives of the most mer- cenary description were too often attributed to the ministers who dared to abide by the Establishment. The:e was kindled, especially in the North Highlands, a fanaticism the intensity of which would now appear incredible. It was, in short, a period of untold excitement. Norman Macleod was for a long time unwilling to be dragged into the controversy, and pursued his parochial duties with increasing earnestness, witho.'t -mtering into the strife wliich was raging around niiu. He was unfitted alike by tcmporaiucnt and by conviction foi being a "party man," and until nearly the end of the conflict his THE DISRUPTION CONTROVERSY. 123 sympathies were not greatly roused by the action of either side. He felt that the High Churchmen or "Evangelicals" were, on the one hand, exaggeratmg tne importance of their case, for he had seen noble types of Christianity m England and Germany under forms and con- ditions widely different from what were pronounced in Scotland essen- tial to the existence of the Church. His common sense condemned the recklessness with which the very existence of the National Church was imperilled for the sake of an extreme and, at the best, a dubious question of ecclesiastical polity. In whatever way the dispute mi^ht be settled his practical mind saw that nothing was involved which could hinder him from preaching the Gospel freely, or interfere either with his loyalty to the Word of God, or with the utmost liberty in pro- moting the advancement of Christ's kingdom. His whole nature was opposed to what savoured of ultramontane pretensions, however dis- guised, and knowing how easily " presbyter" might become " priest writ large, he was too much afraid of the tyranny of Church C\)urts and ecclesiastical majorities, not to value the checks imposed by consti- tutional law. He was, moreover, repelled by the violence of temper the unfairness ot judgment, and the spiritual pride, displayed by so' many of the ''Evangelicals.' He had known and loved too many ex- cellent Christian men among the so-called "Moderates," not to be shocked by the indiscriminate abuse which was heaped upon them On the other hand, he had such reverent love for Chalmers, the leader ot the " Evangelicals," and for many of the eminent men as- sociated with him, that he was for a time led to sympathize with their side without adopting the policy they advocated. Although he after- wards perceived the inconsistency of the utterances of Chalmers in this controversy with the whole of his previously declared opinions on Church and State,* yet there was a boldness displayed by the T3artv at whose head was his old teacher, and a warmth and zeal for thVad- vancement of the Kingdom of Christ, which appeared, to his eyes in favourable contrast with the proverbial coldness of the "Moderates" He did not, however, publicly commit himself to a side, nor did he indeed, carefully examine the question, until the thickening of the storm compelled him to do so. A speech delivered by Mr. Whicrham then sherili of Perth opened his eyes to the true nature of the^issue set before the Chureh. He went home to Loudoun, shut himself up m his study, plunged into the history and literature of the contro- versy and fairly thought out for himself the conclusions which deter- mined his hne of action. In April, 1843, a small section of the tliureh, known by the sobriquet of "The Forty," or "The Forty J hieves, attempted to take a middle course between extremes They refused to identify the principle of con-Intrusion with the Veto Act, or with Its spirit, and were ready to accept as a compromise such an arrangement as afterwards became law through Lord Aberdeen's Bill, by which the utmost freedom was declared to" belong to the Pres- * " Third Crack about the Kirk," pasdm. B 4' 1 [i\ 124 ZIFU OF NORMAN MACLEOD. \\ if bytery to decide on tlie suitableness of each presentee to the par- ticular circumstances of the parish to which he had been nominated by the patron. They equally differed from the extreme " Moderates," who were content with the existing law, and who did not desire any further popularising of the Church. " The Forty " would undoubted- ly have been content had patronage been done away altogether, and the bone of contention for ever removed. Shortly after the declaration of "The Forty," Norman intimated to Dr. Leishman, their leader, his wish to append his name, expressing the characteristic hope that "The Forty" would soon become another '45, to revolutionise the policy of the Church. At last the war came to his own door, and he was roused to a public defense of his principles. A deputation had been sent to his parish, for the purpose of promoting secession, and of driving the people from his ministry. He at once addressed Ids parishioners on the disputed question with such effect, that their loyalty was secured almost to a man. He next wrote a pamphlet suited for the common people. It was in the form of a dialogue, conducted in pithy Scotch, and entitled, " A Crack about the Kirk."* Its wit and clearness of statement at once attracted attention, and it passed rapidly through several editions. The first " Crack " was speedily followed by two others, which were hardly so racy in style, though perliaps quite as powerful in argument. About the same peiiod he found himself placed in a position of pain- ful responsibility. The case wliich had determined the non-eligibility of Chapel Ministers to sit in Presbyteries had been that of Stewarton, in the Presbytery of Irvine. He was moderator of the Presbytery when the election of commissioners, to sit in the ensuing General Assembly of '43, was to take place. As moderator it was his duty to keep the actings of the Presbytery in due form ; and as the decision of the Court of Session satisfied him that the ministers of Chapels quoad sacra had no legal position in the Ecclesiastical Court, he declared his determination not to admit their votes, and intimated that, should they insist on retaining their seats at the meeting of Presbytery, he would then separate, with all such members as should adhere to him, and constitute the Court from a roll purged of the names of all not IvgiAlIy qualified. " A circumstance had come to his knowledge," he said, "inurf* the last meeting that materially weighed with him in the step :)i v. cs about to take at tliis juncture. It had been declared by the public organs of the Non-Intrusionists,-f- and he heard it stated fre- quently in private and never heard it contradicted, that it was tlie in- tention of the party wliich was about to secede, not to retire merely as a section of the OhurcL, l:\t, by gaining a majority in the Assembly, to declare the conr*^i t"t u ^>et^vf ;;n Church and State at an end, and, more- over to excommujiioa'e those who remained in the Church as by law established. He v/ouid by all constitutional means, and at all hazards. *See Appendix B. Vide the Preshykrian Review, April, 1843. I ::llV ft.* THE DISRUPTION CONTROVERSY, 125 do all that in him lay to prevent the venerable Establishment to whtob ^r^m^ ltld^SrttS^"f '^^^^ ^"' himself :Sisbrett uum win neia up to their people as excommunicated minkforo a ^a o artain this object he felt it necessary for tCmZh^TvTe.hv^e^ to send none but legally qualified commissioners tHrnextSmblv and he saw no other possible course for accomuli^liin fl^f t ^^^®"^^Y' He was a member of the famous Assemblv of '^'^ ^^.a „ ^ * comat the strange vicissitudes „, altZ^^:^^l^'t:^i^j:-^ reminiscences in letters and ionrml« h,if fi.^, ^ ® "^® S-r ^ft" ^'-'t ^' «""''» '-e1:e^enuTSrd"="':^TrS iices he often said, "were eeitaiiily not aU on "one «.\,U" With i^A^ nant energy he portrayed the trial^t wa^Ttrteh to E bv'lt unpopular side and to act „„t what conscience dicta ed as he l^L d of enthusKism-greeted as martyrs and roarded as sa?n s ^„\loL !■ ChTrch%''^"'%''PPr'" r''^"" °f »" aat wl~^^ r:!:tSnr\:rd'Ve &Sor^^^^ S^irnd^el^™"™^;™:;:''''"?''''^^^"^^^^ siona^ytctie^rEhfSh : ,iI'a'™=o.^' t dT^" ™T was terribly disheartcnins;. Tliere was m m^^, ^ duappeared, outside woiil for those who h '-,, w Uh We he3^?o'T"' '"'" "' wreck. Scorn and hissinn- .,rec "i tl em i L.! , "'"" "™^ ""^ only aim was "to abide bVtiie stuff ■'ol^ ?"' "' """ "■'">'" .esJlutely taken after al'^K^Tat^d the im rolllTri l^rnC'tV's't And tte ht;",'v n i'r,™"'"'y '»'' n»t been throwir'aw^: '" And the history ol both Churches has since then amply vindicated I!: 126 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. the positi.in taken by tlie party which was then ready to movfc foi reform without disruption. The policy of " The Forty " has been practically follo^ved by the Church for several years past, and it is that, on the one hand, which has led to the gradual removal of the diificulties affecting Chapels of Ease, by erecting them into Endowed Parishes quoad sacra, and which, on the other, has obtained from Parliament a total repeal of the Law of Pidronage. T!ie problems which disturbed the Church have tlius been settled by patient and devoted labour, con- ducted in a spirit of tolaration and charity towards others, and with an honest endeavour after reconstruction on a sure and national ground. It is not too much to say that to many minds the history of the Free Church has presented a marked contrast to this. In spite of her great energy, they believe that she lias failed to solve the difficulty she herself raised as to the relationship of Church and State. In the Cardross case, her claim to spiritual independence within her own denomination was j udicially denied. IMay it not therefore be questioned whether, after little more than thirty years' existence, she does not really find herself without a logical position between Voluntaryism and the Establishment ? Norman Macleod mac^'e two speeches during the memorable Asscml)ly of ISI*^ -the first being in reference to a motion of Dr. Cook for rescinding the Veto. A distinguished minister of the Ckurch, who was then a student, records the deep impression which this speech made. The courage and Christian enthusiasm of its tone, lie says, inspired confidence in the hearts of many who were almost despairing, and for his own part greatly confirmed his loyalty, ^\\\en he heard it he exclaimed, " There is liie in the old Church yet," and gave himself anew to its ministry. Only a condensed report remains of this speech, but the following extract gives some idea of its bearing :— " Difficult as the task is which those wV.u Juive left us have assigned to us, I, for one, cheerfully, but yet with chastened and determined feelings, accept of it. 1 do so, (Jod knoweth,not for my own ease and comforc. If I consulted them, or any selfish feeling, I would take the poj.ular and ea.sy method of solving all difficulties, by leaving the Establishment ; but I am not free to do so. I glory in declaring that this is not a Free Presbyterian T'lmreh. We are not free to legislate beyond the bounds of the constitution ; we are not free to gratify our own feelings at the expense of the good of the country. Neither are we free irom the v.cakness and infirmities of hujuanity — its fears, desi>ondencies, and anxieties. No ! we are bound, but bound by honour, conscience, and law — by the cords of love and affi'ction — to maintain our beloved EslaMished Church, and, thmugh it, to benefit our dear fatherland. And 1 am not afraid. Py the grace of (Jod we shaR succeed AVe shall endeavor to extingtiish the fire which has been kindled, and every fire but the light of the glorious Go,s])el, which we shall, 1 hope, fan 'into a brighter llame. And the beautiful .s].eetack which was presented to us on Sabbath eveniuK in the dense crowd V I I the THE DISRUPTION CONTROVERSY. m assembled liere to ask the blessing of God on our belovpd r>.„..i. abled me to distinguish amid the^ flames theTd"fli5'ouT *lvec tamen consumebatur ' Wp ^lioll fr,. f^ i • nasmng out, hartour, and if we haul down ile one flaT' EetrS "^J '""^ 'f '° shall hoist, another, 'Despair! No Mverf indTf"T Hv T"' ' '™ .1^ Assembly an old mai. I an, ciSnt th^ Lf" WrZ^Jl vindicate our present position, in endeavouring il,m„;,i,' r^ ^"' and bad report, to preLrve this great nTiZLftSn rabkS^ to then, and to their children's children." "'"""i as a bles>,iiig To the Rev. A. Clekk, Ardimmuichiin. " loUK""' Manse, Feinary, isih, 1843. or suirer I, it. Ha^tZo^X.^* re.4°dt^'r' Pi / ^^^^^^^^^^^ mmmmm iimk lur liiiii J,.i,.,. 4] ^ "• iHMHoying a man h ciiarar'ter and iiuiK mg mm li.ivo tJio uppcaianiMi (>f >p n,r evil whirh T l.wflm Ti i ono may bo a Sa.l.lunGf. tho nthor I--'- ' -m ^ " ^''" have the idaoi,.,- tl.an tho vol^nnn P T' a* V^'*" '"'"'■• ^ ^'""^'* ««"»««* heartily v.'xJa w itl w L ^'•<^onm,^ Arohy, fo,Hayi„K this.l.ut Ia.u y V, xtcl with >vj,at 1 have live.1 to see dom- under tho cloak of Evan- M I i h ' 'V i' , f LIFE OF NORM AN MACLEOD. 128 selism I now begin to understand how the Puritanism of Charles I. 's time fhouM have produced libertinism in the reign of Charles Il.-aye, and the uer^udon too. Well, I am disgressing from my theme. I said that I Sed to keep out of this row, and to do my Master s work and will in my dear dear parish. I hoped to be let alone to win souls quietly m this sweet bay wto we only felt the pulse-beating of that great ocean which was S and raging^utside. But no ! The country xnust be raised and ex cited and my parish, of course, did not escape. When absent at Kil- n'nv;r I he^r^d that B. of L. and W. of B. had been making arrangements ri meetingboth in Newmilns and Dawel. The evemng came-B. was xmweUanTw alone arrived. The place of meeting was the Secession Clinr h in NewmUns (contrary to Mr. Bruce's mind^and the Cameronians ifnlnl^pHn DarU I went to the first meeting, at seven o'clock. rS ?ou k^r/^as nearly two thousand inliabitants besides the couX round Ther. were about a hundred in church ; of these, sixty were CkSs and the rest Dissenters and Churchmen. W. spoke for an hour-veiy tamely and very lamely, I thought, but was perfectly civi . If you only heard \Z arguments ! The gist of the first part of his «peech was S -The Church ought to obey the Bible-the Bible says, ' Beware of false' nroDhets ' ' Try the spirits,' l';upon he lue. a^^^^^ 1 ;..;«« T 1 nd be<.n roadin" hard for weeks t)n the; subject, and had tht^ l.uts rm/tinJe -Ic^^^s^^^T^^^^^^^ came, ami the chu.vh was crammed with l7cts"ud^ OS. I do believe I never had a greater pressure on my ^.l^ri h!:;! before this meeting. I did m.t so -'; ;, l^^ ^^^^^l^ a^ the subiect possessed me. Between anxiety to do ng t, and a lu UUK "i l^^l^i I should he looked u,;oK by 77- ^l-:;^-^:^:;^ inimical to the Church of Scotland, not to speak of the ( huich ot C hust, was 80 overcome that .luring the singing ot the I halm- " 'TluTcfHio T wIhIi tluit pc-ai-e iiuiy «till Witliui tliy wiills rviniiiii,' r went lik.. a very child. I sj.oke, however, for threo-amU-half hours, and not. a^oul move-l! Nev.T .lid I Beo such an attentive au.l.e.u.e.^ ^ ^^ "^ •' The result has Innm n.ost gra. ity ing. « >r un H.hn s m,v uiu. -J "- - ^^ This is singular, >.s t believe only two iu the whole town ot Kilma.n.>ck In THE DISRUPTION CONTROVEItSY. 129 have refused to join the Convocation. The people .rp .. 1 at all events, are so attached to me personal v Sih ^i'^ unanimous, or me a gold watch and an address f^r^ Stts T ^'^ 't^""' ^ P^"^^^* *<> ful to God if I were not both gratified anVhumbied bvTl ^' T^ "".^'ate- people's good- will to me. tumbled by this proof of my dear " So far all has been Avell in mv mri-«^ 'Moderates' had a minority of the laxvful ember, nft f * T'^'''^ *^^« meeting we are satisfied that we shall laveTm-ol '''"'*• ^\* ^* ^^^^ members, ie., exclusive of all the Ouond^on '^''^?''}y ^"^^n.? the lawful done? 'A question to be askll'^U rtS "'^ "^T'^'i ^'^'-^^ ^« to be counsel, it was proposed-and, 1 feara.:^ d to .'TT 'fr ^T '^' ^^^^^^^ ^^ legal roll only being read wh;n te'y^eis I'l^f. ^ should insist on the of the ministers Quoad Sacra to the cou tltt ?^'V,'^'"» *^^" admission majority agreeing to dismiss them, we should^id onr^f J ^T*^ f * ^"S'*^^ minutes, then constitute the court anew rdiJiTSh?pr'''-''f ^'' ^ ^''^ on reimining in spite of our decision, to turn hi^ 1? n ■ ""''"''^''^ ^^*"^ decided enough. ' ""^^ °"t. Ihis is, m all truth. " Till! reasons for it are : legll mi^^^^'ri^SSt^io^ "iT'^-y ^y *^^ vote of a the StewartoJ case-the dedln ^n^, , ?;S ^^^^ ^' '^'''f' "" there IS not the slightest chance of bein.^ reversed ,.i T^^^ there ,s no intention of following out 1 i^a, nlTnnr "^'"'^^ ^^ ^"'^^ but which is throwing obstaclesin he 1 .vT ^ ^"?« ^^ ^'^^^ time- •'.vteries who, but for^the appeal vollZ "^ " "^ ^'^'*^'' P^'"" courts. ^ P ' ''"''''* ^'^''^ themselves into constitutional " 2. We would thus send moderate men /in fi, • 1 ^ to next Assembly. This is of .vo^ ' ' ^ *'"^ "^'^.'* «^"«^ «^ the word) .1/..V/... /i.„,.,/,nakes no sec et o t Z?'; l"";' ''' '\ l'^ "'"•--tood-tho Church severed from the State and iTl ^ '^^ ^^««*:'»l''y '"^y declare the tl.at dietun.. authoritative ^ .tt ed b Zt'^'f ^ ^''j'''' ^""-- ^-» have a set of .loeent f..]low,s to be nr si Ll ove.^ .? '^ ^'''^ ^^^ ^'«'' to a.t, the reasons for our .novc.ne it' n hi ^ '";.'" ^"'"'"'•'^'^•^^^ The,se all our proceedings, ,uoaU ei^l^k^\:^1^:^^':::r'u ^'T''"^ "" ^'"^^ a*t these minist.;rs a.v with us. ^«yt«c. The constituted to do so. 4. We send "Comn^ '"^ ''' !''"''^ "' '^ ^^"'^^ "'"«""y party receives thciu. the oth^n^Ilvr"^^^^ r..'ou^ .•ipi>rals lu (,i„. (^.mniissiouer as to whi.-h iVtl.ri,' 1 i i- 'i "' ,^^^^*^'^i"K paity comes the split-Hud all tlm by mv t '' *^t*'.''''^'»"> Church, and thofi im oy my \ ,,te and determination as Moderator ! ! ! ti Inlir f -i 130 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. " Is this not a fix for a quiet-living man like me to be placed in 1 Is it not enough to make a man's hair grey ? What is to be done ? ' I would, as Sir John says, ' you would practise an answer.' _ _ " Our meeting is on the first Tuesday of March. Send me your opinion, as a Christian man, before that. How do you think I can best discharge mv duty to the law, the Church, my people, and to myself, and consequently to God I You observe I take for granted the principle— on which you need not argue-that in any question relating to the privileges £™nted by the State to the Church, neither the Church, on the one hand, nor the State, on the other, is the judge ; but a third party, namely, the Civil Courts, whose duty it is to say what the Statute Law is. Therefore I hold their decisioB in the Stewarton case right de jure. At the same time I ^lU use every efi"oi-t to get the ministers of Quoad Sacra churches legally into the Church. The decision iust makes us fall back to what we were before '34. " I have some thoughts of splitting the difficulty in the Presbytery Dy asking leave to withdraw from the Court, protesting against all consequences which may follow from letting these men in ; and if the other party do not agi-ee to this, then to run my big jib up and bear away for another 1 resby- terv I am satisfied that a great mass of the community is sick ot this business. The people feel no practical evU— and no nation was ever yet roused to revolution by a mere theory. Had it not been for indulgences and such like practical evils, Luther would not have had material with which to begin the war, though, after it was once begun opinions could keep it aaomcr If the Covenanters had not been shot and bayoneted, no theory regarding Church or State would have made them sleep in moss-bogs or faght at Drumclog. ^ , ^ «-,!•. -n "What did you think of C. of C. saying, 'The Lord Jesus Christ will have left the Church when we go !' One of the Rothesay ministers, 1 am told, said the other day, that the Devil was preparing a cradle in liell tor the opposition ! Yet I daresay, in a century after this, we shall have some partisan historian writing whining books about these persecuted, self-denymg, for-seeing saints, and describing all who oppose them as lovers ot the fleece, dumb dogs, and all that trash." To his sister Jane ;— " I am very doivie and cast down— not because I am alone, for I love the bachelor life every day more and more, and delight in tho independence with which I can rise, eat, read, write when I like !-but this Church of ours 18 coing between me and my sleep. . i , .* "There was a private meeting of our i.arty the day before yesterday at Irvine All that was donc^ was st.ictly private, but most important ; and only think of this— iuHt think of it— that I Norman McLeod, shall certainly be OBLIGED to make the move which will beyond a doubt first separate the Church into two parts ! ! This is confidence. It is making my head gi-ey. As Strong says, I am this moment the Archbishop of Canterbury. My Hinn.le vote as Moderator will decide the game one way or another In Bhoit, the hurricane is only beginning. Tlu^ explosion is to come, and / //.' must fire the train. Well, I think I will get enough of acting now. and no mistake, huspension, and anathcnia:s loud ;ukj tict-i; tiuU. v!.' *■ , •-- an before me as possibilities. You can fancy my cogitations, my working I THE DISRUPTION CONTBOVERSY isi us, and we feel as one. I i^avfa^rexf hll'^''^^ *'-"'^^""- ^e goes with a sneer when he heard me Stress my nnnv'^ffi"^? ' ^^""^^^ - h P am that Macleod does not like it !^^ ' SkTit ^T !?' / ^^' ^<^ ^« ^1"^^ him like a tiger, 'let me assure you, sir that V d^^' *".'"^"^ ^'«"'"I on sorest rials that have ever come my Q and tiLf V^'^!,* ^' «"« «f *h« «t.pend and ten times more to get U ^ it!? Ij^lrh^XXlC'^ JV) the Same :— « Tl,. . 1 " ^"'^"^''"°' ^''«'-*^^«y ^^-•-•«^, Half. past Seven May 18., Ihe day has come hpiiififi.i ;« ai, i . "f^few, ^ay, 1843. ominous inLmoralltllufe^^^^^^^^^^^ T?'' ^'"^ «--'-T and have been unanimous. No vo e is to be laken""''*' "^^ ^^^^'^^ «"*• They a protest and walk. The excitement ,-7.1" "" ^"^ P°^^*- They lod4 no way frightened. Many are aoxt Lm'/^^'";- \ T ""''y ^^^f but ^ as anything el.e " ^ '"^ '^''^'^ ^^^^ of public opinion as much To the Same :— '' They are off. Four hundred and M, " ^' •"''''' ^'""■"^' "^"^ '^' *^*^- -d fifty members. Three have ^ne Sn""tro '"'-^^t"' «"^ '""«*-^ Welsh's sermon was the ifia«ic/e'«f of nnip.?"^''''^ letter was read. ^I'gnified. ^'^^"^ «f °^e. Every thmg i„ their conduct was "God bless all the serious amoncr them T),« • , am to protest against the Strath bodies f a J H l7 T> °^'^ '^^^nning. I though very dowie. I think we may bv fW]'. M '' *^'"" "^ *^'^ "^«^"^"g. mense crowd in the New Assen.bly V^ J;! .^^^'"r^' T'''' ^'' i"" The procession was solemn, I am told C ? F^^'^^""'^'«- moderator. Tlie contrast between the old amlTlJ^;. ngl:^-^; 'tHk'^'"" '""^'""^^^^ u ;'^\~^^'^y are out of the Church " ^ striking. 1 take my stand for Constitutional Reform iv we survive this week we shall sw m H^" "'1 "'^ ""^ ^«'-''- If men who have left us to rectify thelblundeHn^^ 'T.r' "»'^'"«^ ^l'o«e inability to do so." ^ wundeiing, and then iuugh at our Tu the Same ;— " I have but five minutes The «?f .nf 1 1 • • " ^"""^""' ^^"^ ^3. I think we may swim. It was o meat^n r^"- f ^"^^•' *''"»k God ! past twelve p.m. I voted twice vf^.fo.l •'*''' "^'Sht. I spoke till half- -t help it. IfbllowedtX^^ St"^^;;;"^''^?'^'^^^^^^ ^'-^^ *our hundred and filty ha4 thisihi/ilirl^tSru!:'^;;!;!^;^^"'"-- ^'t> the Same :_ ^' " No one but a nionilu... , , " ^''""•*%. .>.-7'nt-„,„ mubrCl Lwdi'Sfc::!',:' ."'f "" ^--'I'l.v »» the and (jiiipf. tlifn,,,!.*,. , , """^'''t a tJiin;,' it is to pn.nt......j ....:. .• 'et.,n! -i;;;„;r,ii;r,G;u;Xir''''''''"'' "■ "■"•' » ''•«i^i"-ri,E.;z ;|i» . s I' if if il I it erty, the dear old Kirk. " May God hdp us, and then I will not fear what man can do. I trust that posteiiiy will vindicate our doings. It is for future generations we are now suffering. has tri«d to cut up my speech, but he must have known that I never meant what he alleges. But there is, I grieve to think it a great want of honour amongst a certain set of these men. I am just informed Uiat I am to be offereil an Edinburgh Church. This will put a finish to my trowWee. I dare not think of the subject. I hope I have one feeliii"'— a desire to aacrifice myself for my country; but whether will I do most good, in Loudoun, near Loudoun, or here % As to the living, poor as it i», *«d much as I have to pay, I could bear with it." To the Sam.:- "il/ay 27, 1843. " I am at present, I begin to suspect, rather a black slicep among tl-,e 'Moderates,' because I dare to have a mind of my own, and to act as a check, though a fearfully trifling one, on their power. Another day is coming; iukI come what may, there shall be one free Presbyterian in Scotland who will not give up his own understanding or conscience to living man. "1 intend to give my farewell speech on Monday. Wo have been as cold as ice and looking as if wo were all to bo shot. The Free Church is carry- ing it on moKt nobly. They know human nature better than we do. lUit defense never has the glory of attack. I leave all to posterity, and am not afraid of the verdict. I saw a tomb to-day in the Chapel of Holyrood with this inscription, 'Here lies an honest man.' 1 only wish to Uve m such a way as to entitle mo to have the same vloye. " My Father is off. My soul is sick." From his Jouhnal ;— "Juri^ 2nd.. \M?>.~^ have returned from the As-sembly of 1843, ono which will bo famous in the annals of the Church of Scotland. Yet who will ever know it* veal history J The great movements, the grand results, V THE DISRUPTION CONTROVERSY. 133 tlZ^t'u^ on rteSt S^t'"^ '" ^^ ^^ ^^ ^« -^ --* eves'V bntwlin ..+1 I^*f ^*y (f^^' ^^ many have been acting before its £r2'^l:nZTS::X^^^^^ o. understand the L thouL\d and terror, of other^ Td SvI^Ih H ^^™'^ *^" love of applause, the fear mes.nerisn;,whiohli that'wS SSbt '^ "^*^' *'^ P'-^^^-- «^ ^^- -hL without seeing auZritFrw:re%t]":d'^^^^^^^^^ 'T? ^T' "^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^"g^-* statutes, could Id^X in Wkr^^^ -f^ and subversive of 'civil said. So Dr. McCrie said in hk 5 1 ' ? E«t'iWi«liment. So Dr. Cook The Procurator told me tha\v£n t^t'v . 1°'' '^'^ ^""^^ "^ ^«'"'^«'^«- MoncriefF gave it a. Ms olSn tl t tie ri ", T/*"^' P^'^"^^^' ^^^'^^ that he was unwilling to gTtrPu- hit fW^ T ^"^ P,"^"^*." P*^ i*^' tain that its approvaf was'neSsfarv but tbl/ T W^-^l""^^^ ^* ^*« '^«^- then unquestionably the cCXou-^ht to -Iv f' 1 i !'°™' ^^P'^'^^*' Tliis advice was not taken ^n. n W^ /P ^ '''' a egislative enactment. outofthedetern.i::::titftof::S;tttw" ''^'-''''^^ ^^^« -- the civil'court, ^^ ^l^^ ^^^^^^ ^T ^7 '"^'^ '' one part of the Church solemn W .1? ^ if; ^^I'lch court. The moment dote/n,ined to treat ;:^e as rt tn" ^^^^^^^ T] ""*'"'" "'^^'""^^ Churches, and their separationl'Sr Lttb'e""' '^"°^^ ^"^"*"^ *- sion^r:!s:'t5!;r ^ "Am^';:;:;v:7^ir ^ ?^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ °pp-«- and on the successive days ofZ^^M^Zf. ! '''"^'"" P'""*^' "P"^ *''**> manner-a smiliu- tone of cm 1? -^i' i"*" '^"' ""'' '"^'^•'"""^ levity of calm, cool, brav^"^aZVte ^ ' T^' "^"''^ '""'"".^ *^ •^'^^' '^^^^ what vinc^dmethatth^oldallsobm;, Jr *T ^1'^^^^"*^ ^^"^'^ ««^- feeling from the vo n^er and n! P , " ''''•'^'■' ^""* ^ ^^^^ ^l'«"^"^e»t was weenintr • l.i.f . • „ u**^'", good man) ot ht. Johns, G aH'^ow ces ion some 'we e ^uZZ!^' «tanng round the church. So h. the'pri and cast m Iv ,' i' . ,"'' T'''''^ •" *'''" ^««««^Wy was •struck by the snail im^orjcTveml tl" '' r '' '"r '''^ '*• ^"* ^^'^ ^ ^"'^ their hearts we.e wtn S IcT f "r'f"^ '"^'' "" ^* *" ^^'"^ ^'"^^ •''^'''^ ning of such a grl revi on ' t'^ f "" '""'" *^ '^^ ^ "^ ^'^' ^'"^i"" Asst^nblies are, ma ters S^^^^^^^^^^ The hi ''"'"", "r'.^^"**' f ^l.e two and along the line of procetlll^n ^...^ t'l^ldl^r ^'^^""« ^" ''' ^''''^'' Ji; ! ii 1i:: 1 1 I ; 1 134 LIFE OF NOEMAN MACLEOD, ** The Assembly was called upon to perform a work full of difficulty, and to do such unpopular things as restoringthe Strathbogie ministers, rescinding the Veto, &c. We were hissed by the mob in the galleries, looked coldly on by many Christians, ridiculed as enemies to the true Church, as lovers of ourselves, seeking the fleece; and yet what was nearest my own heart and that of my friends was the wish to preserve this Establishment for the well- being of Britain. While 'the persecuted martyrs of the covenant' met amid the huzzas and applauses of the multitude, with thousands of pounds daily pouring in upon them, and nothing to do but what was in the highest degree popular; nothing but self-denial and a desire to sacrifice name and fame, and all but honour, to my country, could have kept me in the Assem- bly. There was one feature of the Assembly which I shall never forget, and that was the/ei;erof secession, the restless, nervous desire to fly to the Free Church. No new truth had come to light, no new event had been developed, but there was a species of frenzy which seized men, and away they went. One man ( , of ) said to me, 'I must go ; I am a lover of the Establishment, but last autumn I signed the convocation resolutions. All my people will leave me. I never will take a church left vacant by my seceding brethren. If I do not, I am a beggar. If I stay I lose all charac- ter. I must goi' and away he went, sick at heart; and many I know have been unconsciously led step by step, by meetings, by pledges, by rash state- ments, into a position which they sincerely lament but cannot help. There are many unwilling Latimers in that body. This 1 know right well. It amuses lue, who have been much behind the scenes, to read the lithographed names of some as hollow-hearted fellows as ever ruined a country from^ love of glory and applause. But there are also many others there who would do honour to any cause. " What is to be the upshot of this 1 " 1 . The fii-st rock I fear is fanaticism in Ross-shire and other parts of the country, such as has been witnessed only in America. I have already heard of scenes and expressions which would hardly be credited. (^Fov. — The riots in Ross-shire show this has been fulfilled !) " 2. A union with all the Voluntaries to overthrow the Establishments of this country. " 3. Ecclesiastical despotism on the part of the laity and influential clergy. " 4. The consequence of this will ba^ the retiring of the more sober- minded from their ramks. " 5. Action, excitement, and perpetual motion are absolutely necessary to the existence of this Free Church ; and it is impossible as yet to foresee whether it will blow up itself, or blow up the whole British constitution, or sink into paltry dissent. " I ho[)e it "will also stir up the Establishment and purify us, make us more self-siicrificing and self-denying than ever, and so all these disasters may advance the Redeemer's glory. ''Aug. 14.— What an important period of my personal history has passed since I wrote my last Diary ! Since the division in the Presbytery of Irvine until this moment the troubles in the Church, the writing of pamphlets, the disruption, tlu; Aaserubly, the preachings, tlu^ )vtt,(Mi:Z:^^^£r ^ ^-f «^^- The reforming opposed the ' Moderates;- ai^^ formed a kin Jn7 ^ ^I ^"*^^ '^^ ' '''^^^^^ We are now as Dr. Thomaon w^ T;1L';";,\.:',;^^^ ^ ^ «*™ng pai.y. powers of the Establishment are better deCd %. f *'f '"J"*' "*" *'^« a lesson not to reform beyond these In its t.t 7f ' ^'^'""''^^ '•^'^^^*^*^ will exliibit a strong party determinon', , -'^'r^ "^^-^^ Assembly possible within these limits and fossh! P"P"''r« *^/« ^''^^^-^l^ as far as part, I think it is a principle a 'li- - 'f^'f *^^"'"- ^"^^ "^7 ^^^ ceptable to the people, as £ Vwbi^ nl T''*T,' *^ ^*^" *'»« ^^*»»^J» ^c- tho struggle against pktronieis to L^ .^'^ i"" Tr"^^" ^ ^'-^t^^^^ ^^^nk see its death. *The q^iestion^^iH soon be tnVd ' '"^^ 'Vr ^'''^^^ ^^^'-^''^ -"^ hshment or disestablishment I wnnll V'' '■*'P"''lican Church Estab- tor.edeweshallbeor,S^Hj;::;r^,^rdr"'^'^^^^ If we attempt The reason why I can conscientiously remain in the Churcii is simply 4 : I 1^' 136 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. ;> 4f because I believe I have spiritual liberty to obey every thing in God's Word. I know of no verse in it which I cannot obey as well as any seceder can. This suffices me. " During this controversy I published two small brochures entitled 'Cracks about the Kii'k for Kintra Folk.' The first sold well. It went through eight editions one thousand each, the second through four. They did much good. " Since the disruption I have been offered the first charge of Cupar, Fife ; Maybole ; Campsie (by all the male communicants) ; St. John's, Edinburgh ; St. Ninian's, Stirlingshire ; Tolbooth, Edinburgh; and the elders and others in the West Church, Greenock, have petitioned for me. As yet I have refused all but the last two. These have only come under my notice last week. " I shall ever bear in my heart a gi-ateful remembrance of the kindness and deep Christian affection shown to me by the people here. When I nearly accepted Campsie, I found many whom I thought rocks, sending forth tears, and gathered fruit from Avhat appeared stony ground. God has, I believe, blessed my ministry. Now, all this and ten times more than I can mention occurred just as I had made up my mind not to go to Campsie. "Oct. \Q>th. — I was elected on the 16th of September to the Tolbooth Church, Edinburgh, unanimously. On the 17th of the same month the Duke of Buccleuch's Commissioner, Mr. Scott Moncrieff, came here and of- fered me the j>arish of Dalkeith. *' On the very day of my election to Edinburgh, I went to see Dalkeith ; and on my return home I sent a letter acce2:)ting it. One reason among others for preferring Dalkeith to Edinburgh is, that I prefer a country parish to a town because I am in better health, and because the fever and excitement and the kind of work on Sabbath days and week days in Edin- burgh would do me much harm, bodily and spiritually. " But why do I leave Loudoun — dear, dear Loudoun ? Because [Here follows a blank page, and on it is this entry : — ^] "1845. — Reviewing this, I find this page blank. Why, I cannot tell; perliaps hai'dly knew. But I know I was convinced that I ought to aco(>i>t Dalkeith, and I do not repent as far as Dalkeith is concerned — but poor Loudoun ! " To Rev. Wm. Leitch :— "July 21, 1843. " I have been fearfully occupied of late. Indeed I am sick — sick of books, pamphlets, parsons, and parishes, Would we had an Inquisition ! One glorious auto-da-fe would finish the whole question ! " As to the question, I think we are now at dead ebb in the country, and that for the time to come tlie tide will change, and in a century or so — such is the genius of restless Presbyterianism — it will begin to ebb again. Our ecclesiastical maxima and minima seem to alternate or oscillate every liun- '^red yeais or so. I hate — by tlie way — above all things a Presbyterian rcvoliition, Tliere is always something Chartist or fanatic about it. The jus dim-' Mm being stamped upon every leading ecclesiastic, everything in the civilized world must be overthrown wliich stands in the way of his notions being realized. I think the piesent Establishment has indirectly saved the ■ncjuarchy." THE DISRUPTION CONTMOVERSY. 137 To hiH aiBter Jane :— „r "KuiKTOs(OAsn.sK), j;<,(,„rf„5 Ight.isa been r^ri™:^ mn.i^llZZ':! "" *" f'^ *^y- «'«' "-^ departed are rineinff in mv ears I hov^ «.,«• , ""^^- , -^^^e voices of the is horrid ; deareft, I ne2 Ztd live hire r" ""'"' '" ^ '^^ *'"■ ^* ?'o John Mackintosh, at Cambrirlge •— noise and turmoil of mortal Ln anTt]f«fi.f ?"??"'' '^^'"' ^'^^ ^^^^ ^^'<^ our souls in solitude became^alATnd s^^^^^^^^^^^ ''''''' ^^^^^ »fe, gazed as we lay half asleen rborlv fll T ''', ^^"^ '''y «^ ^^^<^^ ^e brackens or the WoomingShe, CW S l?\' w^u ^^'°"'' ^"^""-^ ^^e Scotch Presbytery or olneTai Assemh IVt f ^^^''^ ^' "^ «^««^be? of a food and raiment-the rSn^and sSdn^^ T^ '•^'^' ^^^^^^^"^ ^^^^ ^^^ leisure to go a-angling' ? De'ar old souP^ f"'^-the singing of larks-and quiet, and a good^man^, .. Mls^a^^^^^^^^^^ ?' tJr''' '' ^T^ ^"^ been a member of any committee alonaS — ""Tn^S ^^^^ certain. Don't be angry, dear John • Do wJ~7 .'^"d Co. That is or cry just as I feel iirdSed We shaJ slide TrTtnt"'' "^'^^ ^^^ "^^^ «»"1^ enough. "'^" ^^^d*^ "1*0 business and gravity soon us^wmortL^'^^tt^S ^^ ^^f g^-ranteed to Church, except during a shoTpl'od ever S^ ^''''' ^"^ ^' "^"^^ ^« ^h^ for any reasoA which L think Snts lim ^l' f ' '^" ''^''''* ^ P^^^^^^ee all the power the Church evTi had SimT i .''''^ "''^'"' ' ''""^ *'"« ^^ itself a sufficient reason forTeje^tlng a pitSr' "" "^^"' ^^^^"^^ ^ do, <^h:ns^tKs':'s:5,/ra«^ ^ *^^ ?"^* «^ ^-- - much freedom to obey in the Clu'i as ^i t of if'f "'"I\ ' ''^"^^ ^'' - my heart and say, 'I leave the Es iblkT ! V i" ''''''.''°* ^''>^ "^^ ^^''^'^d «" Christ, or do so m ich for His itv In tit ^f!^'^^ ^^ ^ cannot obev saved from the feaiful exc" ment Tn 1 ^^ ^* '^' ^ ^^'^''^ ««d I was during May. I have ^::^i:!:^t^';tSr ^^""^ '''''''' ^^^ ^^ Ban.&h the idea of m y ever ceasin- to \nlTL i Yon know my latitudinaLi p^i^S "e^ ,1 "^ r^cE '"^ '^"^ ^''"*''- old clothes. I value each form in 1 ronortion n« U \^ government- man more meet for Heaven At tl p Tr..! . r ^'""' *''*" ^^^ of making bility of weakening the Sblish^ent^trt I'T ^ 7"^"^ ''''''' *^« r^«P«"«i breakwater against the waves of de^^^^^ P-testantismithat a nation's righteousness-tint belnv^rl^ f"^ f 1° revolution-that ark of but .o-e beloved i„ the ■^;^'^:^i:s::tS'z^!' " "^ *-"«'"■ /'rom his Journal :— K 138 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. is over which I shall ever enjoy as minister of this parish. The congrega- tion is dismissed— whither, oh whither 1 How many shall partake of tho feast above ? " I can hardly describe my feelings. I felt as if I had been at the funeral of a beloved Chrikjtian friend ; where I had experienced deep and unfeigned sorrow, but mingled with much to comfort and cheer. " I thank a gracious God for the support He has given. And though I wept sore and had a severe day, I did not repent of the choice I had made. Dear, dear Loudoun has been an oasis during these five years. But ' I am a stranger and a sojourner, as all my fathers were,' and I only pray God that my vows made this day may be performed, that my sins may be for- given, and that I may ever retain a lively sense of the mercies I have received. " There is a Church here, by the grace of G^^d. Oh, that God may keep it by His power, and send a pastor accoi-ding to His mind to feed it. ''Dec. IQth, Sabbath night, eleven. — This has been a solemn, yet a calm, peaceful, and I hope a profitable day for myself and the people. My last Sabbath in Loudoun as its minister! What a thing it is to write the last leaf of the book of my ministry, that has been open for nearly six years! "The parting with my evening congregation quite overcame me. I had a good greet in the pulpit when they were all going out, and I hope my prayers for forgiveness and acceptance were all heard and answered. "The coming hope at night with dear Jane (beloved companion— more than sister— of all my sunshine and shade) was the most affecting of all. The night was a dusky moonlight. About a hundred Sabbath-school child- ren had collected round the church gate, surrounded by gi-oups of women, and all so sad and sorrowful. As we came along, some one met us every twenty yards who was watching for us; and I shall never forget those sup- pressed sobs and clutchings of the hand, and deep and earnest 'God bless you !' * God be with you 1' "How many thoughts press upon me! The sins of the past. Thou know- est ! The mercy and love of God. The singular grace shown to me at this time. The good effected by me— by such a poor, vile, sinful worm. The gratitude of my people for the little I have done. The fear and trembling in entering on a new field of labour; the awful passing of time; the coming Judgment ! "Dec. I3th. — The last night in my study in my dear Manse of Loudoun, the scene of so many anxieties and communings — of sweet intercoui-se, of study, of sinful and unprofitable thoughts ! "I have had three days of tlie most deeply solemn and anxious scenes I have ever witnessed in this world! Oh, what overwhe'ming gratitude and affection! Let me never, never, never, O God, forget what I have seen and heard ! "I have done good— more than I knew of May the Lord advance it, and bless the seed; may He keep the beloved young Christian conimuni- cants, the rising Church. The Good Shepherd is always with them, and they will be fed as He pleases," I Jl CHAPTER IX. DALKEITH, DECEMBER, 1843-JUNE, 1845. cipal streets are duetiYofon^af^^ Population of 5,000. Its prin- of well^o-dotradesrnen; b^S^te^r'^1^^^^^ '"^ '^' ^'^'''^ able "closes" which here ami tL. ^ behind these, and the miser- the dens of as misemble a c as?^^^^^^^^ from them, consist mainly of Edinburgh or Glasgow TheiPwlf 1?.^' ^°^"^ ^" ^he purlieus of district of the paiiCand oiTe oTtwn' i "'''^ -"^' ^^ '^' '"^"^''^ mining village attached to hen Th rP r'' ^''l] '^' "^"'^^^type oT churclies belonging to varionf'.lpnr T^ '^*^''' ^own numerous chapel to the representative, n? ,f "T"f i^*""'' ^'''"' ^he Episcopal sent' But still t^ ctSg^^^^^^^^ 1. P-sbyterL L was a heavy one. Two clmrobp.l.oTnL 'V ^^'^ P^^^^^ minister but only oniof these IL hen olnt^ t ^^'^ ^^'''''^ ^^ ^^^^tland, has sinc^e been divide^" Ir of ^. eaf^Sf ^^ ^'"'l'^' ^'^'^^ now beautifully restored but at tW h.f,! i" i '"^ °\'^ P^^"^^ «^^^»'ch. tier above tier behind aid Uundfl 1 '1^°?'^ '''^^' galleries, rising of Scotch vandalisnrSre wo Vn ^''^P'^' ''^' "" ''''''^^' example esque in the confused ^^o^Z:^iJ^t:t' '' ^'^ P^^'^'" corner, and bearing quaint shield. Z.L i "* ^^''^^ ^0°^ and front of the seats atlolertotfent S T ' w' ^"^^lazoned in the congregation of how hil ZnT ^ ^^'"^ Weavers reminded shuttle,'^nd the 1 inLnn n oTl.^vf H^ iT^f^^/^^ '^'' ™^er's rocky heart in pieces "'''''"''" °^ ^^^^^ ^he W-n-d of God smote the o^'^:^£T't^::l!^ -7.^i«^-nt IVom those by many in every rank o fc ailr^^^ T^^^^^ /.? ^f ^o.^k in Dalkeith families remarkable at on re fo t lu ir n u '^T^ "endships witli But the working-men of SilkeTth di I If '''"? ''^^«^°"« ^^'^^rmth. interest in publfc quest onsevhiced^il '^'''' ^^'' ^'^'^ intellectual Darvel, nor were they possesled o^ thpn 7TT f ^^^^^"^1"^ and love of books. The piSn ' ton^ >i ^ Z"*'^^'' ^^^ enthusiasm and There was, besides, i Sm" oTs^ i ^^t^r^^^^^^^ to"^-^ P--ic. Ihe very names of some of tlm -vL' 7 .y"?"S'i to be appalling. 140 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD, In such haunts there was to be found an amount of poverty, ignorance, and squalor, easy to reach so long as the question was one of alms- giving, but wliich it appeared almost impossible to reform. Yet the missionary labour among the lapsed classes of Dalkeith, on which he now entered, formed useful training for his future work' in Glasgow. In Dalkeith he made his first efforts in the direction of tliat congregational organization, which was subsequently developed with such success in the Barony. He held special week-day meetings to impart information to his people respecting missionary enterprise at home and abroad, and establislied associations for the systematic col- lection of funds in support of the work of the Church. He also sought to utilise the life and zeal of tlie communicants by giving them direct labour among 'their poor and ignorant neighbours. He personally visited both rich and poor, and opened mission stations in three differ- ent localities, where regular services were held on Sundays, and sewing and evening classes were taught during the week. He formed a loan- fund to help those who were anxious to help themselves, and although often disappointed, yet experience, on the wliole, continued his belief as to the benefit of frankly trusting working-men with means for pro- viding for themselves better houses and better clothes. Drunkenness was, as usual, the root-evil of most of the misery, and he strained every effort to grapple witli its ])0wer. He did not join any temper- ance society, but in order to help those he was trying to reform, he entered with them, for a considerable period, into a compact of total abstinence. The results of tliese experiences he aiterwards gave to the public in a tract entitled "A Plea for Temperance." The seat of the noble family of P>uccleuch is near the town of Dal- keith, and the town in many ways depends on the Pahice. The gates of the Park stand at the end of tlie Main Street, and lead into a wide demesne, affording to many families unlimited walks through forests of oak and beech, stretching for several thousand acres along the pic- turesque banks of the Esk. Few noV)lemen realise more fully than the Duke of Buccleuch the res])onsii.ilities .attached to jnoperty, or are more anxious to discharge faithfully the duties of tiieir high station. His generosity, his chivalrous honour and lofty tone of mind endear him personally to all Scotchmen. Yet, oven with so favourable an exami)le, Nonniin l^Tacleod perceived the grave practical evils attendiii'' that alienation of the nobility and gentry of Scotland from the national religion wliich has beijome of late; years so prevalent. The causes that have mainly produced this result are easily discovered. It is natural that among men educated in Kngland, and iiccustoined to the liturgy of her venerable Church, many should liiul the ])ald simplicity and extempore prayers ol the Church of Scotland distasteful. The forms of worship which are so dear to tlu! mass of the people, are unedil'ymg to tliem. NiT \-~ it to be woiv.h'i'ed ut if the clieap and ULdy barns, which the heritors of Scotland have treiiuently erected as parish churches, should so otfeiid the tastes of these lierit(»rs themselves as to i / I DALKEITH, DECEMBER 184S-JUNE, 1845. 141 drive them away from the ungainly waUs. The ecclesiastical disputes too which have recently torn Scotland asunder, have perhaps repelled not a few, and made them seek the peaceful retirement of a commun on which has not been identified for centurie. with any naticmTmovP^ ment. However this may be, the great Earls and Barons who us^d by their presence, to give an importance to the deUberations of the General Assembly scarcely second to tl.at of the debates of Parliament nave now few representatives on her benches, so that those of t^Te clergy who have s ruggled under many difficulties to increase the use! ulness, elevate the tone, and improve the services of the Church hPv . T" 1 i'''''^'.f '^'1 '"PI^'^^'^ ^"''^"^ '^'^ ^"Sher classes to whTch hey natiirally deem hemselves entitled. And Norman Macleod de- plored the division which had grown up between the nol>iiity and th. people for reasons besides thosB which affect the stability of the national Church. He saw that wl.at absenteeism was doiif. in Ire' hind in subverting the loyalty of the masses was, in a sniallei- degree yet unmistakeably, being accomplished in Scotland. "The arisiocmcy do not know what they are doing," he used frequently to say • " thev are making tliemselves tl.e most powerful insl'ruments lor ad;anc ng democracy and ot ruining tlie inlhience of their own or.ler " JUMt with more than his usual warmth, that those loyal attachments which spring up when common sympathies and asiociations un£, ckss ^Mth class, and which are so mucli cahnilaled to sweeten the atmos- phere of social rmd political lile, are severely checked, when those X ought to be leaders in all that afJects the deeper life of the peop e .ve as toreigners and aliens, and by refusing to worship with tE 1 esbytenan eoun rynien, throw discredit, not^merdy on he National Church, but on the national faith. Pecuniary or political sum" t Wver largely accorded, cannot counterbalance such personal aHeiuv- f b JT,.l'" ^''Tf^y "^ J^l^l'^^'ith to Edinburgh he was able to study the working of the cominittees entrusted witli the control of the h^sSr^Tl '*•''" "^^ •"■''•' '";^ '' ^^"^^ ^'^« "^^1 i" reconstruct g h. 1 missions. Iho imprcssmus pro.hiced by this experience were nut encouraging, lor whde he entertained a prolound personal respect alunr T'^^'r;'"^ the business of the ihurch, he gro n d t u'r " '"'f H n''' ''"^^ enthusiasm, lie soon lear.u.1 that there were causes lor the slowness of progress lyii,.' deeper than I'lults y^:Z'lT^ "•',':;^ l-nenuaion; p;;sed ^om the^auuln u t E I urgh te the indillerenco of many in the miuLstry, and of the Church at large. Morning, noon, and nioht his thoughts turned k>wnr.i. the revival ot the zeal and the .leveh.pement of tJu- resources o ho Church " I am low-low about the old machine-no men. no guules, no lighthouses, no moulding master-spirit." C.uisumed with lien t!io ojijuHtunity was offered of makuiff •usiness. The lirst work assigned to him, as Mission. He was sent aiixint ii> ttti \\'i'K.'areul w born. f t- iuul i DALKEITH, DECEMBEB. UiZ-JVNE. 1845. 145 ;• All ready, 8ir. "your guns! AU ready fore and aft ? " Hoist and fire away ! *' Three cheers ! ! ! '•Load. Fire! Three cheers ! 1 1 ijoad again. Fire ! " Three tremendous cheers < M * For the Laird of Kildalloig! eve;^;rrt7Sp" t^^t^^^^^ c^ted in, for once ceased to look stem. The saHs tWh « % •^'' ^^^^ ^''"'«' ^^^ lng?U of a rope, for which the doctor had stucHn f '"''^ ^"^^ ^''^'^ ^^e and recommended wet sheets, nevertheless MnipS .Z^ ^""'^^" oi leeches ^ the top gallants said sweet thinS Lo fW 7^" ^"^ '""^h pleased though rather high and complaining of IIT, y ^'' '"^'^^- The royals The chain-cable sung « Old £^7 ' whi 71^ T*''^' ^"^^^ '^^^ ^ (anchor). The mpto began to^make Io7p tn .1 ' .^^f ^°^*^r cried encore / to be a great catch, but who preferred Z^ht '"''^^''"' ^^'^ ^«« thought The ioa^^a^•n took the ship rounHf'Zr L'^'' Tr'-"^ ^^« '^''^A- tor his impertinence. He said it was 111 / • ? /^ '* ^^'^"^ ^*« ^'™ out of his wits with joy-quite l^cZnltXt'^l- 7^^ ^^'^^''^^ -as had more conwm^ than anv in tho X;. ^ f ' ^® ^^'^^^ »ev. . s»o/fce • he or getting hard u'p. Th7if ^^v ^^ f^^ fTK^'^'^^^ S^.^^^^ ^^^ ^- gave a mew which was heard a mfle off am ta^.''^- i ^t '^'''-^f-^^t^^ which was embracing the cat-head^^^ ^L^fir'ff^ ^^^ best-bower, 6«oy roused up the dead lights, who nisheT?.L ''T^ ^*^' ^*- ^he //^: who began to weep tears of joy r^^tnL ^ ^^^T"^ *^^ ^««^ «y«*, ments. The two davits said t^y won d ouf of "^1- ^'^'^ ^^^^'^"" ^a- call themselves after the two Johm Th^Jl "^ ^TP^'^^ent to the laird, marmge that he swore he wouldlt be cheaS^r^^ ''' ''' ^^ ^«^« ^^^h another companion as soon as possiWo tL ^^ * ""^''^ «'^^«' but get .T^. ^«^",^ P*y his addresse^sSthe cuTt T,'^T ''^^^ ^^'^ * P"^*. that he kicked the 6^,c^e^. while «ieL "ft *S';, ^he launch got so jealous nnd try and earn a good character so as to^et in.''^^' ^°"''^ *"''" «I'^a»ly, guns offered their services to all wl ,^ ^^ ''''''* *° ^ ^^olystorw,. The "11 and sundry can(n)onlX[lTtr^^^^^ n.^ry bock-heads alone were confused, but even tlov "^ .T '^'^ ^«''«^^«"- The heir ,/,eam The very ma^^hoCl^ak! I ^ f '^ /''ey would contribute fake keel for once spoke t. ut!?. s;;ir h ue've? ^^ '' ''"i.^"^"- ^'"^ ' ^^^ "l- "wi^'wV^" *"""'« «^'^" this mystery ''"'" '"'^ ^"°' ^^^^ that he What the effects of all <1 • • "V J''" above marriages had token IceTtftti: t'^r °"^."^" ^«" ^^ '^" ^^e bemg spliced (the »»ar/m7Ji/fc«;^fn„'' ^ *" P*''^'^" -'>r« ready for w»s ,leep in pcW B,,t ir tlfe mortilT, '"'''''''^ *' ^'^« ^«""d ov!!^;^ ' ^ ::^J±^!A'^^^^ ?ol'"r: r..t ^-^^ of the :-■ """'° "" '^'"'^ he has been Jannohml iT''^ .'?^ ^^^ o^"*" ti»e aor doth „v„ W, Ui, „.^ l.« TvXtL&t 'of ^"™'''"" " M/ bu« ueim of oonscionce, if! i. ... , ji 146 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. and go by the ciart of dHty and the compass of tnith ; and may every Wvese tbftt blows and every sea that dashes carry him nearer a good havim !' « Hurrah ^ T9 kia MxyvHKR :— "Dalkeith, Sunday, 1845. ' i «' Alter working very hard during the week, 1 rose to-day at half-pa.st six, sMtdied tBi nine, taught my sdiool till eleven, pr«v ^hf^ ;„rennon and after- noon long sermons, had baptisms, slept for an ho ^ , "hed for an houx to fifty outcasts in the wynd, was my own precentoi -3rk, and here I am as fredi as a lork — a pulse going like a chronometfx, and a heaJ calm, and clear and cool as a mountain spring. But my chief reason for writing you to-night is to tell you a story which has amused me. " On ocMning home this evening I saw a number of boys following and speaking to, and apparently teasing, a little boy who, with his hands in his pockets and all in rags, was creeping along close by the wall. He seemed like a tame caged bird which had got loose and was pecked at and tormented by wild birds. His cut was something like this. I asked the boys who he was. ' Ki ! he's a wee boy gaun' about begging, wi'out faither or mither !' He did seem very wee, poor child — a pretty boy, only nine years old. I found him near my gate and took him in. I asked him to tell me the truth. He SMd his ^ther was alive — a J ohn Swan, in Kirkaldy ; that his ' ain miiber ' wm dead ; that he had a stepmother ; that * a month and a week ago ' he left them, for they used to send him to beg, to drink the money he got, and to thrash him if he brought none in ; and that they sent him out one evening and he loft them. He got threepence from a gentle- man and crossed in the atetimboat to Leith. He had heard that he was bom in Kirkhill near this, ' and that his m:tlu;r lived there wi' him when he was a bairn.' He retvched a stable, and there he ha.s been ever since, begging round the district. Poor infant ! Jessie, my servant, once a ser- vant in some charitable institution, was most minute in her questionings about Kirkaldy ; but his answers were all correct and very innocent. Well, a few minutes after, Jessie came in. ' What,' said I, ' are you doing with the boy V ' Oo, I gied him hus supj^cr, puir thing, and am making a shake- down for him ; and, ye see, I saw he wtis vena dirty, and I pit him in a tub o' water, and he's stannin in't ee' noo till I gang l>en. That's the way we used to do in the Institution. Eh ! if ye saw the boys frae the Hielans that used tao come there ! Keep me ! I couldna eat for a week pfter clcannin them ; and wee Swan is just as bad. I watlna tell ye hoo dirty he is, puir bairn ! I coiddna thole tae pit him tae his bit bed yon way. 1 ca.st a' his dud« outside the door, and sent Mary Ann straight up tae the factor's for a Htiek foe Kim J for ye see whan we waslied tliem in the Institution ' ' Be oft",' sud I, ' and don't keep the poor fellow in tlie tub longer.' I went in, a fow minutsa a^, and there I found him, or rather saw sometliing like a ghmit ajmoDgst oiiat, Jessie aonibbing at him, and seeming to enjoy the work with all her hewt. ' How do you like it f • Fine, fine !' But just as 1 wrote the abor* word, the door was opened, and in marches my {)oor boy, ■--- ^^„,i ;^, k. "^ — '-- kj>^»j kiPnl boy. cie&n as a bMad, but with nothing OB but a Wge beMitiful ofoaa skirt, his hair combed and divided ; and DALKEITH, \ DECEMBER, lUZ-JUNE, 1845. , , xu^u. 147 Jessie gazmg on him with admiration TVr«r^ a • . ^ boy hardly opened his Hpfh^S round 'v ^-^^^round. The There he IS,' said Jessie; ' I am sure ye're inZ/^ '" ? bewilderment. lad. Whan wer ye clean afore V ^Three months ^^^"^^ *^« ^^S^^^ my tT ^^"'' ^ :^'' ' What will ye do nc^r vith our fuM complement S Z am tb f ^^r' ^^^'^^'^ «--« into ba^ ens^rns have come out majo.-s S i m '^^"^''>"' ^^^''^ »'^«" «o great that without t.Ue„t or experience '^^''^-"^^-''•«. ^ith rank and uniYov^/K sfn ull la^anZr^^^^^^^ and crossing and recrossing between us and tt Z^- Yf" 'f^^ ^^ ^«»«f. aolemn and touching chimt; then silence l! ^^ '^^ - '^"'^ * °^°«* over the sea. I can hardly Express he str^n^fl^ t"^- ^""^ ^^^^ «^« could not but think of it in nights of storrafd d ?^*' ^^Buggested. On« warnmg to the sailor, and its note of weLme tS «^^^^ 'T^^^*^ "°*« «f dirge. It was so on the awful 7th of IT^T ^ ^"^^ V^rUv^ its funeral was shipwrecked on these Cks when T. 7' ^^T '^^ ^^^ ^ork Liner ranged as he discovered that^S lijhuh n hlf f'^-f " '^^'^^ §«* de- .^rr^^-^ •' i ««"id not but think t\v«' ''S^^^'^'^t' ^"^ ^"^«^ fr«^ that It had all the feeling of beLVdesert.rl? "'^ ^""^ "^^^ ^""^ lonely : poor Vanderdecken had who h Jl.f \^ ^^^^ °^ ^^^^rs like what aid; and so the bell ^hLllMluL"!^^'^'^' '"' u^° ""^^ «-« to S warning to all who heard it "^s^ aTay r ^^'"'"^' ^"* ^* «"^^ P^^^^d a When I looked inf a n^ a- . "^'r ^ea. evidently dyinglr^dX^^^^n'^^^^^^ ^^f P- emaciated man. and found he was an American 4o had lefTp'; \ T^l ^^^^y ^ ^^' a sea voyage would do hi,n good R?,f 1 '''' ^°'^^' ^^^^^^' thinking state. In the evening n L..^ •' ^® "^^^ ^^^ returning in a dvin* a berth nearer Xe"-?' '"/slTSmS 'T. "^ '^ ."^^' remVed\S to' versation with him about theTtate oS? In S^""'^^ ^^^ S°* ^^t« ««"- but teachable. He had attend da Un^ arian r, ^' ^f'^ "^^^ '^^'^-^ with him and to come to lum anv hn„r l! \ ^P"''" ^ Promised to read told him I was a clergyman mtZJ^ ^'"^'^ ' ^^^« ^'"^ ^^ ^^^^ and was alive, but his niS was dead anVS ^"""Yf' ^' '^'^ ^' ^-'^^- day on these things. Poor fellow IP«T ^ "'^"^ *° ^P^^^ to him every that in his last hours heTad beTde M^^^ '' T' '^ ^°'^^^^^ ^ ^'^ Pravers^ " Saturday/, 2Ut.--pZt^th^ ^^'f? '^^? '^^^^ *« ^im the truth, nine o'clock.*"' I am very [h^fuTthat Th f' ?^f l"'^'""^"^- »« died at "^'aifia^A. 22^.-.RoL elfy 'S.f^J^T ''f^ ^P^^king to him. eovered by a flag and placed on a nlanl ? ^ T" ^''^''y- '^^^ ^^^^ ^^ attended were dressed d their white trousers '^ " ^'l' ^« '^^'^ ^^^ gathered round. We read togetW the S, f "^^^^ ^J^^e passengers were dead. When we came to the portion of ,, ''''''''''!^' t^e buritl of the mitted to the deep, the plank wLshovil fn' '''T^.^^''' *^« ^ody is corn- one end being elevated, the coCsHdf ""'/ 7'^^ *^« '^^'^ ^^ it, and splash, and hi remains were conceld t^ ' nf l!"^.'^ ''^'^ *^« ^^^^ ^ ^ give up its dead. concealed torever till the day that the sea shall "I read the Church of England spr--- • i ^ -gregatio,,, a„d John p^acW on th;'L't? • t^TlT^elr^r."-' ¥■ l!5 i m I f ZIFU OF NORMAN MACLEOD. To the Samb :— • u. ?1^^'~ r" '^^'^e^gs foi- the first time in my life. The first time we sighted them they were gleaming like silver specks on the horizon : but their bulk soon became visible. NotMng could exceed the majesty and bea«ty of those masses coming from some mysterious source, and floating Mlentiy on the mighty ocean. We passed within two hundred yards of one. Ihe n(*e next the western waves waa hollowed into large caves, the preci- pice being only about twenty feet high. The mass was of the purest ala- baster white you can conceive, gleaming and glistening in the setting sun : the waves were dashing against aad undermining the island ; but as the sea rolled up foaming into these marble caves, it was of the deepest and purest bruTiul ''"'°'' ""^ *^^ ""^^""'^ ^^^"^ ^"^^ ^"""^ ^^"-^ ^^ exquisitely "In the afternoon the breeze increased, thick fog rolled over us We were all solemnized by the danger of coming thump upon an iceberg, which all agreed might take place, and, if so, instant destruction would follow A group of passengers met round the capstan under cover, and near the fun- nel, for warmth, for the air was piercingly cold, and every man seemed to vie with the others m telling dismal stories, chiefly from his own history, of tempests and shipwrecks and vessels on fii-e and destruction by icebergs. Ihe scene in the saloon was really striking. One of the passengers was playing the guitar beautifully, and it was strange to look round the group iutwiing to him Men from every part of Europe-a missionary bronzed with the sun of India, Protestant clergy and Catholic, officers and mer- chants, all met, having a common sympathy, only to scatter and never meet again ; without, were storm and mist and floating ice-islands ! How like it was to each one of us, floating on this mysterious sea of life, gleaming now beneath the sun, and again tossed about and covered by darkness and storm and soon to melt and disappear in the unfathomable gulf where all is stiP • 1 retired to rest with sober, and I trust profitable, reflections. Ther« was of course the feeling of possible danger, which might be sudden and destructive I committed myself to the caro of Him who holds the winds in the hollow of His hand. 1 read with comfort the 103rd Psalm I awoke, however in the middle of the night, and how I longed for the morn- ing ! How helpless I felt, and how my life passed before me like a panorama! Mturday.—Yoxi know my love of steam engines, and certainly it has not been lessened by what I have seen in the Acadia. What a wonderful sight it is m a dark and stormy night to gaze down and see those great fur- naces roaring and raging, and a band of black firemen laughing and iokinir opiKMite their red-hot throats 1 and then to see that majastic engine with ita great shafts and polished rods moving so regularly night and day, and drlv mg on this huge mass with iiresistible force against the waves and storma of the Atlantic I If the work glorifies the intellect of the human work- man, what a work is man himself! " ASWt J^n slf ff "^^^^ ^""^r^ds had were seen dotting the surface We '^wf "^^^^g dozens of boats of the opposite shore towards Pictou Ah / ^r""'"^ ^^°^ «^«ry p«rt during the forenoon. Hundreds on J, v "^ ''''^ thousand people crtCd carts, were streaming i^t" town ^^'^^^^'^'^l^ f^^ on foot, in ^gs, ^^ went tothe church L our pu^ gotLfe^ \ Simpfof a^d l' faoii^d the first con,munion table^I SXl oh'' ^^P^V^^^hed and ex- the Ross-shire notions of commu^L^a e ' ,vll . 7' ^"^ *^"« ^^ ^^l^ ^or time m my second addross in try^n^to 'movr "J ^''!\ ^ °^^"P'«d ^;me Ideas as are entertained by manr Wirn «"'^ ''"^"' '^"^ superstitious address I went to the tent/ it was on 1 ^^'.^f P«on gave the concluding beheld the most touching and m ^ e^sirV '^^^^ ^ -««i»«d it i (in addition to the crowd we hadTeft ' S J .. ^t^^"^' ^here were people here assembled I John haJl fi , '■^"''*^^') '*^o"t ^ur thousan-' «t.inding with his ].ead bare at he Wc'";.? "'^^ ^'^Hc sermon. uZ:, was about to exhort the communicant "t '' ^^'"^ comnn.nion tabTe%o^ «ie old elders, and a mighty msTofetnll 7 ^"^ f «'''"^"' «"'« space for f on ended, I entered the U-n and llTT ^^''f ' ^''^^"d. The exhorta ■mposing sights in my life l^.t S f« "'""'r' ' ^ ^'*^« «««" ffrand and hat table, along whi.h were ow " Z 'TT^'^' *^'^'" ""• As ™od on ^Is of the Bo( I ' ZIF£! OF NORMAN MACLEOD. a flw;k in the lonely wilderness— as these and ten thousand other thoughts tiled my heart, amidst the most awful sUer j, broken only by sobs which came from the Lord's Table, can you wonder that I hid my face and * lifted up my voice and wopti' Yet how thankful, how deeply thankful was I to have been privileged to see a sight here in connection with the Church of Scotland which the Highlands of Scotland, even the Lowlands, could not aflFord I Oh that my father had been with us ! what a welcome he would have received I An address signed by two thousand has this moment been presented^ Forty deputies from the Churches came with it. V "15».w. „t.ij 1 ._ . ' ^" ,.":■ ■"■"' ="■" came U) (j»i)e Breton lunl a*,xiA e " " """tt^'° ^ Jewign ^uilermg great menta, distr e'ss, he CZ^'^X loZ :LT:^,^^^ II I I 158 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. He began preaching among the Highlanders. His preaching had great effect. He separated himself from the other clergy, becaiise he thought them careless and bad. His sect became stronger and stronger. Many wild extravagancies attended the * revivals ' under him, crying out and screaming-fits of hysteria, which were attributed to extraordinary influences. The result, however, has been that three thousand people, including fifteen hundred communicants, adhere to him ; he has eight churches built and twenty-one prayer-meetings established ; no lay-preaching ; elders in all the churches ; sacraments administered. He keeps all a-going, and has never received more than £50 a-year on an average. He is laughed at by some, ridiculed by others, avoided by the clergy ; but all admit that he has changed, or been the means of changing, a thousand lawless, drunken peo- ple into sober, decent, godly livers. This man, then ordered, all his churches to be put at our service, and sent an invitation through his elders for me to preach. Of course I will preach wherever I am asked — in a popish church, if they will let me. The worse the field the more the need of cultivation. I reached the church about twelve ; McDonald, with his snow-white locks, surrounded by a crowd, met me. ' I rejoice,' he said, taking ofi" his hat, * to see here an ordained minister of the Church of Scotland. I bless God for the day. I appeal to you, my people, if I have not preached the doc- trines of the Confession of Faith, if I have not kept you from Baptists, Methodists, and every sect, for the Church of your fathers. Welcome, sir, here.' I said we would talk after sermon. I entered the humble wooden kirk ; it was seated for about three hundred, and was crammed by a decent and most attentive audience ; twelve elders sat below the pulpit. McDonald, with a strong voice, led the psalmody, — he and his elders stand- ing. After service, I went with him to a farm-house. He gave me all his history, and we discussed all his doings. I frankly told him my opinions. He has had a hard time of it. ' Often,' he said, and his lip quivered with emotion, ' have I, on a commuuion season, preached, and served tables, for eight hours in that church, no one with me, and no food eaten all the while.* He seems now to feel the loss of not being in fellowship with the Church, and the resi)onsibility of leaving so many sheep without a shepherd ; and, if any good minister came to this neighbourhood, he is anxious to be read- mitted. When I parted from him, ho burst into teais, thanking mo for my ' kindness and delicacy to him,' and rejoicing in my having l>een with him. Hia people, they say, are very proud of it. Well, I would fain hope a real work has been done here. If there have been extravagancies, how many such were at Kilsyth and other places ; and surely l)ettor all this folly, vrith such good results, than cold and frigid reg\ilarity with no results but death. Better to be driven to the har.K)ur by a hurricane that carries away spars and sails, than be frozen up in the glittering and .smooth .sea. There are many things connected with McDonald's sect 1 don't approve of Two of his elders came to Cliarlotte Town to bid me farewell. I gave them many frank, ami, I thought, mipleasant adviceB. But to my suqirise, vhen part- ing, the old men put their arms about my neck, and imprinted a fai'owojil kiss on my cheek. . . . " Boston. — I have l)een actually thiee days in Tioston. Do you not think I am now well entitled to give a sound opinion tij)on American mannei'sY I have lived in oae of her hotols, Iteurd two of her prea r». n'>»n ^n^n n< ms.-mSTS AUEIilGA. i her Sahbath-schooIllege Hke^tlTcSlll o/rT'^ ^^ ^" ^"^bec". ^ *i»e "H« hjve heanl their matins^ ht^^^U'TT ^he savage' Julian While I conv«rc.^ ...:iL -. . ' .7? "" prowJed on the truJl «*• „° n„«f »; V ' «"»««o nke the •r intelligent friend. Sin^^ .'Tll ll" ^"7. wi,T T "' "'*'*'' mi wHiJe I conversed with ni not haln nvnriuioi'v. ' , -p,""v xiiTTuu, ninirraN. in Kin ..^w.— t i. ••n. —mL —"-—--5 uij wonaer, and I ajii sm^ 1.. '•" ' — "-■""'. i couid I Ill I if ^ tlH III I 160 £IF£ OF NORMAN MACLEOD. him to pray for me. If I am wrong, Protestant ! pardon my heretic heart, which must believe that many a sincere and spiritual soul knows and loves God, even when the follies and infirmities of old Adam make him sing hymns to the Virgin or adore the sacrifice of the mass. But I did not say this to Singras, but prayed God to bless him and make him a Protestant. "But I must resume my travels. There are beautiful fields between Eustache and La Chute. It was at Eustache the rebels made their last stand. They fortified the church. It was burnt by our troops, and one or two hundred burnt or shot. A Yorkshireman's account of the battle to me was this : — ' The lads tried to cross the ice, intending to attack the volun- teers. They didn't ken the right uns were oop oonder t' tree. Weel, aa thea rebels gied across, the right sodgers fired a ball. Gad ! it scored the ice as it hopped along, and over that score none o' t' rebels wad gang for life, but ran back tae d' choorch, where they were boomed — hang 'em !' " Perth, Sabbath Evening. — I have had the hardest week's work I ever had. I have gone about ninety miles sailing, and a hundred and twenty- seven driving, often in lumber waggons without springs, over the worst possible roads — have held fourteen services, and now, after having preached three long sermons to-day, I am, thank God ! well and happy. " I have seen much, and enjoyed myself. I have had peeps into real Cap dian life ; I have seen the true Indians in their encampment ; I have sailed far up (one hundred and fifty miles above Montreal) the noble Ot- tawa, and seen the lumber-men with their canoes and the North-wt s'ers on their way into the interior, some to cut timber, and some to hunt beaver for the Hudson Bay Company ; I have been shaken to atoms over ' cordu- roy' roads, and seen life in the backwoods ; and I have been privileged to preach to immortal souls, and to defend my poor and calumniated Church against many aspersions. "Perth, Monday Evening. — A journey of twenty-fou' miles is ended, and I have spoken two hours and a half This angry spirit of Churchism which has disturbed every fireside in Scotland, thunders at the door of every ahanty in the backwoods. I went to Lanark to-day to front it. The roads were fearful ; my hands are sore holding on by the waggon ; but such a de- licious atmosphere ; not a cloud in the sky, and so fresh and bracing. The delightful September weather is come ; the air is exhilarating almost to ex- citement. Then, in going through the forest, there is always something to break what would at first appear to be intolerable monotony. There are tall, majestic trunks of trees, which draw your eye upwards till it restn, on their tufted heads, far up in the sky ; or the sun is playing beautifully among the green leaves, or some strange fire suddenly appears ; or you catch glimpses of beautiful woodpeckers, with gay plumage, running up the tree, and hear the tap-tai>tap, like a little hamnior ; or you see a lovely pet of a squirrel, with bushy tail and bright eyes, running a race with you along the fence, stopping and gazing at you, then running with all his might to pass you, then frisking with its tail and playing all kinds of antics ; or you halt and litten to the intense silence, and perhaps hear an ivxe chop-chop-chop, — the great pioneer of civilization ; and then you suddenly come to a clear- ance, witli fine fields, and cattle with tinkling bolls, and happy children, and pigs, and, perhaps, a small school, and maybe a church, and almost ov- ^m.-NORTH AMERICA, wg seed, the word ilf x ^ ^Ihiirches consists in +7 • T^^°d live is all itself is nothil^'u aTa '* "^*^ *^« ^rounc te hea^"^ J^t"^ *^« ^^v- W, love, and^be* God iT IT^'^' ^^^^^t^gZendV^' i?^"^^^ and make the question of Vl, n? *" '^""^ "^en into the Ph u ^^^'^^ "» explaining the rt!, u *^^ ^^"^^^ of ScotlanrlT T"''''^ ^^ Christ, pefhaps tLe or fourth ?f °" ^"^^^^' a^^^ t^^ ^^^^ary matter. I„' f«ll credit to my opnoner T? ^" Per«oLS Ls al? aTr^' ^^"P^«« ^'ould not say if tC ^ ^""^ ^ t^^^^k I have S t-^ ^''^'' and give beside me. Indeed tT ^^P'?"^^*^ ^ere my he^ fXr^T"^ V^^^^ which I n^e) present at one oJ T *^^* ^ ^''^ GhVchllT'' ^"^ ^^''^ ^^^ting find fault with one eLf ^- "^'^* ^^^^esses, a ml' W f ''''. ^"^^""^^ *« hato a,..o/.i;a:fS^^^^^^^ ^ ^^ thank for i/' ^^ J^ ^°"^d not so dangerous. But 1! . . ''"^ ^'^ason why I think ^^^^^^ Jo" know how I I have generallv «n? ! ""^ *''^ ■'•'^^d««t feelin Wh«f ' ^''^^ niovement is this is n1)t Sifon^?. ""y 'Address by ^ a ^ •"'"P?^"^^^ ^* Parting ^ork. tL true Lf .') '' T^^ ''^^''"*^ ^4 on ^^f ™'"* ^' *^^« •' 'Yet aU and unbeliever- Z" w '1^" ^^^"•^«* atl tfelH 7" °" *^« ^ea preaching Bn/fi ■ "^^^ *^« battle which 7,"^°' ^''-between believers Christ Jesus rf ' '"" y°" ""<1 1 meet mS ™T,«™ m Ohrist. It ia day's work, it will ,mf i '""' "'»* 'H I can loni i , '"™'' S^'liored Jftiigh at poor S . v , • ^*'*"' ^ve ofsvnimfl„r ^ fi ^ ^^* '"« never and'' his S ^^^''^' \'' "**^« «ehool, br2n I f ^ t'"' ^^^^ ^ouhl m •ge ?;; i 'i h!' ■■-■ I h tit; LIFE OF NOBMAN MACLEOD. 162 .eaa and heart, and fit to ^f^l^^:^.^:^:^ ^ LinTHTn:^ laugh, though he had ^^^^^^^^^^^^ and most blan^eable will we at souls ! your reward is little in ^^^f ;^°^'^^^^^^^ ^f civilisation in the forest home be if we do not ^sist you the F^^^^e ?ght. The St. Lawrence, the «I shot the Long Sault ^apd. A noWe s^gW ^^^ ^ ^^^^^ ting of streams, becomes compressed ^;^^^^^^^°^/ uke a big burn after shoL The result is ^^ ^Se^^^Tur men at the wheel forward, and a spate. Away goes tl^^l'^^g^?*^^^^ Whirls, the spray flying over her four men at the tiller astern ; aown ^^e wniris ^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^he bows, and she going seventeen ^f ^ ^ ^°^^^ ^^^."^tic stream, crossed and shoots it nobly. It is a fine «}g^^ *«/f ^^'igHrook. The brook can be angry and plunging and foammg ake a pettish broo^ ^^^^^^^^ opLed; ^-^-^^JP^s aayWil -^^^^^ ^'Zl " Saturday, 16«/i.— Ihis aay s "^ readmg ' Honison s through the Lake of the Thousand Isles I ^ad tro ^^^ ^^^ Sketches of North America,' when a^^y' ^J^^. Like most things which — fLTtt^^c^^^^^^^^^^^^ -come up to the dream, but still ^^r,-^K^L^nleproceedea^^^^ to BellevUle. This bay is one of the ^^^^^ ^ ^jf^^^j, for the confined crib in glory and majesty, and I was l^^^^^ '{^^"^^^^^ ^eek, I heard a number in fhe Lall cabin. WhUe ^1 W on ^^e W^ td there found a dozen giXxr^Mi^^^ht^-^^^^^^ *^^^^"-^"^ ^°^™*"^ "^^^ plie, I speaking in high Fnglish «' Pray what language is that » « ' Gaelic, sir.' "'Where is that spoken] «' ' In the Highlands of Scotland. «' Is it a language ?' T?„„liqh is no ^ano^c^ae at all, at all.' « ' It's the only true laiigidge. Enghsh is no tany y « ' It must be banished ; it is savage. ^ me ^^Go as a thamig «^«|, /^^r- l^H'T/ o{r>^^^ the Isle of Sky e.) « ' The rmig mis as anjdean Sgw.ru. hi (^^^/^ ^, „ Highlander !) . ' OjheudaiU'Se m Campbeltown— 'Ochanee. ocrmn«^^^^ Mnrven entered. 'Do I NORTH AMERICA, jgg He thought he knew the brooch It waSv M'^ '^^ I '""^^ '^^^^• at Fiunary, given her by my uncle 1)3/^/ ^ TI' *^^ ^^^ ^«^-^« was Jenny's sister ! It is IkT^resZ^ttln ^f ^ ' ^^ *^« ^°'^*'^ And these form the strength of tirco^rv A T'* ^'^PJ" ^^ *^^« ^*y- mams, all is sound and well O M « w^r '.t"'^ *' *^^ ^^^ stock re- school, the simple manners the warm «Z?T °^^ «^"^«h. tlie old from Scotland, survive Te^ MaXt^^^^^^^ almost vanished Churchism, which is anSatingThe sTciafh«^/'^T^ Y '^' ^^^«« «-« ^^ mg her peasantry into bigots 7nd her w! ^^'^f of Scotland, and convert- " At /^et old Dr' M—i^lr^T^! "^^ f^""^^^ democrats > asked how they spent the SabhntL 1,0 •' ,^. . ^ ""^g^tful stammer. I accorded to them for the mantr i„ l -^ f *" ^ssemblv were duty. Crowded nieSn™ we held in iJf J'^^.''** f""*""^ their receive their aecount of aeColonfes Th! vtT\'':','^ -^'"^S"^' *« long felt in Canada, and many TK„„ t„l *" "' *''™ ™" were of the deep and lasting "nZencerBrSdh"M°'™"''' " "«» ^^^'^ ing of the deputies. P"™°'=<» ''J' ">« presence and teach- the conjoined labour of whfrpinK hi" ho?,7'.n3 .!?^ "°':'" ',° » tremendons feat fmm Macleod to send then, . miALS •' We d!d hIS?"?"* '"''"° '" mplore NorS would bequiteplc,,.,ed to have one who cmUd »°° ivl, ,r' " '-T-r"-? "■"■'W man'TbM l>ki what i/m wcw „, ,j,arM/ lo-d^i/f' ^ * *" "" * W-Pl«m everydaj s-s-s-eiuon m 1 1: iiii in: ■■ ■■ ' !i: ■1 i 1 ! I..' H I hi^ If '■ CHAPTER XL EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE, AND TOUR IN PRUSSIAN POLAND AND SILESIA. THE excitement caused by the Disruption had not yet calmed down for the animosity of party spirit stiU burned with a heat almost mparaUeled even in the ecclesiastical history of Scotland. Those who lad once been intimate friends passed one another without sign ot re- coL-nition, and family Hfe was embittered by parents and children, brothers and sisters, taking adverse sides on the Strathbogie case, or on the powers of the Civil Magistrate. . , ,, , . r «* This reigning spirit of intolerance stirred the keener feelings ot Norman Macleod far more than the questions which divided the rival Churches. However decided his views may have been as to the merits of the controversy, he cared infinitely more for the main- tenance of just and kindly feelings between Chrxstians than for any- thing in dispute between ecclesiastical parties. He did not grudge the success of the Free Church, and he lamented the conduct o. those who refused sites for her churches. But he protested with utmost vigour against the spirit of intolerance which was too often displayed bv the Church of the Disruption, snd on some occasions he spoke and wrote in strong terms 8.gainst its bigotry. " I am not conscious of entertaiuing any angry or hostile feeling towards the Free Church as ' a branch of Christ's Catholic Church.' I desire that God may help all its labours, both at home and abroad, for advancing that ' kingdom which is righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. I respect many of its ministers and I enjoy the friendship of many of its mem- bers. I admire its zeal and energy. I have no sympathy >yith the alleged attempts to embarrass any of its ministers— or the ministers ot anv Church on earth— when seeking accommodation for themselves or their adherents. My remarks are directed solely against that proud and intolerant spirit which says to the Church of Scotland, Stand back I am holier than thou,' and which has corroded so many hearts formerly kind and loving. I detest Church controversy; it is rarely profitable to writer or reader ; it is apt to darken our minds and injure our best affections. Let these men, in one word, love Christians more than Clmrches, and the body of Christ more than their own, and uicy wiU soon discover that separation from a Church, and protesting EVANGELICAL ALLTANOE. 165 for the adva.cem'entof a oomZ ChriSit;-' '=°-''P™«» "«' " Evangelical Alliance IT haJledi"'^?^'''' ^°""''"" "^ *« only harmonized with his own deeS fS K I'™'""'. ''''''='> "»' a specially beneficial effect rheZfthe divSi„n^*o?T*f ''1° ''"^ The Alliance was then in the fre-il™,! „, ?,"""* "{Scotland. came home he threw himseVwith W "Xlfh tt'lS *" ''^ The narrowness of snirif w]i,vi. of j , ^'^''^ '^"S movement, had not, as ye dtpKd t pr^^^^^^^^^^ ^^ ^'^"^ ^'^ ^^^ks by the atntosphere of airS S^^ profoundly touched preliminary cWerence heH Tn SSilm tui'^.^''^'^'L'' *^^ impressed bv the imposing assemblvnf nil '.^ ^^^^^ ^^^ n^ore world which met aft^erwa?drrSLon ^'^^^^^^^^^ 1 ^^^^ °^*^« of the world, but he had now the nrivTlPcrf^f i ^'^^^^ '^^^ "^^^^ with some of the most emS represeM?HvI pT'^^ acquainted Churches, and gained such an irS'ht -nfo tt vif^r'-'^^^^^^ character of these Churches as Sy contact v^Ul P^^^^P^^^ ^^^ give. By means also of the EvSlir.l All? ^'''^ "'^^ ^^^^^ friendly relation with many of the Zo m\5 'i ^% established a and, on their invitation, weLlbr seS CsToTn^f '! °^ ^°-"^^^^' May meetings, or to preach the anm nl tL^f • ^°''^°'' *° ^^*«»d ^he of their societies. nT^SuencerclsTr^^^^ connection with some and his own faith and courr^rwere Shtfw ^^Tf ^'S"^' ^"«^^' larged sympathies he gained^r^^o^rlf S^^^^^^^^^^ To his Mother : dogs and cats, and the ortrot advpnf ""^ *^'' '^"'^*^^^' *^« ^^^1*1^ of record on pap'er. There^irthofr^^H ' "^^^^^^^f^y. «^™t merit a write-that abominable scratch ^r;!^^^^^^ *« «^y-not to bread-and-butter style of conveviror tf" ' ^""'^^fl t^^at heavy, lumbering the voice, the grace notes and S^ T'l """^^ ^^"^« ^^^^^^ ^^ed the eye, but another e^S of wl B^ ™ ^'^ .-ve them life! It is after Ll fingers, and giving glimitTof t3' '^'''^^"^ '^°°^ *^« ^^P ^^ «^« me-'lTomrce\rev:;;'£^^^^^ -d MOO people round not pages. Jane will tell vou wboi o '77 ^^"^^^ requiring vohmes and cult it is for me to get time to llTr ? T'^-^^'''^ bfe I lead, and how diffi- into yours, which it H^llC L^, ^L^t' '^^^J! ^^^ ^^« ^"-' ,Q " „, "" ^ '^^" ''^ ^^" US to make you See Chapter XVI, May 25th, 1863. i;^ I 166 LIFE OF NOBMAN MACLEOD. call 'stop,' though all your children were to write to you by the steam press. " Biit what news can I give you 1 ' Can I not toll what is doing in the house r Yes ; but are you serious in saying you wish to hear? 'Yes, quite serious.' Then, if so, you have little to think about. But, as far as I know, the following is the state of the house : — " As to the attics, one is locked up, and in the other your youngest son slept last night under the influence of a lesson in Latin and a plate of por- rid ^« ^eem for Him seem to me highlvTaf™ attemptsat work professedly on well. The prayer an'd i^i^are 1" ^^^^^^^ fc f^\'^-\-^ -ay gj affection which hitherto I have only mlrwZf 1.1 ",^^\^«^eIoped in me an -and that only in words-Cause o^Tfll^"*^ ^^^^^^^ to ministerial brethren. I S Se alfwl, .^^Ju^^T^^'-I ^^*^^' l«ve been abroad-and he had netr seen ^emW brothers-but they had knowing the brethren comesfrom seeing them 'fr: u ^f^ *°°' ^^^^ ^^^^ seen ' increases love to Hirw^o is unsfe^' "" ' *^' ^''''^'' ^^°^ he hath To his Sister Jane :— ' Everything an.« , " ^'''^''^^'''^ ^^ ^'^^^^' Wednesday, May 25th. not htr Thfy^a"\"^rrrt^^^^^^^ .^JT' ^--* fe"ows, are " Bickersteth, dear man Tin Z r^ ^""^ ^^^' ^^^ b"«i^«««- speaking. Angel jir is iZtmZ Tnd Drt?ffl ^^'"1! '^ ^- s mere chat, like a nice family circle and 'rw.'w^^'i^ ^"'"h^^- I* m the midst of it." ^ ' ^"""^ ^ ^^P^ ^^^t our Elder Brother is To Elizabeth Pattbrson.* " How rich is that '^r Jr Z t' "'"' ''''°°"' ' '•"- ^^''^^^'^'^^' ^«^»^- ajso make utLtlro^^^t^t^^^^^^^^ to ourselves, but None but He co«ld make vou a wp?v^ ^. ^''^. ^PP^^^ss to others! tongue, stretched on a bed of paik Ibt .T T\^u*^°^* ^""''^^ ^^ feet or faith and patience, but an inex«^:;;;S f "^^ *° ^^ ^^ ^^^"^Pl« *« "« of day been to me. Well delr H fow T^^\ *° "'' '' ^^^ ^^^^ «^any a fected in you, and hyZti^fll^^lZ""\ T-u'T' '' ^'' ^"^ ^e pi- in Himself. But as lon.^ L Z oln ' ^ "'^ fK^^^""' ^^ ^" Perfect you than in Heaven, you S I am suie b^j /^^^^^'^^^ «™ ^^^^ «^ earth ^«% Helped .ou,^sableLSy1X.oft.Th\^^nd.^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ thertrs^ot\To?CS'£sd?^^^ ''^ ^^^"^'^ -^° ~a«ed him in his work strengthened him i.ore ttn^lfotC^'mrSTr'n'' '' » V^t perhep %^a ly sufferer for several years before h^rVL ,^'if'^"eth latterson had been an invalid and a ministry there, she';vas only oLe oJTvle^ut^^fTf '' 'fu ^"^""^ '^' ^^S''* ^S S his JiZ r'^°.r^ """^^'^ ^^^ her lovir isters sh; ^'^%''«1»i''«d the° constant care vi.nted her, that she could not sneak bn? fn ! i,- "" ""^^ frequently so weak when he oeii in the interest she took in Clmst^'o n,, j ^^"'.°' "^od. She seemed to forsret her- m Dalkeith as well .is for t^" J^i?/of fe ovTti "'I? ^°°t? °^ *^^ PoS cS such a character drew forth his sympathies ^ He oft!nc T'^i'-.i. ^* ^^^ "° wonder that he got from witnessincr her fiif 1, «!^ f ^ ?"^" ^P^^^ of the comfort and strontrfh and her good friend t,."?: eo^*^ ^Jr^'lTn t '"°"'"« *^^* she°anl t £ify^ after a weary day's work in filthy cloles he ».,, n « ", ^'"^^^'y °° ^'^ behalf. Often fulness at the bedside of th^hX^ sufferer ^h'^ ^v.** refreshment and gain new hope «d sometimes went nom Glasgow to visit her on her wealj s/ck"bed?'" ''"^ ''"'' ^''' if'J' Ji^ 168 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. l3t:l. i ■ P fi r 1{: holds all the ocean I see around me, which sustains this blue sky over my head, can uphold and sustain your weak body, for it is more precious than all this big world. It is a redeemed body. The mountains may depart ; His love never ! Every drop of the ocean will be exhausted ; His love never ! The Heavens will depart like a scroll, but they who do His will shall abide for ever ! Let us praise Him ! May He be with you day and night ! " To his Sister Jane : — "LoKDON, August. Such a scene of prayer, shaking of 111 " The Alliance has been formed hands, and many weeping ! " I met a man this morning with a towering forehead, having * the har- vest of a quiet eye,' and * a most noMe carriage.' I was introduced to him, and he said, ' I know your name, and I am glad to have seen your face.' I replied, ' Sir, I have long revered you, and now rejoice to grasp your hand.' Then we for a short time discoursed about our Church, and when, in expkv- nation of our position, I said, * I fear I must call the Free Church the party of Presbyterian Puseyism,' he seized my arm, and said, ' You have taken the words out of my mouth. I wrote to the I-ing stating the same thing. I think they are making the Church an idol.' Who was thisi — Bunsen." " London, August ith, 1845. " I have just time to say that our Alliance goes on nobly. There are 1,000 members met from all the world, and the prayers and praises would melt your heart, Wardlaw, Bickersteth, Tholuck, say that in their whole experience they never beheld anything like it. I assure you many a tear of joy is shed. It is more like Heaven than anything I ever experienced on earth. The work is done, a work in our spirits which can never be un- done. The Americans have behaved nobly. I am ai)pointed chairman of one of the future meetings for devotion, an honour to which I am not entitled except as representing my Church. I would the whole world were with us ! No report can give you any idea of it. I am half asleep, as it is past midnight. I have to meet Czersky at breakfast at eight." To his Mother;— " My mind and heart are almost wearied with the excitement of this time. Meetings every day — conversing, smoking with Germans, Fiencli, Americans, &c.— nil in love and harmony. Tholuck, llheiuthaler, Earth, Cramer, from Germany ; ^Tonod, Fisoh, Vcinet, from France ; Cox, Kirk, Skinner, Baton, Emery, Do Witt, Baird, from America. It would take houi's Ijd tell you my news." /Vowi his Journal • — •' Srjilcmbpr, 1846. " What an eventful year this has boon to me I In Juno, 1845, I crossed the gicat Atlantic, and rottirnod home in safety in Novemlxir. Since then I Iiavo had much to do with colonial matters. I have received, with my colh^igues, the thanks of the Asseuibiy. I have visited Birmingham as A member of the Evun^elical Alliance. I have been tlnioti iii i^iiuiuti — ouco i * EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE. . ,, — 169 pabhomeetmgs in Scotland, and I hav?no^?i?I.* f'«'^'"<=. spoken at four may now have some time to devote mvwh^fi "^ °™ P™''- ^ '™«t I Sg^ »o. Wit. „tw mili;ttK - J!,^- -s^- 1 c " r llllr "T" ''°'"' ''y "«' Alliance I and,«n:lttv7orartE^tT^^„U'«^\avebecomeac,^^^^^^^ spor^^.trmt?,'^SfT!i,^i^-,'r^^^ at the Alliance melted byThe har^'^^ ^^T '* ^" ^ Was not eveiy one and London felt to be the house of Goc the^at. nf w^^"" ^^ Birmingham ^. Was It not much to J.m.o „ i ^**^ °^ Heaven ! JO tte Papist so muchtaJ^^^^.'SrctE 5 'r' »?'» »» '»™ Presented dea hngs „,th He P„pa, chaSS hL ''*"™'» ' A" '^lo lad any . ^^a May not a .*. voice now spea? to the wo.d than has spoken L Wdon%'v:i;E'ratS^l;!:^r« -P^t was the day I presided in To Peincipal Campbell, of Aberdeen .- -I received your brochure yesterdav T A "^,^''''"«' ^'^^''^^'^^ 1846. jome pomts. I think there my S th« """^ '^"'*' ^«^"«« ^^^^ yo" in tended to exist in the Churcirwithout th^^T'^r ^^^^^^ Christ ever in you seem to contend for. The Wind n on •^T'^ °^ ""^^^ »nity which amount of one-ncss in essentiaSr-^raff 'T "^ ^'*^^" *^^« ^'-S greatest amount of personal nr„i ""-'""^—in affection— in work— with H.n .ad worship. Wo ™;r^rw ZSlTl ^''°"' - to' govrnm n? ^ISL ?.': «i™ ','"■ *'>*<' '»«r3v'''"|.f„T?,'"'°''«»»s "US' exist «', which IS to bo the honj of union ll„ ,. ""^ "'" ""'"'own quantity eyes, ears, ,catter«l atout. Wha ?hrm T> "f^ are:-Jegs, ,™s, he, iT to each his individuality I Heaven 1? ?' '"''^ "'" ™i'e them leavC t.me we must do what 'we c"."™° "'»"<' ''•«'™i I "on't. In The mea« ehapeir£,S,.""trr^.7rr''°' "■" ^esleyansin their hn™ " T am the first GHtjibli.^!.e/J „-v--~- , , Tho death of his oW'tcacherXchd^^^^^^^^ ^'T'Y^ '" '^'"^^ ^^»rch." ^"aiiiiois, deeply moved him. and, II i: 170 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. [} ■ ■ when addressing the Lay Association of the Church of Scotland he took the opportunity of paying a tribute to the memory of this great and good man— "whose noble character, lofty enthusiasm, and patriotic views will rear themselves before the eyes of posterity like Alpine peaks, long after the narrow valleys which for a brief period divided us are lost in the far distance of past history." To his Mother :— Anotlier third of June ! and another, and another— it may be— until there is no son to write and no mother to write to, and the passing birth- days of tune are lost in the new birth of an endless day. " You would be grieved for dear old Chalmers. I am sure you will sympathize with what I said about him at our public meeting on Tuesday 1 was grieved that later differences prevented, I think foolishly, any notice being taken of his death in our Assembly. The motives for our cloin^ so might have been, perhaps, misunderstood. There is a great power at work called Dignity, which sometimes appears to me to be like General Tom Ihumb, the dwai-f, acting Napoleon. I may be misinterpreted, too-I don t care. A man s head— at least mine— may deceive a hundred times a day—a man s heart never ! I never felt tlie rightness or the wrongness of any thing strongly, without its really turning out to be the right or the wrong I thought it was. Dear old man ! He is among congenial minds lor the farsttime— he never breathed his own native air till now— never felt at home tdl now. I intend going +o his funeral. I hope the Free Church will have the taste not to attempt to make it sectarian— Chalmers belonged to Scotland. I am just going to write a funeral sermon on him. I fepj he IS a father and brother a thousand times more than men whom I address as ' Fathers and Brethren.' . .i" '^^K^^ "" gloi'ious day. The hawthorn is bursting into wreaths of snow : the birds are busy in the woods ;' the butterflies are ylinting among the bushes ; and everything is lovely. ^ ^ a "Is my father with you 1 I need not say that he is insenarablv con- nected with you m my thoughts to-day, for I am sure a kinder father no children ever had. I am thankful that ho fixed upon the Ministry for me. 1 declare I do not remember a day when I thought it possible that T could be anytl'ing else than a Minister— nor do I remember any other profession which for a moment I over wished to adopt— unless in school, when I once desired to be a bandmaster ; at another time, a Ducrow galloper on horses • and, lastly, and more especially, a Captain of a man-of-war ! ' ''My dear, I remember long ago, when there was a minister of the name of Macleod m Dalkeith." To Mr. James M'PuiiiwoN, Loudoun :— "DALKKiTtr, Junr. Wh, 1847. 1 ,"^ '!*^^"°,* ^"f *!"** ^ ^^ separated from my beloveJ, tenderly, deeply be oved flock, who have either loft Loudoun for Heaven, or left tlio Estab- Iishmont for another branch of Christ's visible Church. I feel wo are united by bonds far closer than wo understand ; bonds which Christ has cast around us, which Ho will lovuigly ke»p uround us, and which He will EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE 171 known, and be for eve,- withSilfl' '""^' ''"°" '=^0-' ■« wa"?e ^»-ow his Journal :-. fiv^ S^^^ by work than during the sembly, that it should do oJd's TS ? "^^^ concerned for the As! appointed to select and send off ZLLT TT'' '^ *^« ^""^'"ittee ever present to me. I had nuhHr. l'*^P"***^«n to the Colonies, wliich are bm-gh. I had to sfteak the tmth anTfi.? *' ^''""'^ '"^ »^^W andtdtn and Female EducaTion Mee in^' If E'"f^ t\t ^'^ ^^^^t io"- I was to speak there. Then thSe werl ^ ^^ -"^^ ^"^'^^''^ ^as coming and a great deal of sickness in the p"sh ^Jf""' ''' *^^ Communiof ^eorge was ill, and my mother and Vl- T^' ""^ °^" ^^ar brother Campsie. In short, I ne^r had «„o^ ^ ^^' '" *'^°"^^'<^' *« "^« graves at wished to bury my heacUnlhe ^-av" ' ^""^"^'^^ "I^^ '"«• I colxld have a^r ^^:^^^^^^^^ ^^Communion, ten minutes S as^r;i:i^:fti:s:ti^" the ante-chambers; butlhatX ^^^^^^^^^^ ^"^ ^'^ ^^^^^^ ^-^ not and could not reach. I experlir, " .^ sanctuary which they did trouble and perfect peace And iw ^^'^^^^^ combination of Jreat tin-oughall! The AsleSy ^ts 1, l Tn ?T'M ^^'^^ ^'^ broughf me »ts decisions, as far as I caV siT.Xl' .^ts debates calm and tfuthful! America was selected after m5 coImIV^ *'"" r ^^^ ^'eputation to for having proposed and caiTied tlii anEi''^'!- l^"^ '^'^'^^ vindicated enthusiastic welcome, and thev them. J^ .'""*■, ^^'"^y ^ave received an was needed My p,,Llic e 217^^0 ^^irf"^"^^^'^ ?'^* ^^oir mission I spoke as I wished, i.e. the truth w" icl7 1 dTsirT ' '"^ ^ ^''^'' '^^'^ S««^- Lay Aasociation, and at the meetin-^s for Ponf p? ''^'^""""cate to the of the Evangelical Alliance. I wa Mt L.f " n *^^'"«'^t'«n in India, and fort dear Mrs. Bertram. I neve had ! 2 ' '' .*^, strengthen and com- munion. My dear George is rLveril n/7^''^"^ "'"' delightful Com- answeml Thou, God, knowest > Twv?. ', ^T "'>^ 1"''^>'^''« ^ave be^n 'li« Jtmve. ""■ """ "" 111"' f"ll iTOurnnu, of lifo bu^onj ow'nf" rTi-"".' *.';""""' '"•™'<"-'' "'"" '" 11.0 mv.t™ nf r.„l., „..■„ . - • y- !- -.-i :til TrutJiM lin! mORf, Hnl.,t»r. 4- ' ." ''f>'l3 Will ig nVy jsponsibl,. will- ^vhich b(,oa,.sT Is a wil /"'T"'" ''"^ '"«^''«««'«" of a doe. choose, what is opposed tithe will ZulT "' "'"^ ^'"''''^ °^ «'« ^1 1'^ li h .i : ,-.-y-. ^f-'.g-.,lF^^T: - lih ' m ' i!f •1:1 iii LIFE OF NOBMAN MACLEOD. " The existence and influence of Satan are not more mysterious than the existence and influence of bad men. Evil is the mystery — not evil agents and evil influence. Considering all things, perhaps, a Demoniac in the syn- agogue, a wicked Judas in the Church, is a greater mystery than Satan. " The great difference between the la'V and the gospel is, that the latter brings a power into operation for producing that right state of mind — love to God — which the law commands but cannot effect. " Christ is the living way, the eternal life, as He gives to us His own life and Spiiit, To be as He was is the only way to the Father. " God is surely revealing Himself to all His creatures. I cannot think that there is even a Bushman in Africa with whose spirit the living God is not dealing. The voice of God is speaking though they may not hear it ; yet they may hear it, and so hear it as to know the living and true God. " St. Paul said that God had appointed the bounds of men's habitations that they might seek after Him. This implies that to find Him was possi- ble. " I will never agree to the sensuous philosophy which insists on all teach- ing coming through materialism. Education is to lead out, to draw out, what I may already possess. "God has made us for joy! Joy is the normal state of the universe. This only makes Christ's sorrow more terrible. Man's joy and God's joy muse be one. 'Ye shall be as gou3.' Yes ; but not by the Devil's teaching. " What dreadful suffering must Christ have endured from want of human sympathy ! How alienated is man from God, when Peter and the apostles were so alienated from Christ. * I am not alone, for the Father is with me,' but none else !" The movement in favour of a reformed Church, inaugurated in Po- land by Eonge and Czersky, was at this time awakening much interest among Protestants. Both Ronge and Czersky had been present at a meeting of the Alliance, and as some members of that body were anxious to obtain reliable informatirn on the subject, Norman Mac- leod was asked to accompany the late Dr. Herschell of London on a visit to the principal congregations of the new communion. NOTES OP A VISIT TO PRUSSIAN POLAND AND SILESIA IN AUGUST, 1847 To his Father :— " During my short stay abroad I intend to address all my letters to you, in the hope that they may contain something interesting, which may, per- haps, induce you to boar with that i>oc\iliar hieroglyphical character which I generally use in writing, and which, through your excellent example, I have stu« l!""'^^'t contidence placed in him by his people, and that he is a most siin|.Io.heurted, aiiu-eie. oian. riM 1 1 M. -f «?: ,i Si 174 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. never be a great leader, he will prove a true witness ; and if he cannot attack, he certainly will resist error. After the meeting we remained and took tea with himself and his wife. We were much struck with the humble and poor house in which he lives. Everything indicated a man who had not at least made money by his change. "Our Sabbath evening's work was closed by a call upon the old Lutheran minister, who was just retiring to rest. He received us very kindly, was frank and full of good humour; and while he deplored the number of churches in the town instead of one (his own), he bore the strongest testi- mony to Czersky, declaring him to be, in his opinion, a simple, honourable, upright, pious man. This was most satisfactory. " Having determined to take Czersky with us to Posen, we all met next morning in the hotel, and were early on our way, by courier post with four horses. We had a journey of sixty miles before us. The day was scorch- ing. Our road lay along flat plains or through forests, and poor Polish villages. It was so sandy and rough that we could not make sometimes more than six miles an hour. Tlie whole of this day's journey i-eminded me of America, more especially when our road lay through the forest. " Post is, in many respects, an abler man than Czersky. He is an able speaker, has rpiid and thought mi..;, and is as firm a believer in positive Christianity as Czersky. Family worship is common among his people. His congregation numbei-s about 740, old and young. " The results of our inquii-ies into this movement in Poland may thus be summed up : — "1. Numbers: There are fifteen Christian Catholic congregations in Poland, each numbering upon an average 300 souls, old and young, The numbers in four principal stations are, respectively, Posen 745, SchneidemUlil 400, Bromberg 600, Thorn 400. Post has sometimes 1,000 in summer. " 2. All the cl(^i gy in Poland are for positive Christianity, and will have nothing to do with Ronge. " 3. They are not yet united, but wish to form a Presbytery. "4. This movement should be helped and strengthened. The people and ministers are poor. They could get on better by joining the Established Church ; but they desire church fieedom, and they think that they are in a better position to act as a Mission, having reference to the Church of Rome, than if they were to become absorbed in the State Church. " We I'^ft Posen on Thursday morning, and slept that night at Lissa, half way to Breslau. We reached Breslau in the evening of Friday. " We determined to drive out next day to Hiinen, to see Dr. Theiner, whom all parties acknowledge to be the most learned and able man con- nected with this movement. He was out walking when we arrived. His old servant, however, went for him, while we sat beneath the .shade of some orange-trees in the little flower-garden. " By-and-by we saw approaching, with quick steps, a man of the ordinary size, ui)wards of fifty, with a long German surtout, a cap with large sc(;op, spectacles, and his long hair, sprinkl <1 with grey, flowing behind. He ushered us into a large room, which, iu its thorough confusion, remicctcd us of Neander's — chairs anil tables, coveteii with l)ooks, and the whci.i room as if it was the temporary receptacle for a library liastily curried mU- it, along with bome furniture, during a fire. The first look of Theiner iillad EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE. 175 bl^ktlllte'^^^^^^^^^^^^ -"^-v ^w> the twinklin, tenderness, and simnlicitv ^f J/^'^*"r« ^-^Pressive of eagerness, thought spoke of Ronge ^T:^L..n:jz::: ^i:^^^, if r -^ ^r^^^- He dendes Geschopf: He spoke of Czersky and Posrwif h . ''"* '^f ^««i>^^«*, declaring his conviction that they weSoLst men H" ^'^*''.* .'''P"«*' was one of literary activity. ^- "^^ ^^^ position now " In the evening of Sabbath I heard Eon «« «^e Spiritual Pietism, and end in Socialism 0^. ' '"'' ^ ^"^kerism and a deeper and moVe evangelLl ^t^^^^^^^^^^^^ connected with this part of the Zvement n.J ^ ' ,?*^ ''PP^^^' *« ^^ good direction. One ha^ only to wX 'he Sblt ''^lt "' f '^^^^ ^' * t^ermireir- '^ ^^^ ^^^ p^p^-H I St ;t,^r^^ 2 CWhtirc'o^^^^^^ working of various I have seen the war of wraksectrin ft ifl^^ ""l "^'T,"' denominations, of the Colonies, and Voluntaryism in f,^^^'^«^^7«°^l«/.nd lonely settlements United States. I have watched TvoH llr^"^^ ^""^ ,'" '^' S'''^^^'^"^- i" the Free Church in Scotland esprchlTylnrr^If T'^ '\' ^^^^^^''^^ «f the freest and most friendly con munLfm.' f'-^'^-^''\ I have met in the England at the EvangeHcSA hnce T t^^ *"^'*^''' *'^^ I)»««onters of Episcopacy during a yCs r^s Ce in E^r^ '^'' workings of every part of Gemany from Vienna tn t^ ^ • "^^^^"^^ '^^'^'^ ^^P^^'T in Ireland and America. I Cve examined fnto .'}' n ^'"^"'^ ^'^^ ^^'fe'>"°^' result of all has been to doepL ^^^^^^^ ^^^''"'^^ Churcl, and the me with unfeigned gratitude to God fn,f 11^ V" "'-^ ''^^ Church-to fill terian Establifhed ct h of £0 ,Ind T^'^'^t"' Evangelical Presby- toleration of Popish error within i? bosom !?■ ^i«^««*?t. without any removed from formal orthodoxy icanZ* J l,'',^'^""^'""''^'' '^'^^^ ^1"^"^ It is Presbyterian, and in possesion of ! T^^'^'^T'. ""' ^"^ rationalism, which occupies a middle poinrbeTrenl^ ^ ^''\ '''^'''''' government co«,r.gatiou. It i. E.dlil'^^r.o'^^^^^^^^^ - of one -_. -i ■ „.acnt loi- its support on itt: 1.1 -i 176 LIFE OF NOMMAN MACLEOD. the people, while, for the discharge of all the functions of a Christian t^rch, independent of civil government by virtue of her constitution. What want we then 1 Nothing but the power of the living Spirit of God to enable ministers, elders, and people to use the high talents God has given us for the good of Scotland, of the Christian Church, and all to the glory of • '?« ^'°^Set thee, Oh Jerusalem, may my right hand forget her cunning l*** - o e f I ,i( f ] s fi- ll C( bi ol ch m CHAPTER xrr. lAST YEARS AT DALKEITH. 1848—1831. fluences which then affefted M= ^ """-'"^ ™ «Mmate of tK' of mental growth more tl.«„ „f r7 ™' ^"'' character. It was » til leisure for study t"han hT ' '"5'''"'y <"■ PiW^ work hI if, ^* "™ America and oX ConteTand trf P°"^^^'='' Hfat'S'ven whifli fi.n 1, V ^^"&"y> touched him Drofnnnrn,, i •, •'"^ g^eat •-- a oopiou. armour/M-a o1 S^XSiS H 'f latr t^ ^ff!:'^ S^;;C1 -7-^ a contrast to Arnold 8 tract pr„f„„„d^ almost to otecuritv F °™''\*''^ meditatiVe ab- f*Y«"^Ca,„pbclhisedtohavc on"iti„f''™ "•""■ Gorman wl a n h.s lodgings. He was t£ Z^iZt iT' »»?''«ations with Mm controversies which issued in hi, in! ? .^T"' ""<• involved in tW Totxr * -'"'"«-e " ' b^Slheir'^r^^^ »»'^»" "»" »' '"'^ ^-- ^-™ otcr,^!^,'r,s:rird" *^ 'r -"^' 1 2 " -"«^« to deepen to the last H r T'- 178 LIFH OF NORMAN MACLEOD. I ;I1 hour of their lives. Campbell had a greater influence on Norman's views than any other theologian living or dead, and was reverenced by him as being the most heavenly-minded man he ever knew. There was no one at whose feet he was more wiDiug ti) sit and learn. Campbell's influence was not, however, so pocltivf! v-xi direct then as it afterwards became. His great work on the Atonement was not yet publisb'id. A little book, called " Fragments of Exposition," written partly k>j him and partly by his friend, the late thoughtful and accomplished Profes- sor Scott of Manchester, was the chief contribution Campbell had as yet made to the theology of tlie day. But his cnnvpT,<:.tion was rich in suggestive ideas, which had a great effect ia determining the ten- dency of Norman's theology. There was one style of teaching which was especially characteristic of his later ministry in Dalkeith, and of his earlier time in the Barony. He felt that the metaphysical and doctrinal preaching which was still preva- lent in Scotland, had led men to deal with abstractions, ideas, names, rather than with the living God ; and so he tried to produce a greater sense of the personal relationship of the Father, Son, and Spirit. The dealings of an earthly father with his child were continually used to illustrate what the Heavenly Father must, in a far higher sense, feel and do : and he evermore pressed his hearers to entertain the same trust and confidence towards Christ, as would have been proper and natural had He been present in the flesh. Such tender thoughts of the Father and the Son found fullest expression in his prayers, which, while most reverent, were so real that they sounded as if spoken to One visibly present. Their perfect simplicity never degenerated into familiarity. Their dignity was as remarkable as their directness. These views had also a marked influence on his character. What the Personal Christ must love or hate became the one rule of life. This divine love inspired a deep " enthusiasm of humanity." He seemed to yearn over men in the very spirit of Christ — so patient, con- siderate, and earnest, was he, in seeking their good. His sermons at this time conveyed the impression > f greater elabora- tion than those of his later years. One remarkable characteristic was the restraint he put on the descriptive faculty with which he was so richly endowed. He could very easily have produced great popular effect by indulging in pictorial illustration, but lie held this in strict subordination to the one purpose of impressing the conscience , and even then, the touches of imagination or of pathos, which so often thrilled his audience, were commonly limited to a sentence, or a phrase. There were other men, besides Arnold and Campbell, who more or less influenced his views at this time. There wat. Struthers, the author of " The Sabbath " — a rare specimen of the old Scotch Cove- nanter, stern but tender, of keen intellect and unbending principle, and full of contempt for the nineteenth century. Norman took great delight in exciting Struthers to talk on some congenial home, to de- scribe, with sliriU voice and pithy Scotch, the good delt days, to ^^ST TEARS AT DALKEITK ^ -jrUf j^^^^^^^^ and bacI.slKlin.3 of and declare Sabbath schoT'^I 1""^^^^^^^^ ^' Practical Atlfeism sent to this covenanted lanc-underm n n'.^^ \^' Almighty eve; the parental tie." If there was exaJoS-^^ T'^^ ^'^^ ^^^ clestroyin J in mny of Struthers' reflections eSaK^^^^^^^ ^^^^ «^""e of the working classes. He had bppn i f ^ ?? "" *^^ P^^t and })resent years, and his remarks on quS affp r''^!,^" ^^^^^^^^^ fo^ many not lost on his hearer. In^contrast t"^^^^^^^^ ^he working classes were centiy returned from Oxford and f,.ll nf .i, • " Andrew's, who, re- men and the opinions thenTnfluencC L fi^^'^''"^ "^«"^°ries of the sity, made Noiman feel ^^Vl^TV^ *^^ ^"^^ «^inds of the Univpr Jowett, and oCl^ hu^^^^t^^^^^^^^ vvas^oreover, sS ..l^iilt'^X^'^J^^^^^ earnest m his search after trntht>,nfl^.- ?^^^ "^^ views, and so "r\«-bjects in which he Z^^"^ i"' friend'to X^ John Mackintosh, also his depn l?,i i Z,^^''^ *^^^en little interest "^g. after his Cambr'tfcate; ?n^^^^^ -as a frequent visitor af the Mali s andT'v'^ '' '''' ^'^^ ^irh. v2^ ^« l^^Jers when travelling -n'ltait «n^rl P '^^^^^^^^^^^n, as wel ^ ^^-P^ere of poetiy and &^^:&^ZJiS^^ To tln'a liof +l,„ since the Disruption Norman h«H ^'"f^^ °^ Scotland. Ever Church, and depLed the S of meT^f '^''. ^^^^"««« ^^ the quicken its life; but in ProfLor ?n,^ ^^ to g^^e its councils or who had both head and heart to \e iZlrTi'^'r"" ^' ^°""^ ^Z intellect great power as a debater and i^f ''^''- ^^^^^ ^ ^^en r "^}"«^ast in philosophy as in theoL °'i^'' ^'^'P of principles as a child towards God. true Ld L nt SrJ'' ''"'' ^^^^^'^^' «"«Ple self-sacrificing devotion with which bS 1 ' /"^"' ''^"^^ heroic in we ftire of his country. He wV a n f , ' f "''^ ^""^ ^^'^ Christian and m supporting, hin. Noma MtiS wis foSr '^'''' ^ Churchman^ s astic, but one ho had regard fnlui -, H^""^^'"'" "« narrow eccle- ami of a National Cliurcir^n 1 w? ^°°^ °^*he nation as the Sand geous an 1 generous S" Ibe'tn ^15/17' -'^'-^^ ^^'^ ^ -" - the Church and countrv for fl,! !i ^^^ J"st beginning his anr>eol in seemed Utopian to tt^tim d tnd^^^^^^ '*" ^^' P^"^'««- Em that the Church, so recently sZtted 3\"'° '''''"^ ^^ ^^ plishment of such a work ; hit ootheiNth^ ^^ '^"^ ^^<^°"^- was one of its chief recommendations n' ' ^°''^"''' °^' ^he proposal friends. Long were the lonrs o^frifmll^'^'"^ ^^ lasting far into night when thl "^ "^.''^"'"^O" ^liey en joyed lasting far into criticism of Kch.t.. of who;e";hii;;" wTr'f °" ''°"^^^ i'ang7 IVom admirer, to questions nf ov> ^".""^"P"y -liobcrtson was an ojjfH,^:--.,-, q estions oi expediency touching some "ovei-t^V^trthe ■r4 it' 180 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. f f Assembly. Robertson was the only man Norman ever regarded as his ecclesiastical leader. From his Journal : — "What precise relation does revelation without bear to revelation within — the book to the conscience ] " Is anything a revelation to me which is not actually a revealing — a making known to me, or, in other words, which is not recognized as true by me? " Do I believe any spiritual truth in the Book, except in so far as I see it to be true in conscience and reason 1 Is my faith in the outward revela- tion not in exact proportion to my inward perception of the truth uttered in the letter ? " Wherein lies the difference between assenting to the Principia of New- ton, because written by a great mathematician and not bnause I see them to be true, and my assenting to the Bible, because written by inspired men and not because I see how truly they spoke 1 " Whether do I honour Newton more by examining, sifting, and seeing for myself the truth of his propositions, or by merely taking them on his word 1 " Can any revelation coming from without, be so strong as a revelation from spirit to spirit % Could any amount of outward authority be morally sufficient to make me hate a friend, or do any action I felt to be morally wrong while apprehending it to be wrong 1 It might correct me as to facts which depend entirely upon testimony and not upon spiritual truth. "... I have just received some meixy thoughts from a blue-bell, which out of gratitude I record. " How long has that bell been ringing its fragrant music, and swinging forth its unheard melodies among brackens and briars, and primroses and woodroof, and that world of poetic wild scents and forms — so many — so beautiful — which a tangled bank over a trotting burn among the leafy woods discloses 1 Spirits more beautiful than fairies behold those scenes, or they would be waste. That bell was ringing merrily in the breeze when Adam and Eve were married. It chimed its dirge over Abel, and has died and sprung up again while Nineveh and Babylon have come and gone, and empires have lived and died forever ! Solomon, in all his glory, was not like thee. " What an evidence have I in this blue drooi)ing flower, of the regularity and endurance of God's will since creation's dawn ! Amidst all revolutions of heaven and earth ; hurricanes and earthquakes ; floods and fires ; inva^ sions and dispersions ; signs in the sun, moon, and stars ; perplexity and distress of nations ; nothing has happened to injure this fragile blue-bell. It has been preserved throughout all generations. The forces of this stormy and troubled earth, which have rent rocks, have been so beautifully adjusted from age to age, that this head, though di'ooping, has not been broken, and this stalk, though frail, still stands erect. This is ' central peace stbsisting at the heart of endless agitation.' " The blue-bell swung in breezes tempered to its strength centuries before the children of Japheth spied the chalky clifls of Dover. It has been called by many a name from the days of the painted warrior to the days of Burns LAST YEARS AT DALKEITH. 181 bluebell. a, sing ttf^^^^^^^^^^^ no .ore. The lasting \t: tL'Zerfof Sh veT' ^/T^^ ^^ ^--rtality more grass ' ""^ '^'*''' ^^"^y ^" fl««l^ IS more worthless than prog^eC'trdL^ve"/"^^^ ^^^^"^ ^^^ ^'-^P^' -nd to mark the Then further portiirS\? ame^^^^^^^^ of an intrepid voyager, posed islands. Then bvandW fl^n^ T '^°'^'' ^* intervals as sup- line of a great conMnei^g^^^^^^^^ are connected, and the oul to the region of the known and fkmiH'tKVoir.r^''?'^?^ P"«««« the tracing of rivers and iZ TnU^Tv ■ ^T" *^^ exploring of bays, and pastmlge, untT^t ?ast t hte'aflu^t^lrT^' ^^T' ^'''^' dotted with towns and villa-es divided LnfV-^^f^ '''*'' settlements, by old friends as prosnem^^ emtrlnt k ^'''^'^'''^^ ^^^d parishes, inhabited an important mem^erof th??lnf f -T^^'*' newspapers, and becoming Bible. Whatpro^.es is be*nl Lie t^^^I f "'""• 7-^'"^ ^' ^* ^^^^ '^- much better acquaLeds the cl,^^h.fPl^.'''°^'^I^^ ^*-' "^'^^'^^"g! Ho^v its inner and oLrSorytCThesi?pf,Tr^ What far more tnie Tnd h s'^ea of f ! ?^^f ? "^^ former period ! and by the ApostolL Church tt '""if of Christ, as manifested in and fifth cenCs posSd D^^^^^^^^ Church of the fourth extent, the totalitv 1x^^111..? f^T i^"""^ ^r^ove^^^A the magnitude. Individually, I find in dafy'^t ^ S tt fc';!^,"^""*-'^ T^^' was formerly unknown becomes known nn.x^ . ^ di-scovery. What becomes part of a m-oatwlmlpnr^ i T ' ^"'^.^^^^ seemed a solitary coast becomes L me 1^^^^^^^ afi-ections. Anf sm" l^f Lu Id S^^^^^^^^^ ^^ -^ ^--^^ was my first school-book here Td T I . ""-n? ^'P^''^^'^* ^ ^^^^^^- I* eyeS^arffi^ Thep^tetasle^^^ la^e7i.^rwS^-^?f -^ *^" ^^^^^^ also?'' Had the top boen cut off horir' *^^t7 ^^Pendent on the top becoming rotten? Let the nlnSli ^u '^''"'^ the stem have been of and the Ipendence oftle unno^.T^^^^ J'^ *'''^ ^'""^ ^^out the roots, tree. May^t onrbe th ^aSro/^^^^^^^^^^ All is a goodi; forth the fruits of righteousness ^^'^* '° ^"^"^^* ^^^^ bring miles.- 'li i?ttun';hiS. tW illt;^ "Tr^^'^' ««-"--' P- my faith in His love 17^ have their being; and • manifests it. It is faith fn ffimself fn *'\""/S'^. ^^ «">' «^"^g whereby He He does." Himself-m what He is, and not merely in what \\ '1 i= n| The political disturbances on the Continent durin^ 1848 had, of ^cM^ > . 182 LIFE OF NOB.MAN MACLEOD. \ t course, great interest for him; but he was struck stiU more by the outburst of discontent at home, as revealing a condition of society for which the Church of Christ was in a great measure responsible His impressions on this subject were deepened by what he saw when he was m Glasgow during a serious riot. Suddenly the leading thorouffh- lares were swept by a torrent of men and women of a type utterly different from the ordinary poor. Haggard, abandoned, ferocious, they issued from the neglected haunts of misery and crime, drove the police into their headquarters, and, for a while took possession of the streets In this spectacle Norman recognized the sin of the Churches whicli had permitted the growth of such an ignorant, wretched, and dangerous population. There was no horror perpetrated during the first French Keyolution that he did not believe might have been repeated by the mob he saw m Glasgow; and although the Chartist movement was connecter with a very different class of the community, it also sugcrgsted serious thougnts as to the future of the country, and the duty mcum-" bent on the Church. ,,rru ^, . ''April, 1848. The Chartists are put down. Good! Good for jewellers' shops and fepecxal heads ; good, as giving peace and security. Each one on Ken nington Common might have spoken Bottom's intended prologue for Snue m his character of Lien. ' Ladies, or fair ladies, I would wish you, or en- treat you, not to fear, not to tremble : my life for your& If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life. No, I am no such thing. 1 am antan as other men are ;— and tliere, indeed (quotli Bottom), let him name his name, and tell them plainly ho is Snug, the joiner.' But this same bnug, the joiner, though no lion, is still a man as other men are— and ZnnZ f *^" '^>T "^ ^^'^^^' ^^' ^^^'^^^^"^g *« ««»^™«^ computation, -UU.UUU, , Snugs on Kennmgton Common— eacli a man like other men each having a body finely fasluoned ard temi)ere with Duffy and O'Conno?, thoil I calTsm^^ on'^ l t^""'^^ *" ^''^^^^^^ I ask, hast thou ever conce^ed^thyself abm tT ^''^ ^'''^'''- ^^'' to be fed and clothed-or it ne tier how ll ^\P°^'' ^^othev-hoy, he wa.s to be taught his duties to GoTand i^ZZtlTtf':^^^^^^^ \ ^^^ ^^ -- loyal subject to Queen Victorin nnrl Tl ! . ' ^'°'^ ^® ^^^^ ^o be a Honestly; fHend-lu Jt tl o ^evlr Uken ^l'^^^^^^ 'J '''^ ^^"^^ ^^ ^^-^ops ? hast taken in thy kindness abo.^t thSf T *^,^^"^'''^ '^'^°"* '"'" '^^ thou 10th? Hast thou eve" LlTdfcTf^ ^"yself, in .Icfending us on the thou lias about giving him TlmLKi? A r''^?^' I"' ^'"^^''^ ^eart as man,butagord^iudsoul/C frienTl *'^?" '"'* "«t a bad ;' 'Selfish ! This lies at the root o The 7iZ :" "'S^*^' '-^"^ all seldsh ! nuleed, of all evil. That a great evil p J t 'in tt '' '? "' ^'^^^ '■"'^*' country is certain. Where sliall wpI i "^ J"'^'"^"* ''tate of our their results of rnisory and clt onront' u.d";? T'"''*/ '^"'^ ^-""'■'^"'^^' -^^h get quit of both, as in our f ^ anfn L f ''' .*" f *''"P* "^"ything to Hame-every town, every vilk 'o 1ms it i^no ' r^" r" ^ ^^^^''y^v-here tbe bees who fly about the hive, nd iZl'T^ and wretched men. The vv'nter,duringsomemonu..a ylu in i.?"^^' '"^' ^'' '^ '^'' ^^"- "^ who remain torpid and dyin-^ fi^m co n^,? " \" ^""'P'^^^i^on with tliose unseen cells. The ignor/nc^c- 7masf ^"J «^'"'^"^ 'on m the unknown and «>ose who, like mysJ^if. come iLu co ta/t wit/;"r/''^ '' "r"''"'"^^ ^ '^^ "^^^ "uent, mention four par,.nts who iZTt . T' ^ *^^^»' "t this mo- ignorant as heathen, nlvorlnl, ,1^1*; t'"^' ^«;, ".»Pti«"^ who were as ing of God or immortality. J- very v!^ 0,,?^,/^"', ^'''r'' '^"'' ^'"^^ '"^' '"^th- ening, increasing-an.l, u less cured V 7 " ^'•^"'^.«i:-«P'-emling: deep, i-ighteously punrslunglin td's w^ l p -^'-T' P^'^'^hing-terribly anil the .n. ,uestion-;hat lui ^ I^J^St C^^f '^^^ ^'^'P* is the euro less taxation? Jlow this wl, ,. n , . aangcrouH men tax tl.nnselves 70 per c 4't f 7 J .'''7" r^ "/ your most wages? Ask ti.o n.anufncturer i h aJe t , '„: dT '' *''" ""•" '''«*» an.ong those who hayo i.igh wages, jft u n re 1 . ? •'"? '''■*'. ^''""^'"'^"^ what security of any good have we in .nV. « ':'"",, "^■''"<'' '"«tructi..n ? i{„t churches? Uet yo^.^nen'^tTl o X^ni ;' ulorr^'M ' ''"'•' • ''^'^ Ne.U;e;^an cure poverty, and ...rs n-us^lTgilldla w^ "sIll^Zj Not one of tlioso is itwlf sulhcient. ■-&• 14] iBfl but all aro good wJien taken to- 184 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. I >i gether. We mt^st have schools, and any schools better than none anv education better, mfin tely better, than noL. But not to dweS uponXt all admit and feel, yet I would ask, why is not each factory coZenrd to have Its large school and its large church? Both to be SeTorkmen Let he church be threefold-Popish, Episcopalian, and Presbyten'an and let there be no fixed minister, but let the clergy in the town tak^'t^me about in the evenmgs, too, and none admitted bufin working clothes let there is to me a more excellent way, and that is love ' The tnm aad only cui^ seenas to me to lie in the personal and regular communion of the better with the worse-man with man-until each Christian lie liL Saviour, becomes one with those who are to be saved ; until he cTn be bone oL'tuh rmT^;f fl"^'"t -eep rejoice, eat and drink tvSh them a Tf^w^Xeo;^!" ' ' """' ''' '''''''' '^ ''^ "^^"^^"^"^ «"^-- "The world if over it is to be reformed by men and through men can only be so by the personal intercourse of living men-livin^ epis les not dead ones. Love, meekness and kindness, forbearance, unseffishne s man ifested in human souls uttering themselves by word, lo^k and deed and not by mere descriptions of these sentiments or essays' uponXm can alone i^generate man. The living Church is more than thl deadSle L t is tlie Bible and something more. It is the Bible alive. It is its ^t iS evidence its embodiment. God has always dealt through 1 ving men tith StristTk tf ^^fj-f^^^ra through a Personal Spiil V^^„ people ' ^'^ '" '''"' "" "^^^''^^ ^''^^'' ^^«11 ^ it in ill for hWr^p';;'''T/-'';f '''"'' "'' ^'"*^ "''• "'^'"•'^^^^^ ^-^^ «^'^»- ^^ substituted lor living uen. It is this we want. It is this the lanes and closes want Not mimstei-s merely going their round.s like policemen with black clothe; and white neckcloths; nor elders taking stati.stics, nor deacons givWah^s Z^^i:^ rf (what should we have been withouf ;E 1 e only sa t hitherto ) ; but we want Christians, whether they be smiths or shoemakers, or tailors or grocer-s, or coach-drivers or advocate^ to r erm' mber their own responsibilities, their immense influence for good, an, t be personal minis ers for good. The separation outwardly of s^ocSy s t.n ble Only see the old an.l nevv Town of Eciinburgh ! What a type of S society ! It used not to be so. In the old tow'n and in o den SesVn i^ es 01 different grades used to live in the same t.-nement and nooi an i S were thus mingled together in their habitation and Tlx^^ "t ft now m many vHluges. and in n.any parts of the country. B ,t\enei 1 ly there IS a wide separation, bridged ovor by tracts, or so -ieties o? « (sparingly) ; but not by the living Church of Clu'ist. The f, 1 hear nd the full mind do not meet to empty themselves (thereby becoming full ) ^to the void heart nnd the void mind. Wo have words\m the Zo o 1 y of lite, instead of life itself We are s..lfish, I say, and willinir t J av S^ . Mg „„l ,„j „„.„^ 'the still music of iiini.anity. WhcMi shall we learn to i.uitnte, or .•..ith..r to share the love of thr'iiT t ir ''""• T''"' ;^r^'"r ^'"'^ "" "'-^''^ -- «i-" "^ '• uio Uatner, tlmt lie camo from Uod ami u-.'i>( ^.. U-a ' «..}-" i\ - -j tw. LAST YEARS AT DALKEITH. correspond to what he need. A « J, ^,^ , ^ • f ^^ ^^°"'d have must and clothing, air and S ant w«tl "''^ '"^ '^^ ^'^^ '>« ^^^^s food needs societ^; ^.Tt^ti i:^Xi::l. 27.1^-' Tl '^^^^ ^« as an active being he needs somethin! J^ ^? pleasing to the senses ■ needs God over a!l an JTn a^ blisSand b3L ""ier I ""''^^ '^^'^^ ^^ met. But the link between the rnnWo^ i S T ^f ^" "''''"^ ^*^t« be should demand) is thT man wK^ , *^' '^'"'^^^ ^or the soul which question ever arLrbetween " " a^^^^^^^ *^^ f^Pi^^^- ^^ the ^^^w^r nothi4;T:£e?nir^n; - --.:-^ ^-^^ J. C. SHMHP. Esq.. Ru,by. who had sent a Review of "Struthers" Autobiography " ; fio thoroughly Scotch so thoromriv /',? '^ .f' ''" «'^^ organi.sm in one, familiar with the genus vouZSotd!.''^ •>'«" ^^'^^ '^'^^'^ about kirks. The ver'y odditv if f ' "^ '"'"' ^ '"J^^*^^^ "^ '"« ^^'^^l^ties Mortality so,U delghtTme tI Ltl'/^ ^Y' '""^"«« '"« <>'on. I came Iuto to atten.pt a ^ISZT^^^Z ^'"^^ '^V'"^ of the week, in ord.r tlio Wc«Ln Hills for a ?; Ss t^^ *« 'sumn.or high.' upon Assembly to which I wa, eirt ed a'nu.. 1 T -''"'^ ^'■"'" ^bo (^en'.al of solitud.. an.l (u ftTst Vnv i 1 ''' ^''^''''''^ to.lrink in the spirit ^.ban to sit. '.lusty n^dhnZm^ "!-''' "nhe.rd nu.lodies,' rati.er worti.v and " "^ ^I«"«« report-all that is one th Hr^il of? tt T "'''' l''^''^ ^"^ ^^ g^^d Let the world, then pass awav Zilil I i ! .f ''*^''^' *^^ "'^^ ^^ *^^« ^o^W. of death and dkrkSs^lnf Th o7 "'* *^^'''''* ' ^^ ^^ P«««ing away is of the FathSlX7mIif foit^r:^ '""^'^ '' ""'' ^^' --• ^" ^^-^ T'o his Sister Jane :— i' T I. I. "Shandon, May 1848 to a wee burn. In a momont T ?onn,rn^ ./• '"?^'^ ""^ *'""• ^^ ^'^^ °i« of those woodland V.IT wl ich 1 7"^ ^, T * ''' "V''"' "^' '^ ?««•«' °"« enters by the eve and e ir JJ! 1 . .v ["''^°'^^' '^'"''''''^ *^"d unheard, which on it tlfe oil Tf jov aS |?v s n.o^n "f^""'i '"? ^'^^'^'^ ^^ "^ "«^'* P^-" t^pirit of a burn Smos fSm f I "^ ''Z '"'''"'• ^^''^ «'^n^« mountain 4.S, and 'iJswe^," " I ento^raS':^ T 't ^"'^^^^ ^'^'"^^ «^' «^-^P' When I met it, it wa ful inf wTth jf 17'' ""'' "r^ ^^^'^ ^'^''"^<^«t «'"*« pool, clear a. H.ruid di 3 T ^ l"^ 'T T^^"'^ I'^ugh, into a small In the crevices Jf i L o"k werolrnr^ "l"''* "?'* ^^ ^^^ •'^l>«lt«''^'J i*- bunche.. of primuses, :^" ^Z^' T ^"f^"^ nature alono can do. while the s Inlig.a , » uninrfVnn f) / 1' '' mmnn.^nibir rock plants, «l.elving rock, a? it o t K.^^: '^^11?"^' '""/ ''T' Z'^"'" ^''" Wrches and ha.. Is. and bos d ! IV g":." ™ and'": "n'""-' T^"'' primroses. All ...ouid the ln..,Jr\!X. • -^ ■ , ^""'^ l»>acmths and up above, n deep b « kv w^^^ 'mil-throated ease,' and up, a s.i;ta.y cJow wiSnr^.:^^^ t ^^l'''^ '""' "^ '-^ *'-, ft. rest and i jfijire lining across the Wue and silence. Now thin I 'call good, luats and will t ia 3':iC .j an noiir of rest amidst toii a.s d lub 'o»»-, come back with ,, . ■i<'e.s my soui HootJnng i^eucefuhicss anudst Inu-d Hi ,^n !?..„,•„ + -i siiS- «;--='■• -"' S-- SMS +r,''.^^A' 7"' ''*'.'''" ^^^ C}« «'»^ad, Norman ! Get up-aet on» T dn hink that, on principle I should stop! Go ahead. wlvflM 'Cock cock, ock, whz-z.z.z'-QvoMH^\ That's choerin- WIrit's th.H « TfL ; U^™. I a,„ ia „ »« ,.„o„„«„„. „oUn, »n/o?r,cS f ac" ;i:: ' LAST YEARS AT DALKEITH. 189 t< Glen Fruin lay at my feet, with slopi ng green hills like the Yarr< 'Vinrf^ hiiio' »c T3-11 ■' "7' '— "*"i""s S1C..U ums uKo tne Yarrow bare hi Is, as Billy says; but like all such hills, most poetical and full of 'pastoral melancholy.' Well, I shall only state that I came down in case St S^hl *'"'/ 'n r^"' '*^"- -^""^ "^^^ I --« down ;h;t the"1 worth W'^ most literary-crammed a listening audience with Words- woitn, lennyson, and Shakespeare. "Now have I not much cause to thank God for all His mercies? and dear, I have done so. I have been truly happy. My study has been the Temptation still so full of wonders. I have not been in the least troubled about the Assembly, except so far as to make me remember it in my nravers -yes, both Assemblies, I am glad to say. These glorious scenes are in har mony only with a spirit of love. God's reign over all men, throughout all ages and Gods reign of love in our hearts, when believed, gives peace 1 wish to be back in time to prepare for the Communion. The scenes of beauty and the time of retirement which I have had are in perfect keen ing with again hearing 'the still sad music of humanity,' in our miserable closes and vile abodes. The Lord left His glory and rest to dwell with men; and by the cross Ho entered into more glorious rest, were that possible. To John C. Shairp, Esq., Rugby:— ,.„ ^' ^ ' *' Shandon, May 25. "In the midst of sovereign hills silence is most becoming, and then I never can think at such times. I grow as unconsciously as plants do beneath the sun and shower. But oh ! the life and joy ! The man who begins to doubt anything on a mountain top except his own powers, who be ' ', f f, y a f ■• K / ■ < I ■ ii. 190 uj;^^ OF NOEMAN MACLEOD. To his SiSTEK Jane :— 'In Memoriam,' or have ftalk wf/^Tlf ?.f "f'^f '^^" ^^relude,' and all my acquainknce7l twt M w •"* *^\*««dencie3 of the age. Of and oO lent S' The P^^^^^ side, her face calm and mfditativ; hi l '?-S''' "'"'^^ «"^* ^y the fire! chase after each oTheras^f tl S ^^^^^^ ^^T'^l '*'", P"^'^"^"^ *^«"- endless There was an air ofXid ^el^hoA ^" eternal revenge of his brother, an intellectual grandeur caStf^nn,!'' *f'™'^/'^*"''^'' ^^^^^ined with trious Mr. Hu<.1.ins and dsf„ . ^^^r long residence with the late illus- occasional lightntg' Ral aW theTvl S'T f '^'. ^^^^"^•««' ^^'^ -« sioned by living near the tfow W i li% ' T^'^ ^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^t was occa, with her'^view^of poe ry Titd tie Z^TV''"' J^^ ^i-PPointed versation ensued :-- Introduction, and the following con, VoZ'^Iv '"' '""' ' *'"^'' '-^ ^"^ combination of the poet with the " ' fUr? 1 '" '"'' Chough; better V °' " ' ^.-Tl'Iit^ki Wm^^ Wl.^l' ^T' ^^ ^"^ y«^ ^^k<^ Wordsworth?' Is he the sticS minTsteiT" ^''' ^^' ^^'"^ ^ ^^ Pettigrew's Close t r. his Brother Georoe (advi«iHg him on the choice of a profession) :- ,^,^^ "Dalkeith, Novembers, 1848 whateVe; we d^tTust' beZ- 'cTv 'Y' "^'^'^"^^ "« '^' '' ^-"k, or assume that CuZ^Z^ tt^tf^Z^ :::;r^ 7""' 1f^ P''^^-' ^ kingdom to do which is better snitpJ^fn i • '"^^^-'^ something in His Happy i. the man .1:^1^^^^ fn d ^1^^' '^fi^-.^^^^T- ^M;St7:t^J' '' ': '^ ^"^ «- l^iXl good\and^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^ *^ giu.ie each man' hyl^^iZ^:^^^^^ ^"""l* '^*' ^'^-''^^-^ ^^ven to and by Providence than^r^n .f^ "^ ^'''^'' '^ *^^ ^^^^le, by conscience. « defective, It is ^n ly'to "el T "" '""" '' '' '' "*^* *^^ "^Ht which atone point), detn -I'ne a pSon in^ '"' ^''^^ ^'^ lions, they meet termined by the wi I "? the Rod^l *« 'f^ "^^^ who will be at all de- all those ouLuVd tum!t mc^s wl?r ?\^"*^^'''^^-'* ^all is made up of for us. and which r^X Z 1! '^r"'^'' '^' P''"^^^^^^" ^' ^^ Po««ible VV^itlitiuspnnciple vl arTatl^dSffi^^^^^^ T' r"^««ible than another. thousand i.rofess on.Tu noTtion,^n ,^'^^"^*^^' .«f ««"^'««. in determining a and to which, cons^uLr r rr I,rel"\T T ^^f ^^ ''' y'"' -s.el.e.ident. ^^'t as in your cLIJ^^.-J ^^l^^^-^Jt^^^^ LAST YEARS AT DALKEITH. 191 above rule in order calmly to conLer Xh LS possfble^^^^^^^^ 1^' for you. Among the outward ciiTumstances whSh as I W Z l ^^^^^' to make up this outward call, may be menttox'd b^ he'l^^^^^^^^ -rA^'^^^'^'l «f the family, means of usefulness^a *^' ^"^"^^^ -but there is also the inward call to be considered FJv ^h^. T man's internal fitness for the profession and llnf ^"^^ *^^« ^ ^^an a and love it the more Mv Iovp fn I ^™«"ca, all, all makes me chng to it God that He has e^lied me to it W n ^"^ "^«f ''^^"^g- I bless and praise and dignity which S^^ x^^^- ' >^ ^ T '^ ^"^'^^^^ "^^ *^^« g^^^T whole bpina '^";;'' , ^^^«^g *o \t I find in it work most congenial to mv in circumstances which are ever va'-yin^ Tt alwavs i^t T*'"* T^^''^ Christian. A m?n ster of ^1 p iL 1,7- '''' ""^^^^ ^^'^^' ^^''^P* ^ ^^^^r faces before ^c^a pSession ^ItTs . 1 T» '"^ n^'' "^^^ "«^^ ^^^"• be a fellow-worktu w Uh C rfst Uon .V' P^«^^'?«^«^ «f "^^S^ls, and to L^:::oT-i^fr^^^^^^ I have Fn; T .T*^ '""'^'^ *^ '''^ *^** I ^*^^« «« ^i«h to influence you Lt^Jh^i^LrZ hT^e-^T^^^^^^^^^^ "^^ rr^ pi^^i^ suppose it possible for you to have ^ *^^"^ "" ''^"^^ ^^^^^» ^ ^'"^ Oh" Ge2'e '^f "^ t" ^'i^ '''l^ ?' '"^'^ '"^^ '^ y«" to join the Church ! wc! H^l T J ^"«^/^«^I have looked forward to vnnr 1..L- J-'h i«e . How I have re,uiced m the prospect cf seeing u« thi^e brothe;i cazw ! ■1 ' V. . Ihj -'#! p. i , Ij r I ill 1 f 192 LIFS OF NOBMAN MACLEOD. would come .oon.Ld .IZ. S iet as ;o?' ^" ""■^ °°°"°«' ^''"^ ^^07?i his Journal : — " ' Thn,, ^riu 1 "*"""'*"•. A^Q/^nolera Hospital preparing here. "i)ecm6er 21.-I hear two cases have occurred here last ni-^ht "Lord give me grace to do that which is right. My tr^ st '; in Thpp dying I am Thine, tluough^Je™, CW ! l2l '' ^'"'-""' '™"" °' "It Ks been an Xn.Jlnt'^^S foTe ' '"Dj^rC'rit:"^ that as far as I know I havp nnf f«». „ i -^"^"'fe wie year i can say, ..ed what I tnew to'Je i^^s^^ mXC^T 7^^^ dd imSec°lrri,''''"=",l'"*'"^- '''"^^^V •■- discCed lit temper, teach,„g,-that»«,wMch can only come fromSifaTrghiS :! LAST YEARS AT DALKEITH. 193 5Ksa Sit; ==?=s.'.s -;?,-,: than could perhaps have been Zul tS^y^^l' '''^ ^ '^' ^^^y life m writing this if it appeared to be the S w ^'^^ / "^^"^'^ ^^^"dder These, I repeat it, wereTine But I thTnf ! hafe '''T'' ^"' ^^ ^^^'^^^^i^^' of Providence by which eyil-^UlJ^T^I-}'^!^ ^ finite wisdor and love made, like a wild strear^ T|^' '''^~^ ^'^ V in- " Let me . .t forget to mention 4rer>^!n f ' 'f *^""^ent of God. unspeakable goodllhomas ArnZ^M:^.^^ I^^T ' V^J ^^^^^^^ Campbell. ' ^^e.^anaer fcscott, and dear John , "I go to Glasgow to-morrow. Cholera raap, K„f t • • mg my care on God. Lord Jesus, my t^ pl'^ntt ] ^"''^ ?^ •^""^^^^' '^^ I desire to abide in Thee, to tvmi hJ^hy ^ '^tt «ver-loving Saviour, Thy ways. "^ '-'^^ ^^^' ^^Y grace, Thy character, " Lord I am thine ! for time and eternity. Amen and Amen." qu^Lr ^rfilf :,^^^^.:l^Jf ^ ^--^y on hi.. Church Churches exist, the Sr^^ o7liv?nf cS'^ '"^ ^7 ''^'^ ^^^ night he pondered over the best method? ^n. r'^'i' f-"^ ^° ^^^^ ^"d zeal. There were many cler'vmr n 1 • ^^imu atmg a healthy elsewhere, who sympa lied, Xh^^^^^ '^^ neighbourhood and he frequently exchanged Tdealon S ^il^ir^'p^f '' '"? ^^<^'^ ^^^^"^ organ through which the C^iu^ mS nil ""S^' ^^^'^^ ^^« ^^ questions of Christian life and woik^fl ^^'T }^' ™^'^^«^« on should be started, containing ^apIrsVr S^b ''^'^''^' " "^^-"'^^"^« sold at the lowest possible p'ice Hp tb„« 1 ''^^,^'°^' ^"^ ^^ be J«r^A am^za^ il4«.m. a monthlv n n ^''f''\f'\^' ^^ the ^^^>,. Paton and Richie, in Edinburgh Short ..'^ V^\^\i^h^^ by Messrs. soientihc subjects, bio-naS mi.l, •''^'?^?^^^'. P^Pers on social and parochial and church 01 S ^'^^^^^ upon contents. oioamzation, and notices of books, formed the The Christian Magazine never aH^^h^c.A „ but the editor was wdl satisfipTnn 1 1 ^ ""^7 ^'^"^e circulation : lies to which herouTd ad dr 3 himl ro'1 :T "^^^^'^^^'^ ^^ ^'^^^ f^""" the appeals made in it 'ptes <^^^ ^ I ''' '"'^ ^' "° ^^^^^ ^'^'^^ organized parochial work did nucb n . ""^^^^^'^T enterprise, and was broadband toleran?as\tVaT:!;ilr^''^'" * ^^^^^^^ ""'' "^^^^^ infln nnHn- tb ' fi. f ^ ? , intended tor the firp^idp^ r^v ru^^^M« with a vengeance ! A man refuses to re cognise or worsh p the personal God, and ends by worshipping hmself «.«. ^^\^««\"5l^0V' .*^'. ^PP''^^*^ «^ ^J^^^' ^°^ expresses the etsence of those systems by which the individual is annihilated. Popery is its ecclesiastical Ideal and despotism its civil. The Jesuit maxim, 'be in all hin4 a S man IS the opposite pole from Emerson. If the one svstom Se.' nan mP.S« nJ ^,^^^hi ates him, though it must in justice be added, as a ^ofS means of ultimately deifymg him. Socialism seems to me to be the Devil's ometMn^rf- ),^* ^'^^^ '!? *? ^" "P '^' ^«^^S^"g« i^ ^-^ after unioTn Mm thri-ll'^^'r'?"'1^"'f>':^","^*^^^™'^^^^' ^"^ ^' the same time affoS lum the ftJlest out-going for his individualism. It is society sacriliced to the individual. Romanism would have the individual sacrificP 1 Tn tl!! society called the Church. These two poles are alwa^^^lSfeach^L^^^^^ It IS no wonder that the ecclesia.stical and civil systems whiclwoSestrov the individual should produce the re-action of pantheism and rrpuWica^m which would embody man's individualism religiously and civill?""' ^'^ What IS the Christian tertium quid ? ^ "1. Unity with a personal God revealed in a personal Savinnr Tl^'o ^ecoststand'ffieit To recognize the existence of light, is at once to eive ud and^St- fylt^^^^^^^^^ '- ''-'-' -^ 'y ^^^^ - a eelf-lfal^^^ *„rf 1^2'T '""'^^ "'"'' t'^'^""*^ ^^'J- I say through God because we can only find our true relationship to any point within tho circle bvsoeir un^r, :fn'''"'""n"i; '^ '''^ ^^'^*''«' «-l '^»^- ^^^--t- a tie bond wS «.«*!,« .1 . 7 ^ ^''"''^•^' *h^ neighbourhood, the citizenshii) the state ' The OWl'- '"' «?t\tf^^J'^"-«« to "^en, in God our Creator ' Redeemer TW-T'"^^ui"'''*"^ '''' ''^''^^ tendencies to God our /rn.„fo • ?• , * P^'"t *^f '^ system, to whoso wc'll-beina ho miist con necoss ty of iv L Hh necessity of labour us another bond, and so is the unless ::'.;cd;rL" ^' 4'?^;^ ?S ^^hT" "f ' '"' '"'"• ^" ''«'^^^ bo faith n.. ^.M,.i, ' i" ." "**^ ^^''■^'''"^' ™P^'f'« giving, whether it ■i 196 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. II f=' I "No wonder Pantheists and Socialists hate the personal God, the familr, the Word, the Church." • ' 7. To Mr. JAMES M'Phbbson (an Elder in Loudoun) :— "Dalkeith, February 17, 1849. "I need hardly tell you that I very sincerely sympathize with you and with all my d^r old friends who are now in the midst of such sore and solemn trials. I fancy myself among you, going from house to house I see your faces, and know how you will all think and feel. I wish vou would let me knuw who have been carried off. From my parish visitation book, I can recall the face and character of every one I knew in the parish as well as I could th« day I left it, and I feel anxious to know who have been removed. " How soothing to feel that we are not lost in the big crowd, that our case IS not overlooked by Him who is guiding the stars— but that His eve of ove rests upon us and that He is attending to each of us as really and truly as He did to Martha, and Mary, and Lazarus, whom He loved !" To John Mackiktosh (in Rome) :— " Da'Lkeith, December 26, 1849. " Your letter inflamed my blood and fired my brain, and unless I knew from experience that 'we may not hope from outward forms to live the (what?) passion and the joy (life?) whose fountains are within.' I sliould certainly have been unhappy. Dear John, all our happiness flows from our blessed Redeemer. He divideth to each, gifts, talents, place, work, circumstances, as seemeth good to himself. Blessed is the man who can trust Him, and take what He gives, using it for the end for which it is given. ^0, dear John, I will not envy thee ! Thine is Rome, mine is homo. Thine the glories of the past, mine labour for the glories of the future without the past. Thine the eternal city with all— all— art music ruins, visions, ideal day dreams, choking unutterable reminisceAces ; a spiritual present, impalpable, fascinating ;— all-all that would make me laugh, weep, scream, siiig— all, and more are thine. So be it. Mine is a dillerent lot, but both are given us by Him, to be used for His kingdom and glory ;— and darling, thou wilt so use them, I am sure ! The spirit of tlie greatest man Rome ever held within her walls, even that old tent- maker, ho who after his wintry cruise came weary and careworn up the Appian way- Ins humble and heroic spirit will be thine ! and His, too bv whom he liv(3d! For this day ('tis past 12 a.m.!) reminds me Christ is born, and the world ot Cicero and Cresar - not ours, but a world unseen bv the eye, unJ.eard by the ear; a world whose glories are in dim w>'nd anil dusky tenement a.i much as in Rome. So, dear John, I will do His will here, and thou there, and if we be faithful, we shaH have a glorious life ot It together somewhere else and for ever ! Yet, woul.l I were with thee ' It is my weakness ; 1 can guide it only, change it I cannot. " Everything in our land is flat, stale, and unprofitable. Don't believe me. I presume it is the beat land oa earth; but I have not moved itti- months trom lioma. .. . LAST YEARS AT DALKEITH. 197 _ What of the Jews in Rome % Let us labour for them, but confess thai their d^ IS not yet come, nor, I think, dawned. This is my latest conelu- mon. _ Keep thy heart, dearest. Vt^ere I in your place, I believe I shoiJi be ruined; thus I see Christ's love in keeping me at home. Poperv ! 'Tk% Bible without the spirit is a sundial by moonlight: Well done, old Coleridge • I have long believed that Popery will be the pantheistic re-action of th« latter days. Presbyterianism in our country is a poor affair. If there is to be a Church for man to embrace taste, intellect, genius, and inspire love, veneration, awe, and if that Church is to be a visible one, our Free and Bond won't be among the number. We are sermonising snobs. But I rave and run on. Don't believe me. Short of heaven there is no ideal Church. I am sure of this, that I am right in loving Christ, and in lovinc. Christians, and the souls of men for His sake. Beyond this twilight, farther on darkness ! What are you doing now 1 Gazing on the moon, feastinf^ on Christmas rites, seeing, hearing. Ah, me !" * From his Father: — "Moffat, 1840. " It would truly give me real delight if you could go to London and act fts ray substitute, and m such a good cause. The poor Highlands and Isles are as worthy of your efforts as Germans or Jews or Indians, and they re quire It just aa much. The only legacy I can k you is an interest, a liearttelt interest in that i>oor people whose blood liows in your veins Do my dear fellow, think of it." " ' From his Note-Book : — "yl Work for 1850.— Janum-f/ 18. It is now being impressed upon minds, slow to learn from anything but facts, that the Church of Scotland IS daily going down hUl. We are weak, weak politically, weak in the hearty attachment of any class— upper, middle, or lower, learned, earnest or pious— to us, as a Church ;— there is no State party who care one farthing for us on great, national, and righteous principles. Yet all this would not necessarily be evil if we were strong Godward. Nay, it might prove a blessing, the blessing which often springs from a sore chastisement But I cannot conceal from myself that we have reached the depth im- mediately below which is destruction, of being weak towards God in faith love, hope, devotedness, and in simple-mindedness for His glory. I cannot hAy what amount of good may exist in the Church. God knowet* how many hi.lden ones it may contain ! and He may see many tears sheii in secret, and may hear many groans for the sins of Jerusalem, and m*ny prayers may enter His ears for her peace and prosperity. But sin can be seen. The evil is manifest, and what Ls bful is visibh;. 'Tliore is sloth and an easy indifference as to the state of the Church. No searching, as far as man knows, to find out our sins. No phms, no strivings to meet (iiffioultiee and evils, to do our work m wo should do. Evervwh(ire disunion, separa- tion, men flying from social (iiu!Htion.s which affect the Uidy, and even the good men seeking relief in the H|>iritual selfishnei* of |»or8onaJ and pftrish work, as n terrified to look at things withm and around. " In these circumstjvnces the work I would pr()i>o«« would b« a oasTomtivn of a number (however small) to inquire ink* the stale of Zion ; to tmk ami 198 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. ■ ' ; * ^ijf. to do V" f-tniebi prayer, i^ord, what wilt thou have us To Mrs. Dennistoun :— . The only defect m Skye is, that I never can get him to laucrh TTp i, that mv beloved parents will not consider an epistle from me an ir e™. .tancos. I awake abo„t eisht. and lie thinking ,1 1 t'Zl^orV'Z" tt little cottage somewhere, with small room<» nnrl r,;^^ wut^s ana took und some heL; and then'l just Thil.girhor weTitT^^lf^^^ mamma and papa, and all m^ brotherslnd sistersrand nop^ws and niecT and uncles and aunts, all to live to.'ether for a lona nnr+ .,! a. . ' the gr,..s and to feed the pigs and C^ ^^''l^^i^.t^l'Zi make our own clothes and shoes. My uncle would make the slfoes and th . and mamma would sit in farge arm chairs ai^r^'us tS ut^ ^IZ mormng and evening, am' toll us nice stories about the HiS^^^^ would keep accounts and everytliing in order ' EvorvthW wn M k' ul cr^rr r"4'''r::.,ef/ ';;z~/.-'- .'f "=^s^ •A favourite terrier. ■ lAST TEAMS AT DALKEITB. ^ 199 think. «Bless me,' says I to Elizabeth Story, 'what is life worth if wp o«t, no* have peace ? What is the good of all th s rant anc busTle r ' iTrZ' 'wSci'tk?Lrr ;t * ™i^ *'^^ ''°^^^^' ^i* didn't/ say« she. co^ ? ,V J ^^ ^- ^"^ ^'^"'■^^ '* ^o^ld,' says she. ' I would think so ' says 1 I would at least think so,' says she. ' I am certain of it ' savs I a make no doubt myself at all of it,' says she. ' Nor anybody el e ' says I and thus we spent a quiet, peaceful, calm half-hour." ^ ' The beginning of this year, 1851, was marked by two events which had an important mfluence on his future life. On the 23rd of January he heard, with great pain, of the death of his valued friend Dr Black r.^^t'^.w ?' ^"'''^y' ?^^^Sow, and in a few weeks Serwards he earned that he congregation were anxious that he should be presented to the vacant parisL Dr. Black had on his death-bed expressed the desire that Norman Macleod should succeed him, and the Se were HOW unammous m petitioning Government to thit effect. To his Fathkr : — " January Slit, 1851. "I mean strictly to avoid all movement on my own part in regard to the Barony; nor do I wish you to move in it. The sessiL and people know r^ish^s'^nr rr"^''^ "^V^ °^y ^''^''"'^^ ^^^ P^^bHc charaS If th" tha I lt7f •' '"^ ;? '"'^ ""^ unanimous way as will satisfy my mind fill ffl ^. choice of the parties most interested in obtaining a minister I shall feel It my duty to accept it. If there is a canvass dividing the con gregation, I shaU forbid my name to be mentioned. I am willing fgo or stay, as God shall see it best for my own good, and the good of souls" ^ To bis Mother :— " 1851 ' JJelieve me I am discii,lined to be a far more peaceful man than I was whac I am. I am not a man of genius, or of power, or of learning and can do nothing groat in the world's sense ; but by the gr;ce of God I S le kind and gf , ^t T^r""^ ""^««« ^^e craving friend be selfishnek ' ^' '^ '^'^^ ^^' ^'^ ^*r«^e" to my dearesf " What shall be the end thereof?" news. Like the w;man X shol ^0.^^ PT ^' *° *«^ ^^^ '"^ gmmng-i.«., from Stuttgart ^^^'"^'^^' ^ °^"«* ^^^^^^ at the be- no ;a3:^gt Sty ::i^0?^^^^^^^^ -ith two horses, and grey in tJ^ service of that n ysteriZ PHnl f ^^fJ^^^r who had grown aod co»d«ctors. My companion w^nioi^.^' T} '''^f^'y^^t^ Schmager, sneezed, otiered aie k.4«. fx"m hisTatl fT^V ^^"'^'^'^ ^« ^^en I dinner from me, by way of sEnt ijl , ' ^'f ^'"'^^^ ^""'^ t^^« half of mv a series of nods, intimating, V'to r," ? wi^'r/^^""' b"t I managed bv Inm profoundly with my intelligJce ' ^ '"^'^^^ «'^'' *« i^i>re« s^BS lAST YEABS AT DALKEITH. 201 where I am. Calw is in snmp ,roii^ i . , S^^' ^^^ -f hardly know yet Gasthauser, and lAstrLranJ fi. t '/^^ ?^^^' ^™g streets, -i^SrKs^-J]^::!!^!-^ and e. mi.sion!ry museum A more foilvW^'r ' ^''' '^'^^'^^'^ ' *^^« ^^^^ * Everything about it enWrtL , Si f /•''''''^ ^^^ ^^^^^' ^^re in! part of the'globe. T^e pfctul TL '^"'''' T' .*^«"gh*« *« ^^ery cover the walls of the rooms tTe^nn?T™r T^ "^^^«^«^ «^«^«« ^^^t the spirit. The very cToor;S.T^' ^rf'- *'7^'' '"^^ ^^« ^^^^^gi^g to It has in its dial S U^e J1^ ZrZT^^^ ^''''^' ^^^ '' '"''^^ ' P«e«^- die one counts GerL^tiiT C nl . .^^ r"' '"'^^ °''''' ^^^ ""^J" New York, and Jenmlem '' AffK" '' *^' *™" ^* ^^^^i^'' Otaheite, five minute's to one a m in Pektn (te J^'^'^' ^' '' " ^"'^^•*^^ ^'^ «^- ^^^^e P.M. in Jerusalem (tt sun is sh Slt lf.r^''''''.^r''' '^ ^ ^^^'^'P^^* ««ven inOtaheite;tenmnutespasrm3vf^^^ ''' ^^'T^^ ' ^ q^'-^^er-i^ast six Street is full of business if ^ ^ money-making New York."^ (Wall da;7il\famtTfulT;"T^^ ^'^^^^^f-^- I* -uld take mission stations. One littlftriflT.h^i^r '' T'''"^'' ^^"^«' *''•' ^^e from marble from the b«n stone of Tl "''"' ^ ""'' ^ *"'' ""^ P"'' ^^"*" that the whole tempTe nms have been of'', l'-^"'^^^ , ^' ^'^^^'^' ^ ^'^"^k, knew before); and if so how nurp f ^ 'r'"*^ "^•'^^ble (which I never a beautiful t^pe of ChrSt's ChS^" '^"'""^ "^ *^^ ^"'^'^ r.ys-y.lr.t world, and know^s Zre of theCen and ul h.r""'"f ^^ ^" P'''^'*^ ^^^ ^^e living. ^®" '^^'^ *'i®" missions than any other man becomes more real, more ilomn tJ^h ■ '^ i' ''^ ''"" *'" r'»rtinst wind, keeps „p ^r orJtrOo ., *^^^^V^f^ '^"^^' ^"^ ^^ ^eart met their ^c/^m^/er. I to d 1 em^^^ /// t^ ^ ^^''^ '^^«*^ °^« ^ ^ ^^^d brother, and showed ^e th StcC rt i^''^ ^/ T' '''^''^ "^« «« * my pictures of the calm ocet^^nl^.i^Xli^f ^^^^'^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^ opened'?^shJ:^wMciV:;t ^ndt w v " ^^ '"'^^''' ^"^^« ^ ^^^t- I broken sentences, ea iX ;eml Tn an ^n ^ communicative. He spoke in me, while he always turned un his pvo^ T\ "''''"'. ''"'"^^ confidentially to Bide, and wriggled^is w^s a^ ifViZ r'""' ^"P* ^"^ ^^^^^^^ V Jii"^ brief communications " An ohl cloister tS iTlT '''■' '"' ^^^'^"^ '^^ In old t..L thly for^r t' i^'Z^'^Jt^^^^^ 204 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. Mmce.) 'The people are S ^ZTV^''' ""^^ doing, avd immense con- church-mmis4-all!lanr love God « J' ^^ Tt "^f' *^« heart our soundings. I left h/m W <^od and man.' He darted oflf to take ].eart oAumanitv ! Hottrnd Sr i ' T'^ *>"^*¥'-- ^^' ^^-^-a ficent study is nmn and W etltr . nl" '* '' ^"^^ •' W^^* « magni- iood, to rise like a hiU^vI tt eS. /^ times to realise one's brother- m., and to feel that bXare rooted tf?'"' '"'^*'' converse with other t^e s^me sun and are refreXdtfh Setrr; '''''' ^^^ ^^ ^^^^^ .your ti^!;Lf SfmCt fr^^^^^^^^^ "^ ^"V^^^-* -^ P-% to take back to thl dear group aTSnstX ^""' P"""' ^™"«' ^ ^^ ^-gged -^^n:^Vt:o7LVjZty^^^^^^^ *h- ordinary sorrow, trust, trust. Dearer infinTtelv^JpZ" ^l V^7- ^^ ^"'*^ otherwise. Oh than he can be to S" ' '' ' *° ^'' °^^ ^''^ ^^^ brother Su ely tis all a dream ' Is this the Rhine ? is this majestic pile of ruin old St. Goar? That fM--off rush of water Lurlei's roar 1 Oh what a joyous life of lives wa« mine, F^ rfl!^!^ ^^' '^'^^^"^ ^"'« of clustering vine Fust flashed upon me in the days of yore > Such glorious visions I can see no more I ' For though within a holier light doth shine, ^et this deep sorrow veils it a^ a cloud, Ustmg from shore to shore a sombre shroud riiat scarce a trace of the old life is found ' into one wish my thoughts and feelings blend To be with those dear mourners who furround The dymg-bed of my best earthly friend." From his Journal :— For ever shall I vividly JLemWr 2 ^\^''' ^'''''' ^^^ ^^^^^ "^o^ths. of morbid anxietyas I hTrld on l! i '^"^ •''"''"'^' *''' ^"'^^"° ^''''' that river darke/ed by ^l^^\Zit"il^^^^^^^ moonlight, which seemJd ZLhtZ fn " *^ Stuttgart, and then bv midnight I stood outride ll'to^'J^ ^"'''^'' '" ^^^'"»^"' ^^til after there. Shall I ever forget SemeeiTnt ^ theT' '%*' i"^!'^ ^ ^'^' '^^ -«^ prayer, by hopes, by heavenlTXantrf J ' °I '^''''^'''''^ ^^"o^ed bv sore strugglin,^. And then hifrZ Z "^^^f-f '^ ^O'^'-^^- V fears anil the big chair,^the table with t Zks 7tT\i^^^ '"■^'"^-"^' *^« '''''^' •elf seated on the bed, the brown ilii '^£\^Y'^'^^^^^^^'> the stove, him- - side, the ^ac^.'.nile, ^^.^l^t^^fJ:^^:: LAST YEARS AT DALKEITH. 205 per- ter% •rds ;ow- our ake eat ni- er- iei' itli ke ed w, 1 ! er the whispered holy things, the drawing-room too, and the piano, the life in death, the sunshine * that never was on sea or land.' Then cam© Tuesday, the 11th, and at early dawn the last farewell, while at evening thou wast with thy Father !" T9 .w " Dalkeith, Sunday. "All hail ! The Lord is risen. The world is redeemed, and that coffin shall be broken, and that darling body be glorified, and we shall be with him and all in Christ forever. And, oh, the calm joy of assurance, deep as in the existence of God, that on this lovely spring Sabbath, when flowers are bursting forth, and birds are singing, and the sun is shining, in this world of sin and death, he, our beloved darling, is really in life and strength and intelligence and unutterable joy, remembering us all, and waiting for us ! Will he not feel so at home 1 Is he not breathing his own delicious air ? I see him now with a sunny look of joy, gazing on his Lord, praising Him, meeting every moment some new acquaintance— new, yet old. Oh ! this is not death ; it is life ! 'life abundantly.' " To the Same :— '* Tuesday, Mth March. — What can man say or do? Leaving Cann- .S'tadt, leaving it in such silent company ! My spirit is with you all day, often, often in the watches of the night. At four this morning I was praying for you." To the Same :— " Wednesday Afternoon. ~1 have been thinking much of that luggage aad those things of his. It is strange, inexpressibly strange to see dead thuigs only, and not to see the living one. Yet was it not so when Christ rosel The linen clothes and the napkin, left in order behind, and He gone I But our dear one lives ! and I can so well fancy him smiling at those poor remembrances of sin and sorrow, which are nevertheless to us signs of faith triumphant in death. I am sure when our day of death comes, if we have time to think, the room at Cannstadt will be strength to us." ^ ■' « From his Journal : — "April ll.'„•>, : ^' 206 LIFL OF NORMAN MACLEOD. -'•I li m " all men once to die. Thy sweet will be done ! I yield to Thine annr >inf , iPnf v My Savxour has gone before me; as a little chilli fo loi !' A^We -^^^ aid hun and rolled the sod over him. Yet the birds continued to ina aiid the sun to shine, and the hills to look down on us. But lonrafter earSx's melodies have ceased, and the mountains departed, and the f uu vanTshed that body «hall live m glory, and that beautifj^l spirit be- ^^nished, '"A Meranon singing in the great God light.' " ' Oj sir, tht, good die first ; And those whose hearts arc dry as summer's dnst Buvn to the socket !' " O God of infinite grace, help me— help us, weak, trembling infirm gnorant, to cleave fast to Thee in all Thy ways-to be led TrThy SfS int'lS ^""'K^^ ""r*^'^ ^^""^ ^^^^ ^ "^^ concentrated life. I have lived TnTTy\ / ^'f ^ •^'^' ^T"^ '"^""^ ^^*^^ ^V bidding farewell thi day to a devoted and loving p(.ople ! When I glance over the last twent vea^ ;ay pU^^^^^^^^ °' "'^ ^ K'^'^' «*"king, wild.lnd TutUS way phases. 1 lancy I have seen it in its strangr-st hues and into its HptM Ina more than most people ; often too much so for my own hr.ppiLess." ^ Letters to : — 'conditLl'?. if- T"""^^ ^'' r *° ^^^^ °^ "^^^^^3 ^Wness without conditions as t is for you, perhaps much more so; but we know that if ^ve really yield oursol ,-es to God's teaching within and without--u our hearts and m our circumstances-and know" that it is His wil and not ours merely, t.e., that it mu.t be, or ought to be, (for with cSians must tifhTife tr " r^ ^'"V" '^^" '-- l--e, foi' L shall have SwTp with tne .^nL oi God. You cannot feel yourself more an infant than I do^^ >leteV;ceiyntntWh .''''• , ^* '' *) •* ^ ^^""^» "I'' ^"^ « ^'"'^'^ ^^'^ <'om- K?:\nt ; ^rf • ^^ best possible way (i.e., in God's way) of the riches of His bounty It is being first in sympatliy with God, judgin-^ and chooJn^ ^r^i:f ^^7''r'^ '^"^'^ ^-««l-ntly resting ^satisfic;i^traIH'o wdls us to 00, GO do, to receive, .7.V0 up, suffer or enjoy " To the Same :— . " Sunday Kight •^ Duties are the education for eternity, which is endless duty. Mar i)lei'',uiv's are m ( xact. proportion to our duties " All religion is si.mmod up in ona little word, I for prayer ; (2) Pray earnestly at com- mencement (igain.st it, (3) Divide the prayer, so as to have confi'ssion for a few miii-'tcs, then Uiairksniviiig, iVc. This gives relief to the strain on tho mind. I speak as a man who lot^ks Imck witli horror at my carelessness in ■ecret prayer. Backsliding begins in Uio oloset, and ends — where 1" it' ii 1 w 208 ZIFU OF NORMAN MACLEOD. V\ \\ To the Same :— «T*i,-i .1 ^-n . . , "^^^"^"^i™. Saturday Morning. 1 thmk that Baxter s seventh chapter in the ' Saints' Rest ' is something far, for beyond even himself. One should get it by heart; it is sue 1 diapter as hat-so earnest, so searching, so awfully solemn and true-^ which humbles, and stirs up, and makes one feel intensely 'I have no vet attained/ and resolve more firmly to do this 'one thing/-press on, and on ! S\nS'l P"? exi^ct] To be glorified with clirist! equal ' with s\ John and St. Paul-this or devils! To press on is to realise more blessed- ness and g ory^ more joy and perfect peace ! Oh, how weak I am-a very very babe ! But it requu-ed Omnipotence to make me a babe." To the same :— "Dalkeith, Sunday Evening. TJl^«!*^'^''^'''^^f '""^^ fr' ^'""^^ «« «*™«k at one time to-day. Jmundll^^f ""'''' T^ '' aT ^T^ '^"'"^ ^"^"""^ 'i^^^^' ^^^ rushed along tlfe giound hke foam snatched by the stom-blast from a wiutrv ocean- but ihl moment It ceased, there was such a sweet blink of suns Z and insltly the woods were full of melody from a whole choir of blackbi -ds! We too should sing when the storm is over !-but why do we not beat tiriiirds tvZlv ""^ 'Are we not better than the fowls?-yet God cal^' in 'In ^T PJT^''^ ^" ^"^''''"•^ ^"'^ ^'■^^'^'^^' America and the Continent m all sorts of p aces on sea and land, in huts and palaces, to paupers and to themrj/ -""^^T ^''^ f «.-nosity to know the Lults ! and lihall know them ! It IS a noble, a glorious work ! I praise God for giving me suoh a wat; bI no ^T^ *'t' f n ' ' ^"^^^^-^ *" ^^''^'"'^ ^ ^^ ' ^«^ ^^e a casta way ! But, no ! I know I shall not-praiso to his omnipotent Grace ! ^auLfT I ^-f' ^''f'' ^ ''^'^ ^"'^ '"'^"' ^'"t I "«^e^- i'^^ an hour smyht for work-It was always given.to me. I know your active spirit is one of the features of your cliaracter, but be patient, and only by God's grace keep your mind m that most necessary state-which will discern the Lord 8 voice when He calls. I have great faith in what I call signs^n e sonbable hints, palpable hints, that ' tliis is the way, walk ye in it.'^ One can not, before they come, tell what they shall be ; but when the ' ft Iness of the time' comes when the Lord has appointed us'to do anvthing, some at o^ ?o I's'tTr. ' '"™r home instantaneously to us witiithetnyiction^thi Loril 8 time has come I I have to do this ! "• To the Samk :— " Shall I tell you all I have been doing to-day t ' ^"^^ ^''' ^'""^"'■ J.ILZT'^ *"" ^-'^ i r'f l^"!'^' *"^' '"■ ^^'^^^ •""' been broken up all day. and in the evening I did the honours to . By the way, in .dl o„r judS m.-nts .nd cntu-isn.s of j.eopio, wo should ever see then in tlX t f. r.lat.on«hipB to us. The world has one set of ruh«., the ('h U a ot, " Jj^l'"*^^ 'ir'^'"'"^?''"'"''':"^^^^ '""» t»"' "- winch is m2 of JA em. See Auigs in their spiritual rather than their earthly relationslmw I do not say that one cwn entirely forg.-t the latter, or that when combined wuh the former (I moan the gift with the grace) thev do „.>t mnto ri"r., creature luucii mor« beautiful ; but accustoiuiiig oursolvcs to these thoughts LAST YEARS AT DALKEITH. 209 *|« our judgments and mode of thinking and speaking about people will every day be modified and bi-ought by degrees into greater harmony with God's judgments. _ I have had sore struggles with this ; but intercourse with the good, especially among the working cksses, has gradually moulded my feel- ings into a quieter state. And how has all this been so rapidly suggested 1 T cannot help smiling, yea laughing, at poor haviag been the cause ! l.ut 1 often feel sore if I have seemed to speak unfeelingly or unkindly or in a worldly way of any one or for any cause, who I feel is a believer. ' " I am only at one in the morning yet ! I rose at half-past s«ven, read &c., till halt-past eight. Went to my Sabbath school at Hin©. Preached tvyice. Went in the evening with Jane to read part of my sermon to dear l^^hzabeth Patterson, and had worship there, after paying a visit to an old woman who I believe was really brought, as she says lierself, to the know- ledge of Christ by me when she was sixty-three, and whom I admitted for the hrst time as a communicant !" To the Same :— " Tuesday Evenin/j , June 26, " By fellowship is meant one-mindedness, sympathy, agreement It is not the submission of a servant to a command because it is a command It IS more, much more than this. It is the sympathy of the friend with the tnend, seeing and appreciating his character and plans, and entering into them with real heart satisfaction. It is the ' amen,' the ' so let it be,' of th« spirit. 'I have not called you servants, but fiiends.' To have thi« fellow- ship two things are needed : first, knowing our master's will, wd secondly having that mind and spirit in us which necessarily sympathise*! with it ''It IS dolightful to stand in spirit beside Christ, and look outwards from that central point, and see Uiings as lie sees tliem. This in h»ving His ' Jiglit and 'life,' and therefore so living and seeing as He does ; and while we do so Ho has fellowship with us ! There is something very grand I think in this high culling, to be partakers of Christ's mind and ioy ! It is such godlike treatment of creatures ! It sliows Uie immense benevolence of Christ, to create us so as to lift us up to this sublime position, to make us joint heu's with Himself in all this intellectual and moral greatness and blessedness,' * i To tlio Same :— . f u ^I'V'^i'^* '"""^^ "^ *° breathe a little after visiting sick. How beauH- tully C hrist 8 example meets us ami suits us in evorything. In visitinjr the sick petty suHerings'fiom the close den, bad air im.l fifty things which are sometimes almost insullerabi,. to our senses an.l tastes But Avhen one is disposed to fly, or get disgusted, the thought t-omes of His waslnng ||,s disciples' feet, and living am..ng wretched men. He who was rich -from wlmm all fasto and the perception of the iKnuiti- fn has come! Ho who was heir of all things. Yet. with His human wtliire, what must H(^ havo ' put !p with ' in lovo ! " It is ditlicult to separate the real fi„m the acci.lental. Hut when I see a iKxn-, ugly, unlearned ("hiistiaii, f sometimes think that if tho he,.,.f. a-ul spuit remaiiied as they were—yet if that face by some magic power was made beautitul, that tongue made to speak nicely,' that form made elegant, II 210 LIFE OF NOliMAN MACLEOD. X . if' 'M i!!:] r I ri revolution m the good and the bad like this ? Thus you sTe I txyTnd idealize k^is^nT ^•' ^^^i'^^" f ^^ P«^^ ^h"«*i-^ bodies, and i/possib^^^^^^^^ kings and queens shining through their poor raiment. ^ You never beheld a more peaceful, lovely evening. Oh ! it is heav«nlv The krge pear-tree is bursting into blossom, the willows are Soh ydW ^ the woods, and the birds are bu«y with their nests. ^ " 'Singing of summer with full-throated ease, o^alm r^Wh V Z ''^'"' r r*''^"^ ' ^^>^ ^« ^^* ^^^»'« t'lrobbing heart equaHy ^!rLugT^4ttL7^Lt:^^^^^^^^^^^^ in theheart ; but it is .«.time^ ^:J:^Sr.^l:^t^^' ''' better root than I had ttught. S God for it r ''' "'' '" *^^^" Tit the Samb :— ui? , .. ^ " Friday Night, m. for a'^L^'^Tn h/^Ltlttrb,'!/"'"" ^'°"^' 'f " "''' "»' »« «■- • 1- 1 . ^*""^ "^ saw It the burthen was removed for pvpv i tt»,k„i- e IS di.shonourinc to God Vnu cr),^..;A. u- v. ""' .^*''^' ^^^ ^^^^ • Unbelief word?" Ai.rf l;f '*' ^""^ T"''"^ *^^ ^'^'^P^^ b^ ^'^1"^ P-ace as well as by to notwigC ''"'"^ P''^'^'^' ^" *^^^"- ^•^I'^^i^^ to Christ, and "I have had two days' visitation since you went awav Vn„ h..r^ «; ; 0„„ co„vcy to you i„ a few L«, »,.„i,„ ™:/™ ^J ' ^' ""^ 1. A liusbauil s,„k, has hardly ,,,„k„„ for ,„„„t|,s tu |,i, wife and familv -«Jh»l,, je«lo»s; I got thorn reoondle.1; ,,ro„,i»e.s to have faTnily I'Z/" ^e fre^t: ,nr"„ rz- 1^' *»,:'r,;.:'r "'""7 ■ r -^^y of medLe, f„!. alwaystioL to':f wt„'m.''''* ^ «" ""'""«'' ' "™™'' " 3. A bedi [ilderi paiiiKir-— horrid Iiouse. il't ^''■ii''u''^ taitor-very inteilij-e.it. Ifnd re«,l Al.„„ T„„Ve j.^ A^^l,„,r ,-.th bm. i .hook him boartUy by the hani-i. t„ ^oiTr^ I LAST YEARS AT DALKEITH. 211 " 5. An idiot pauper — a half-idiot sister— a daughter-in-law of latter, wiio is very wicked, says ' she will take her chance' for eternity, was im- pressed by ali I said yesterday, but came here to-day tipsy, but knowing, however, what she was saying. *' 6. A mother very anxious — had a long talk with her, she received good and comfort. And so on, and so on. Oh, for unselfish, Christian hearts to live and die for the world ! How far, far are we from Him who left the heavens and became poor and lived among such — to lift us up ! Alas ! alas ! how unlike the world is to Him ! It has no tears — no labours, no care for lost man. We are selfish and shut-up. Christians hardly know their Master's work in the world !" ■■\ I ri::i 1 m IJ)!! CHAPTER Xlir 1851—1856. year was imrried tacZhtT 'T l\^^'^ ^^^^ of August in the same WilliarMStoti CS'rt^^^ Mackintosh, daughter of the late John Mackintosh ^" '^'^''' ^^^ '''^^' ^^ ^^' ^^^arest friend, ofll^TiXZ^^^^^^ ^' *^« --^- extremity from it. upper windorjtSey'o? ZnT^ ' ^'''r ^'''^''' over the int-rvenino- ronf« nVi J ^ . ? ^^^^^^ lay m front, and light on the tier nmtf of s^^ ''K^' -«^ed with de- aM'ay, and beyond the snK^! o f W ^^ u» ^^'' ^^''y^' ^^^^'^lier Hills, and Hurlet Neb nnd Ji « f^' '°'' *^'' ''^"-^ of the Catlikin own enjoyment of the scene up-stans, to share his Jro'gWy eoi'^^^^^^ "^P""' of Scotland were that k o'cio L " t rack? ,v 1°"'' ' '"""^■■"""'"'K, an ITT 'f ''T" ^''"■'' '»"' '" "'" tho„4nd hauan,eCVh gi, g 1 a thoS fd t';'!!'"''".'"""'' *" ,"',"'^'' " ing that tl,e city had aS^feLVtoZSry'tf 1,™^ "^'"'' '""■ It wa« his habit to rise verv porlv o,„i ,wf "'/'!"""^; ^ to devo.i.n, he wrote or stuSd « f b ■ Ui^'I'l \' "'"' '"""" cl.K-Ny omjiloyed reeoivin™ n«,.^,„T„ i- ,■ ''"o *' "" '"'""™' "f every con- visitation, a^d ote pu c toie w',''' T """'''''"^ "■'"' P""'*'^'' .n hour . urinAK™ M for tW ,.,!'" "."'l' V'"''^''- ''" ■■"»''"'''l «ioud. Kvery\sat:rd™";;^l:k1i::;;:irr;/ t'tr'v-".^'?'!'^ .. o.,«t uut enjoyment. The ,ir.t ..it of thi; w^lk Z^^^ \ 1851—1856. 213 } him to John Macleod Campbell's house/ which was two miles out of town and, with hira as his companion, it was continued iato the country. But in whatever direction he went, the day seldom ended without his visiting the Broomielaw, whew, for a while, he would wander with de ight among the ships and sailons, criticising hulls and rigging, and looking with boyish wonder at the strange cargoes that were being discharged from the foreign traders. Few contrasts can be greater than that presented to the stranger who, after gazing at the hoary magnificence of Glasgow Cathedral— the very embodiment of the spirit of reverence and worship— looks across the street at the plain square pile of the Barony Church Yet any one \/ho knows the work with the recollection of which that un- pretendnig edifice is associated, will be disposed to pardon its ugliness in consideration of a certain sacred interest clinging to its walls When he was inducted to the Barony, Norman Macleod at once recog- nized his position as minister, not only of the congregation which worshipped there but of the enormous parish (embracing at that time 87,000 soiils, and rapidly increasing) of which this was the Parish Church. There were of course many other churches in the parish ; it contained the usual proportion of dissenting congregations, in addition to some chapels connected with the Church of Scotland. These nevertheless were not only inadequate to the reciuirements of the population, but were unequally distributed, so that many densely in- habited districts were left unprovided with either Church or School There were also at a depth reached by no agency then existing, those C^^^S^::;^. ^°"^ ^^ ''' '-^'' '^''- '^^ -^^'^'y P-Siem of Every Sunday he preached to crowds that filled every seat and pas- sage ; yet by tar the greater proportion of those actually connected with his church were not rich. They gave him, however, from the first, such hearty support in the furtherance of all his measures fW Z Tf°anv onr"' '' 'T' '''''' ? '''''' '' ''' comparat~«^ Thln^' ^ congregations in the Cluircli accomplished so much The Barony afforded a noble field for the development of his convic- manifoM w nt'ot'^ "?" ""^'''"i congregatio/i in referenceTthe man tol I wants of society. When he entered on his new chai-e his mind was lu 1 ot the subject, and he gave enq.lmtic uttenl'e both u ^:t^ eS^'"^ -'''-' '^ ''^^' ^^^- ^- - ^^-t'tot.;; Imt nL ./. "'^^^"^t.on from a iium.stor, or to unite in public worship but al.o to consKler one another, and to provoke to love and .^ood woS ' and a. a society to do ' good unto all as they have opportunity. ' . . . It 18 a body. Its nieniher are parts of an organized whole T1,a ue»iu!ir:;;i!inhuE'''i;'i;.':^";'' -"»"■-' '™' ^ » "-^^'^ ,i' i\ .1 , I '* ' ■ li I ! (' lit ''I-' P*i '.^ ) III m 2U LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD immlVpref^^'th ^S^^^^^ - acldition to, the and innumerable separate a^HoS^^^^^^ ^f.^ ^^'•^"g^ individuals, tian Church acting through "ts dTstinct tT^'r''^^ ''"'''y ^^ '^^ ^hri.. an army acting tLouK, 1-fil, f organisations or congi-egations, like which Christ has Sled not^rforT'^*'' ^' '^' ^''^ '^'^^^ ^^^^^^ edification of saints S also L J • ^ ^f^yersion of sinners and the being of humanity' wf hold thatThr^h"' V^'* ^'^^^^^^ *« *^« ^«"- structed and worked accoidin^ 1 +1 ' . ?^^*f !^ congregation, if con itself individuallHr Tn cSncttn wtf '^ '^ ^*' ^'''^''' '^^'^^'' in moral, intellectual active, anTsocalfor^^^^ ^^'"i 'T''^'^*^""^' ^^^terial, God's work on e.U.,.are t^^^^^^^^^^ :Sktt:rSoS' ^^ now is-? • Is^'thVcVnceXr noV: ^oT"'^^^ ^'-^^^^^^^ -SuutS'iurs carried out, woulHnSearto su^h ext^f ""'*''"' ''\ ? ^**^^P*«*i *« be as from time to time have charL Sr^?!^^^^^^^^ ^"^^ ^*^^*^«^^ disorders, perfect Churches, havfsunk S^'trbe neT^'*' ^^"'^^ ^? ^^^^^^ *° ^e only look at the elements you hive to in,? """"'Tf' \ ^* "^^^^ ^esaid, or this shopkeeper. Study that servt^f .1 • P^"" ' ^°^ ^* ^^^^^^ farmer of those parishioners, Wthe LbouJe?^^^ ?f ^ "' ?n*^^; ^^*«^' *I^« house the principle, the co^morst f-ry ^oV^^^^^^^^^^^ those members into a bodv for an v S ! ? f ^^it would combine another! They help to oonCt th^S - wtl ]'? ^ They love one impracticable !" ^ ' ^^^"^^ ^^ were so—but it is m^^Z^^H^^'^yf''^^^ what, at all events, and then showed how much Lent^nw ' ?i ''^''""'^ *^ ^^"^^^^^^ ^^^^y which only requires s:^S^r!t^^l^£^^ '^''^^^^ cong?e;rion,t(at^^^^^^^^^^^^ a sitter or a pewholder in a or self-sacrifice. But these n It r?-."*' ^°'' ^""^ "^"^'^ requiring courage manner we have seen amo^ro,: SS T' '" *^" -h"«^^-- In life religious enthusiast or fanatlcalMoi^nn"? '^T''n\'^^^ "^"<^«^ by some by new powers, braved tLsneerf of ?' ^^"^ ""^^ ^* ^^'^^ ^^'^'^^'^ i"Vred the next river tui^ed h s S IckTf'Z^ Vr^"^^^ exhorted, warned, prosely iseTamon. ll ^ if ^' '''*^. ^""^^diate use, token of a force lyin'g hid i one wTo L' se3i77^"""?^ ^''''''' work on week-days and to sloon on S , n !l f ^^'i'"'" ^^^^'^^'^S but to Fakir, who swings from a hook fi^^d in t "^T'' .P*^^' '^^^ the^Hindu popish devotee who br^v^ I'e (^,?,1" f ™T^T °^ ^"^ back, and every and in a comical dress, denorstmto\vl,f/''^''^ ^^ ^^^ ^^*^ bare feet only touch the mainsp;.in7onl ti It^:";, ''^f^iT"^ ^° ^^ ^^^ ^^^ congregations men and women wZ^lL fV^*'^"^'^ ^^'^^^ <^here are in many kind, which have been givIiXmlv cl 1 '? * ' •'? ^^'^ I'^^^'^ ^^ «on'« are capable of being brSt 0^1^^.?;^' '^ ^^'h^^^'- J''0"gh lying dormant, riched with «ome%l";^ or ift ^.^^,^^^^^^ , ^jT' «^«ry ^an is en: educated and properly direli:t^:{X:fi^^^^^ -^^«^' i^^ The Church demanded the discovery of these gL, thc'personal in- 1851—1856. 215 tluence of living Cliristians being the only agency sufficient to meet the evils of society. " We want living men ! Not their books or their money only, hut them- selves. The poor and needy ones who, in this great turmoil of life, have found no helper among their fellows— the wicked and outcast, whose hand IS against every man's, because they have found, by dire experience of the words intense selfishness, that every man's hand is against them— the prodigal and broken-hearted children of the human family, who have the bitterest thoughts of God and man, if they have any thoughts at all beyond then- busy contrivances how to live and indulge their craving passions— all these by the mesmerism of the heart, and by the light of that great witness conscience which God in mercy leaves as a light from heaven in the most abject dwelling of earth, can to some extent read the livin<^ epistle of a renewed soul, written in the divine characters of the Holy Spirit ' Thev can see and feel, as tliey never did anything else in this world, the love which calmly slimes in that eye, telling of inward light, and peace possessed, and of a place of rest found and enjoyed by the weary heart! They can understand and appreciate the utter unselfishness— to them a thing hitherto liardly dreamt of— which prompted this visit from a home of comfort and refinement to an unknown abode of squalor or disease, and which expresses Itself m those kmd words and tender greetings that accompany their minis- trations. ^ '' But even where there are the desire and ability to engarre in sucli a work, a wise organization is required to make them effective. "... There is not found in general that wise and authoritative congrega- tional or church direction and government, which could at least suggest if not assign, fitting work to each member, and a fitting member for each work. Hence little comparatively is accomplished. The mast willing church member gazes over a great city, and asks in despair, 'What am / to do here? And what would the bravest soldiers accomplish in the day of battle, if they asked the same question in vaini What would a thousand ot our best workmen do in a large factory, if they entered it with willing hands, yet having no place or work assigned to them 1* ". . ^ The common idea at present is that the whole function of the Church is to teach and preach the gospel; while it is left to other organiza- tions, infidel ones they may be, to meet all the other varied wants of our suffering people. And what is this but virtually to sav to them, the Church ot Christ has notlimg to do as a society witli your bodies, only with your souls and that, too, but in the way of teaching] Let infidels, then, give you better houses or better clothing, and seek to gratify your tastes and improve your social state ;-with all this, and a thousand otlier things need- ful for you as men, we have nothing to do. Wliat is this, too, but to -ive these men the impression that Christ gives them truth merelv on Sabbath through ministers, but that Ho has nothing to do with what is given them every day of the week through other channels? Whereas the Christian congregation or society ought not to consider as foreign to itself any one i E.x'tf.-ictucl from articles Christian Maijazine for 1852, ou ' What is a Ciuistiaa <;ongregation?'' in Edinburgh 216 if ! !i: ! LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. any important intersroronrCi ^«„°^"«* ,"«* /^Pamte ourselves from age over us. Let pon<«-Po.Q+,-^,,o + i • "^& ^:^ ^^^^ featan the advant- zation IS one stroncrlinlf] nf r^^ • i ,5 ^"r^v '^'^t tins. Organx- Church L another P^^^^ ^""^ self-sacrifice for the sake of the Ba™,;' ™" '"^ *' '^''y '° '^' S'"'^^ Pl»" of 1- work in the numerous might be the vario^us "wort " It tf^^l' ^r''T energy with efficiency of government 3^^ "^ individual firmed his convictions. ^'''^^'""''"^' "^"^ ^"« experience amply con- (^^^:t^ ^'"''^'^ --*-^ f- Church Endowmeat in the City Hall. af ine clergyman and a certain nuinf)er nf <-lw.~i„ if,, ,„i" , "••' ••,^"'"'' ^'-'"oi»iiui'™<"ed. e„„S^^ reading-room at their meal-hours instead nfi' ^""^ '?,°^ ^ comfortable course to the publiu-liouse tL o °^ ^'"^ ^^^'^ed to have re- deavours led to the % tab^; Jj^n' 7^,^^^^^^ [Attended these en- scale throughout the city InX Vf,;""^^^'^ ins itutions on a larger organized various methods of «ffL- ^^^'' °^ ^'^ rninistry, he also tion to the people connecTed'w^^^^^^^^ -^ soil recrea- (lu.) Tlie direct missionarvav/A '^'T'"''^- was continuaUy enlar|ng and af ttZf '"^'T^^^^orh of the parish When he first came to^h^ pa4h fofr clS '"''' '^T^"""- ^''^^^' or congregations. These chapels had Lp^^f' ^T^ ^^^^^^^^^ ministers for several years, and it now fell to him^nH f'?-^ ^^ ^^^ '^'^^ ^^^^ch procuring ministers for them and to CpT^^ ^"' '''''^^^ *° assist in being formed. In other pTa'ces whet f ^^' congregations that were churche, had to be built. In lis w ' L T P°f "^^tion was rising, •rgamzing chapels, six new chu chel w;rpM'?? *? ^^^ ^°^^' «f re- hi« mmistry, and in respect to mSt nff]''"'*?^ ? ^"« P^^^h during share of the burden of cVectiL funds Wri^^i-"^ '' ^''' ' 1^^« extension was going forward, his°mis on sSt ^^"' ff ^ °*' «^^"r?h «'^9'^rV"'''"'^^ in ten years from Tne !fj?^°^^^<^^king destitute 1852, to five missionaries kv anr? ^i • ,7 missionary, employed in anda colporteur, all Tf^dll"s^fP^^ Bible-^omen session. "^''^"^ ^^^^ superintended by him and bis sodatjShSte"^^^^ wMcfnlTn'.t*'^ ^P^^ ^^^'s As- 2. His extra-parochial vlali Tl.ri f ^°^ ^^ particularly noticed money for the mLiona^ wo^of 1' rr"^ f''^^ '"^ the raising of organization, and the inTemg^^^^^^^^^^ Here flso abroad, created by his continn.lll n^ r Mission work at home and on that subject, Le J^mS^ tSf VT^"". '' ^^^"-p"' stated, Ins congregation was not rich vet H '-^l^hough, as has been m the Church which contributed as mnob f''''':^^' scarcely another did. and he was accustomed to refer ^^IZTT'"' ^^ "^« ^'^^^ony the amount, large as it was, vva mad! un^ci '«''?" *' *^^^ ^''' ^^at In order to maintain comvre'at onnl f. ?^ °* "^""^^ ^^^'^^^ sums, brotherly unity, the kirk-se^Jionl^ssut/ n^^^ P'°"'°*^ ^ ^^^^^ of their proeee^in„3^ and a socia TesS of tW '"'''^"!'^ ^^P°^'^« ^^ sionally held, at which these ve.,7Jj? congregation was occa- tive addresses delivered ' ''^ ''^'^' ^^d kindly and instruc- In this summer he carried uur ,-■ i^- ... ^ ,, -- .-.. iQcas of the Uinistian congrega- 1851—1856. 219 re- tion as a society united for work. And it was only bv such carpfnl organization, and by the development of the latent LrP Tl. bership of the Church, that he could have ove^^aken ^e hL,^r ^ was crowded into the twenty years of h^s in^un"^ the Bar^nf The work here described, together with the studyVequisitf forThP Sunday-^might weU have taxed the energies of any man Yet dS tL ^r'.'°™?/'^ .^^ ^^''' '^'''^'''' ^^ ^^« ^We, in addition to ed^ r.!: f7b A^ *^ *^r ^ ^^^'""^ P^^^*^ i" t^e public and miasioftary busi n.ss of the Church. It was no wonder that the pressure of S kbour tried his strength to the utmost, or that in spi^of his ratellZ &r' ^^.T^in^aUy suffered from ailments whLh the woXsee^^ only his unfailing geniality, could not have suspected. Ill rCess ble humour and self-forgetful ness concealed from the eyfs of strTnlrs the^burthen he was often bearing, alike of mental anxie'^ and of bXy From his Journal :— this £;„'; ofmyirbl' Thf ™'™'f"' ""<"'"« ^"'^i'^"'^ ha* more leamed man, had I kboiued to make every sermon the best r>n^^ihU -what could I have done by the biessiuo- of God on aU? R^.t it.^ v £i'dterhjn mv ti'mo T\« i i ^^^"^'^"o "^ ^^"ti on ail { JBut i have been «i^?S.^f • Tiiere has been a want of concentrated effort ; a thou sknd httle tilings connected with everything have scattered mv strentfh T ll^^Z^^'T'' ''''''''''' ^^^ ^^'^^ all p.ocrasthfatint%^ S^^^^ 8hSh:veTe:^ir%r t^^ ^" the hour^he work wh n?-^! +ir !i ! /^^- ^^'^''^ '^ ^'^ ^'''^'^ the want of which I have felt more than that of proposing a worthy end, whether of study or somrplan of Christian benevolence, and working wisely and doaned y ZZ it Z IlZin i""^ *«°/rf «"t ^\d eager lo grasp the en7iS Tvivid^t t ahse in my mmd, but cannot bear to attain bv a Inr,. fa,..„, • ntt-ntion - the dry, i.rosaic details which, by the wise decree" of^rnrf^Irf *itt.ntion tu Hi 220 ilf J^m OF NOBUAN MACLEOD. From his Journal .•- "Sunday, Sept 5, 1852 —V" at t pw-ramme:-^ ^^- ' """^ ^ P^'^i^^se for this winter is th* f.n • " i. Bise as np • following , , "/.Keep tt/S^,f r*i''.tr^'° -mo„s. ' ^'™^^^- '- 'i" Tuesday, ^^1^'^' '^'.""^ ^' ^'^<^>^^ J fcm 2 til \° """."S »"" me this work rThvT'' '^1' ^'"^* ^^ ^hy saint Buf^/^ "f ^^^-ke this riches of Xlf -r P'"«^i^'«ioe, and called moV. ^^'^^^ ^tohasttriven approve, berauseTir^T' ""^^ '" *« ^"t^ that TW n "?'* ^^ Christ as " Oct mil M «"r "f 'I W°^«'l of b; jj f^ ^'^S''^ '^ «a^th will " A deeper s,^-".?;' ", "^J*^?« ^^^ prayer- "^ '''"'• ^^^^ ^ne, Lord ! S Sj ^'r '™-"«"^.tnt t^-,*" ■?[ {-."» ' Help „,e .o ..,.,,, thing for G d • T^ n'^'^'"^"' >^«<^ ^ warned to s ' "m ",^'^'' r'--^^<^'"ng but we shSlt r!ii« !;t'"-^i' '"' ^^"1. i::" i^CJ •;;:!":!^-^'-:^t is ir I ,■ if 1851—1856. 221 Sorr-WW^ fr ^*^fVf ' ^^1 ""^ ^' "'^^^^^^ ^^'^''''^ I ^"^ "«* ashamed ''Sunday morninff, Oct 12th, six o'clock. -A lovely, peaceful mornW the l^^mlnlTZ ' ''"'"'P' '^'" ^"' P"-^' ^^^^ ^*^ ^"^"^ ^--' "Glorious day! the only day on earth the least like heaven. It is th« day of peace which follows the day of battle and victovv. 'And all this mighty heaxt is lying still/ the forge silent, the cotton-mill' asleep, the steam! ers moored, the carts and waggons gone to the warehouse, the shops closed man and beast enjoying rest, and all men invited to seek rest in Godi How solemn the thought of the millions who will this day think of God and pray to God, and gaze upon eternal things ; on sea and land, in church and I'n PvLrRrf- Tt ? T'^-u^ T8^''^'^'^«»^«! How many thousands n Great Britain and Ireland will do this! Clergy praying and preachin- to millions. This never >vas the device of either maL or dtvil. If it was the ' device of the Church,' she is indeed of God. " May the Lord anoint me this day with His Spirit' "Saturday, 18^/t.— Some things I see I must correct. (1) I must be care ful of pence as I find I am hideously extravagant with pounds I ord helo no'tllw Stf but? ^^^^^ff--^ "P ^-S--t«. -d'who in natiulS nothing be lost, but turns all to some account, will ) elp me. (2) To have a fixed time or devotion at night. ' Sin .hall not hav. 'lominion over you! tor ye are not under law, but under grace.' ^ ' J7^'\^f\''^ x^'^'"''^ ''"''*'^^ ^""^ '^^'''"■'^' '^"^ «'^y your whole spirit, and Sst f":^! f . "^'^Tl' ''^V't'' "^^*° '^'' ^««""« «f th« Lord Jesu Chiist. Faithful IS He who cdioth you, who also will do this!' huru^ay, Oct. im, 7 A.M.-(First day that I am late.) The closer we hve with God, and the more our spiritual li.,. in Him is manifested totle m^iJo r 1 • ' "^^^'/l^^^.^^'"-'' I *'-^k, for ourselves. When the inner W„n r r ;.'''°-'^'' '^ '^ f^J ^^^ ^^^^^ '"^ "■^^•^•«' ^^^ *« ^^^ome cant, end !^^ 1^; '! ^ir^'l '''''T^'< ^^^ this is great destruction. Oh my God enable me to thwart and utterly mortify my cursed vanity and nride ll^ZJr IT'I'' ;' 't ''' "^'^^""'^ iu this'^Bonse, notTs^ak Zt; nearest of good de«" "'"y'^«t die ; tl S dlv -i t^ ^ r:*" ''"^ ^'^ ^'^^' *'»*• J<"«"« I'i'l'^ th.«(, adieu fo; en ernioT' h of 1 ""'T, ^^f" '^^"*^' T^' *''>^ "^•'* '•'--'•^' W'"<> •""'•!. v >'• ul :=;j bS,^;;:^ jJinJ-^!;,^^^-;!- j->«-- ^^--Le, ana " But why art thou not afraid of ;. turned up by some wave on the surface, never TinTdeennJr'i high, never at rest, injures terribly my moraT blrng ' My\raTn beeref like a bee-hive, so that when I begin to read and pfay, my thoughts sM« off to chape s or texts, or some scheme or sermon.VhUe I uSv dp.nk« ir^ickentr ''^^ ''' *^ '' ^ ''' ^' -If-examWatio^'of aar " It requires omnipotence to make me what I wish to be-simple nnself ish, and zealous with nothing to keep the fire always burnSS kud tt« heart joyous, and the limbs strong, save the love of Jesus cS" To Mrs. MACLEOD :— »wi, X . "London, May, 1853. of thT « V, f P'°"' , T <5'"'^«*^^" congi-egation I must have had w'th so many of the aristocracy ! I did not preach any one of the more elaboim^^ mons I had with me, but one I had nevei- writtPn R„7 T ^^'^'^'^'? ^^^; it waa best suited f„; the audience." I ra7;;trcomtA inTeSiZt ^cause I felt a .mcere desire to do good? wUch is alwa;^ K^^ From his Journal : — self Sroliltrlf^ ^^^^' '^«*^«'^-I have taken this Sabbath to my- Soytg't ^ " *"" ^'""' '"^^P* °"^ ^^ ^-^«- I need rest, and iZ "After my delightful congi-egational meeting in Mav T wpnt fn T^,, i J^^e to pL °" °""' ""'^"°'"' '"'* "'» »'»' -"' "/""tier tio7ti>e:;rtls,'f ,11" .'i.t; dT r ^ittvTTr^ "' n killed bv nebblptj P ,,1.1 «r^ i • • I .,, , ^ "^ Goliaths, and are ...» frSi.Ft;«xs."."SJ.i';»5-ste- ^li^'l 1! i II' 1" 226 L/FB OF NORMAN MACLEOD. rr aii\T-r? *"''' life-"better,'- he used to say, "they should hear all about it from me than from the devil;"-and he was overoved by now reeeivmg a letter which showed he had acted wisely. "I send without hesitation his letter to myself. I cannot express to you tow gratified and thankful it has made me. In so teaching himf I followed my own convictions, and carried out a theory of education which I had lon^ Sir"" t jli!«fly"Pon God's teaching in the BiWe-in the Pentateuch S 1^/ ^^^^Vi.^" '*' ^'*""' ^^ ""°^^' ^""^ ^^^^1 ^^rnings, was to be read each year to the young as well as to the old. The evidence afforded by his letter of the success in his case of such a mode of instruction is most encouraging. "*"o« To Mrs. Dennistoun : — "Did no shadows, or shades, or shades of shadows, such as seldom dim your fair spirit, pass over it, cast from the actual substance of my careless- Znn of ''"fT ^ ^"",^ ^^^ J^^ ^^y'^ «^*^^ ^^^ 1-g tl^e^«ole com. panion of my study, alone knows the sorrowing and repentings I have had anent unanswered letters ! He has heard my groans, witnessed my tossint, eye and loving wag from that eloquent and soothing tail, he had qui^eted me into better humour with myself At present having no Skye, but only Sletrespect ^"^ """^ °^ ^'""'°"' """"^ ^'^^""'^ ^^ myself, and have J^Oct St-c^.-How shall I express my gratitude to God? This afternoon my boy was born. I have felt crushed by the weight of God's mercy. To ir.r^'ir ' Tf,' ^""^ 'I *^'' ^"Shest form of the human creation, is a gieat hlling-up of the soul's cravings. What an object of love! The moment I heard of his birth I solemnly dedicated him to the Lord, and so did we both in prayer when we first met . We cannot wish him to be any- thing grander m the universe of God than a Christian. This we seek fir^, and lor this we shal abour and pray. Whatever else may befall him, this we seek as the one thing needful for him, whether that is to be attained by sickness or health, by poverty or wealth. I pray that whatever else happens, should God so will that the whole family are to reach the shore on floating pieces of the wreck of a broken house, yet let us all meet there, and be for ever with the Lord ! ' f^'p^'wJ^'l^r^''.?''" ^^\^^ ^««ig" o"*- children, and dedicate them to God the Father through Jesus the Son, and in the Holy Ghost the banctifier, one God, our God, and our fathers' God. Amen!" . The Education question was at this time exciting keen discnssioi. in bcothmd, and when the proposed measure of Lord Moncrieff was before Parliament, its merits were debated by tlie Presbytery of Glas- gow. Norman Macleod was one of the speakers ; and, 'wliile he defended the parish schools, and could see no practical benefit likely to accrue to t^ie nation by the severance of the link which united them t« tho Church, he argued strongly in favour of the Church herself 1851-1856. 227 attempting to find a basis on which the three great Presbyterian bodies in the country might co-operate for the furtherance of education He wished the privileges of an Establishment to be recognised— " . ... as a holy trust to be used for the good of the country at rSll"; . value solely as employed for this the true end of her existence m the State So ar from grudging to share with other bodies our peculiar Idea of Christianity, that our personal and social blessings are given us not for selfish enjoyment, but to be shared as far as possible with others." Under whatever form of management the public schools mi^ht be placed, he earnestly desired a higher and more practical system'of in- struction. ± J xu. " We want for instance, a higher class of industrial schools, in our large towns especially, for our females, where, in addition to the ordinary branches of learning, they must also receive instruction in shaping and making clothes, in washing and dressing them, and in cooking too, so as to fit them to become cleanly, thoroughly intelligent wives, and in every respect helps- meet for an artisan, who could make his home more attractive to him than the whiskey-shop, and be themselves more companionable than its fre quenters We require a wider education for our artisans themselves, so as to tram them up to such fixed ideas and habits as may fit them to meet the actual temptations to which they are exposed, to perform their duties as workmen, parents, citizens ; and so as to enlarge, also, the field of their en- ' joyment as human beings possessed of various tastes which are capable of being cultivated and made the sources of refined pleasure. To accom,)]ish tLfnf V v"", ""ir "'"^"''"i ^ ^^^'''' '*y^^ "^ t^'-^^'^'^^-' i"^bued mth lofty Ideas of his high calling, as the man who contributes so much to mould the character of the nation and to give a complexion to coming generations-a man in short, with somewhat of the spirit of Arnold. I do think that a careful training of our people-to enable them to discharge their individual duties, such as steady labour, preservation of health, sobriety, kindness prtideijce, chastity ; their domestic duties as parents ; iheir duties as men ^ bers ot society, in courteous and truthful dealings, fulfilment of encage. wa!l%f.1rr T.^'^ ^?^^ independence as workmen; their duties to- waids the State, whe her with reference to their rulers or the administra- tors of law, along with information on the history and government of U eh- country, and such like-that upon such points as these^he\r 11 has been greatly neglected, and requires to be extensively improved an 1 base^l upon and saturated with Christian principle. I thiifk weTe someth n" t! the Secularists in directing our attention to details in the educa ioi^re^ quired for common he; while they ought to be grateful to us foi mbuing From his Journal : — 1 . , ^._^ |-.;^,.y ij^^^ ^ ^ , J J memoir Tha want ot incident is my difliculty. I must always remomlerXse read!'; in i: 1 .i iBJ! 1 !.i- " U i it 1 r ' # 228 ZIFU OF NORMAN MACLEOD. i f . ,.'1 it who never Jieai-d of Lis name. I iiave always felt an assurance tlial Jesi,s loved John too «11 to permit me to misinterpret that eWtor which SrtoTl^fa.'^'' °™ «^'*' -" -"«" -- 8"enmel1S;ide^e ''May 7th.— -I go to-morrow to London, to preach for the Tnnrl<.n woTn ^°^\^^y' A'^-"^'^! ^" '^^^^ ^«--^d thus to lip on the w^^S He attended he General Assembly of 1854, and took a prominent ?.'i^ of Tf^ '^ f' ^'^'^'i''■ ^'' '^"^ Assembly-and thfs nTay be said of all those of. which he was in after years a member-his ad! dresses on the Missionary Eeports gave a character of their own to the whole proceedings. The House was filled to oveiflowing when he^^s expected to speak; and his appeals, burning with cou?age, and zeal and hopefulness, not only imparted new life to the Assenib y but in creased the influence of the Church in the country ' '"^' ^""^ "'" ..? tlie Assembly of 1854 he first took a decided stand against the party which had ruled the pohcy of the Church for several years and which had served m no small measure to alienate from he/the svm pathy of the nation by the persistency with which it opposed every public measure, llo^yever reasonable, that seemed to threaten any of her ancient prerogatives. The recent repeal of the Tests which had hitlierto been imposed on the professors of the Scotch Universities-- u^ho on admission to office, were required to sign the Confession of Faith, and subscribe the formula of the Church of Scotland-was ow hotly discussed in the Assembly. The wiser leaders, while reo-ret^iZ the sweeping nature of the change, were prepared « to accept'th^in'! evitable and made a stand against the section of extreme Conserva- tives, who not only wished to protest anew, but even proposed to form a new University m connection with the Church. Norman Macleod had too much common sense not to perceive the folly of resisting changes which the altered condition of the country rendered necessai? and gave expression to his views in a manner which startled both sides of the House, and which rang through tlie country as the token of an unexpectedly liberal spirit rising in the Church. H.rt ^^""^ -ui ^""^ ^l? '•^''^ ^^'°"* expediency, about the tremendous danger of vacillation, and the immense importance of what was called stand Hig by their prniciples. It appeared to him that one of the greatest mistakes made by the Church of Scotland was constantly elevating^ In' which were out-and-out mattei-s of expediency, and maintaining that thoy ThTJ?"TV*';r'''^''-, There were certain things that could newer change The eternal truth revealecl by the living God was, from generation to generl ation, without change. But there were things that wore Hexible, and ought * His sermon on this occasion made a iirofound imDressinn ti,,! fiio n;.. <■ i. 1851—1856. 229 to be so; and the gi-eat error of the Church of Scotland had ever been the assuming of an attitude which was said to be one of principle, and iniury after injury had been done to the Church, not because she would not sacri- Hce her principles, but because she would not modify her institutions to suit the times. Instead of doing this, she had resisted every change, and tliis had been the source of almost all the misfortunes which had ever befallen her. For one evil that could be pointed out arising from a wise and iudici ous yielding to the times, he would point out scores of instances, down to IMS from which she had suffered from stubbornly standing on pin-points called iDi-inciples. ' "... It was proposed to go to the country for money to build a new College. He objected to that out-and-out. He objected to the national Church throwing herself loose from the national Universities, and sinking down to the position of a mere sect, and handing over the Universities to other parties. He warned theai that if there issued from this House opin- ions which obtained no sympathy in the country, instead of gaining a hold on the affections of the ]ieople, they vould come to have no more influence on the nation than the weather-cock on the top of the steeple affected the people passing in the street. Let them try to educate the country up to their principles before they proposed to them things in which the country had no sympathy. "^ " . . . He thought it only fair to say that he did not know of a single measure that had been passed by the Legislature which he would wish to see reversed --neither the Emancipation Bill, nor the Reform Bill, nor the Corn-law Bill, nor the University Tests Bill, nor any other Bill He was one of those, moreover, who believed that the Legislature had a perfect right so modify such institutions as the Universities to meet the wants of the age. He was one of those who believed it was a fair and a right thing that men who did not belong to the Church of Scotland, but who, like her, held Protestant principles, should be permitted to teach in these lay chairs. He therefore wanted a Test, certainly, and so far he differed from fhe la e Act; but he did not want such a Test as was desired by his fathers and brethren who formed the majority of the Church • nay perhaps, ne oiight to confess that he was so very heterodox, that he should nr ^- .started, or thought the wovld was coming to an end, even if it had ^^e. to place a Jesuit in a Medical Chair, and on this simple grou. f I'ls limb were to be operated on, he should prefer a skilful Jesuit , xkilful Protestant. He would rather have a man to do it well. wl,. ..patlnsed with the Council of Trent, than a man to do it ill who believed in the Westminster Confession; and he rather thought the great majority of the House would, in such a situation, act on the same ST'^i ; .1 'iM """ '''T'' "^^'y '"^ "^^'^ should not teach others to do ri voT 't.l -^ ; \ n '"'"n *'^«"^««1^««- But at the same time, he did t Iv nff r^ "^^^ ^'' '^/^T^ °^""°'"" '^"^'^'^"^'^ ^^'^^ ^«'T tar from speaking lightly of the differences which separated them from Home." To the Rev. Thomas Gordo\, Newbattle :— •' Woodlands Terrace, '. . . . Act of security ! It might as well secure horse-power versw* steam to all gonerations, as secure anything which cannot be secured on its II; ;• I' i : ili il Ill- h ;( ; III i n ' ' I 230 ZIFU OF NORMAN MACLEOD. own looting— t.e., because it is worth securing. The only acts which have any security for resisting modern changes are the Acts of the Apostles— and they will defy either Strauss or Wiseman." To Rev. A. Clekk, LL.D. :— " June, 1854, "The General Assembly was a Dead Sea of Common-places— flat, stale, and unprofitable. Not one flash of any idea or sentiment to rouse a noble passion m the soul. The Tests were of course carried by a large majority. I think the Church is a poor affair at present, but has got a calling for the good of this land and of Christendom, which she alone can execute if she would "! To his Mother, on his birthday :— " June, 1854. " Well, dear, it was a noble Assembly, and God enabled me to do what I have every reason to believe was a needful and good work in it. I sought His aid, and He gave it to me. I was greatly solemnized, I assure you. The reports give you a poor idea of what I said. Each speech was about forty minutes, and nothing could exceed the cordial manner in which it was received. " Forty-three years since, I lay on your knee, the object of a love that, as 1 have often said, is liker the love of God than any other, and which, in your case, dearest, has been as deep, constant, and unwearied as ever existed in any human bosom. I am not one of those who sigh for the past and fear the future. My motto is not ' backwards,' but 'forwards,'— on and on, for ever ! I wish no year recalled, unless I had more grace with it to make it better and to improve it more for God's glory. " ' One generation cometh, and another goeth.' But I cannot wish more for my boy on earth than that he should at forty-three have parents spared to him to be such a source of happiness to him as mine are to me. God bless you both for all you have been and are." From his Journal : — " June ^rd.—l this day enter my forty-third year. I feel how much of my life is passed, and slowly but surely the force that is in me to do Christ's work will begin to decline. " Oh, my God, I have not hid my daily shortcomings from Thee. Thou hast forgiven me in Christ. My Father, never let me be without the in- dwelling of Thy Spirit for an hour, for it would be an hour of dreadful horror. Let my life be every day more unconscious of mv own presence and more conscious of Thine. Make me an instrument iii Thy hands for advancing Tl. v kingdom, reviving the Church of Scotland, and for uniting all Christians in this land. '' One man, Lord, lifts up his voice and praises Thee that he has been born, because he knows Thee and Jesus Christ Whom Thou hast sent, and knows that, while no man on earth deserves it, this is eternal life ! ''July 23, 1854.— With the exception of the preface, the Life is finished and printed. Glory to God ! " Whof: I went lo see John, I put the question, ' What shall be the end thereof f How mucli has been seen of the end already ! fi 1851—1856. 231 " It was a strange feeling, to end a work which had given me his com- panionship for so long a time. It seemed like a second death ! "Thank God I have been enabled to write a biography without one word of untruth or exaggeration in it, as far as I know. It may not say enough, or go far enough, but all it says is true ; as far as it goes, it is true. " Does my dear friend know this is done? I believe he does, and thut as far as it is true, and tends to glorify his Master in whose presence he is, and who is his all in all, so far he rejoices in it, so I add to his joy. What a delightful thought ! For surely if he knows that his life has not been so unfinished as it seemed to have been, that he is by these memorials enabled to advance that kingdom much more than he could have done had he been spared to labour as a minister, surely this will fill him with deeper love to Jesus, and a profounder admiration of His love and wisdom, and so increase his own joy. " What an infant in spiritual growth am I to him ! But let his bi-ight and beautifxil example not cast me down, but lift me up and stimulate me to labour more for Christ, and not to be slothful, but through faith and patience to follow him, even as he followed his Lord. " . . . , How strange that as yet my chUd knows not God ! I have resolved that she shall not hear His name till she has language to apprehend what I mean, and that no one shall speak of God to her till I do so. This is a moment in her life which 1 claim as my own. I shall have the blessed- ness of first telling her of Him who I Liust (Oh, my Father, for Christ's sake let it be — oh, let it !) shall be her all in all for ever after. For a time I must be to her as God : His shadow, His representative and her father on earth shall lead her to Thee, her Father and mine. " Another system than this I know is generally pursued, and much is thought to be gained by cramming a child with holy words before it can hardly lisp them. I heard last week of 's boy saying to some one, * I don't like God, for He sends rain.' This was quite natural, but what is gained by such instruction ?" » } .! To the late Mrs. Macredie, Adamton : — " My dear Madam, — " I make it a rule never to pen a letter except upon great occasions, or to remarkable persons. The last I wrote was on the great occasion of a Free Church minister bowing to an Erastian ; and one also to my wife, when she did implicitly what I commanded her. " I take up my pen once more. I need not say the dignity of the person to whom I write is a sufficient proof that I do not break through my rule. But the occasion is still moie remarkable. What is it 1 What has happen- ed in the political, literary, or religious world 1 Is Sebastopol taken ? or is the Irish Society defunct 1 Has the Pope asked Miss in marriage 1 Is the Czar to be the Commissioner of next Assembly ] Is Omer Pasha to be member for Ayrshire ] Any or all of those suppositions would be nothing to the news I have to tell you. I assure you, nothing ! Now, I would tell you at once, but I don't want to give you a shock ; for I was told to be cautious, and not to alarm you, but to break the intelligence quietly to yon, and to take you, as it were, round the neck and breathe th« thing in your illf 232 ZIFH OF NORMAN MACLEOD. Mv ^.1 7' '^^'^°"? ^« .iappy_Oh ! you see it, do you 1 ' Another son f My dear lady, you shock me ! What I wish to say to vout this for T am sorry that I am in a hurry, and cannot possibly ^fte so fun7ls I would wish and therefore must be much more abrupt than is m-oner fn, n J m your delicate health (though I find that such persons alwfX^^^^^^ immense age) and so I must just tell you at once that-hush now qtUetly and don t get agitated. Believe me, you wUl survive it-softir^nd 8^ v Mnnir' ^ iT^*'^' ^^f- I^^^^i«t«"^' ^-emains with us from May^Ul Monday, and I promised to write to you. That's aU." ^ To Thomas Constable, Esq. :— ,,T, , " July mil, \S5^ 1 have always addressed you more as the friend of John Mackintosh than as the publisher of the memorials of his life. As sucl^orwUl be ^ ^:r= ^^ %z d -:t ^^^ rti B been possible for me to have said less, and to have permitted Tihn fo sav Z'",'/"^ ^rr' '^""'^ ^''y "^^ -"^ f^" *« discover^S al I harwid t en the de ails of a true story of one of the truest men that ever JessTd he ITmilhtv roFrT'-- ^r "^^^'^? ^ ^^*"™ ^y -««^ Wty Snks to Almighty God for havmg honoured me so far as to have permitted tliesP hePh r''i*%T'*^'^^r°^^"^^«f my beloved friend^ tt Jo^ Tf the Church and of the world. Many will think the work a small one in thTnT "\-T7- ""'^' r^ ^T' ''''^'''•'' ^"t l-'^d I done lothL mo ^ than accomplish this one alone, I should feel that I had not been born^ vain and that it was worth living for. It has been begun, carrSd on an^ « You know that I refuse all fee and reward for this book, in the shape of money. Love is its o^vn reward, but I hope to receive -^n h^imenseTe turn for my li t e labour in hearing from time' to time that tL cWcter of ^/mt; tThVgioiroi- atd -^ '''--' "''' ^^-^' -^ ^^^ --p^« ^o"-1 From his Journal : .,/'•/"? T*'''-"-^,''.'''*'''^ ^'''^'^^' ^'^^^ "^ont'^' '^nd I feel that I have cot a wh^oi the same kind of air John breathed there. How stran^eT ^?,te alter the anniversary of our marria'^e We siw inn nU y, .„ i ^^'^^ still alive and ..11 aL holy; and I hehl ^Imttint^n^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^S where john used to hold his, at Burnside. ^ S "i ^ne oia place "It was altogether delightful. And then Loch Shiel John .Sli-ii.- "aise". "^'' '"' ''^ ^'^""""^^^ '' ^^^^"-"i^ *««-*^-" The Loiii'ir !\ 1851—1856. 235 When he undertook the congenial task of writing the life of his dear friend, he determined that it should be wholly a labour of love, and with the hearty consent of his mother-in-law, Mrs. Mackintosh' he resolved to devote whatever profit might accrue from the sale of the Memoir to the Foreign Mission of the Free Church. Mackintosh had been a Free Church student, and the book was virtually his, and thus not only under a sense of the propriety of the act, but delighted at the opportunity of giving expression to those feelings of good-will which he entertained for the missionary labour of all Churches, and especially of that Church which, in spite of recent controversies and separations, was yet nearest his own in doctrine and government, he forwarded with sincere pleasure £200 to her Indian Missions. The Free Church Assembly took the earliest opportunity of recording its thanks, which were embodied in the following minute : " In acknowledging receipt from the biographer and representatives of the late John Mackintosh of £200— the entire profit derived from the sale of his Memoir— the Assembly desires to record its deep and grateful sense of the faithful and graceful manner in which the Memoir has been written, of the loss which this Church has sustained in his premature removal, and of the considerate regard to his memory which has prompted this generous donation, and they instruct their Convener to communicate the same to Mrs. Mackintosh and the Rev. Norman Macleod."* be To Mrs. Macleod : — " KiRKALDT, Oct. 2, 1854 " Kiss my boy for me on his birth-day, and pray with me for him, that whatevvir else he is he may be a child of God. " Plea.ie— for there is a domestic propriety which is a gentile court to re- ligion—have my father, or George, or both, to dinner, and drink my boy's health in a good bottle of champagne, with all the honours. " Glorious news this of Sebastopol ! A gi-eat opening for the gospel." To Mrs. Macleod : — " Crathie, Oct., 1854. " This has been a heavenly day of beauty— the sky almost cloudless ; the stones on the hill side so distinct that they might be counted , the Dee swinging past with its deep-toned murmur. " I preached without a notice the same sermon I preached at Morven jf • In forwarding this extract of minutes, the Convener, the late Dr. Tweedie kindly expressed his own sense of tlie catholicity of spirit which had dictated the act •—"It sujiphes m some measure a presage of what will take place when external barriers shall be removed, and when all who love the Lord Jesus shall be verily one in spirit and in truth.' ^ t It is interesting to compare with this the touching notice of the service recorded bv Her Majesty : — •' •' October 29, 1854. " We went to kirk as usual at twelve o'clock. The service was performed by the Kev. JNonnan Macleod, of Glasgow, son of Dr. Macleod, and anything finer I never heard, llie sejmon, entirely extempore, was quite admirable, so simple, and yet so 234 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 5r gloiy ^ ^ ^ **^^"*' Siven me m love, may be for His •?Vo»i his Journal :— -as t'TS;;;' 'f rSSt,"" "tf T *" ""'"'! 1 °™""'' -hen I church aftPr ,-/U,] , ^^'^^ , ^^ P; ^ ^i^d announced the opening of mv seemed to me Lt ' du't/ n'^' 'V"" """^'" '^ ^"^ repLed^andl AndersonwtioTto L^r^^^^^^ *« --Pt of Mr. fore, was not sou very often, peH,„/, x:rtir\;u;E :„'i'j,:;;'a\"t s '"7^^ human spa- ts and had done g<„d. ,tCfZ M^trxl'sS- o'"ttS'j' 1851—1856. 235 cross of self-denial, instead of self-gratification, illustrated by the young man who, with all that was so promising, would not peril his happiness by seek- ing it with Christ in God. " I pieached with intense comfort, and by God's help felt how sublime a thing it was to be His ambassador. I felt very acutely how foi our sakea the Queen and the Prince were placed in so trying a position, and was pro- foundly grateful for the way in which they had governed us ; and so it wrs that I was able to look back from the future, and to speak as I shall wish I had done. It would be most ungratefid in me not to record this singular mercy of God to me ; for I do know, and rejoice to record for the strength- ening of my faith in prayer, that He did it. Thus I enjoyed gi-eat peace. " In the evening, after daundering in a green field with a path through it which led to the high road, and while sitting on a block of granite, full of quiet thoughts, mentally reposing in the midst of the beautiful scenery, I was I'oused from my reverie by some one asking me if I was the clergy m«n who had preached that day. I was soon in the presence of the Queen and Prince; when her Majesty came forwfird and said with a sweet, kind, ai>d smiling face, ' We wish to thank you for your sermon.' She then aaked me how my father* was — what was the name of my parish, ikc. ; and so, after bowing and smiling, they both continued their quiet evening walk alone. And thus God blessed me, and I thanked His name. I posted home by Glenshec — not well — and was in bed all tiie week. So ends my story, I read its commencement and ending to lemiud me how God is always faithful. ' O ye of little faith, wherefore did you doubt 1 ' " To the Rev. Mr. \V.v'Mon, Chaplain in the Crimea: — " God bless and prosper you in your work. I almost envy you, danger- ous though it be. I have such immense admiration of those glorious fellows that I would rejoice to bo with them. It is right and becoming, too, that those who are soldiers only of Christ shoidd share their danger, so as to helj) them to share with us the life which is eternal. We .should not shrink at such a time, if God calls us to this work. No doubt you have made up your mind to die, and this is the ti'uo way of being bi-ave and of finding perfect peace." From, his Journal : — ^^ January 1, IS.^f), 7 a.m. — In the name of God the Father, Son, and Spirit, my (Jod, I begin the year ! I am Thine by creation and rodomption, and by choice on my part; I am Thine for ever, and 1 desire to consecrate every power and faculty of body and soul to Thy service — knowing Thee, the ever-blossed One, whose si-ivioo is unutt> ralde joy. To know Tliee truly in any degree i« joy uns[)eakablo, and lull of glory. Amen ! " Tho year 'r)5 promises to bo a very solemn one. What battles and vii'torie.s, defeats and siiflei-ings ! What brave and illustrious men, (iftor- wards to be the Nelsons and Wellinglons of IJritain, or the Napoleons of France — are now in embryo! That civilisation, liberty, religion, peace will triumph, is of course as certain as that Jesus Christ reigns ! H« does reigli -VvIku, ;i runirrc ui' joy ! • Hifi father hail nivachwl before Her MHJcsty and tlie Prince Consort at Bluir Athol on tho ocuuaion of their visit to Hcofliuid. I 236 'IM l-IFB OF mSMAN UAOLBOD. "^ tf P°"*- ?»* of the^ nvaelstrom '^ , r lo'r.'*'^ "'•■'^* ^''-^'"age ti^^^^^^^ke a huge ml liwLTJl'^]' n^ ';r^ '^^-' ^^ ^-r faith in J.. ' '"""''^ 2^' ^«^^- possible- and tloefo"''"^- '" *^^^i^' «<> ^oAg '^^7 ''V'"T^^ could believe snrl. . i i "^^'"^^ *'""■'? '"•ound T wn, . ' ''*''' ''^'^ «"«- ^^om his JooKx., .__ '"^ ^°'' ^ "^« «ky. " " March 2)1(1 Tl ' • i Petersburg. How f'l' '"^ ^"'"'''' ^^ ^''^ 'lenth of thn n 5^« Mra. Af ActKoo .— " I JiaU a jolly sleep Inside (j ^i . , " ^"''"'"'* ^% 22, issg. ' -'--•■'i-(Iy dreamt ho VM, Hi., 1851—1356. 237 land terrier worrying another, from the barks which he gave in hia sleep. The snores of M were quite orthodox. Thoy were rather too barefaced a copy of those of his congregation. I never closed an eye, of course ! Poor fellow ! But I meditated so profitably that I counted only two towns on the way — Newcastle and York." To the Sam " London. " Dined at ■ 's. There was a party of eight or nine. Most of them EnglisI arsons, with the usual amount of thoroughly correct manners, large arts, middling heads, and knowing nothing of Scotland except as a pla( in the Islands from which gi-ouse come. But really ' very nice — you know.' " t: To the Same : — "Antwerp, May 4, 11 p. m. " Enjoyed Bruges, and reached Ghent at 2. (0, those glorious chimes of the old cathedral !) Saw the fine Catliedral and Van Eyck's delightful pic- ture. O, what tiuth ! what a love of nature ! what a taste for beauty had the Meinli .;s and Van Eycks ! Some of the peeps through windows by tlie fonuer and his minute painting of flowers and trees so delicious ! In Poussin's famous painting of * Christ in the midst of the Doctors,' such a head of Charles V. is introduced, and of the Duke of Alva !" To the Same :— "The Hague, Tuesday Morning. "I have seen great paintings, but no great men. '• I liave received much, very nuidi kindness from the Van Loons and others, and I hope to meet as mucli more at Leyden and Amsterdam. " The royal family wore all in church, hearing dear Boucher, on Sab})ath. The King was lioard saying to his sister, when ho went out, ' How sublime ! I never heard anything like it.' ' Nor I,' replied the sister, * but I have no words to utter what I feel' It was indeed a noble discourse." From, his Journal : — "June ?>rd, 1855. — I am forty-four. I preached on the liirth of a child being a legitimate cause of joy.* '• Glory to God that I have been born ! I praise Him and bless Him for the gift of existence in a world in wliich His own Son has been born a Saviour, a Brother, and in which lie rules. I i)raiso Him, I bless Him ibr such a gift, so worthy of Himself. " Oh, miiy I realize His purpose more and more by being more and more J I is own child in sini|)li(uty, luiinility, faith, love, and undiviiletl obedience ! Intense life in Christ is inUjnso joy. " I begin this week to visit my congregation once more. T feel that \m)v- Bonal ac(puiintance and ]>rivHte frientlsliip must be the foundation of public good. My schools are uH paid for. 1 ilesire to dedicate my poweiu with more intense devotion to God. • Published in Uood Word$ for 1873. 238 ill LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. tCnZ: oTavf' lt4'iste7„f ^ ^'' -^"*-"' ^- tho «-t time, til I first had this hono;., bT hi L" sTvaTharr ' -l^ '^^ ^^ ^^^ - child on my knee (in Bothwell iC'Ilell^^ f ^TVV' "° ^ *°«k the iions as to who made her anreVrvThir Tn^ 7 ^1'^. ^''' '"""'''^^ ^^^^ indescribably strange and blL'orto n v^v^ !?'''"^' '^°'*-' ^^'<^^ cease forever ! My prayer rnvdailvin,! ^'\', *^^' '°""*^ ' It" cannot children may be holy^rom^S "nL^^^^^^^ "^"* '^'' '^"^^ ^» ^J <^ear indeed, can only be through the Sn it Zit ."f f'7 "^ Cl^-i^tians. Tbis, they sliouhl g..ow up at any tte Cn. G^d /r f f, '' T ""'''''''y **"^* their youth, and be afterwards conveS ? Cod ^'l > t "' ^^^"« ^^ liope IS that they sliall grow up in tlfe nur nrp nf i t'"^ I ^^^ l^^''^^'^^' ^^^ dear children from thoi? infancy Whv ' oM w' ^'"'^' ^^'^ ^^ «^« ^^« earthly father ? Oh, beloveS Lviour take tl '""i ^' '"^" "^ "^^^' ^^^^^^ arms and bless them'and make tC th ne - ^.7^ ""''^'^ '''''' *''^"« ^^^ tion the name of God, but a.s that of a Shir ^ ^^ "'''''• ""''" "^^"^- Lord I my hope is i.. Thee. Let me not be put to shame." To his ACK, M.. M.XW.., after the burial of W husband at Ca.p.e - •without hope,' but in the suTe and ce,? in L"' T °^ ""'' ^^^ *^^«»-« a-^ for them in Cln-ist. How poacefullv d . .n \?^ . ^. i:e«"rrection unto life his long and harassing jourry f 1fo,f on; tl "t ^'''\'^'''' ''1'°^' «^"ter mysterious influence "which the f r^l boll ^'IT ^'' *'''"'"' ^""^ *^^« mind can telJ what a life st^ggle t htd^- B^^^^^^^^^^ «-^^- tl^« everything; and I lieartily believe t nt e L ^ .'"^. e,ie? ''^:^'7r^Z^':^^''^'y^-^<^^^^^n^.^. Studv you ras^d ■ - •. 1851—1856. 241 atlier Eussia. Peace is joy as xar as the present suffering is concerned. But as tar as the interests ot man are concerned, and the position of our country 1 mourn the news. We have come out of this war lower in every respect ui the world's opinion than when we entered it. I fear, if the war ends that It will be merely to give time to Russia to prepare for another by be- coming herself stronger, and biding her time till the Western poweis are disunited The salvation of the world now will be pushing missions in the Last, and overturning all things from within, leave the without to come right in its own time." From his Journal : — , ?.f '^*; ^^~^ ^^^® ^^^ ^^^® "^ ^^16 severest fourteen days of mental and bodily fatigue— chiefly, if not vi^holly, the former— which I have had for yer^rs Last week, after a previous week of toil, there was Monday and iciesday writing and dictating, changing and reducing a letter in reply to a horrid one from — . The struggle-and it was, I am ashamed to say dreadful-was to wi-ite and feel as a Christian, when my flesh could have so written that it would have been to him as flaying alive." To his Sister Jane : — **Feh. 9 1856. " I have (as Jean used to say) been ' painfully exercised ' by this uniust attack from -_. My struggle, you understand, is between the tempta- tion to yield to anger and my conviction that it is the will of Christ that I should so love him as to consider the evil in him, and seek to deliver him from It. How horrible to be obliged to tight all, to feel the desire strong, to be unable to say, I love,' to feel the congeniality of revenge ! pride ' O vanity 1 How I pray not only to speak and write as a Christian, but oh' dearest, to feel truly as one ! ' ' •' As to John Campbell's book on the 'Atonement,' it is like himself dark but deep, and very true. I think it has led me captive. I shall read it again ; but it finds me, and fills up a huge void. I fear that no one has read it but myself. ^ ,,, "f ^- ^^Vi;~^^} ^}^l J ^'''^\ ^'^^ I^«^<^lon and preached for Herschell and tlie Sailors iriend Society, and then went to visit my dear friend .Airs Dennistoun at Tours. We had most delightful drives, visitin- Mettrav Plessy de Tours, and the old Bastille of Loaches. I attended S AssemS tor a day m May. They carried, by an immense majority, the India Educa tion measure, for which Dr. Bryce and I contended almost alone.'' Tills allusion to tht India Education measure refers to a discussion which had been agitating the Church for some time, as to the lawful' ness of accepting for mission schools the Government Grants in Aid while these grants were given equally to lieathen, or, at all events non- Christian, schools. The extreme "Evangelical" party conte. W against the Church condoning a measure wdiich they hmi?^^ oS never to have been passed by a Christian State. On the ofher W J^onnan Maclcod and Dr. Brycc held that it was impos'sibk L t e Government to take any narrower ground in deaUng wkh a count y I li; 1 242 LIFE OF NORMAN MjlCLEOD. Ifiirf '\ fim m Circumstanced like India. They insisted that it would be the height ot folly in the Church to refuse assistance from Government in the matter of secular instruction, as long as she was left free to add religious teaching; and they were persuaded that to separate the mission schools trom the educational system of India was simply to throw aAvay an opportunity for exercising a wide and wholesome influence. The vote of the Assembly endorsed their views, and thus inaugurated a revolu- tion m the policy of the India Mission of the Church. From his Jouenal. ''Glasgow, August, 1856.— The Evangelical Alliance met here. I made the iirst speech, bidding its ministers welcome. I had much happy com- munication with Sherman, William Monod, Krummacher and Kuntze from -Berim, and Herschell. "I preached, on the 24tli, to a great crowd, among others to Mr. Stanley who was mtroduced to me by John Sliairp.* In the evening we had a prayer meetmg for winding up the Scutari Mission, which I bless God to have begun, carried on, and ended. " October 3rd.— I am just starting for Balmoral. I believe I could not have travelled a week sooner, since I received the invitation the beginning ot September at Kirkaldy, when I could not turn in bed. I go in Christ's name. He who has given me this work will give me grace to do it. Blessed and most mercifid Lord, hear me, and deliver me from all vanity, pride, and selt-seekmg, and all the nervous fear which they occasion ! Give me only wr*itTpn^^fJiTK^' ^'**r ^''''™ ^^'- l^^^^^^y ^"''^ ^^^'^ ^t'-^^I^y) *o Principal Shairp, written after this visit, gives a graphic account of the impressions he tlien formed :ll o l^.^ ■ ■ r'*'"I''f ^' ^^8 a younger, thinner, sharper man than I had expected to see Z^ V .n i"^ gentleman-very interesting evidently, and refined in thought, experi- ence, and expression. But I thought him almost too spiritual, too ghostly ; the stars SS".^'^"".' •'" would vanish at the cock-crowin;;. A belutiful mind and spirit, but too much insphered in its own light to be of much use to me. ^n1 now for the other. If Campbell was too much of a ghost, Norman Macleod IS imdoubtedly a man of desh and blood. I first heard the service 'and sermon The wZr+r '"•''",• • ^^'^'^^Ptaco/nof wheat,'&c. To a fastidious taste itmight trem.nZ.fpffnr'f /'r^* in m inner and matter ; but considering the audience and the tremendous effort, I did not object to it. I thought it admirable, truly evangelical, alanced^at an lT*'"f 'r'^^Y moving in parts, fulf of illustrations critiLl difh\:ultie know the man in h: p/" ^Y ? r * ^f'f''''^ ^°^^ ^^^ '»«»'^«* ^^'^''"^- I" ^'^ort, I don't dn T kinl \ * ' ^^^'"r'i' °^ ^^'^^^'^^'^ ^^o could have preached such a sermon ; nor do I know such a man as I found him to be afterwards in converse, first in the vestry for a quarter of an hour, and afterwards for two hours here in the evening. Of course know'noTe"Jr° "^^''"'"*'^7'^i^'*'^^ r^ ^''^'•^•^**^'-' ^"* '^'^^ ^« what^he seem" I know no one who unites such thorough good sense, honesty, manly independence SwS}vT,tTh'\f""f ;/"'"".* ^"7^'y- '-^"^^ I'"^^-'^'- "f^-PI-aling to iie mass! Sr.n W ^*"* ^l"^^ ^'^ •' better where he is, would I have made him an English hLt£ml%:;;rLXVrm'e.'^'^^ *°^'^*'°^' "'"'' ^™ «"^^^^^^^ gratefuUoyoSfor of m vIk a'.V'l!v r ""* *''^ ^''■*^?r?^'''''^^"'^ *';« Covenanters, and he charmed the cockles Pus^Ji m ■ ^1^a,l rnr- P ^'" ^f" ^''^ ^''' J"^'^ '''' ^•"t''»'-«t "f Presbyterian excent th;f wW u''? .^r'"^*.^ ^P'"'^ i"^* *!'« «^ my audience. I was asked in the evening to dine at the Castle. The Prince spoke much to me. " May the Lord bless all this for good 1 It is my deepest and truest prayer, that all may tend to His glory." Extract from a private Xote-Book for 1856 : — " How to spend the morning hour from 6 to 7 a.m. A short prayer for the Spirit of God, that it may be wisely and profitably spent. Devotional reading— Baxter and Leighton. Short meditation and prayer on what is read, with reference to individual application. A psalm sung quietly. The Scriptures read in order, with thought and devotion. Prayer." From his Journal : — " As I opened my shutters this morning, the crescent moon, clear and well defined, and with a bright attendant star, occupied the blue sky with hardly a cloud. Of what use has that moon been during the past night ! Many a pilgrim has tracked his way by her beams, and many a mariner by them has seen his port! But the sun is rising, and the moon must depart like the Mosaic ritual, and many an old patriarchal form of truth, before the rising of that Sun of Righteousness whose glory was all their light." " There are men who no more grasp the truth which they seem to hold, than a sparrow grasps the message passing through the electric wire on which it perches." " I received the following answers from two intending communicants, and tliey illustrate a fact which has often been impressed on me, respecting the possibility of persons being regular in church all their lives, and yet remain- ing ignorant of the simplest truths. " Who led the children out of Egypt 1 Eve. " Who was Eve ? The mother of God. " What death did Christ die ? (After a long time) Ila^iged on a tree, " What did they do with his body ] Laid it in a manger. " What did Christ do for sinners ? Gave his Son. " Any wonderful woi-ks Christ did 1 Made the world in six days. " Any others % Buried Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. " What became of them afterwards ? Angels took them to Abraham's bosom. " What had Chi-ist to do with that 1 He took Abraham. " Who was Christ ? The Holy Spirit. " Are you a sinner? No, " Did you never sin, and do you love God perfectly? Yes." '' November Uth, 1856.— Both sciatira and work, I fear, on the increase. "I feel the pressure and the pain. What am I to dol "1. Koep my temper and my pe«.f>« in God, the calm of my inner sluino where He is, undisturbed by the noise of the thronging « courts of the 11 %\ ill! 244 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. priests' 'of the people," of the women,' or 'of the gentiles' without. This IS my first duty. There never can be a good reason for my losin^ inner peace with God. God help me. * ." 2- I must by His grace attend to detaUs, and use right means to attain this end. 1. liarly rismg, and methodical division of time. 2. Acceptance ot no more work than can be done in consistency with my health and strength. 3. Cultivating happy, cheerful thoughts of life, having a strong faith that God ts and Christ is, and that the end shall be glorious to every soldier who ' endures hardness,' in the grand campaign. "God give me gi-ace to rise as I used to do— at \ to 6— for it is always hard to the flesh ! ^ " My father. Thou knowest my frame ! Thou rememberest I am dust Ihou carest for me. I can therefore cast my care on Thee, and so be careful tor nothing. Keep me in Thy peace. Let me ever honour Theo as the best of masters by obedience to Thy will in all things, by honouring Thy laws whether relating to body or mind, and by doing all things and accept- ing all things With a calm spirit. Thou knowest Thy servant, and under- standest his thoughts. Help me according to Thy word. Amen "I do not wish to fly to that blue sky, but by the help of God' Almighty to a«t a true and brave part amidst the smoke and mud and sin of Glasgow Lord forgive me, if I seem to think I am endui-ing hardness ! God have mercy on me for ever thinking my lot has a cloud— a speck of hardness in It. My cup runs over with mercies. I am in the lap of every indulgence and if I fret, it is a« a spoiled child." / s . I hout. This )sing inner LS to attain A.cceptance health and ig a strong IS to every is always ' am dust, be careful leo as the uring Thy nd accept- nd under- Almighty i" Glasgow. God have irdness in idulgencCj n CHAPTER XIV. 1857—1859. IN 1857 hb began to hold evening services for the poor, to which none were admitted except in their everyday working clothes. The success of a similar experiment, made many years before in Lou- doun, encouraged him to make this attempt in Glasgow, in the hope of reac'iing some of those who, from poverty or other causes, had fallen away ho.A all church attendance. For the first winter, these services were held in the Martyrs' church, which was filled every Sabbath evening by the very people he wished to get ; the foUov/ing year they were transferred to the Barony, where they were continued till a mis- sion church was built. It may be safely asserted that this work gave him more interest than any othei' he ever undertook ; and that he never addresbcd any audience with greater effect than that which he gathered from " the streets and lanes of the city." The pews were filled with men in their fustian jackets and with poor women, bare- headed, or with an old shawl drawn over the head, and dressed most of them in short-gown and petticoat. Unkempt heads, faces begrimed with labour, and mothers with infants in their arms, gave a strange character to the scene. The police sometimes reported that sevenil well-known thieves were present. But, however large and various the audience might be, he seemed to hold the key to every heart and con- science ; and so riveted was the attention he secured, that not unfre- quently an involuntary exclamation of surprise or sympathy would pass from lip to lip over the crowd. The following description of one of these evenings in the Barony is taken from an English newspaper:— " I found I would not be admitted except I was dressed as a working man. The uniform of a dragoon was ofiered and accepted, but on second thoughts I preferred the cast-off working-dress of a coach-builder— a dirty coat, a dirty white flannel vest, striped shirt, red cravat, and Olepgarry bonnet. Thus attired, I stood waiting among the c*-owd of poor men tmA women that v^ere shivering at the gate biding the time. Many of these women were very old and very frail. The night being excessively cold, tlie most of them had the skirts of their gowns tucked over their heads. Not a few of them had a deep asthmatic wheezel, most distressing to hear. Poor souls ! they were earnestly talking about the Poctoi and his savings. I conversed with several working men who had attendeil all the series from ■U' 246 LIFE OF NOBMAN MACLEOD. Wi l\?attnlT? °Hr.7T'?A^,r^-.-^ "'^'^ "^^ ^^" '^'^''y -«^-«-" scotch wno attended? He said, 'All nations go and hear the Doctor.' Another ffl.!; .1 n ? -'^^'i '""^^ *^ *^^^ ^^^^^^ «^ Sabbath nichts.' 'A body hkes the Doctor/ said another. One man, a labourer, I think, in a foundry said He kent great lots o' folk that's been blessed by the Doctor, bS name o Eoyd and he came ae nicht out o' curiosity, and he was converted afore he raise from his seat, and he's a staunch Protestant to this day every hfm°for"t.' "^ ^'' '"'^"^ '"' "'^*^"' ^"^ ^' ^"« ^"^^^^^ -^ saHgainst Ifaur^A ?' '^''°' 5'n^ °P''''^' ^ '"^^^"' ""^^ *°°k Pl''^«« i» tJiat direction. I found a posse of elders stationed as a ard of inspection, closely examin- ng old and young male and female, and turning back all who hadTny s gns of respectability. A 1 hats and bonnets werf excluded. My coura^^e almost failed me, but as I had from boyhood been in the habit of doin' r f ft T^^'i among tne poor, and being so bent on ascertaining the ' way" of the Doctor with that class, I resolved to make the effort. My weaknei noon p""! ' ^''' '/ ^'^^'^'^ ^^ "^^ ^^ '^' ^^^^^'^ ^ «P«ke to L the fore noon. Pulhng my hair down over my brow, and, in the most slovenly manner possible, wiping my nose with the sleeve of my coat, I pushed my black, red green, or blue, were removed ; no, nor the pew Bibles or Psalm books, a plain proof that, by the test of several years, the poor of tlL c W and wynds could be trusted The contrast between the folenoon and even ing congregations m point of appearance was very great and striking • but m regard to order and decorum there was no diffeience whatever. When the time was up, a little boy was seen leading a blind man along the aisle delk . noof ^^^^% ^" '^l ^'^' ^^'"'^^ '^'' ^^^d "^^^'^ i^ tl»« precentor's desk a poor man SI ting next tome nudged me on the elbow, and asked, ' Is that the man that s o preech till 's ? ' ' Oh, no ! ' said I. ' You'll see the Doctor immediately.' 'But surely,' says he, 'that canna be the regdai us poor folks Here the Doctor-stout, tall, and burly-was seen ascend- mg he pulpit stauu He began by prayer. He then gave out the 130th Psalm for praise Before singing, he commented at great length on tie character and spirit of the Psalm, dwelling very fully on the first line 'Lord, from the depths to thee I cried ! ' Nothing could liave been betted adapted for his auditory than the Doctor's consolatory exposition of that ^!^\ w precentor by this time had got very uneasy, and had several t n es struck his pitchfork, and was ready to start, but the Doctor, being so full, and having s ill this, that, and the other thing to say, he could not commenc3. At last, the Doctor looking kinclly^down upon him, s^fd Youllncepow, Peter, and begin.' He rose, and began. He, tracing the ' hues witli his fingers on his ponderous Psalm book of raised letters, 'gave mth fJ.Tl T *'?n, .It. ^-^«.a'^o«t gratifying spectacle, a^d said much for the advance of Christian civilization. The Doctor next read the first chapter of the first epistle of Paul to the Thessaloniana. The com- mentary on the chapter was most strikingly effective in point of consolatory ana practical aiinlication to thfi nnnrlifinn nf i.ia „„-].v„,.„ t ^ . and practical application to the condition^of his auditory. Tn referriuir to 1857—1859. 247 against but the mother and grandmother of Timothy, he made a grand stand for char- acter, which made the poor man next to me strike the floor several times with his feet by way of testifying his approbation. Had the Doctor's re- marks on the subject been delivered from a platform, they would have elicited thunders of applause. He said the most valuable thing Prince Albert left was character.* He knew perfectly well that very many very poor i^eople thought that it was impossible for them to have a character. It was not true ; he would not hear of it. There was not a man nor a woman before him, however poor they might be, but had it in their power, by the grace of God, to leave behiiid them the grandest thing on earth, character ; and their children may rise up afte)- them, and thank God that their mother was a pious woman, or their father a pious man. The text se- lected was 1 Timothy vi. 12 — 14. The discourse was very plain, explicit, pointed, and amjily illustrated, as by one who knew all the ' outs and ins,' difficulties and trials of the people before him, and they listened with breath- less attention, and appeared to drink in all he said, as indeed, ' good words ' for them. Some of the children-in-arms sometimes broke the silence by their prattle or then- screams, but the doctor, though uncommonly sensitive, never appeared the least put about." The results of these services were remarkable. Many hundreds were reclaimed from lawless habits, some of the more ignorant were educat- e<.l, and a large number became communicants. There was a nobility of character displayed by several of these working-men which moved him to tears as he spoke of them, and gave him a deeper love than ever for the poor. Some of them took ways of showing their gratitude, the very oddity of which gave touching evidence of the depth of the feel- ing.f His method of instruction was admirably adapted to the character of his audience. He was never abstract, but threw his teaching into objective or descriptive form, and not seldom dramatized the lesson he was enforcing. His counsel was not confined to things spiritual, but embraced such practical matters as the sanitary condition of the liouses of tlie poor, healthy food, and the treatment of children, and was given so forcibly that the meanest intelligence could understand the rationale of his advice. The unatlected sympathy with the poor and ignorant in all their wants and dilliculties was the secret of his power over them His frankness and large human-hearteduess commanded their confi- dence and won their allection. "March 15, 1857. — I began, four weeks ago, my sermon to working-men and Avomen in their working clothes, on my old Loudoun plan, of excluding all who had clothes fit for church by day. And by God's great mercy I have * This description was written in 1861. + 1 remember on a Siuiday evening returning with liim, after one of these services, to our father's house. When the cab stopped, a rough hand was pushed in at the win- dov/. Norman understood wiiat was meant, and on taking wliat was oflcred, received a warm grasp from some unknown working-njan, wlioliad c.oincfrouitho Barnny church, a lile away, to express by this act more thankfuhiess than he could find words to utter. fi' 1^ ii 248 LIFE OF NORMAN .^ACLEOD. m n ml fT^;?"^'!-^^ ^^^"^y^'' ^^^"^^^ -^^^ «"«h- I never experienced more iov J'-J^daj/ 29._On the Monday after the former journal I was seized mth dreadful neuralgia (as it was called). I spent the night inZ study on the floor, sofa, chair— anywhere for rest Tf lnf+ rv,^ rr V ^^^ay Aen till Sunday I 'suffered Jer.l hour^ e^' dat "e »lr SnTi e'v"' « 3!^ ^5^ "l^'r ?f promoting increased life in tlie Church he wrote a series of aricles m tne Edmhcrgh Christian Marmimhi wh^nt pt;posed the formation of a Church Union for theVrpose of £ lig questions connected witli practical .vork, and CCnest rav.; for the outpouring of God's Spirit. He believ;d tLat therwlC^v ministers and laymen who vyere mourning in seciet o4r fault in t J Churcli which were a continual burden to his own soul a d Uia^ e ?::lZf'' ^"Slit be expected if such men were onl^ t^u^^ ttothe for conference and prayer. The state of the Church seemed to call ^r Xmed" m7n"f ■"'^^"^- "r^ ^^^"••- me ;r thaTte^" 1 alarmed What most pains me is that we are not pained " " Whet or we are the Church of the past, or the true representatives of the Seco^f Keformation, or any other reformation, is to us a q iScn o ^orr^^^^^^^^^ tivelyhtte importance; but it is of inHnite inipoSfe Sat wrK Church 01 the present, and thereby become the Clnirch o the Mu 'f Geit-ansiJmbi^ '^'''''''^' ''^^'^-'' ^''^^ ^ ^^^^^ ^--.' -ry From his Journal : — f>,»'7^'? T,"'l '"'1'"'? "^ *''" ^"'"" '■" to-morrow. I have prayed ofton 1857—1859. 249 i more joy i Waterloo, ; is written such good w^as seized my study; 3day, and, ony I ever as in bed. ee] able to i'ith much ed boy on s yet most week 1 I , as far as ;iut, as far affliction, him from re is ever lie wrote vhich lie discuss- b i)rayer re many ;3 in the that the together call i'or are not Whether Second >nipara- i be the future, fellow - , hut it ning is ; every I often lit HlJi'lt ■ch, liy "April W, 12 P.M. — Sunday last I finished my winter's course in the Martyrs' Church, and invited all who wished to partake of the Lord's Sup- per to intimate their wishes to mo on Tuesday in the vestry. On Tuesday evening seventy-six came for communion ! Of these forty-seven had never communicated before. Fifty-two were females ; twenty-five males. I never saw such a sight, nor experienced such unmixed joy, for all kad come be- cause blessed through the Word, and a gi-eat majority seemed to me to have been truly converted. Bless the Lord ! To-morrow, please God, I shall give them the Communion in their working clothes at five in the cliurch. " I am persuaded that to succeed in doing pormanent good to such it is necessary (1) To preach regularly and systematically (with heart, soul, and strength, though !). (2) To exclude well-dressed people. (3) To keep out of newspapers and ofi" platforms, and avoid fuss. (4) To develop self- reliance. (5) To give Communion on creditable profession, as the apostles admitted to the Church, and then to gather up results, and bring the con- verts into a society. (6) To follow up by visitation, stimulating themselves to collect for clothes. " Tuesday, IWt. — What shall I render unto the Lord for all His benefits'? " Sabbath was a day of peace and joy, and my sermon on ' God forbiil that I should glory, (fee,' preached in great peace by me — and I believe found most profitable by my dear people. Ifow could I convey to any other the profound and undying conviction I have of God being verily a hearer of prayer and a personal God ? Whatever arguments were capable of shaking my faith in this, would shake my foith in God. 1 gave the Communion to sixty-seven working people in their working clothes. Having kept my in- tention secret, as I was teiTified iovfuss and a spectacle, none were present but the elders. I went through the regular service, occupying about seventy minutes. The whole scene was very solemn, very touching. I believe all were sincere. " But now comes the great work of training them to habits of self-reliance and self-denial. I shall watch and labour, and before God shall tell the truth of my results. Failure may teach us as well as success. If I fail, then I will set a buoy on my wreck to warn others from the rock, but not from the harbour. My new elders were with me — God bless them ! " Last evening all was ended with a prayer-meeting of the Union, I in th(^ chair. My good and valued friends, William llobertson and Smith of Ijaiid'^r, with mo, also dear James Campbell. " Then prayor and thanksgiving alone with my belovcul wife for the end of these five weeks since the night I sprang up in agony und spent a night of great pain in this room — my study ! " ^fay. — I go to London this evening to speak for Tract Society. I preach twice for Herschell. On Monday, for the London Missioniiry Society j then hom^, dear homo ! And now, Father, I go forth again in Thy name, and desire to be kept true, liumble, and unselfish : seeking Thy glory and Thy favour, whi< h verily is life I Amen, and Anien. *^ May 17.— I have returned, and give thanks to God! I spoke on Friday evening— very lamely indeed— for I was made so uncomfortable by a narrow and vulgar attack by on ; und then by as narrow and more vulgar attack by on modern nov(>ls. J had to stick up for Jack the Giant Killer. T think I shall never enter Exeter Hall again on such oc- casions. The atmosphere is too niuggy for my h'ngs." I I i { 250 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD, offn!i ^ , 1857 was notable m his own spiritual history. He was at acked by an illness which fur a time gave his medical advisers con «iderable anxiety and was attended with such pani, tliat he had fre- quently to pass the greater part of the night in his diair ; yet dui^nt the day, when the suffering had abated, he was generally Jt his p "t of labour m the parish. For a while he took the worst view of hTs own case, kit anticipated its issue with calmness. An autumn tour how" ever, in Switzerland in whicli he was accompanied by his wife and bv his valued friends. Mr. andMr^. J. A. Campbell, in a great measure ^^ stored him. But, shortly after his return, Mrs. Mlcleod was la7d prostrate by typhoid fever, which rendered her delirious for several weeks, and reduced her to so critical a condition that on several oc casions her life was despaired of He recognized the solemn teaching which these days of terrible suspense cont^iined, and his journals re cord the mental agony he passed through, as he tried to render willint obedience to his Fjither's will. It seemed a period when all the les" sons of his past life-all his own sermons and teaching to o he^-a he had knownof Godand of thenature ofChristian lifeas alife of Sonsliin --were gathered into one decisive question for his own soul H^ btera lly wrestcKl in prayer, and fought inch by inch against seif-wiil until he was able to say, in peaceful submission, "Thy will be done'' llie effects of this time were immediate and enduring. He lived hence ortli more entirely for God, and became much more tender considerate, and patient towards others than he hai), and Comforter ! tru'lthl'' Thoo r'^^'' ""^ ^'^ ^"^ *"""'''' ""'^''"'*''' ^J«'i'rf»I, patient, becauw " Lveiiin!/.—! fool a crisis in my illness is piiHsed. O my God, lot not 1857—1859. 251 He was how- vM'o such days of thought be lost to me, as those occasioned last month by my mistaken fears about myself." To J. G. Hamilton Esq. : — "Craig IE Burn, Moffat, July 1th. " Here I am, like a blackbird reposing in ray nest in a green wood, beside a bum, surrounded by pastoral hills, musical with bleating shee]) and ishadowy with clouds. My chicks all about me, some chirping, some sing- ing, all gaj)ing for food, with my lady blackbird perched beside me, her glossy plumage glittering in the sun, a perfect sermon on contentment. " Blackbirds put me in mind of bills, and bills of money, and money of those who need it, and then of those who are willing to give it, and that brings me to you. It is not for schools, churches or schemes, but for charity, to help a needy gentlewoman " I am sorry to say that my complaint has not left me. I had a learned consultation in London with the great authority in such cases. He has put me on a regimen so strict that it would make a hermit's cell almost com- fortable ; and he commands rest. But this I cannot command for a month yet." Frojn his Journal : — " December. — I am alone, with nothing to occupy me but my owt» thoughts, and come what may, perhaps it may help on God's work in my soul if I try to express even in a very inadequate and crude way the solemn crisis through which I am now passing. " Wednesday night my beloved one became so alarmingly ill that I lost all hope. The night was a memorable one to me. It was one of those awful soul struggles between life in God and the creature, which seem to com- press the history of years into minutes. The oiily thing that gave me light was the one thought of doingGod's will, and it did seein to me right, beau- tiful, good, that it should be done any way. I was able to look uj) to my Father and say, ' Thy will, not mine.' But oh ! oh ! the struggle now ! To be willing in truth, to bury my lift; out of sight, how hard ! To have my true life in God alone — impossible ! I am supi)orted, I think (dear God, pity me !) I can aay, ' Thy will, not mine !' But to do this truly ; to do it always ; to do it in all things ; to liang loose from life to nil but Thee ! O my Father, help me, teach me, for 1 desire fjiilh and patience to have their perfect work. I desire to be made Thino wholly, and to learn obedience and meekness as a son ; but O (Jod, my Father uphold mo under Thy loving, but son; and necessary dealing. If she is taken away ! If she is spared ! * I^ord, into Thy hand I counnit my spirit,' as unto a faithful Creator. Glorify Tliy name ! " My Father, I lie at Thy feet, and desire to be led as a ''liild, and to fol- low Jesus — to die with Him. Yet lead me not into deejjer trial lest I perish. Yet, Anion — Amen — l trunt in Thee ! In the d"pths, in dark- ness, I trust in Thee. God forgive my fears; Thou rememberost I am dust." " -' -'"■^^'' ''^"" := " 2-2iid Xomniber. " The nervous, distracted outward man is one, and the inner rust in God . s Ni I III } 1 1 252 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. belongs to another beinff. Thev botli «nrll,r ., ^ . shaken in Him, May it be fonn J fn tt- , ^ """f; ^''^ "^^ ^i*^ « ^ol "All that man can do for her is dnnp sj^,^ ,•„ x i i I am told there is hoi^e and thnt ffl '^'''*.'^*^^ ^^^^^ ^O"*", and vessel weather the long Zif '"''' '^''''''''' ^^ *i«^«- Can the ne^t^sTIl 'f tS; tufbaS '^ ^ 'ir^^^^'^^^^- ^-t the awful agonies -and this da^pe^ip:^^^^^^ *^« ^-bts, fears, ■^ro^ft his Journal :— and X"" '°''" '"""'""" '"' "'• M«1"ff We been a great strength " It is hard to describe my feelino-s T nn,,, i,^ ^ ^ , moment I should be kept off the ol' fife ^hrL^T 0^1, T .^'''' ^"^ ""^ her into His hands. I know he wiU n -1!^! f t ' • ^ ^^''^ ^^^^^^^^^ I know) that His kinc^dom IhJl onX^ ^' ^?\^ ^''"'^ ^''^ (^« f'^^' as other hind, should shfSl ^^^^^^^^^ ^f ""f \^': J^^^n, on the fought whether or not I sLl altl ; f J f •m^'"'^ ^^**^^ ^'^^ **^«^ *« be feel that God's grace will tremi 'red t^ '^'^ T ^"'' "^ ^^^ ^^^">^- ^ gift is restored as if taken away^ ^ ^ ^'^ "'"'^' ^"'^ "^^ ^^ *^« P»-««io"s Th:^^i;;^t:rt!:^on^^^^ ^^^^* ^^^ «*-"^*^ - ^- ^e ,ean on To his Sister Jane :— " Saturday night and Sunday morninrr was mv thh-A K • i ^ ^ gave her up again, and the thiJcl was moreTanle fist S f ^f ^ -Sr-' t *' -" ™- "- "- -- ""' ™""' '^ '" Everything is oouiusion-night and day mingled." Fmyt his Jourkai. :— '^'Thnr.^y/ay.~ All going on well. "I hardly know wlmf f fliinL- T^T.^ does not ai all allect In/ !^t'hoJ^d7r , "*"'^' •f*"^'^ *? '^^^'^'^ fragments in any uuainer^ w " ,■ .^ "i,, ^ rril'rl'" ^."''""' "'' *^"' meet and sympathise with God in hI in./ , 'T f [fj ' ^''''^^ *« staml what the will „f the Lonl is. and w at fc H s In!,', i • ~*^ ""^''''■ "Ood was tead.i.ig nie (1) wlu'ro my tn , Mf 'f^ '•'^,'^"^^l»«««- in Him only. (2) Ao Huki^!; ^f 'S/g :if ^t^:'; l' l^-^ «""' -^'» m the most trying hour. (.1) How I, eau f^ 1 m '• . ""/' ^*''" I"'''^'« is that ilis irl,»y ^ho.,!-! !-.. . ...\ " T "'j^"*»t'»' His will is— how riirht it 3-_-y .u...,iA u. th, ^,,,„d ead of creation, and tho sole ambition 1857—1859. 253 y fkith is not Within- y hour, and le. Can the St the awfu] •ubts, fears, !at strength ast for one ve resigned it (as far as len, on the then to be e daily. J be precious ^e lean on 3f her. I one knows ent, and I der if the to health Used uie. Jalm and Deriod of '1- up the Jsible, to iinder- 8. fiin, and vo peace rit^ht it imbitiou ot tjie spirit of man. (4) How I deserved to be, not chastised, but punish ed for sin ; and how hard it was for one who trusted in ' riches ' to entei into the kingdom, or to sell all and follow Him ! '• But my comforting thoughts were — " (1) God's glory. What was right and beautiful in His sight was often very consoling. (2) That Jesus was in the house, and saw all, planned all and would do all most tenderly, lovingly, and wisely. (3) That there was no depth to which He had not descended. If I made my bed in hell He was there. I was much touched by the 22nd Psalm, in which, after utter- ing His own deep sorrow (' My God,' &c.) and recounting how our fathers had trusted God, he says, ' But I am a worm, and no man !' Think of that ! As if His case was too desperate. (4) That patience must have her perfect work, and that faith must be tried and found precious. (5) That God wished me as a child to open my whole heart and tell Him everything When David was told by Nathan that his child should die, he still prayed to God for Its recovery. ' I doubt not,' says Hall so beautifully, ' God His Father took it kindly' (6) That God was feeling keenly for me, even when afflicting me. As I heard of a father who used to sufler agony in dressing the wounds of his cliild ; yet his love alone enabled him to do it while putting her to so much pain. " I have met extraordinary and wondrous sympathy ; it utterly amazes me, and has given me a new and most touching view of my nei 1 foit as if I couW ha™ g^t 'r fll m wiht TherT """':?"'" •'''^' what it is to h^SjZ^ ■ ' '"'™'' P'''"'' "^ I "" '° "-"• I f"^l del'^Md^ro'itwa'"'' ° """""« "' "^ ""'' ~»>">™'e.nts, and „ very Tho,i:;l;'d™i:/.r'.:.."!;!."''''^-™"''.'°*^ ™"""""- f^ti-efi-t ti.-. r II I 256 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. ' 'If ! ^! =, as I had no sittings for them. A lai'ge number, about twenty, I think, sal down intheii- woi4cing clothes. At my ordinary communion others had got o-ood clothes. Now I find that, with the exception of nine, all are attending church fit to join at the ordinary communion. These nine are too much in difficulty from want of work to get good clothes yet. They will sit down in their working clothes. I have steadfastly kept aloof from giving clothes, lest it should be looked on as a bribe and injure themselves and others. See the result ! , -r^ , . , i j rt i " I am now collecting for my Mission Church at Kelvinhaugh, and Ood is greatly blessing me in it." He was made deeply thankful by receiving from the working-men themselves, on more than one occasion, such testimonies as the foliow- infr to the benefit they had derived from his teaching :— . . We thank God for having led you in the midst of your multifarious and onerous duties to think of us, and we thank you for having been the willing instrument in His hand of first rousing us from our mdit- ference, and leading us to +ake a manly and straightforward view of our condition. Though the novelfcv which at first attached to these meetings has passed away, some of us kiaow that their influence for good has been most enduring. . Not content with bringing us, as it were, to the entrance of the Saviour's Church and leaving us to go in or return as we pleased you have led us into the great congregation of His samts on earth, and ha /e invited us to take our places among our fellow-believers at the Lord's table, so that we might enjoy similar privileges with them. Those of us who have accepted this invitation have nothing of this world s goods to offer you in return, but we shall retain a life-long gratitude tor your kind- ness— a gratitude which shall be continued when we shall meet in that eternal world which lies beyond the grave. . . . We beg you will accept of these expressions of gratitude in place of ' the silver and gold ot whifch ' we have none,' and we subscribe ourselves, with much regard, " The Woeking-Men." A working-man, who signs his own name " on behalf of a number oi' others," writes— " We are not aware whether you know of any case in which your labours have been successful in arousing the careless, and in effecting reformation m character and disposition ; if not, we can assure you that such instances are not rare, as even in our own neighbourhood many have been brought, through your instrumentality under God, to bethink themselves and mend their ways." From his Journal ;— *' April 30 —The University of Glasgow has this day conferred tlie honour on me of the degree of D.D, How sad it makes me ! I feel as if ihey had stamped me with old age, and that it was a great cataract in the _.._-„ i„„j;„^ rv,,,..^ yav^ifllv +n ' tbfi unfathomable crulf where all is still. And it is so. I have at best but a short tmie for work. O my God, brace of a number 1857—1859. 25V TLou hast given me to do !" ^"^^ ^"^ ^^^«^ ^^ work which To the Rev. J. E. Cummino :_ time. But I doubt not ttt the soKv 'of tT^ V*^^ '^^^^ counterpoise, keeping the soul in hour] v^^^^^^^^ ^'^^ l''^^^^ "^^y ^'' ^« ^ hfe. I have no doubt you w 1 fiX hiesl?- ''• ' '^^*' *'^' ^^'^ ^^^^'^"g It is good to be made to feelhow God', in l? ^^""^ *^"' *° ''^'^ '''''^'^^' be able to review from withouHur m.f w V''' f ".^ ^^*^^0"* "«' ^^^ to Himself, and thus be more emptied o^f onr ' '^^ *" ^ ^''^^ ^^«^ ^^ ^od " When we are weak, tLn a^,l teltrol L'^'r 't'"' . P>Y you may every da; be drav^ LatTcj.nV f* T *^' ^'^^''^- ^ m body and soul." ^^"^^"^ ^^'^«<^' ^^^ return to us stronger From his Journal ;— " J^?«ne 3, again !~I am now fortv-six and ih. a,+ so this life of mine, which seems to ml «tn ,1 /"^"re uncertain ! And declare it makes the pers, iSn ZSt . ^° ^'«^"' ^« ^^^^ ending-' I ness, desultory study,^3 ci? w\etdW "'\"'^ *''''"• ^^' ^"-'^ed idle- " young,-this has been a grievot ev^a^S^^^^^ scholarship when I have wanted took for my ZZll7owet. J Y'"'^'''' *'' ^^ ^" ^^ l^e-' by art, so that they could WbeenTIl ^^'^^"Y 'f ""^'^^^ ^een trained feel that I could have done somethwl I ^ '"'''' ^'"""^ ^^^ P««t ^i^, I satisfaction on these by^ne Jears "^ *" ^^"^'^ '^^^^ "^« ^^ok back Vith more -M'i -^^T;::;f^^-;^^^;;j^J^^^^ baa llttle child, then of my old age! ^ childhood, nor fear the coming on kingdoS'*' ^^"' "°" ^"' ^°^ ^-^ '^^' I 1^-e been born twice in Thy T.' Mr.. M.CLEOI, (during her absence with his fa.„ily i„ the country) :- "Why do you leave me herp fo h. a 7"^ ^''""''' "^"^^ 26<;., 1858. house is'hoii. I am"a fitS^o^tt^^^^^ The mdicates a clear connection with the u Len wodd tT'^ '^ ' '^'^ *^^** How slow must Hades bo if spirits find Won, 7 i rJ^^''"" ''''' "^ises too. more exciting! How idle theTmu t be if To f Sf ' ^'""''^ "' '^''' «««««" urgent work ! And yet on my Wui I belilv? /. ^ •^''"'"'^'^ ^' *^^^"- '^^^^t moment up the stairs." ^ ''^'^'^'^^ *^^^^« ^^ one going at this From his Journal:— lil'^Tt; f^7' ''"f t"" ,*r ^"^^ *° be at rest wi.h ,.. fo^. , - -tart tudiiy with Leituh* for a dash infn «,..•.„:.:,.:. \ ■" i^S^'^l. -^ Ella 'The late Principal Leitch 17 Switzerland. May God L' > I LIFE OF NORM AN MACLEOD. ".i !l ! 258 guide me aixd keep me holy and wise, that I may return home fit in mind and body for my winter work !" "Paris. To Mrs. MACLEOD:— Champs Elys^es were theologically so. "Zurich, Fnday, lOlh Sfptember, 1858. .« At T^o^le I called for Auborlen. We spent the rest of our time in the InstUutfont tSnfMissionarie^ and had all my pnnc.ples confirmed and illustrated. . ,. i -i^r^^r 4r. +Vii« nlaf-p As we were cross- ing a valley, the range ot f^^^r^^'^,- western sides with the intense ..ountain-side and V-fJ^^^^^^ I ^ra cry of wonder a..d joy that furbished gold we saw at Mont /^^^^^«^ J^ ^^^^j^^ J ^ .wading all the time T w tS TZtSns a combination of short staira, ymmgrn, kitchens, b^VooIsta lC--t utterly indesoibable as to their „lat.ve „os. L^?7hrr;a™h :sre'^tie^''ir'Sn\hich i^ .^ .,.*„ Paradise." " Kaoatz, 12th Septemh^r. TllllZi^t Sg ike two ,aws-no,v in contact, and tb™ an the edges at ^n«^^0P, .""'\"'» ^^ .. ui„„ ^^y ^^d the intense green trees open hole thn,ugh which you ^^^^^^^^ you-fifty feet belowfthe la.ging waving in light some hundreds of feet ab^e y^ J^l zig-zag path about Btream. It is a wondrous gorge t-'^xt ! Wc ascended b> ^ j^i^ ^^ ^^^^^ 1857—1859. in mind "Paris. Lg btit the n was no places for wlio, were 5, that the her, 1858. ime in the confirmed were cross- ight, every the intense lid joy that ill the time tion to the but we did ed, and re- at the first jnts to the I projecting s, kitchens, lative poai- ;heir guests, m is full of r practisiiig OSS so thor- )rt of hotel, Is a glorious im nowhere own fireside my eai'thly \ Septemher. it wonderful kI feet deep; and then an i green trees vr, the raging ,g path about iffht of srreen peaks, moun- hundreds of 259 goat-bells ! I could have sat down and wept. As it was I lifted un mv heart ri prayer, rmd blessed God for this one /riorioursi.'.ht Im T f.S could return home with thankfulness." ^ ^ ' ^ ^ ^^^^ ^ ,.- - , "Cannstadt, 20ressed, for example, in that heroic song, 'A man's a man for a' that.' Another is, his intense nationality — a noble sentiment, spring- ing, like a plant deeply rooted for ages in the soil, and bearing fruit which noiuishes the manliest virtues of a people. Few men have done for any country in this respect what Burns has done for Scotland. He has made our Doric for ever poetical. Everytlung in our land, touched with the wand of his genius, will for ever retain the new interest and beauty which he has imparted to it. Never yn[\ the ' banks and braes of bonnie Doon* cease to be ' fresh and fair,' nor the 'birks of Aberfeldy' to hang their tresses in the bright atmosphere of his song. He has even persuaded Scotchmen ' o' »' the airts the wind can blaw' most dearly to 'lo'e the west,' though it comes loaded to us, who live in the west, only with the soft favours of a 'Scotch mist.' So possessed are even i-ailway directors and rough mechanics bv his presence and his power, that they send 'Tarn o' Shanter' and 'Souter Johnnie' as locomotives, roaring and whistling through the land that is called by his name, and immortalised by his genius. How marvellously has he welded the hearts of Scotchmen throughout the world. Without him they would, no doubt, be united by the ordinary bonds of a common country tliat cannot anywhere be forgotten — a common tongue that cannot anywhere be easily mistaken — and by mercantile pursuits in which they cannot any- where be wanted. But still these ties woidd be like the cold hard cable that connects the Old and New World beneath the Atlantic. The songs of Burns are the electric sparks which flash along it and give it life ; and 'though seas between us may be cast,' these unite heart and heart, so that as long as they exist, Scotchmen can never forget 'au!d acquaintance,' nor the ' days o' lang syne.' And yet. how can a clergyman, of all men, forget or fail to oxpresfi his deep sorrow on such an occasion as the present for some things that Burns lias written, and which deserve the uncompromising 1857—1859. 261 oondemnation of those who love him best? I am not called upon to nasa any judgment on him as a man, but only as a writer; and wSh rSence S some of his poems from my heart I say it-for his own sake fd the s^kl of my country for the sake of righteousness more than all-wouM God thev were never written, never printeP R„f before that nn on is possible, there must, in the natu Tof thWs^t ie^i^ tive enactment. It is not possible with the present state of o'u^ law wt; referenceto the induction of ministers, not to speak of our laws affecW spintual independence. The Free Church men have ju^tS trthe who e world the seriousness and strength of their convictions on th^ po^ts 2 It we are to be as one again, these convictions a^ssuredly n Tbe resp^ by us-at all events they themselves will respect them/' respected Fro7n his Journal : — Hilnlmer''--"^^"^^'^"*"^- ^^ gi- her to the Lord. Bless -MarcA 12.-' We give her to the Lord,' and this night it worUd seem as If the Lord would take her to Himself. She has been Wd wkh chZa and st'ciiis very weak. ^-noieia '' March 15.-The anniversary of my ordination twenty-one years airo ' I have attained my majority ns a minister. Praise the Lord for it - ^ ' In proportion as I realise how the Lord l,a.s made me an instrument of good, and ever heard my prayer, and blessed my miseral,le labo^ Tn that proportion ,lo I feel how deep and real i« my sin. Where lu^ been tU habitual yeannng for sc)uls, the chon.shing tlufm as a nurse her chUdn n the constant prayer for them; the ca^ying their bunlen thn nrnVn. / action; the devotedness; the love to Chrii? always it^l ^SZ s ns and . efects as a minister would overwhelm mo, unless I believed in tW glorious atonement made for the worst : justittcation by faith .doi^o Path " m Chnst, forgive thine unworthy servant! Knt^V m.t ent"; not ,7.' ,n%inent, tor he cannot out of Christ be justified ! I ^loUT^; {^^ ^^ll u.P'j!:'Z^.ZrZr '''' '''"^^"'""^ ''' ''"'- ' '"^'^^^^ ^^ " How strange tJiat she knows no one in the universe' Yet how k,m«,n ot'sPY t'"I'!rn!T'^"'''H^''^ '''Sr"^ ^^" hredu'^^li'rbe"^ ; ours ! Yot I do not envy it now. The old earfh, where Christ himself )eai-ned olxMlience as a chihl, i. the urandoHt sohn..!. ^ '"'""^'^ 'mh.-Nnsv, though not out of grout danger, there is hone It hiui W a mc«t blessed time ! We gave her to the' Lord, I ."lieT^incere^J? ■s ! '|i ^l 1 if' 1 i 1 J '1 i 264 LIFH OF NORMAN MACLEOD. We give her still, as far as we know our hearts. We prayed beside her ; but with the yearning implanted in our hearts by our Father, we cried to Him to spare her ; and God knoweth how I feel it is His doing, and m answer to prayer, if she is spared. . „. a i . j -d . " God bless my sermons to-day on Missions in St. Andrew s and Uarony ! Hear me, Lord, for my heart is in it ! " There were few important questions brought before the Assembly of 1859 on which he did not speak at length ; most of them touched on matters in which he had special interest. The subject of the revi- val which followed on the great American awakening ot 1858, \vas then rousing attention in Ireland and in many parts of Scotland. He never doubted the possibility of a great outpouring of the Spirit, and, at the bcnnning of the movement, he wrote and pr-ached much in its favour. Later phases of it compelled him, however, to modify his ex- pectations as to its results ; but the incredulity with which the very idea of a revival was regarded by many of the clergy, grieved him even more than the exaggerations of over-zealous supporters. When the question came before the Assembly of 1859, it did so m a shape which excited in him a feeling of positive indignation. A mmister labourin" in a poor parish in Aberdeen, had permitted several earnest laymen to address his people from the pulpit ; and the Presbytery, avoidin" any expression of opinion as to the cliaracter of their teach- ing or Its results, had thought proper to rebuke their more zealous brother on the technical ground of having allowed laymen to speak m church This unsympathetic method of putting down an earnest, and, at worst, a mistaken attempt to do ^ood, touched Norman Macleod to the quick. " A few Christian men," he said, " came to Aberdeen, and were brought within the sacred walls of one of the churchcH there. He did not know whether thoy preached a sermon or not; he did not know whether they stood in a pulpit fifteen feet, or on a platform seveii feet high, but he jcne^ that they addressed people upon the unsearchable riches ot Christ, and that as Christian men they spoke from their hearts to thousands. " The only fault found witli these men seemed to bo that they addressed immortal souls on the truth of Christianity within the walls of a church, hut he had be.m i)rought up in the belief that the Church of Scotland at- tached no peculiar sacre.lness to stone and liu.i^ It had been pleaded at the bar that these men might go to the street. Rut there were many laws that were tolerable only beoaiise they had liberty occasionally to bmik them : and surely all Church laws must subserve the one grand .uid lor which all Churciies exist. They might hav.. dec.mcy, order, regularly ap- pointed licentiatoH, and regularly ordained m-n, and death all the wlnh". This was not a tinu^ when there was so nnich nec(>Hsity for increased spint- ual life, for the General vV^sembly to occupy a whole night nx tiu.bug lault because a minister permits a layman to preacli the g<.si.fl troui a pulpit He also spoke upon Home MissioiiH, and in the course of his speech 1857—1859. 265' took occasion to repudiate some of the accounts that were commonlv given by social and religious Eeformers of the coSiW Sow and of the stjte of the working classes there. No one knew ifS than he the characteristic faults of those classes ; Zt he eSSv wlf ' ^^^gg^^ted statements as to their habits with wWchsen^ timental proposals for their improvement were often suplr ed Tt must also be confessed that he was hurt by the manner inThich hS wno were ready to brand a man as an abettor of drunkenness if hp did not mculcate their special opinions. His tract on Wmnce Ind been more than once most unjustly handled brtLse S' of Morkmg-men the liberty which was not denied to other classes hi spoke with a warmth and frankness which startled many "The city of Glasgow has somehow or other got such a verv hnrl nn^^ "Do not let us fall into exaggeration. Wo have an enormous mass of gnorant people m G asgow. We have a mass of Iri.sli, neither under tl^e cai^ of priest or presbyter, and in a wretched, degraded con htion bu T feel there is a vast number of steady, sober. God-f^u-ing r^r aln^s ouJ «^orking classes who are never hoard of, Imd who. whilTt the e dn nk^n ol ows may be creatmg a disturbance in the streets, are sitting out ybv le.r firesides. Generally speaking, I must say the working cTsses a^ .My ike the upper class.. I Hnd vulgar, dissipated, and incLe^ poop e in I oth c.asses. I must nlsc. state that the working dassos have a resn JJ t. wi h ^p;:^' i;^r'r^ ''^'^'^^ «"« -*•' -^-t. pro's i:z:^ niun with usi)o, t, !,„ it -me goes among th.. working classes he outdit ot to do so as If arranging lor I'opish oontrovorsios, or as a c<,utmvn.s" I though I am muy to .in so, but f hesitate not to say, as the ,-esult of ' soiwa ion ot Missions .<> flomanists as hitherto conducto.l in o t o t J , t 'o ...neiyditncuUt.M,verc.uue.-H.,m,^hdoT;:,i;:ve^ mg to the working-men at night. I toil thom I am not going t^ZoIr J I 1 ; tl 1 i 1 1 V 1 ■ li 1 i ill \ '. i I ■■ 1 ■ 1 » T 266 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. Romanism or Popery, because that doing so has driven men from the gospel. I am going to preach the gospel only. And I know that Roman Catholics do come, brought by those who attend regularly. I am very glad that it is proposed to combine the anti-popery agency with the home-mission agency, and I hope the Missionaries will go earnestly and lovingly amongst the l>eople as brethren to brethren, not in the attitude of saying, ' You are wrong and we are right,' or * We only want you to come from the Popish to the Protestant Church.' .... " In regard to the means taken to educate the working classes we are too apt to forget that man is a compound being, a social being, and that it is important to help him to better house-accommodation, and a better know- ledge of natural laws. Above all, do not assume too high a standard as to the litUe luxuries enjoyed by working-men. Some say the working-man, in order to be temperate, must not taste a single drop ^ fermented liquor ; and people, who hav« themselves their wine, may be heard talking wisely about the horror of the working-man having his glass of beer or porter, I cannot talk in this way. I should feel it hyiwcritical. I would rather say to them : ' God has given it to you, don't take it as from the devil, but use it as from God. Don't take it in the publichouses. If you wish to use such things, do so frankly, and as in the presence of God, at your own fire- side, or before family worship, ami if the minister comes in offer him sonio, and don't be ashamed.' Do not let me be misunderstood as to what I say about temperance, because, remember, there is a tendency among a certain type of teetotalers to spread as facts all that can be brought agamst any clergyman who dares to lift up his voice against what threatens to be a terrific tyranny in Scotland. iSow mark what I do say. Do not suppose that when visiting the houses of working men I am in the habit of taking anything from them ; I never do so. Nor would I be undei-stood to say that I would not seek to make teetotalers among the working classes. "When I find that any of them drink to excess, I try to make them resolve to be teetotal ; but I put it in this form : * Christ desires temperance, and if you can't be temperate without being teetotal, then you must be teetotal.' In the same way some ji ople, in order to save the working-man from ex- travagance, say, ' Oh, this is dreadful ; you have only from sixteen to seven- teen shillings a week and yet I have more than once found you with a pii)e in your mouth.' Now why should he not smoke his pipe ] Do you imagine we are to have the confidence of the working 'slassos if we speak to them in that fashion ? I would rather say to him, ' I'll give you tobacco to keep your pipe lighted, I like one myself In order also to have working-meu keep the Sabbath, some are in the habit of speaking to them against walk- ing on the Sabbath, as if they wore terrified to give them that liberty. But why should they wish to be loss liberal than God who has made us and knows our frame 1 Let us be fair and honest with the working-rnan, and you will find him display no tendency to ijervert your teaching if you deal with him in a spirit of liberality and in accordance with the laws of God properly inttn-preted. But when you are less liberal than God and draw tho bow too much in one direction, it will rebound all the more on the other." He concluded a long speech by expressing his conviction that the grand instfumcMt for cluvatii%- the working ciasses, and all elaases, is ^ 1857—1859. 267 To Miss Scott Moncrieff :— like a great flood, eve/ck pen'ni and wilt ^' *vf * '^' ^^^^^^^ ^«« ^^ a wave ; churched full e7e rSin/areiXtl l^uT' '^"^^'-"^ ^^'^^ ^^ imiversally diffused. If this Sfrom man W " ^ ^'^*^ ''^*^^' ^'^^ ^"« but a saint in his disposiW K ?t t^^^lTlZTX^'-''''' I ''^^'^^ wo have taken him fir. But it is Lom Hd 1 1 .1^ ^ "^ """^ ^^^ ^«^ and prayed for. My American Send wiuli ^^"'"^^'^ *° ^^ d««"'ed church on the subjeo^t. sSytStr^Jil^fhr t^EinT ^^^ ^^ "^^ To the Rev. W. Fleming Stevenson :- « T L-,,^ . ^ . "8e]»tember 27th, 1859 religious earnestness is Hse^a Lnn nv^ ''T"''T''^ ^ct of universal We must sow with all cur4ht^ WhrnTi '^'^ • ^ ^' '"" *^^ **»• '^^^ «s ministers^" ^^ ^^** ""^^"^ * ^«^^^al more than some of 5 11 'ii Uil : !i 1 r ]' CHAPTER XV. 1860—61. AS the next twelve years were the last, so they were the most laborious and most important, of his life. In addition to his onerous pastoral duties, he now accepted the editorship of Good Words. The voluminous correspondence which that office entailed necessarily occupied much of his time ; but, besides numerous minor articles, he contributed to its pages, between 1860 and 1870, "The Gold Thread," " The Old Lieutenant," " Parish Papers," " The Hioh- land Parish," " Cliaracter Sketches," " The Starling," " Eastward," and " Peeps at the Far East." For the aroater part of the same period lie presided over the India Mission of tiie Ohurcli ; and during its course lie had more than once to engage in painful controversies on public questions, which, to a man of his temperament, were more exhausting than tlie hardest work. He had removed during the previous year from Woodlands Terrace to his tuturo home at 2U4, Bath Street ; and liere, as a refuge from interruption, he fitted up a little library over an outside laundry, which was, to the last, his favourite nook tor study. His writing table was placed at a small window which he had opened at a corner ot the room, whero he could enjoy a glimpse of sky over the roofs ot the sur- rounding houses. It was at the best only a spot of lieaven that was visible, but such as it was, it afforded him some refrestiment when, in the midst of his work, lie caught a passing gleam of cloudland. Those who were admitted to this " back study " will remember the quick look with which ho used to turn from his desk to scan his visitor, and +he unfailing heartiness with which, even in his busiest hours, the pen was cast aside, the small meerschaum lighted, and throwing himself on a couch covered with his old travelling buifalo robe, he entered upon the business in hand. But the continual inter- ruptions to wliich he was exposed* and the pressure of literary engage- •Evory forenoon there was quite n levee nt liis lionse, consisting chiefly of the poor eoekiug hia aid on all kinds of business, relevant iiud irrelevant. On these occasions bis valued beadle, Mr. Lawson, acted as nuister of the ceremonies. One day when Nor- man was overwhelnu'd with other work, ond the door-bell seemed never to cease ring- ?iig, some one said, " I believe that bell is poKSf .^-d by an evil snirit," " Certainly, lie iiiibWCTtd, " Don't you know the Prince of evil spirits ie called Bdlz^v^ — froui lii* thuH torturing hard-worked ministers ?" 1860—61. 269 aTdt fet&.'ZltS:Zf:,]^^ '' 7^7 '- ^«^ the „i,ht, j;^ «re ..a..s, his sI^Z^^JS^M ^o^^^SnljS;! J?J^ enterprise and genius as o JS .i ^'^ ^''- ^t^'^'^'^n (to whose success) asked S to become I'.^S' TT'^"^ g^eatly^wed it accept a task involving so ^"'^^ 1^^ ^ * ' ^''^"''^ *^ long cherished the cSt on^ha^ f.S • 'f '""^^'^- ^^<^ ^^« '^^^ the type sketched by Dr Arnli \ff '^?^^',^^ Tf -''''^t^^ ^^l^^'^d of variety of articles as Ce whS livel '^^ '''f'''''' "^^ S''^' '^ tions professedly secidar but wTn ' ff 'f P°P/^l^»'^ty to publica- Christian. The gulf which separS t '^'"'\f''? ^T distinctively secular press wast in liisoplnLTca^^^^^^^^ ''^'^'''^' ^^^ the weakness of even the best^relig Ls Tallc^^^ ZlTu '"^ ^^''^'^ reason for leaving the wholes'ome pZ^er of fioti^fn T'V'' "' ^"°^' questions in physical and social spiC? f .i '.^/le discussion of and fun of life, to serials whTchexoS rF^^l'' '"'^^ ^^^ ^he humour His experience while co^t t nft, e ^^^^^^^^ ^^ '""t ^'^''^ served only to deepen his desire taht.^A Christian Magazine which would take up a manirrate o^^^ aoly wr tten periodical contributions of a diiectlv reliim^« .i ? ' ? ""^ ""^"^^ embracing of articles "on corno7sufer^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ mainl^ decidedly Christian tone/' *^' ^""en," as Arnold said, "with a From his Journal :— m/t7r4'^lf'"^ ^'-'^^^ ^' '^^'^ ' -"-^ -y li^e, my ,piH, life!; s:bLtf xr j:;,TrilT^^^^^^ r *'^^e -^^ ^- ^^ -y wonderfully helped by M out of the .l"^^ f^" '^"'■''' '^"'^ ^'^^'^ ^eeu evening sermoni.dth'^theworWet^^^^^ ''■ / ^^^^ "^^ — » WHS a time of revival, and mv heart lonL f '*'"^"i *^ '''^' *''*'"^'^ i<^ was established for oie, and I nrea^ W ^.f' /"^^ * P»-«yer-meetmg results as to attendance ^r^fc^e^ on '^^^^^^'^'^ longer than usual, thf count for this, except on the sunnos tZ H.r. ^''T'r • } '^"^""^ ^^^ ^'^- this channel has goiie through IZ^Z^^ ^^'^)^i ^^^gH si^j t&;:ssrs ;:r ^''^^^ '^« ^^-^-^ -p-- ^-phicany the i^p... men ofTeSyTlmtTf^l JoiSftyfrr"'""' *" ^''•^^'^^^ 7«». °ne of the greatest jvorking.people'.na„y winte", f u 'o f pureVoirw/l f ^T'^"^, ^" Preachi.rt*'" if the prayers of the poor are of any nVn 1 I'mfn T 1°' ^K''^^ «°°'l "f our souls ; "' " •- .'...'"'.';' .'!■« .'■■'•'>"■■« vry ~ii i..t wi„i„; „,l ,],„ c,,„„i„„. „„ ,1,. r.„ that nJL'lit wh tones of providenL , t'xplained to yourself ^ iu"u, iiiKi Aimiliiiin olfcr nff un lii^ «nn i. „ r ^"'"^"Jn, oi H ij.tii.trus, aiiii Miiitim iind M, " ^'^^ *« ''-»--: to Russia ! '^^^ °* "^y yo"*h, I am suddenly called away it. Vp;ayedXn:X'cf .^^^^^^^^^ T^-n. I .ever sou^^t be His will, and so I go. Wh\t 2t .« T Tf ' v ^^'"^ ^^««^ f«eli«« ^^ ell to work-prayer^for SanTa Tod *' ^•^'"^'' ^"^'« ""^^han a against the work? ^^ance, a good conscience, and no argument so ~Te^:xi'nZ SsteTSJt? f r/^"-^^ -^^* ^- ^-n In December I was summoned by Se™T I ?'''' ^^ ^^' ^^'^-^ •' with her. Lady Bute was almost^s^Se^^^X^^f^^^^^ I found her .i«ter into her ear, repeating suitable teS nf « ' • .^ ^'^® ^«^' a^d spoke stood me, for while I spoke s£ srpteLd '^..^^'^^^ .? ''^''"*^^ "^^^" and then, as I ended, she breamed S?v ^ '\*^"'^ '" ^"^ *« ^^^ten, that dear boy know Gov^- -212 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. church, and, to his astonishment, addressed him in Gaelic. Curiously enough, 1 met three men together at a work — one was from the Barony, tlie second from Campbeltown, the third from Dalkeith. "I preached the night before last on the top of a gas meter to about forty. Most of the people were from Glasgow. It was a queer sight. I sung the Psalms — no seats or books ; lots of Russian workmen stood armind to hear the Scota 'pope' — as the priests are called. ' My heart is full,' said a Scotch woman, taking my hand, ' I canria. S{x.;it " I spent three hours in St. Isaac's ol> isumiay ; got my pocket picked. The service was beyond all measui-e tiiesomo. Crov/ds of priests Avith the jVIetropolitan at their head — most magnificent dresses. Chanting beautifu' voices exquisite, but vast sameness. It lasted three hour.s, and was foUowea by the kissing of the Cross and the Bible, »kc. It would take pages to give you an idea of what is not worth knowing. It is externally worse than Rome. Russian life I cannot see. I know no more than yoii do of the country." "Sweden, August, .31. "I am here in a station on the railway, by the margin of a wild High- land Loch, having come out to visit a few Scotchmen. I left St. Petersburg on Tuesday week, without any regret, never wishing again to visit that slow, big, ill-paved, drosky-thumped, expensive capital. " Thank God, there are, however, signs of life everywhere. Thousands of the Scriptux-es are being cu-culated in Russia. Gospel preaching is heard in Finland, and in Sweden. The dry bones are everywhere stirring, though the breath has come to a few only. " The system of the Cliurch in Sweden is quite perfect of its kind. No dissent is permitted. Every child is educated. All must be confirmed, and thoroughly taught, and examined in the small and larger catechism. Every one before getting a situation, even a servant, must produce a certificate in which is marked the number of times and the last, in which he has com- municated. There is probably not a person, the vilest, who has not such. What is the result 1 formality, deadness, and an immense amount of corrup- tion. The longer I live the more I am convinced that the more perfect the government, the hiss it should interfere with religion. If men won't do right because it is right, what is the good of it 1 Give me freedom with all its risks." On his return from Russia his attention was directed to a speech made by a distinguished and much respected professor iu a Scotch University, a keen advocate of Total Abstinence, wlio had taken Dr. Macleod's tract, " Plea for Temperance," as his text at a meeting of the League, held in Glasgow. To Professor : — "Glasgow, I860, ". . . I am not in the habit of taking notice of all the 'hard speeches which had been uttered against me by violent and unscnipuloug abstainers. There are, I rejoice to know, among teetotalers very many persons whom I highly respect for their own and for their work's sake, and many intimate 1860—61. and dear friends with -,)) ^f i. ^^^ according to my given ] Lf ^^T ^ ^"^ Sl^<^ *« co-operate in r. that there is a^Coni Ihem''^ Tk^^^^^^^ convSt fii T ^"^' pride of power wy,;-,i. * ,.' ^ ^^bble of intemnpmf^ "* ^ protest cover of Il^rcWe^Tf^^^^ *^^"^ ^« "^^n^^flteS ^^^^"Wm the the timid and to i ^^P^^^^'"'^ of self-sacrifice for ?hf Vr*^®' ^^^ "^der their views of duty and t. 1^", minister, who presume! 7 r^*''^ ^^e"* threats anddesSf? • ° ''?'''* *^<^ir demands or w^?? ° '^'''^^* ^om "■ - . Yes I f)„-r,T, gentleman liJce you « dearer to me thanl fe T^ """""S *'"' ™kin^ k"«"r''''''«^' »■«< justify your remaS'*- J ^f* ?°» '° P~" X iTon7"-':?'"« m your speech -^t,^ „ f^ ^y writings moro fnii,,li, ^^^' *^^d to not ask /ou to 'xpl^T Jt^P"^^^Pl«« t^an thot Jf t^r" ^^^^«^«^e their harmony wfthS? /'^"^'^ ^^^ 'principles' of totaL^.•^'^^""• ^ ^o present state Jfrdety"^trk"' H -P^d-L^'as !^^^^^^^^^^ *<> «how for granted R,!/ i"^! ir"^^ *^^s I am willing fLT ^ ^*^*^o^ m the that^hf;ieiplt 1:* ^ ^^"^^^ '^ ^ -S lorn ySrT^^'f ^-^^'^^ *«> take tract is in^St w^h?nyTtf ' *.^ ^P^^'^*' -TnJ one'S !> '^ -P^'^^^ cognise as 'the only Tule oT/-?i'^^*^'"^« ^^ the Word of ro/ ^^^^^^^.^^y to justify yoursplf fn ^'''*^^ ^"^ "lorals.' Nav 11 ?^' ^^'""^ ^ ^e- waiTantedZtnV^'-^'^*'."^^ teaching to be s^^'i^r ^•^.*'°"^^' ^^^o^'der foe oftemp^:^^^^^ l^a-e Vone andTnTn ^^^^ '' *« ^--« vicious habits nlw ^ *'^'* ^' calculated t^ confil^'^^^'"' ^« "P as a this simpfe the'me^'^,r"' ''''^' t^"^P«''ally and ete^nr^" p'''^ ^^ *^«ir languagi, and w S. truthfZ V •* ""^ ^'^-P*"^' ste b "Sde ''J ^'^^ *^ Bible and traoT in ,'''''*'•''«'«' Point out the nL? '•''"^ ^^ «^ear Wherein Ll- 7r'', P'^^^P^^^ or spir t whT ""^'^'^^^^^ "^^^^een tionanddelncifti^nort'"^'^^^-'-^^^^^^^ ''^^ '^^'^-^ commendation to all Z,t?T«"f drunkenness ? Is it i'* '"' "^^ "^P««i- case? Is it mv f .1 "^i.^^^ards to adopt total absfcinln ^ ""^ "''g^nt re- -hich in etS w Sr' *^f ^-P-ate ust XSsl^^^^^^ ^^ ^^-^ -Is tSllpt^li? -^'S^li;^^ - ^^« SeTil^I^^' -^^^^^^ ^0 tiie Same :~ ^^.^^. w.. .™,, 'Wand — -»^-- ™™^^ ^^ V 1 i^:i.| I I i T« l! II' ' It i Hi; *3 i'll 274 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. \\- ! the League, are galloping fast and furious in the same heat. You allude also to what you are pleased to call my remarkable speech in the General Assembly of '59, as calculated to increase the danger of my teaching as given in the tract. I remember the speech well. My remarks made on that oc- casion with reference to the reformation of the working classes, proposed by total abstainers from alcohol and tobacco, were a mere episode in a very long speech on a great subject, and were not premeditated. They were published also in newspapers in a separate shape, and unconnected with the speech of which they formed a vary unimportant part. For some time they were a common and favourite target for the fieiy darts of total abstainers. Your allusion to them afibrds me an opportunity of stating that after mature deliberation I see nothing in them to regi-et or retract. It is stUl my belief that we must apply (and in this you will agree with me) the same principles in seeking to Christianize the habits of rich and popr ; for, to use a vulgar but expressive simile, 'what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.' Since I do not therefore feel myself justified, in the General Assembly or out of it, in condemning the rich man for drinking his glass of wine after dinner, or even for smoking his cigar (to the horror of the excellent Dean of Carlisle) after breakfast, neither can I, without hypocrisy or impertinence, condemn the working man, who has fewer sources of physical gratification, for taking his glass of beer, or smoking his pipe if so disposed, at his humble fireside. It is not my special province to recommend either ; yet neither aip I called upon as a Christian ministw to condemn either. But I am not ashamed to confess that I would 'recommend' the working man who was disposed to take his beer, to do so at his own fireside, if I thereby helped to keep him from whiskey, above all from ti»e terrible temptations of the pub- lichouse. All this I expressed ia the hearing of our friend Dr. Guthrie, upon oath to Her Majesty's Commis8ielieving this, I have humbly endeavoured honestly to keep my fellow men in accordance with what seems to me to be the will of God. Hence I have not contented myself with always protesting against a positive evil, but have also declared in favour of its opposite good, that so God's mercies may the more gladly be accepted and appreciated, and the devil's perversion of them be the more readily rejected and detested. " What I have done may He within Himself make pure ! " One word more before bringing this correspondence to a close. It is a very painful thing for me to be ever and anon forced into the position of even appearing to be an enemy to total abstainers and their work. Because I have written a tract with heart, will, and strength against drunkenness. 3U allude i General J as given a that oc- )posed by very long published speech of sy were a rs. Your r mature my belief principles ) a vulgar e gander.' sembly or dne after it Dean of ertinence, .tification, is humble either aip I am not I who was helped to [' the pub- Guthrie, nth refei'- ly believe is to help Lch ignore 5ntal, and se, and in sir promo- ructive of becoming 1 through ay item of be whole, ellow men ice I have , but have s may the n of them e. It is a position of . Because inkennesa. I8(i0— 61. ««l striven eamestir with « «ni ^^^ n the sametate? Jf ??' ^"^ ^ ^^«P« ^^th^ eater L^" '"'"^^' ^^ *hose you know iti. n!f -^ ^^""^ spoken or written Tni,^^''' ^''^ labouring only in public buMn- ^^'''''''y ^^ *te fJiatica! Zf- ^^ T''^> ^''^ o^^J ' • -^^ ''^^ °f charity/to W T ^^^'^ ^' ^^^^e who • Do let us have aCp?^5 "-"^ «^^f-»««^ng phmntW "'\^°°^°^«^ «^«e! ^'■ndness, whLh^^f;!'^ ^ ^^'hose ChHstlfv XtT'^*^^^^^ ^^rench wine. P^IT w>,"' "" ^^'^^""«r and happier £'*'''' '"^^^^^ ^"^ ;^o^ by any ^ectTZtTT^^^^^^ ^IJ monSSrof'pl"",^"^^, *^.i« that it is a vo„,, ^- -^^ ^* *he same time T ow. -u- P^^^^^PJe and wis- Jht^^ ^"joyed here ten days of Pvf ,"^''°'^''' ^'^'''^ry 22. 186I. letters, andS j!. ^ ^'''^"* o«e pound T j,'. ^''')^^ ^^^^ ^ ton of on me.' '° ^ ^^*"^- -^^h a load of Ck off n J' and Tl"'? f'^'^'y-^^^ ^ "I hav» been readin. MoC^ '' "' ^^"*^*"^^ • ^''"'"'^»'-., fiftieth ,ea.-l„,f,,,„.„^„y, ;r j- 8i ,| 276 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 1 11 if i it ' \. ciety of London won't recommend it. They don't think * Wee Davie' * — my dear wee mannie ! — sufficiently up to the mark of piety, because it omits important truth — ^just as St. James's Epistle and various other books of the Bible do ! From my heart I regret this, because I believe it is the fushionkss, unreal, untruthful, pious' story -telling, which some of our ti-act societies alone patronize, that has produced the story-telling without piety, but with more truth and more trash, which is devoured by the working classes. Now, I have a purpose — a serious, solemn purpose— in Good Words. I wish in this peculiar department of my ministerial work to which I have been * called,' and in which I think I have beon blessed, ' to become all things to all men, that I might by all means gain some.' I can- not, therefore, write stories merely as a literary man, to give amusement, or as works of art only, but must always keep before me the one end of leading souls to know and love God. Most popular stories are based on the natui'al ; the finest characters are assumed to have been the growth of the old man, at all events, to have been irrespective cf any knowledge or recog- nition of Christ. Now, I believe, in my soul, that all which one discovers of out-and-out g<-'A among men, really and truly, is ever found, as a fact, to have arisen froni the recognition of the supernatural, — a power coming to the soul through Jesus Christ. Therefore, I must make this the open and con- fessed source of strength in my characters, because I find it in society as well as in the Bible. But, again, in writing sketches of character, I must also give that mixture of clay which all of us have, and express the inner life in print, just as I see it expressed in actual life ; and I am bold enough to assert that my life-sketches are truer far as tracts than those productions are, which make working-men, ay, young children, speak like Eastern patri- archs or old apostles. I may be wrong in my idea as to how Good Words should be conducted, and I cannot, of course, I'ealize it as I wish to do, but I have a purpose which I believe to be right, and can therefore pray to Christ to bless it ; and can also liumbly, but firmly, go ahead, whatever the religious world may say. I know that I seek so to conduct it that I would not be ashamed to have it beside me on my death-bed. If it is not pleasing to Christ, from my soul I desire that He may bring it to nought." jTo Miss Margaret Campbell : — "February 1861. "I am going to finish 'Ned Fleming.' f I always have your brother Dugald before me as my hero — Ahi Memoria ! How are \\wy gone, ' the old familiar faces !' Yet they are immortal in memory. Those Campbel- town times and these old companions have had an immense inlluenco on my life. The code of honour which emanated from your father's roof I always lecognized as one of the great powers which have helped to build mo up to what I am. Wo never told a lie ! Yes, once, when we bi'oko Boll Fisher's crocks I Innocent souls !" To J. M. Ludlow, Esq. :— .< ^1/^,.^^ jg^ jg^ji^ " The articles ui)on the Deaconesses in Good. Words seem to prepare the • " Wee Diivio" was writton in his brother DonaM'a Manao at Tjaudcr, during a snow storm, and WIS liuished after two sittings When Js'ornian tried, on its completion, to read it aloud, he was muro than once t,o choked with tears that he had tu lay it down. t In tho "Oid Lieutenant." 1860—61. 277 ^^^^:^V'i:t^t^^^ the useful upon that most useful class of wL W ^ ^^f *'' ^^^^ ^^'^^ ^i«^« that you are writing for John sS ^nS t ' "^^ ^'^" ^«"«^' remember after a tea-dinner at 6 o'clock Jol n indL;' 7f ' "t^ ^"^ 'P^^^' ^^ «*-»'«. starry heavens, and Mrs Smi/h « ^rf^^''^ *^ *^« movements of the «-.nk „i- tW (if yl't^-Z t^'^Z^;Zii^.:^^^' "'°*""- ^^ Miss Keddi., on the loss of her Sister:- " It must be very terrible I Th. ^ '.'^°f^^^^^ ^^^«^' ^''''cA 17, 1861. ness amidst the crowd and even tmidT Hi ' ^^''^V^-^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^i" meaning to you, 'I am not alone foT^he flT-" ^!,TP''^^^" ^' ^"" °f the universe would have beenTSi dernlc^ w- 'I ^^^ ""^ ' "^^t ^^^ that, are too coarse to meddle wth The fine .*? '^^71 ^"^ ^"^^^ ^^^^ds and confuse oftenor than wrhtmoni.el^ r'^ ""i *^^" ^P^'^*- ^e break with what wisdom, patience teXne' Tn/r;' , ^"'. ^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^ ! and ery it would be if our socTal Sb 1 ?1 • ? "^7 }T ' ^^' ^^^^^^ a mock- tere. Very soon you S you ' ^ster wil """"^f ^'T '. ^' ^'^'^^^ ^'Sins old times, you may be able to praise J. ll''^ ^"^.^^^" ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^er aark and trying. Most certahH T. Il Tn^^^^^^ ^"" this time, now so on Him, truest Him and S Hi fk nSn^" J^ "t *"^'^' "^'^^ ^'^ ^^'^ struments more tit to glorify Him." ^ ' '" P""^-^ "«' ^^^ make us in- "My beloved Parents,— "'^««« 3, 1861. ing their S™ T^'^wfit't Godf "f ^T^"°^•^« ^^^ -*- greattst mercies in a life wlXh has befn Jl ^^^nowledge that one of the possess such inuents, ;md tlmt t lev h wp / '""*^'^"f "^^^^'^y, i^as been to through the wilderness fo neaHy h if a o^^^^^ «l'arod to joi^rney with me has always been a constant iSt of W ? , ■^' ^"^ *^''* ^^'^^^ P^-e«ence deeply do I appreciate t fines ,nlbSlZ'^' T^''' v ''''' '^''^'''^'^- ^'^^'^^ their children's children """'* '"'^^^^ ''I'^^^'ng thus bestowed on me and on ing old age with one's . .vnt' i U ?„ 1 "' f '' '^'' '""'^^^ «^ ^"tm- your last, as I Juve h.^ y^'l^^y"^' f, ^^1'''^ ^'^"- ^^^^ '"« ^"^v« and that, as a man with inmmeraWe IZl'^ ^t*"''^ *"'^^ '">' '^'^''i'^g. true an.l loyal to the best (,rMasters '''''^'*'"""»'«' ^ '^^"X P^'ove in the mail; j^^;;^Full of awe and thanksgivings for my mercies and full of love to you " ^ *™ y^'"' d«vote,l au.l affectionate first-born." To J. Id. Ludlow, Esq. :— " Comfort me bv ^.nUt^^ ^„ v-,, • ^"^'"'' **•** . n^ me. Yuur genuine goodness, forbearance, and J I 'I Mi i ; : I M 278 lIFi: OF NORMAN MACLEOD. forgiving-heartedness, give me positive pain and make me hate mvself to zs l; DXl-^^a Dogis." ^"'°" '^ "^ ^°- ' ™ --^^ ''You know why the town clerk of Dunfermline called the Provost doa- Zr ^.wT ^;^^^ sot so cross in a^ argument abouH Kbfe doctrine, that he bUed wy ihoomhl' ofhlii^LoV^/ ""^^ f^^^^ '\ ^ ^^''^ ^^*^""S whatever to say against any room fori 1 Tlf "."'"'"^ "t^ '''^' '''''' ^^^^"^ ^^^^ "^^ °^^ There is room for aU. I buy twu .r three penny papers now instead of one. So is It with cheap magazines, f good. beW ir" Fi'tht'r^r- '^' '''^^^ ?^'f ^^"">' *« ^*' ^ I know it and I h.v« %. fw / .^ "'u'^'! u^' ^'"' ^ ^°"^^^ ^'^^- Therefore so long as I have Good Words ther shall be 'preaching' in it, direct or indirect Ind no shame, or sham, about -,. This, along with my secularity. wil keeoT so fw, distinct from othei .periodicals. ^miiiy, wiii Keep it, littl Jltllow M^^ '''*'f * '-' ^'"J'^* ^^''y ^° ^''^ ^*y- ' ^V«« Davie,' poor ittle fellow ! leaves out several doctrines. They say that the expression "I have pubMicl with many corrections, my scmon (not story) of Woo yo the Rev. W. F. Stevens.n :~ " TlGH-NA-BRUACH, KyLES OF BUTE, AuQUSt 14, 1861. " I must try a volume of addresses to the working classes, or ' Baronv bermons. * The spnut and teaching of the Alagazine form a constant sub- ject ot anxiety I want to uitone all its servicee more with the direct Ohris- tian spirit, and shall do so, or give it up. r-i "-^r *°iv'''^' *¥'■ '*''?'^ '^ "" ''^''^^^"^ '^^^'"»' ^'*h me. I wish to show the Cju-istian life working ,n a boy placed in rather trying cii-cumstancos, and becoming stronger througji fall, an.i trials-to illustrate, in short, a Jifo begun, like hat o many, in the secret recesses of early life, and disciplined by Christ through a long course of years. I don't find the process, as descnl,ed in most 'evan^.-Ii,-al' tracts, by which many men become at ast Htn.,1^ in Christ, to be true to life .is I see it, so that good bovsin tractsare not ike those I Imve ever met with-Ne ""«* was most cordial in her thanks 1 u t lo' o for/l"'' '^T' ^^",* *'"^ ^""«" me to return next y.ar. So I mu in I h "T' '"T' '"^'' ^<>">n»an,lo,i ar more than I could bdiov. 1^1 ,j> '''" hope that it was ble.s,sed in the evening for Anderso;.: '' '^1 1 '" \';:^ T'I/^'T ^ P''^*^'-"' charming evening. I had a 1.,,.. STJ^. T ,^ '^.*'"' «"'' «Pent really a -„^ ._.„ „,,,. ^^^. lugusttt Bruce during 1 I I I >: II. "ii.1,1 *'''"~'"""»N*'ii'rti'iii'iiiri'ii I'!* il 280 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. tl It '.r n T''^ T^^ ^^'^"^ ^^' '^^^^^ ^^^ ^«^th of that noble, lov- rf.l W ' ^^»^l^«f of Kent, and of the Queen's giief. She was a most S^n"^r?f ^'''^"'\' I ^^' ^''^ P^^^^^*«^ ^y *^« Q"«e^ ^ith a delightful vokme of hymns which her mother was fond of The Queen's distress was deep an very bitter, but in every respect such as a daughter ought to feel The suddenness-unexpected by even Sir J. Clarke-of course shocked her. ^JTT- ^^^« P^ef P^-i«cess Alice and hev Jianc6, Prince Louis of f sat bp?rT ^'il?^'^' ?" ^^^^^^'^ half.siste.-an admirable woman. I sat beside Prince Altred, a fine, gentlemanly sailor. We had lots of talk. wr+l. P^-"" n ^ ""°'* interesting conversation, about half an hour, w^t a ^'"""^ vT'"'*' ^.''^ * S""'^ ^°^S '^^e ^^^ the Queen. In short it was a most agreeable evening." From his Journal :— this fa?/ wJff ff J^^^-~'^^^ ^^PP^^'* ^'"^^ ^ ^^^« ^^^^ y«* ^* E'^l'^oral was this last with the dear good Prince, whom I truly mourn. frnm T !^ A ■' 1^^^^ ^"^ ^""^""^ ^<'*' ^^^ "^*^o^ ' I have received a letter Irom Lady Augusta Bruce, which is very delightful, although sad." ff? I 11: I «r J CHAPTER XVI, 1862—63. Christ. Thechamctero (fodSS^^^^^ f ^^ P"^P«^^ of God in article of his creed, but there were wS. ^^^I'^^^l^'-^y^ ^een the central his keen sympathies were conSlv ph r'^^^''^'^^^',"^'^^ ^"*o which atonement of Christ much ^.^JosL fi, ?h"^ ^ " P' ^"^J^^t of the been long familiar w^Tthe viorhe Id Tt^^^ T^ "^'^^^'^ ^^ '^^^ Dr. J. Macleod Campbell hlnovt 7.La .f '^^^""^ ^•>^ ^"« ^o^sin, adopted them more ^fully "Z'nrTff """ ^^^l^ ^'^" "^^'-^"^"^ ^"^ shed a light on the natifre of cVr^t? suE '^'- 1"'^ ^^^^^ ^^ away, because sprinoin^ out of tlpf.! ^^^ "'&«' ^^ich cannot pass afterwards have diver^e^ n re^ Lf ^^^^ "'^'"^ ^^ ^^"»g«-" He inay Campbell taught him Init he cl^^ilvT' """^r points, from what tion of the sufferings oi our W n i^ T^ /''?'''^ ^^ the concep- natureof salvation'^ which it T^^^^^^^^ *'';^^^ notions oi' the been shed on the purfTo e of Ld in Si.^ Y'^T^ "^^X ^?'^' ^'^'' ^^^^ flew regions of thought. "'^ ^'^ advanced hopefully into From his Journal :— deeply God is _. tlie pulpit more and moi-e and fin.rifT" ""'"'« ""*-''*^. "*st n^w years leniov «t"ek in the bonds of Chri;^!! n 1 ^*' "7 '^'""^^ "^ in'oportion us I of the rest in Him. iCl^Z t,t «'^^^'' ^'^ *« "^'^^e oiheZ-s partakers during the Snndays wlucl nrecolrrf 1 " '" ^''' '° ^^''^'"'^'^''''^ ^^ «Pi"^ as Sunday itself, in iLu it^ tt l in '"'"'"""^^^ f.^^ on the con/nunuon of it by „.y beloved JohnlCu.boll A«T"*' 't"''""^ '" *^^« ^'^^^ ^akon mVBelf, I can declare Hib re ip n u-l.n I " "' ^ ''"' "^'"'^"^''^^ ^^ l^""'-'""'? «arnoBt prayer, patient readiw " Vrj' "'" *™'^'' that 1 sou^l.t l.^ win with reference to ClSi'^/,- Tl t""' *° '^«^' GfoJ'« revealed or h3ss occupi,.fl my thru^Jits fr^ ^^ .« .1,''? '"'''' * subject wlu.-h has more to be carried away bv rJ^^l^^^^Ji-rr f^"^ "'^'^^'^f' ^ t^""!^. to posses:, it; ibr Heeinr(.s, • t a v) t ^ ^""^ ^""'f'K '"^ ''' ^^ <"'^^ «« preached what 1 saw .n.f ^.L;^:'!^!,, ^ ,::;';n- f J .^ilTfl^ ^^^^^ P: i:i' ! .. t I t I' 11 282 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD I I I I If It bel«,ve in Him as their sLviouranXeause ^.^'^ commands all men to to be saved, U, to be holy like iSself Rn^irrT"'^^ ^^''''' ^" ^^n the philosophy of the at^Lment ^r tf .f f • ^ ''^''^^ ^^^^^ «ee was constituted the atonemen . S e ^1 metifor? ^ ^^"^*'« ^'^^^ which eal od 'the Battle of the ^ttribS aTn^.l^^'^^^'r^ ^* (commonly and so satisfying divine justic*! could no^^^^^^^^^^ ^"^'« ^^^h, and rejoice in as true. So I ^^'s disnosed to T Tu"^\ ^"* "^"^-^ ^o* see a mystevy-a fax^t, rev.aJed aTthf S of 0.^7 *^ir^^^^ ^^^S to remain needed and thankfully received, but Sout«nv'' ^^'''^^^' whichlfelt I feen between what Christ did Ld what f^l^^ T''^^'^ ^'^^^ection being IS dawning on me, and what I set now can ^ ' t2"S*^^"^ ^< t^if -, for conscience has its Crnor^r^ZZ^^l^^^:^ ^^'or. ^^^^^^^^^l^^^T^^^ "Old Lieutenant," defective structure of tlT ory bu?U ' '''\^"\*' ^™<^ ^^^4 when some of the reviewrAvE PHt,v '? '''^^^"^^ disappointed to discover its aim and to recolnS^^^^^^^^^ ^f respected, failed real hfe. Indeed, so disheartened was he bvfr'^''\-P°'*^"^^^ ^^^^^ serious attempt in the domain of fiction th.f''P*''^?^^"' ^''^ resolved it should be the last. ' '^^' ^^^ ^ ^^^^e, he was To J. M. Ludlow, Esq. :_ "What I should HIta vn„ +^ j -.i "-^^y. 1862. to correct the Scoth o^ SttttrforT; ""'' '^""*^"^"*' ^^^^^ ^«-(l) draw your pen through any sen eni oT/v '' ""*' **"^''* ^"g^i^h ; (2) to m. As for the ' 'igh* hart/ TtmrremaTn !»":"; ^ "^"^^^, '^"^^ «"* *hau line. : know I am ffettin^ intnTfl^] nuhibus, as ' low hart ' is my lishing it. "^'"'"^ "'^^ ^ ^^'^'-f"! "less among the critics for pub! moItUriSl'arwayr^^^^ ^j'- ! I had to write it from absurd to write a stor;, a I Tnt iSH? \^'';1^ '^^ ''• ^' '^ "^^^^^^ stead of preaching by it But I kncH i^ t ' T *^'^ Pre^ching in it, in- to nature, for they /ere all as li W b^t ' wir*'^'' "" P""^"'^^ "^"^ ^^ue no one that does not stand on hi^ own leS rrl„nrT'^.T,' ^'^^^ ^^'^'^ « mth ray whole soul and strcncrth tbTt tbf t f, , • ''^ ^"'^ ^"'^ ^^^o^. I deny true that whatever man asks for in nraver C^^ •' ''"'^"'^^tV- It is not asks t. The reviewer does il trJ tT. Poi^'^^V? "^'/^™ '" ^J"«'» h« trust in God for wjiatovor Godlives tL ''' V'"", • ^ "^""^^ ^^ ^^^^^ * ior some specific ble,si„g. And what d^d T"^" ^" /'""^^ *^"^ ^* ^« *'•"««> wite? I tried to picture a Kd nl ? ^ T ^^"^ *'^«'' ^«*' except hia honest fellow, trained up sonsillv ,?n I •"' "" T'^^ ^'^^' '^ ^^tliodist-a goo may live, and'as n.any do' CtnoCdliritl '"""'' ""'' ^-^ ^-ng-ai blackguards, or perfect ^^77^'^"T''T:^!:!'T'^''^-^i^^er real hf. though not perhaps a.- 1 Jdonirw-n"' '***•/ f^^^*"''^ ^^ -.:* I doa't know the sea! 1 JTl mot hilr "^'"'""''- , ^^ ^^'^ ""tic ^.... . .hat .ho ...,.,r of sea of,:j^ni in I^^ /^^^ J^^^^ ^••^i. 1863—63. 283 ^otheRev.W. F.Stevenson:- " I am pretty well convinced from fT.. • " ^'^"^"" ^' ^^^2. £%fri?trccr.:inn^/''? ^-^^ *- =- the Ih T\ f <* '««' •"="" profoundly mo;.rf f t?"* 7'" >'™moned to whom he had regarded as «an S of alHll ?^ *" ''<'•■'"' °f 'l'" Prince, and w,se;" and from the confiSe S' ! • .P'r, *'"*''«1' ""^dfish d£f„rtts at^Su7td"trir,7o/';r^#™°, ^-o™'' "f ■» harmony witl, the reticence hno?, ,'"^ ^"^1 family, it is in extracts as may indicateXconfljt^^l "^T"', '° »"'"^ ™'y "■ '' of his services. "uuence reposed m him, and the loyalty ent«ned.'''.wi°fl1,,*,: ?::'ayr"f'y which these duties hstoiy of the world, and tXt chats, :' of princes affects th 2,r "■'■' '"y' ""'' I'y the spirit n St "'"y P^'^'My ^ affected •S,"''"", 1i"° ''« ver/soIem„ " "■' ^ '"'='''' "'"^ ■•«'. I feel the family, whZl^trfnSS;';: -' 1'" ? ^i™"""- -">'^« "f the Prmce, ■' that J am liere as a pas or Id ,?."''"' ""•''' "'« death of the permitted to address you. Ct '' t"^-' "" " '■- "■ '." « a p.astor i ,,„' mee hefore God, so .4ld I add oi ™ 'nr»'" ''"^^ ""^ "''» "« i am never toTnnfn.i » i, «^*< -^s you now. the Queen, for I'S",'' sj nSS; 1° rT"' »"^ ---♦- 6™ apeaker to utter the truth eLc'% Thetue*!!^ "™' "" '*'' "'" ^'•cmhis JouKNAL :— i^ou.^.tuul.y ;nmiv"""""'^' '^ *^^« Q-- *o visit at Balmornl ^ rn^rifz:;:!'^::^;^ ^z ;:r i^-r^^ ^--* ^^— no., nn^ My hopo i,s i„ Him uml H, J' /'"* '^"''' ^'h> callsmo, will ,5 gjudemeto «,,euk to her fi t ^^tT sT ''"' "" ^^^ "^"""- ^^ ay i e faumamty. a Queen with heavy: h ea y t ial ' m ""T"'"^' '"^•"^' "^ ^'^^^^ « /, ntavy tual« to en.lure, an.J such duties to ■ I x « r^ N I H 1 ^ ^<"- i ■ ll 284 IIFH OF NORMAN MACLEOD. \ i^ I ' » - I Hi'! perform ! May I be kept in a right spirit, loving, peaceful, truthful, wise, and sympathizing, carrying the burden of her who is my sister in Christ and my Sovereign. Father ! Speak Dy me !" To Mrs. Macleod : — "Balmoral, May 12, 1862. " You will return thanks -v. 'th me to our Father in Heaven for His mercy and goodness in having hitherto most surely guided me during this time which I felt to be a most solemn and important era in my life. All has passed well— that is to say, God enabled me to speak in private and in public to the Queen in such a way as seemed to me to be truth, the truth in God's sight: that which I believed she needed, though I felt it would be very trying to her spirit to receive it. And what fills me with deepest thanksgiving is, that she has received it, and written to me such a kind tender letter of thanks for it, which shall be treasured in my heart while I live. " Prince Alfred sent for me last night to see him before going away. Thank God I spoke fully and frankly to him— we were alone— of his diffi- culties, temptations, and of his father's example ; what the nation expected of him ; how, if he did God's will, good and able men would rally round him ; how, if he became selfish, a selfish set of flatterers would truckle to him and ruin him, while caring only for themselves. He thanked me for all I said, and wished me to travel with him to-day to Aberdeen, but the Queen wishes to see me again. I am so thankful to have the Duke of Argyll and my dear fi-iend Lady Augusta Bruce here. The Duchess of Athole also — a most delightful, real woman." From his Journal ; — " May U^A.— Let me, if possible, recall some of the incidents of these few days at Balmoral, which in after years I may read with interest, when memory gi'ows dim " After dinner I was summoned unexpectedly to the Queen's room. She was alone. She met me, and with an unutterably sad expression which filled my eyes with tears, at once began to speak about the Prince. It is impossible for me to recall distinctly the sequence or substance of that lono- conversation. She spoke of his excellencies— his love, his cheerfulness, how he was everything to her ; how all now on earth seemed dead to her. She said she never shut her eyes to trial, but liked to look them in the face; how she would never shrink from duty, but that all was at present done niechanically ; that her iiighest ideas of purity and love were obtained from him, and that God could not be displeased with her love. But there was nothing morbid in her grief. I spoke freely to her about all I felt regarding him — the love of the nation and their sympathy ; and took every opportunity of bringing before her the reality of God's love and sympathy, her noble calling as a Queen, the value of her life to the nation, the blessedness of prayer. " Sunday.the whole household. Queen, and Royal Fan.ily were assembled at 10.15. A temp4>rary puli)it was erected. I began with a short prayer, then read Job xxiii., P.salm xlii., beginning and end of John xiv. and end of Revelations vij. After the Lord's Prayer I expounded Hebrew* 1862—63. 285 XT*. 1-12, and concluded with nravpr Tlio -«ri,^i„ hour. I then at 12 preached at Sathipn. .^,^f J «.^r^^<^« ^as less than an eveningat Crathie on^'Twake tho,^^^^^^^^^ T/. '" *^« both services. sieepest. TJie household attended thing. Sie of course ,;:L'ro1lL'tboe Sht 1" ? ,t?l ''7'"-'^ '"^ ;;l saw also the Princesses Alice and Helena; each by herself mou.trtrolTs::i^lTe;ern'^ « -path/ I W for these them His own dear chS^n ^ ^^ ^°' *^'^ *^^* ^^'^ ^^^^^ ^ake deer, the «V«^ru™Ie o^re^^t tjr"'^-,*^" ^'''' '^'^^'^'> ^^^ ^^^rds of amelled gras^ so Vxt er L of t^^^^^^^^^^ '" ^^^• ^^^^ *^^ ^- what a glorious revelation of Pn? f f ', ^ ^larvellous lights ? Oh ''The^morelStruftL^^^^^^^^ the Queen said to me about hL on MSd^v^^J^^^^^^^ T'.'-f'^ ^^^"* to comprehend a selfish character or whit 7i'« l ^ '"''f"^ ^'"^ ^°<^ ^«°^ ever d^y his public life is revealed to 1^0 ^ T^f '^t • ^""^ °^ "^-*- recognized. revealed to the world, I feel certain this will be thrR-ncttS-relTthe oTX tS tXl""^ °'''''^ '™*"^"' "' Um,vas, .Iams„„.y f„,. fJalZSit'^TlIZtZ^nr'''-^ ,u,od one whom he so m,,ch loved and admired. ' "«" '"■ were afterwards vecovdedTGiTwort^ impressions of Italy To his Father :— ,, " Florence, /iect, it is as heaven toXf I w1,L ^° '""'°"?, """"7 ■ y<^'' '" » l"="*r "I preached tat Zly Pi-ltJ tiZT v'^"''^ ^''''' t"- '°"*» "• or can be done. God alo,fe cal^" 5^^™ S cZtv H„'° '? f'"« not, nor can see. All is beautiful Ll gran^wf ml" anThis ^Tals ■" "" T'J his Father and Mother .-— uTU^. , T . "^^^^^^AGOTORn, Sunday, June 15. Rambhng Notes of a Ramb'. in Italr. "-Ooocl Words. 1862. I ii 1 HI E;:; I '' ! 28G LIFE OF NOMMAN MACLEOD. and majestic grandeur I admire our own Highlands mosi, but for surpass, mg and majestic beauty, this. "I preaclied in the Heckla steamer to the Jack Tars on Sunday last Campsie men and Glasgow men were on board. It was a pleasant day. Ihe glory of Venice cannot be imagined. " Baveno, Sunday evening.— We crossed the lake to-day, and have had a nice service I read the Lit-rgy and preached. We had a delightful walk through the vineyards, and enjoyed the snowy Alps in the distance." To A. Strahan, Esq. :- «« Monastery of the Great St. Berxard, Jwnc2l, 1862. "Ere I bid farewell to the world, I wish to bid farewell to thee. I have resolved to join the Brothers of St. Bernard. All is arranged. I find that they never heard of Presbyterianism, Free, or IT. P. Kirk; know nothing even ot Dr. - — - or Dr. , and have kept up service here, helping the poor and needy, for 800 years. 1 find I can live here for nothing, never preach, but only chant Latin prayers ; that they never attend public meet- ings never go to Exeter Hall, nor to a General Assemblv, but attond to the big dogs and the travellers of all nations. In short, it i"s the very place for me and I have craved admission, and hope to be received to-night. I shall be known henceforth as Frater Flemingus. (I think I owe it to the Cap- tain to adopt his name.) My wife goes to a nunnery ; I leave my children to your care-31 to you and 3^ to Isbister. Farewell, best of men and of publishers ! Farewell, Isbister, best of men and of smokers. Farewell, Good Words ! Farewell, the world and all its vanities ! I was inter- rupted at this point by a procession of monks, who came to strip me of my worldly garments, and to prescribe the vows. Befine changing garments 1 enquired about the vows. Judge of my amazement in finding I must re- nounce cigars for ever ! I pause f u ^'^iT^ ^'^n' 22'5^.— The monks won't give in. The weather is fear- tuJiy cold. No fires m the cells. The dogs are mangy. "3 A.M.— I am half-dead with cold. I shan't lie m the morgue. I re- pent ! ° " 6 A.M.— Off for London ! Hurrah ! " Te Mrs. Macleou : — "August IB, 1862. I had a delightful visit from Stanley. He is a noble specimen of the Christian gentleman and scholar. When I come into close contact with such men as he, John Campbell, Erskine, Scott, Maurice, Davies, Ludlow, Huohes, 1 teel how I could enjoy heaven with them. Whether it is my defect or theirs 1 know not, but the narrow, exclusive, hard hyj.er-Calvinistic schools repel me and make me nervously unliappy. I cry to God daily for humility to JoTe all, and to leel that I am saved as a sinner who, as such, must have disgusted the angels. Our pride is devilish, and when I know how much better many of those who repel me are than I am, or even have been. I am ashamed ot my pride, and that I cannot clasp them to my heart. I should despair, unless I believed that Jesus Christ can and will deliver me, and give me to enjoy the unspeakable heaven of being a humble, meek child without my knowing it, but simply being it, loving it, so that by the super- natural I may become natural, for sin in every form is so unnatural i I ! ;' 1862—63. 287 preaching. The hi^rhptf!^ • iJ ' -^""^ ^®** ^° «*»"«ng and Imppv m love. I believe that God w^itl"^^*/^^?^ good-will and unselfish con^-ega..n h, sor^^^^^J^ Z^^Z^> and bless us as a these a " n^n'^T'tT' '"IV^ *^ ^"^ *^^^ ^^^^ *- X^avs of my life i, be unfit i:;;rrcr m:tieiYea?:;r7^^ a* ^^^^^ ^ '^'^" men must be done in this time Tf L T ^ ^ ^^"^ *^''' ^^^'^^ ^^ ^7 fellow. ^ rne Key. w. F. Steve: i\ ; "Thanks for vour rU-Iio.>>+f.,i ^ * ^^ " October i, n62. Church. We ignore sixtepn JT • 7 *° ^^ ^ S^^at want of our er the trenchesr-wLrSalT^hir "'"^^^T ^^^ deeper and deep- flowers,-to ke^p up the nw/* 7^' ^''''"^ ^^^^^ "P ^ith sweet connect us as fa4Tosl^,eti^' ^^^^ of buildfng bridges S won t do, far less Pharisaical. 11 e onlv setS^^ '.• fl'^*^^^! ^^Pa^-ation greater praying and working, wh ch fkeT ,f ? ^^-"^ '' «"°^ ^^ ^^'^^ "^ separating and most uniting^'element The 4« ll' 'f %* ""''" *^^^ ^««^ thou,' must be exchanged i^XknT f t"'^' ^ '^"^ ^^^^^^ than through grace, which isline as 111^1 •'''^'' ?' ^ "°^ ^^^^^«^' *^»*^ ^^^^u bless your book !" ""^ ^'^ "''"^' ^nd mine too for thee.' God From his Jovmxh:— is .^^?^«inf me'u^^^^^^^ .1 am persuaded «.at God spirit and in my parish What T .^ f ^ ' 'f "'^ '°'''*^" ^^ "^^ own glory and blessedness of lovTtnl hrilir^'fr *' -f '''''' '' ^°^« '^ ^ man would be heaven. I hlve^l. T [• ^T'''*^ *°'^''^^'*i« ^^od and Vinet'. noble sermon on 'Submitt^n^rf ^ qmckened to aim at this bv hands.' There is no Zj^^^^^^^^Cm'^Zf'^'^' 'f ' ^''''''^ "P ^^«1> "ig, so faithful, so discriminatinlTn J Lnl T J f ^ ^' ^'^ does-so search- life will be nobly spentl^ I aS on v b^; I ^''^ T^ *^,^* *^« ^'^^^ ^^ "^7 grace, seek dail/to go out of myse?f J'lo/e to GnT^^* ^^'K'^ ^^^^Shty patience, silence svmnatl,^ yiij^'^n in love to God and man, showing it bv myself-hono'S;;^"£^^^^^^ others bette^'r thaj 'il-in-all to me. ' '"'^"'^""'S *« them, being nobody, and my brother " ^y proposed work will be •— ^^^' Regular visitation of the sick and aged, and weekly visits of communi- ;; Careful preparation of lectures, sermons, and prayers Thursday evening prayer meetings. ^ ^ '* Weekly district meetings. ' ' wTth rndyrl'^''f I "''?,' '^ P"^«^^^«' *h« Hospital. yJ"::^^'^^^::^'^ ^ - ha^f^t Hv. spend half-a. exclusively for pulpit. "^^^P -^"^^y and Saturday ' "Praying and Working." w, ill!! Iff 'U IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) m- ^ -* V C ^ y. ^ fA 1.0 I.I 1.25 ii-i||||IM 1112.5 1^ — '- ■- ill! 2.2 1.8 U IIIIII.6 m- o ^ '# ""m Ca Ai r > "^ > ^r.^ ^ f # '/^ Photographic Sciences Corporation # ^\^ iV M V \ \ rv^'' ^ .Jim ^ .*. " ^^P *''« «'»"« '" Winter, i7/Kai^lZthandm^^^^^ portion ; Stevens..,. - >-- r,VuTat-±h -/ S^SH^ have the joy of visiting Kl^g^BenlSQlt^he Gie'nT "" ™"'"'^" '° To the Rev. W. F. Stevenson :_ arw:r\:tre:irje~ .bout such p..ticii ii rrr%r: r^? zs^:'^^ From his Journal : — n.:g& f w'«sifsea™t:,^[,S''^°"'^'"'™'- ^»-«'- talk wM her! "^"^ °" ^""''"^ "'S'"' ""'' ^ " '""S «-<" very confidential f JLt\t;td:crd!;;grSod?s li?,"- st"*'' -'""• " -^ ~" ' " I record a specimen of my boy's theology .- 18C2-63. ? of a royal iber of poor he finest iif I of March and bands. » Kingsley, yal pair we I, yet some- l princesses 8 they saw 3ar father's Jueen's ex- horale was 1." h has been , but with ^ell which could not my work ! ■ that sort len Nevis ummei' to 16, 1863. audience, in to open lect East ;ing facts his city." 3 weather ifidential ay soul I learching Jhors all lent God ) fear of 291 "T: 'Auntie, what prayer shall I say? Shall I say. "When I lav mp down to sleep, angels will me keep V ' ^ ^ ^ *'A. 'Yes; say that.' ' abo"* *Jie good angels.* "J. 'Can they kill rats?'" As it was thought desirable to send deputies from the Pbnrrb f^ visit the stations which the Committee of the Jew slTM^ion was e^ tabhshmg in the Levant, Dr. Macleod and his f iend Dr icduff ^n'llir^^Z ^^™-/- ^hi« d^%> and offered to fulfil it at Lt own cost. They resolved, however, not to go except the Generfll Assembly was perfectly unanimous in its decision ThLcoiKSn not^ having been fulfilled, they gave up all thoughts of the Txpe^ To Dr. Macduff : ••'All will go well, I h >pe, in the Assembly. We do not go, of course • grace. Fear not ! you and I shall come well out of this business." The opposition to Good Words, wliich he had anticipated from n. section 01 the religious world, and of which some faint murmusTad already reached him, at last broke out with a violence C whTch he M^as certainly not prepared. The Jiccord newspaper published a series o1 Sm Tir'Sfl" 'T'ii'- T^-^^^'he contibiS oi inncipai lulioch. Dr. Lee, Dr. Oaird, and Dr Macleod whinh tlnfheTa \r^ ''''TT' ^'T'T' '' ^^^^ delibei^tfcl^hoSy: that he was utterly shocked by the revelation it gave of tlie sDirit reignmg m the narrower circle of the " Evangelical " woi^d S nia edictions o the Bccord, reprinted in the form of a pamphlet and widely circulated in England and Scotland, were caS p a d re-echoed by kindred organs tliroughout tlie country ad had tie effect of making the editor of the offlniding periodical an ob ect o s piciontomany whose good-will he valued.^ A lu Umus nt -chm x was reached in the Controversy when tlie Presbvterv of s/r fM ^ly averti.ed ; the Geneil Assem/^cffSScL^ ^^ nndlff''^ T l^', ^^"^i^J^ration. If Dr. Macleod was indiu a t howXo^'l ^Tlr''^'' «r "' '^^" '"«^'« 8"«^«^^ ^^^ ashamed. He never howe c est the confidence of the healthier "Evangelical" m ty In Stilus n'th?/'" f 1 'T''''' '' '^'' '^^''^^ ^^""•-t^'^i ot the tiitic sms in the iirtYw^viiich .ippeaicd in the Patriot, did much even i i Ii:; 292 LIFE OF NOBMAN MACLEOD. From his Journal : — Sm!!' f^ ^ gives these furious attacks any interest to me is the evidence KP? 1*1^ '1°^*^'/*^*^ °^ ^ «^^*^*^" «f *he Evangelical Church S sets Itself up as the perfection of ' Evangelicalism ' sr.l,n;rnf ; f r' '*'''*^. ^^^^"^ °^ *^^ "^^ ^ «^^«»ld mn from the narrow school of perfectly conscientious people, weak albeit and ignorant of the b^^ eS-r '^ ^' TT'^'^ "^'^^ '^''^ ^"d «f ^J^-t might be done fS Christ s cause and kingdom by wiser and broader means. 1 had tried the very same experiment in the old Edinburqh Christian tSsT/ ButT/lT .■n.r'^?•1'= ^*^ ^^^^ was^aboutTur thousand. But I hehl on till the publishers, who had little capital and less tZ^rr Tl? "P f despair. But while I met constant opposition fS he weaker brethren, I held on with the hope of emancipating EpSdoS teure from the narrowness and weakness to which it hfd come S JW. ha. now risen to a circulation of one hundred and ten thousand monthly while we print one hundred and twenty thousand l?ms the ex periment has so far succeeded. I resolved to publish the names of con" o?the work otfv wMleT ""'' '^^Vf 7^^ ^^'^^^^^^^^ ^^ his own sC ot tne work on y, while I was rosi)onsible for the whole. Until this moment it has been welcomed, but the Record has opened fire-Stral an toH mHt X^irMicI^r^^^^V^r^ frightfuf evident: T^Z^^'lZ t Which liiarisaica 'Evangelicalism' has come. They have been ablv answered in a series of articles in the Patriot. I don't know nor suspect by wlK)m. An attempt is being made to get Good Words reacted by Set feocietios, the Pui-e Literary Society, &c. It is incomprehens ble o me tLat tlaJklTfoTi : J"' citadel of truth is attacked, these men are not s nee the -ffLk t V n '"'^ ^T'*^ '^'^''''^- S*'''^'^'^^ ^"^^ ^e that since the attack he has sold more than ever. But this is a secondarv con sideration My own belief is that the magazine will for a ti Ibe inUed" bo many thousands of well-intentioned people are slaves to rrgiousXers among the worst m existence), and to their weak-headed 4vaniS' Cn a"; rerSd Z IZ^T'' ''< *'"^ ^^^^ ^ «^ l^'-^^--^ ' and s^^many rverprSaml for ^ n '^*' "^ V-nevangelical,' that I don't think they are asyetprepaed for a magazine which shall honestly re))resent the various goori'"^'" "^^^'""'' "'^«^ ^ 1"-^ ^' ^-^ - Ay the thou™o? gaicai paity — toi thank God, they are b it a small clique-are becomin^r vocablrv Tf two t ° *''"• ''''^ '" ^^^'^*' ^^» ^ ^eep up a cant vocabulary Let two men appear m a certain circle of society of London and let one man speak of ' the Lord's people,' ' a man of God," a gro^it wo, k going on of revival,' &c., and another s/jeak of ' good Christian peoirt good man,' good doing,' the first man is dtibbed |odly, and tie othe mJi tat ons un!;.'''" ' l7' '" '"" P'"''"«^ ' ^'^ one^ma^'s sins mis^e^^^^^^^^ ^^t^^Jlr^ ^^r other dJlLl^'ll^.eS ^Si^ istrS, in hke manner, though a muu believe., as I do. with his whole soul the 1862—63. 293 ^ec(yrd news, the evidence burch which the narrow it of the big be done for ih Christian about four ital and less 3sition from iap religious )me. Good n thousand 'lius the ex- mea of con- i own share liis moment I told me it )w state to been ably nor suspect sd by Tract to me that, en are uofc Bs me that ndary con- be injured, ous i)apers vangelical' d so many k they are lie various fioughts of ed ' Evan- bocominir to be con- up a cant f London, reat work •eopio,' ' a •ther man jreproson- of Clod ;' he one is horrible ! osuul the doctrines of Scripture, yet woe to him unless he believes the precise nhilo Bophy, or the systematic form of those doctrines held by the c^^ I J is revealing Crods love, as that without which there is no pardon for sin as hat by which we are reconciled to God. They will tell yCtlat you d;ny ptirmeTt which'"' you believe that Christ on the Lss endured the wS^r iTn^ T\ ^T *° ^^^^ ^^'^^^ 0^^ *l^e elect for whom He died • which, thank God, I don't believe, as I know He died for the whole world They never seem to be aware of the difficulties connected with t^^eThilo sophy of the atonement: what it was, how Christ bore our s ns, how thL stands connected with pardon, or man's spiritual life. And soL re gards every other doctrine : a man may believe in the corruption o? Imman hX SnTr^fc ? ''' '"''^* *^'V'' requires the supernatural 'power of S's ShL ?W ''''''^,''' ^""f T^'' "' ^^^y-^^^ Anathema! unless you believe that you are damned for Adam's sin, and that a man has to be IS not enough to be leve that sin is cursed, and that so long as a sinner remains in this world or anywhere loving sin, he is in hell, iut you must believe in literal fire and brimstone : a lake of fire, into which Sts ^en may be cast, or you are not 'Evangelical!' In vain vou vow that von submit to Christ's teaching, that whatever He lys yoirbelxevl that Jou in it Anathema ! unless you see A B C to be Christ's teaching, the proof Ohuich, theliecm-d or Dr. Tins or Dr. Tliat, think so, say so. and curse every man who thinks or says differently. ^ ' -Along with all this fury in defending 'the faith' (forsooth!) 'once sprtS hl^edT."'' (as if Abraham wore . Recordite)) there is^uch a spir.tot hatiedand gross dishonesty ma, ifested that it has driven more away from real Christianity than all the rationalists who have ever written God helping me, I will continue Good Words as I have begun. If good men us cross. It IS my daily prayer to be guided in it for the glory of my Kedoomer and I wish each number to have such a testimony lo'r ffim in ^^ as that I shall be able to put it under my pillow when I die 1 was threatened in London that unless I gave up Stanley and Kin^- oy I should be 'crushed! What a wretched hypocrite I would-be "f fS icaly declared that I did not think these nin worthy of writin^bSt ue ! Only think ol it. Editor ! Strahan and I agreed to let cTod Wol P ensh, perish a hundred tin.es, ".efore we would play such a false part as ! • \ \ ^ "*' accepted as Christ's friend, and Arthur Stanlev rejected as His enemy ! It might make the devils lal.gh and angels W^ clil as £.'"' '""'' '"' ' "^" "^'^^'- ^^^^ '' ^^ ^-^^ sacrifices of iS: " I believe the warfare beg,m by that miserable 7?econ/-which I have ab- horred ever since it wrote about ,lear Arnold- will end in the qultion how far the truly , nous Church of Christ in this country is to be r'dl bva simU shaKr """ '"*' ^'"^^ °'^ "'"^^'"' ^"^^"^^"« men not a IW. We " Vet I go this week to the Evangelical Alliance I Yes I do. I have re- > i\ wi ' i : f 'I I 294 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. or leave it as I find it right ^ "' '' ""^' ^^^ ^^" continue in it „,,. , . "Oiisoow, /«« 1863. it kindly ^"'" '°' ^""^ """^ ' '«»™ I '«' «™<1 that you meant Witt wShYSiS: otieron','? T'ii?'''; -r* "'^^' *'« -n^e, ro.31"^^^^^^ iro,-A. '^ """"y *^ "'^P''«« "" y™"- letter regarding ffoorf oulSr v' ''f °' "'l' ""'. "'•J''*™ "■"«•' yo" <»11 "» Sabbath reading mittea . a re.,„ctaUe and worthy'^^tr Ir:^^^!^^^:^ 1862—63. 295 n off by the ntinue in it he weakest md sincere, 1 mind, all IS ceased to 1 inclusion, b11. I will le supreme nd no man onstrance as printed ine, 1863, i'^ou meant 3 surprise, ains, fiom Perhaps •bject of a on falling and, A.ssembly !e of that ifficulties ing Good I reading tempted ' the fine Sabbath specially nourish- ent men )elled to ke them ill more rity has J? The ere this ed that y^ be ad- at least SIX days of the week 1 If so, why not take the visitor by the throat sav at 11 55 on Saturday night, just at the moment when he is being trrsformed nto the character of a dangerous intruder, and then incarcerate hTmtm he fn. T!?.T??°'°n "''P''**^l« ^* 12,05 on Monday morning? O if It g oecome so attached to him that they are disposed to pick the lock of his nri oM oTttdo^ P °^^*.' "^'i^' ^' "°* ^' P^-i^^*' "^ «^«h - case to adopt the hLo^ T S?P''^ *'^^r °^ ^"™^"^ ^^^ ^« ^ heretic i-w th the condi- tion only, for the great advantage of the publishers, that a new copv sha 1 be purchased every Monday morning ! EVen in this case, an J inTnite of b1 t^n mvTf '' ^""' ^^"'^ ™^' ^*"^ ^« ' "-*h --^ -d cost Kiel ^ut then my dear , you must consider how to dispose of all your other 'secular' literature upon the first day of the week. What of vourSr secnln^^ how ir^ 'Ty P«"«di-1«' -d, what is a stillt^reScult^^^^^^^^^^^ ^w are you to dispose of all your secular conversation, if science Lsecuar? fh n wi / u ^ ^ ^^ y°" ^"^ '''' '^^^ yo'* to think about them ? If vou think about chem, are you to speak about them 1 If you speak about thom are you to do so scientifically-that is, according to tS?^ tr if o y^u thereby immediately tread upon dangerous ground. You mav fc led Ito a alk on Astronomy and may thus become a! bad as Pro7esTo7_Z.tho as you mforni me, declared from the chair of the Royal Society that he had hlr. 'i'ri'''^^^^^ ^^ ^'''^ ^'''^' «" - Sunday even ng Your teeToTl V ^^ '''*' p '' ^r^ '' P^'"^*^«^ ^" consistency with^e mos holy idea of the Sunday, But that is not my look-out. 'Let each man be fully persuaded in his own mind.'-' To him that esteemeth rnythin?to b^ W c'an nabl" «n " ""l'^",' '' '' ^^«"«"^ ^^ ^^ defence that £ and key can enable any man to dispose of Good Words, if he finds his family wSb T f:;r7^^t «f principle or self-control, to re^d some of those aS 2 tie wVk p1"" r.* "Tf ' 'T ''^ ^""'^y' ^"^ ^- *he other days of tiie week. 1 ray my tnend, do not suppose that I am speaking lightlv oi the Sunday or of Its becoming exercises. I will yield to no man iS in noi do 1 wish God forbid ! to weaken them, but to strengthen them I am merely indulging ma little banter with reference to what appearsTo me t^ rort/whichltiS'°''. ^^ ^n so far as character is cou- Words'. Nay mt ^haT heTir'^^^^^^^ r'' ^" *^" ^^^^ ^^ ^-'^ essentials of the Christian fkith atl 3l ? ^T^"^ '^^ ^^'-^^^ ^^it^^ *!»« ' I hold that he who is ^TagSt Cll Lr trU^'-J^i:'^^ ^' ""''' ally when the author whoever hp !,« i. , -n- ^/"^— t^i W™ more especi- me. who preach the olXttiS, .' '^ K Jf^ I ha"^ ^'T '■'* tion m saying to you that T h^l,-o,.r> ^ ' ''"^^'^^ore, 1 have no hesita- r«.* puJlicfy pSStis fSS r7sETaS°n,ttot:""*"r '^""^ not inconsistent with that profession maintains a character ley' otstnty,'! p'ernTbXy^?h"^'""^*'"^ ^f "^^^ *° ^^ Kin^s- inclined to do^o mCr^ reaS J^^S rL^? T\t" ^'^■^^^'>^' ^'"^ ^e people who read general liteiXe arppl.l l "• ^ ^''"'""^^ ^^^'^^ «^««* ings. Yet I begin to tl ink fW !if ^'^^ acquainted with their writ- neL read the^t h^'w^^^^^^ '^^ ^^^ -^o have impression of something horrible aboutThemLT^^ '^""''""*' * ^'^g"^ not aware of anything theXve ever t^^^' J "^ ^^"^ "^* ^^*^*- ^ ^m being excommunicated StTeZeT of cr:-' '^'°"'^ necessitate their Anyhow, I have little faitHn ai /^S'L^^^^^w f"'"''^' "'"■'^*"^^- amongpeopleof ordinary education and^SSr^,trrt^S^^ I I 1862—63. 29r n/.3.T r?' "" ^^''^^'f "^"^^ ^* "'^^^ ^^ -^^^r ignorant, felse, ^iTlJ^ fo«l called upon to study the present phases of rel^ous thought. f wT ' ^°^«^6r' gi^«s t**e«i but the good side. +!,• ' +i!*! T^l.^*^ ^^^"^ *^* practical result of my editorial pla«? It is tills: that I defy any man to seleot a Bumber in which there has not b«en agam and again repea,ted a full statement of Gospel truth, and that too without any one article, or even any passage in any number cont- idicting It, but every article being, at least, in harmony with it. No doubt yoS may pick out here and there once in a year, and ^ut of a hundred articles, some sentence which may have crept in through inadvertwicy, and which might have been perhaps better left out. And in a few articles also of » more strictly religious character there may be the omission of doctrines mnS J • T^V T ^^i ^"^"^ '?' *''■ ^^''* ^""5^ «***^- But the Magazine must be judged of as a whole, aoid by the general tendency of all its articles, and the impressions which it is likely to make upon a»y truthful, honest Jair man. Let me say it with all reverence, that there are books and epi.s- tles in the Scriptures themselves which could be proved defective, doubtful, and liable to be misunderstood, if the same principles of carping Colenso- criticism are applied to them as those which have been ai>Vlied by the necora to Good Words. nprln;«ii ' \x'^^ presume that you, my dear Sir, are neither acquainted personally with Kings ey nor Stanley, and that you have not read their works with care. Writing hurriedly, as you have done, you may have ac cepted without mature reflection the application of the verses from 2 Cor VI 15, 16 first suggested by the Record. But were I, who have the honour and privilege of knowing these men— while differing, as I have said, very decidedly from many of their views-to indulge such a thought regarding ou^ relative position, I should loathe myself as a Pharisee of the Pharisees' and despise myself as the meanest hypocrite on earth. I have great per' sonal respect ior the characters of TroUope, Kingsley, and Stanley, as iell as admiration of their genius, though they occupy very different walks in l,^r.r^\/ have the privilege of knowing Dr. Stanley more intimately than the others, and I am glad to have even this opportunity of expressing to you my profound condction that he has a fear of God, a love for Christ and for his fellow-men, a sense of honour, truth, and justice, such as I should ^^""1 to believe were even seriously aimed at by the conductors of the Mecord. The passage you hastily apply to such a man as Stanley— I feel assured, without the full meaning I attach to it-was, nevertheless, coolly written and printed in the Record, and applied also to myself, Lee, TuUocli, Caird, and has been transferred to the separate publication of its so-callecl criticisms on Good Words. As to the application of the more harmless and peace ul image from Deuteronomy which you quote:— 'Thou shalt not plough with an ox and an ass together,' I shall, with confidence, leave your fn? «°*^^**^*« to make it, if you can suppose Arthur Stanley and the Chelsea Pensioner' writing together in Good Words. ♦I, "/ J * "^"* ^hatever may become of Good Words, I am grieved to see the tendency, on the part of some good men in the Evangelical Church, to cast away from their heart and sympathies in such a crisis as the present, the cordial aid which men most devoted to Christ and His kingdom ari I 1 ( il^ ii 2dB LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. ^^^in^in4r:7^^:'^^T ^' ^-^' ^\ very .o.ent the, stereotyped form wLfsome 8^11 ^1^ "" "T ')''' \!^^^««' "^ '^^ type of ' evangelicism.' TheyTre W^t fo^^ ^.«^°^ *^« ^^1^ and words, instead of looS Tto th!^« • v ^7^^^<^.^ ^7 ^^e mere letter thus unconsciously accent th/wl^Jl ^^ 'P?^ ^'^^ ^^*"*i«« of tilings, and by one whom I nee^fnat bt X^l^'/''' ^"T ^ ?^^«* *^ ^ ^'^^'^^ ■of the private conspiraoies^^^^tg^Sd^ i^inThfoffit TC'^LT' " ' Im g&nzm—haltet euch an Worte ! Zum Tempel der Gewissheit ein.' * * •* ♦ " ' '• Mit Worten em System bereiten, 'ChS^^S' ;rr^^eS:^^^^^^ r/ ^ r^^ore crave as a •the good men of all parties and o? «n r^ ^f *'" '. '^°''''' *^^ sympathy of to all If this is denied me hv «vL ^^^^^ches-for Good Fo^^/belongs bility of weakenLg my h^l LT'nv'J ^'^ ^^T ^^^ ^^ *^« ^espons? ever, of a higher s^p^thri shall Jo off ; r^f^'^fy convinced, how- clear purpose^ and rpLeful^ou^agfo JLart 171 h'^^' ^*^ '^ ^^°^> I smg now, and hope to do s^ till Tvoicet silenll- '"""^ ^°°^ "^"' Trust no party, church, or faction, Trast no leaders in the fight : -But m every word and action, Irust m God, and do the right ! •Some will hate thee, some will love thea. Some will flatter, some will slight ^ ease t mm mnn „«j »-_? i »"'"« will Slis-ht. Tnifr-"" /?","' *"/>0K above thee, Irust in God, and do the right !'" S^om the Rev. A. P. Stanlev, Professor of Ecclesiastical History :, « Vf,r rr,^ ^ ^ T u " Christ Chprch, Oxford, June 13, 1868. but rs?ri ;:Snc1pt whTch t::r f "^ p^-^«^^- - ^-^ ^-'^*. that I shall be sorrrtrdo so 'Throv 7*" "^ ^°"'" ^^^^^'^ *° ^« «° g«>d the^O.^^^^^^^ i^J-om the late Canon Kingsley :— "IliavA««nf off T-. ^'^''^^^^^(i^, Saturday Night. m 1862—63. 299 as a 70^o5o^rL*d"eJ'''^S^^^^^ '^TJ can be spoken without offence to your u,uuu readers. So do what you hke with the paper. . mat^'nf i'i"" "^ ™^ ""' ^''"™ "P"" -'*• ">" I -y " ^ yon „ TV) A. Stkahan, Esq. :— "Let us be very careful, not to admit through oversight one sentencA which ought to pain a Christian, however weak he may bl Tone wd let us honestly sincerely, humbly, truthfully do what is right and darlthe devil whether he comes as an infidel or a Pharisee " We have an immense talent given us, let us use it well. truckle 't^Yn^pS;.'?"' '''^'' ""^ ""' ^J"^^^' ^^^ '' ^^ P-«^ ^efo^e I To the Same : — Jil^^^^ read Number 1 of the Hecorcl ; but the louder the wind pines "eUostfefXltr^^^^^^^^^ '"" that quarter, the more calm,TteadLTi the Bible ^ """"P^' ""^ ^ ^^^'^ conscience, by the old chart, " Thank God, I have you as my first mate, and not some Quaker T know you won't flinch in a gale of wind, nor will I, take ^ word for it^ "I don't mean to take any notice at present, a though /wovUd ike to speak out on the whole subject of religious peri<;iical literatuTe ^ ^ Us and is-what IS good in it and what is bad, what its dutiefare and Hs sh^ comings. I think this will do much good to the i-eligious atmosphere It" IS very close at pi-esent. In the meantime I shall L on mrdd motto * Trust m God and do tie right,' " ^ motto. In the same year in which he was attacked by the Eecard h& harl an opportunity of showing how little ground there ^ffrihem It serious of the charges brought against him as editor. He had aS t celebrated novelist, a personal friend, for whose character and opinions he ever retained unquahfied respect, to write the tale for the foXS ^nf Jn> n f'Z *\'/*°'^ "^^^ submitted to him, he saw that it wa? not suitable for the Magazine. There was, of course, nothing morX wrong in its tone, but as all its •'religious" people were drliwn of ^ type which justly deserved the lash "of the^satirist he fe 'that to publish It in Good Words would be to lend the san Jon of i con- ductors to what he had long considered the injustice of modern novel is s m Ignoring healthy Christianity. A friendly correspondence Mowed,* from which t appeared that the editor Ld his fSd had misunderstood each other; but so determined was Dr. Macleod and forfeS'^r'n7'"° ''TTl' '^'' character of Good Words, that tSe torteit ot £500 was paid and the story declined. Tk/r*?'*^j,°*'^?^'**.^^° ^^ referred to above thus writes •—" I ne&A not anv fi,.* r>. ' I 11 . j ' ■ i ■ 1 1 I 1 . 1 : 1- i ■ j \ 1 1 ! Vi i ■V ■ 1 ^■'^. m T ■ ' LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 300 To ..-_ for a monf-i. ^ ' ^^^"^ ^^ ^^^en, ox- a bit each day «. y " Glasgow, J-m«€ 11, 1863 ' by your leave,' I assert The! if LtT ""*^7 '"^' ^, ™^- ^his, me, thoTigh I more than you have lin t) ^^«"P^J^»'«tood you and you "What I tried to expCand^^Z] 1 ?"'' ^^ *^ misunderstanding, the peculiar place whicT^oS V^^il iZ .f'" ^^"" "^'"^* ^^^« -^^' cheap Christian literature. I h-vve aW-^ , «^«"?ying in the field of hand, thr exclusively nar;ow .eSu Z ^'I^^^^'^'^^^d *° ^^oid, on the one jects and in its manner of t^eSt hem r^~ V''™^ '^ ?^ ^^"^^^^ ^^ «'^b- periodicals; and, on the oi\Th^J^^ll~^^^^^ ' tagonistic to the'truths and Spirit of S-ril^ f '^'^^f^' ^^"'^^^^ ^"^^ ^'^- sible whatever was calculated to offend l^f^^^^V^'"^ T' ^'^ "^"^^ ^« Pre- convictions and feelings, of Sr amuf^s nl?'l';''''''' ?'" "^"'"^ ^^'^ «i"'«re these extremes it seemed to me t 4 a S .^"'^"^^^l^'^^' "^^^^ Within which any novelist might room and find ^""l^^ ''^''^'^^' ^^^'^ ^^^^^^d, in ners to describe with profit to al? a fd In "f ^'r^^. ^^^'^^ty of life and man- problem which I wisl ed to sol ; d d ^^;''""* ^r^^g °ff«"^« to any. This difficult one, unless for very one i od 'f r''-;'"* '"^"^ *« "^« ^ ^^^7 writers. At all events beL « '^l *^^angelicai' or anti-' Evangelical' from deepest convic S, Eh th l^ri T "' -^ f '^^ t'^^-^"-^ oL take-I could not be els^ tl an sensWvf ^^^^^^ ^- "" ^'""', *'^^ ^^^i^««* «^i«- 7ro.c/« out of harmony with my coTvt^^^^^^^^^ """' 'i'^'"''' ^^ ^''^^ was I wrong in assuxning tl^ryou v^r^r h3lT""* ^'''^^'^'-> Christian trvth t I was not WaV T w n ^'^ /'7^,^<^ '^^'l^^^er m revealed there were manv truly Christian a^Ltfrnf?/'' ^'"'"^.V"* ^""^ doping that hnmbuff ones, with which i^^hea t ' «vmnr;r T" "? ''l^ ^•'^"*'"'' ^»^» able and dispose.l to delineate? fw Is not^ ' ' ^^'''^' ^°" ^^^« this wrong. Possibly the w^h was llTf }^f''^: ^^ «". ^^^'give me di «"' It assumed only that you could wi;'?"^7^'^'? *" '•■"*^' «'' ^° "'^^•'•-"• novel which, iriead of ahowini In l """'" ""J^ I'''^^''"^^ '"'o*'"'*' l-rofV'ssing Christians, m^Vn^ Zr^lt'^'T'^' ^'^''' ^^^''^-^usting in what Christianity as khvln' pier ^ 'ms never yet b^on don.., .nd working in anc; tlno ^i E n n ' „dT '"''^ ? " ^1"^"^ ^'^^^-"•' ^iil do, what no other knon-n ZorZ mw. i".""' t^'' ^'"' *'«"«' '^"'» good of the indivi.lual or nmnlc 7 !?"„'"' '" ' ^"'^'^' '"' *''« nor Chrisfirnity exists; and n uL.lZZ^ 'T'' ^iT'' "•''*'"' ^"^"''•^^ novelists are, to say the least of' Tu T^'"" ^'"'^ '""""^^ "^ ^ "' g«'^'vt it. .The wekness^'::;;;.;::^ t icSierd:;:'^?'^ .-knowietn. fossing Christians are all deHcrilVT ^. ' ^''^";^' «^ «"">« spoci^^s of pro. iue. h\aven-born ciltai^T.;' ;VV'^^;!^''"»^!"'^ ' •"•* ^vhat of the «.!nu. i_n «-j...„ui., vVny, wi.cii one reads of the go.^ 1862—63. 301 men m most novels, it can hardly be discovered where they got their good- ness; but let a pai-son, a deacon, a Church member be introduced, and at ChHstiaS^'' '^'''''^ ^ ^^ ^^^^ ^""^ ^^''''" ^^^""^^^ from-they were professing '• Now all this, and much more, was the substance of my sermon to you ^P^.' ^l .S°°^ ' you have been in my humble opinion guilty of committing this fault, or, as you might say, praiseworthy in doing this good m your story. You hit right and left ; give a wipe here, a sneer there! ancl thrust a nasty prong into another place ; cast a gloom over Dorcas societies and a glory over balls lasting till four in the morning. In short, it is the old story. The shadow over the Church is broad and deep, and over everv other spot sunshine reigns. That is the general impression which the storV gives, so iar as it goes. There is nothing, of course, bad or vicious in it- tnat could not be from you— but quite enough, and that without any neces- sity from your head or heart, to keep Good Words and its editor in boiling water until either or both were boiled to death. I feel pretty certain that you either do not comprehend my difficulties, or laugh in pity at my bigotry But I cannot help it. ^ f. . J b y- "You do me, however, wiong in thinking, as you seem to do, that apart from the struct.'! e of your story, and merely because of your name, I have sacrificed you to the liecord, and to the cry it and its followers have raised against you as well as against me. My only pain is that the Jiecord will suppose that its attack has bulli3d me into th. rejection of your story " I know well that my position is difficult, and that too because I do not write to please both parties, but simi)ly because I wish to produce, if pos- sible, a magazine which, though too wide for the 'Evangelicals' and too narrow for the anti-' Evangelicals,' and therefore disliked by both cli.nies may nevertheless rally round it in the long run the sympathies of all who occupy the middle ground of a decided, sincere, and manly Evangelical Christianity." ° To J. M. Ludlow, Esq. : — " I really cannot ascertain anything reliable about the election of librarian " In summer the College is dead, the professors Hed— no one but waiters or seagulls know whither. For aught I know, the books are ofl" too, to wash tlieu- bmdmgs, or to purge themselves of their errors. The very porters have vanished, or looked themselves up. I believe the animals in the museum are gono to their native haunts. Tht; clock is stopped. The spidi'is have grown to a fearful size in the class-rooms. Hebrew roots have developed into trees ; divinity has perished. Who knows your friend in that desert] I went to imiuiro about him, and fled in terror from the grave of the dead sciences." The letter whieli follows rcfcn, to a beroavemont wliich had over- taken his uncle, the niiiiisler of Morven, and whicli liad left him pecu- liarly desolate and lonely in the old home of Fiunary. Norman was preparinj,' for a short tour on the Continent when the sad news reached iiim. iio ut cucu gave up liis promised holiday abroad and went to Morvoii. I j 'i ,f 602 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. To Mw. Macibod :— laid beside her. ^"^^ ^^^ ^ ^"^^^^^ who would rejoice if h7C-e thinlTS';!^^^^^^^^^ f % rock, and sea-all are but to speak of the old famiLr foe Ve^^JT^^ v ^ '^'"'^ ^'^ ^^^ «-«« only. Peace we can have^t must b^ L n '''' ' ^"^^ '"" ^^ ^^^^^^ ki God of surpassing splendot ; CS^^VZw^f^ ^%' ^''^''''' ^' ^^« one a large congregation of the S bu «tS , ^ P"'.^^^^^^' ^liere was the Church aWe and below SevLbirnr ff "* *^^ •^^^'^' ^^^'^^^ter venly seemed, 'whether alivelr rsZ to ^ v f 'T^ 'i'''''' «« '^^' ^ve be all partaking the communion of His ^oXrd iZ l'' ^ *^ ^j'"'' ^^^ *« ^r and^i^f d^t t;?'£s£^^^^^ gazed on the sea, calm Tt^ZoJlZ:-^' '' '^ f * *'- «^^ -oss and and the silence broken by no footfalf on tlT. ] "'^ ^^^ '""^ ^^"^ ^i"«. voice of the preacher or the srnd of rsafm.^ vi^^f '', ^"* ^>^ *^« ^^^^ ;ng m joy, or the lambs bleat nHmon^-S '' '''''^''"^ '^^^■ hee, busy and contented. Life VaTovi ill "J •''' *^^? P'^^'^"^^ ^^""^ o{ the a reath of God's own life revLTCi's Wt ^^'^*^ "' '^^*^' ' ^^^^ "iVrlTinarmt'lS^^t^^^ ^-^ "^-^^• like I was beginning to feel to 1 «1 ""^-'^V "^ '^'' ^^"r*''«" o^ dis- there was no ?,stice,''mercy, or trufh inZ^f'^LT' !i^ ?"-"'^^^'' ^ ^^ misrepresent them all ""'^n m tliem. The /^ecorc?, i see, does but wiiuf^TSjin" kn^t howT^ TV'''' ^^™P^^'"- - ^^u know and what I have kept out ZtlT .'"^'vS \*'"^ ^"''^^ ' ^^r the ChuS' " May God help me t^ know L/dEf •'''': /^"^"'^^ *^« «">tion. ' of all men." ^ ^ ^^"^ ^"^ ^° H^« ^-^ll. and to have kind thoughts from his Journal :— ^n2Zll^:!;Z^::^^^^^^^ preached objects, in nil £1,087 XZ\ X ift T/ '^"''j""^«t«d for the different delighted^, the^ee..,: ^:^'r:!:^:^:t}:;ij^a.^^^- '^y- fonuists ! The Chu'rch of Endlnd won7l.tT"'' ^ IT''.^^'''^'^ ^^v Noncon- out of resi>ect for the Chui^h ho U iZ r n P''"''t "^ ^'«'' ''"^P'^^- and ^ " r think it not only allowal, e ttt H^lt n'l C^l' '^"^ "" "'^« «^««' to teaeh reH.> Vl -■ ... ■- -""wulormists /or their Jibcraiity • but I am . . i V ) out 1 am laoie and more 1862—63 303 convinced that a country must have many Churctes to express and feed Wnt ' Establishment is a huge blessing along with " October Saturday.-Went to Balmoral-found Gladstone had gone Found the old hearty and happy friends. Preached in the morning on .!fww^^^'P''''^''L>?^,''' *^^ ^^""^^ °^ ' The Gadarene demoniac' What do you think V said little Princess Beatrice to me. •' I am an aunt Dr. Macleod yet my nephew William (of Prussia) won't do what I bid him ! Both he and Elizabeth refused to shut the door ! Is that not E them ! ''^''^'" ^^^ *'""''''' '''" "^^''^ '"'*"'"^^' ^'^^^^^^ children. God " Monday -L&dy Augusta, Dr. Jenner, and I, drove to Garbhalt. At. night I read Burns and ' Old Mortality' aloud to the Court. The Roval Family were not present. General Gray is quite up to the Scotch. Tuesday.^DroyQ to Aberdeen to the inauguration of the Prince Con- 801*1) S 8t£ltiU.O. pImIu '"VT f ^^'^ t«/|»Fess on my memory the glorious Monday at Garbhalt. The day was delicious. The river was full, and of that dark- brown, mossy hue which forms such a fine contrast of colour to the foam of the stream and the green banks. The view of the woods, the valley, Inver- cauld, and the mountains, was superb. The forests were coloured with every shade, from the deep green of the pines and firs, to the golden tints of the deciduous trees. Masses of sombre shadow, broken by masses of light, intermingled over the brown hills and broad valley, while the distant hills and clouds met in glorious coniusion. It was a day to be had in remem- brance. " I was asked Friday fortnight to go to Inverary to meet the Crown Prince and Princess of Prussia. I did so, and returned Saturday. It was a hai)py visit. ^ * -/i-n w"j^*^ J''"°'^ijM^ l^*'^* *° ^^«it Prince Alfred at Holyrood, and staid till Wednesday. Ihe Crown Prince and Princess there. I think the Crown Prince a simple, frank, unaflfected, and affectionate man. '' We had an evening party, and they left on Tuesday night at ten. V u 7 « l^a\« favar asleep, and the dia- wa« heard from the boatmen eve^^i?! •''^•' ^'°^ ^^"^^ a Maltese song Batteries, batteries everyXre Wr^Vr^"''! ^'f^^^ the elastic air^ in lines and angles and rim ^4 .1^ ^'*^ "^^"^ "^^ '^^^^ ^^^k, precipices looked down intothe haSfaL ^7/'"''^^^^^ ^''^ ^"^^ g"'^^ *hS less-endless walls anTbSons that ^7'"''^''^ -V, ^"^^ ^^ «h«*' «"d- gleaming in the moonLht 3 In.* ^ "^ -"^ -^'^^'^ *° ^^^^ down, all glancing%nd the Er^fvdTfalo'fwy'w? ^ "^^'^f ' ^^^^^ ^^^°^«*« have no idea what a poem it was W^' ^ ^""^^ *^'^'^ '' ^ou can Lord Hastings is bmld and TolrZ,. T^ ^* ^f * *^ ^^e bastion on which his mausoleum, wirtt wLVrarble': It^^^^^^ couch. I could trace his features in t£li-, . ^^'"'® reclining upon a the whole scene became min Jed vou kn^°°^^'^^'*' ^\^^'^^ '^^^ «^d. How nected with his widow and S V • I f^ri^' T}. "^^.P^^* ^'^^ ^« «««- "I was immensely impre e^ ai"n wf , v. ^^"^^"^ *° ^ave seen it. Knights and the Pafa3 the Gmnd V f ^"'^^'T "^^ ^^e Library of the It does one's heart good to be made t^'f '' T '^^ ^"^™^'« residence, and power like thes^e knights whom Godt? f 'T'*'"? "^ ^^'^ ^^ ^^^^^ defend the Church from the H^nS.,^^'*^?'^ "P/V"^^^ Israel and to that was here done by God 'in W.^"'^'- }"" ^««*^^»d we forget all good of the Church anVof ^he wlrlT" wT '^^ ^^^'^'« "^^""^'•«'' ^^ ^he and Anti-Burghers thai about 2^t' ^ I ^- T "^^^'^ ^^out the Burghers T'o his Chxldrbn :— "Dr Pl„r +T • ■ "Fbom Jaffa. ^^ eve^side- -- - ^SSrSS tl^^ ThL^S^^^^^^^^^^^ and enjoyment, on my knee and saying, < Oh, do 4ll 11^.1 «f ? ?f ^ •'"''^ '^*^"" «**>"« town' with them, aVgiven ti 1^^.7.2 •''^- i^^" P^^^^^ '^^°"don the tumbler, and'done all my rTckrand lefoH ^ ^'"' ''"^ «^""<'^«<1 Uiem. ■'^ '^^' *"d let off a Roman candle to amu8» 1864—65. 307 "The roof of tJio house is flat, and I went up on it. What a view ' To the west the blue sea, to the east the hills of Judea. The house its Jf "i. nn the plain of Sharon Within a mile is Jaffa, where Peter liv^^S S L" the tanner, and had the vision, and where he healed Dorcas. Se road ' s close to the garden along which he must have travelled to Cesarea to meet " Our first encampment was very picturesque. We had a beautiful im mense tent with five nice iron beds^ irpets, Lh, wax candles, ar^ a le^' dmner of severa courses, with dessert, &c. But for sleep! The donkevs braymg, horses kickmg, camels groaning, Arabs chattering, and the fleas and musquitoes biting! Fatigue alone could make us sleep.^ But since then we sleep famously With our camels, asses, and horses^ we make a good appearance. We have dragoman, cook, servant, and horsekeeper^ Sh camel drivei^, who sleep on the ground beside their noble animals.^ Meli rLrbetncf "" '"^ '""' "'" '" '^""*- '^^ *^^ ^-g«-- HaTs- " But 1" must tell you of our first view of Jerusalem ' ''It was about four when we reached the plain before Gibeon, and saw Neby feamuel, or Mizpeh. It took about half an hour's riding to get up tl he top of Mizpeh We ascended to the summit of the Masque! oZ a trjeru'salemt "' ' "'''' " """"^ '"" "'^ °^ *^^ "^^^^ Tere ''The nearness of these places struck me. But tlie grand feature, which Sr ^- ' ^ -'^T'"' ^.^ *^^^ ^^"^^ ^'^'^ ^^" °f *h« Dead Sea moun- t^n^fI .r^ r^ '"" *''' '"^^^^ ^^^-^^ ^"^'' ^ "^-^j^^tic a setting. And then ail these towns in sight, with such memories ! Below us was Gibeon with Its memory and the plain at our feet where the battle took place and the steep descent down which Joshua drove the enemy, and then fakl ler down the plain of Phihstia and the sea, Carmel in the distance. \^is it notmfirvellous? How many had seen Jerusalem from this point! Here Coeur De Lion first saw it, and millions more. "Wo rodo into Jerusalem by St. Stephen's Gate, with Olivet to the left SrrT f7- il?"'' f ^y ^''''' ^"^ ^^ "^y h^^^-t blessed God, as my horse s hoofs clattered through the gate." ^ To Mrs. MACLEOD : — "Jeuusalem, Palm Sunday, 20th March. ''I went out this morning to the Mount of Olives about ten o'clock The morning was hot but not sultry. I walked down the Via Dolorosa as every sreet m Jerusalem may well be called, if filth and nlw'h nnv be called dolorous. I went out by St. Stephen's Gate, crossed teKarof and ascended Ohvet on the Bethany road until I reached the top who ^ Chnst wept over Jerusalem. There I paused. The spot is certaim I si? there and read Mark xiii. (see v. 3). You can toll \vithin a few yar s where Ho stopped and gazed. All was perfect silence. The birds were singing among the olives, and bee hummed from flower to flower. Onnosita was the city, from which no soun.l nrooPP,lpd Y^f J rovWh^t '.'A ^'*^ ^ords heard by any one standing on the Temi)le area. There was a holr stillness in the scene uuite indescribable. I then walked slowly over • ii 1 308 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. above the vllageHrprobab?v«L^^^ ''''? ^"^°^ *^« P«i«* i^ «ight the olives, andfLnked SS^^^^ ^^^^.-^ prayed amo^ng you all to His care, and deicLrmvI^S /J ?' S'""""' ^^^ «o°^^ended liabbins and rascals men of God 1 1 f'T. ^"^"^^^ °^ *^« gl^K place here ever since%hTLtL^ttn of tTeV. ^f ' ^T' ''''^^' ' ^^'*W valley of dry bones It ro^^L, !,T f . ""^P^^" ^ ^^^^^^ saw such a over^JerusaU Id 'I :* t e^rsTdtn^ent oTnir^"^ "^'^ ^^^^ bukes one when in despair it is said'ofTCTeVs? ^S^:t/SZ " I passed Gethsemane, but did not Pnfpr t+ ; , , , wall, and is laid out like a caf^ restaurant i don'M T'""^^'^ \^ ^'"^ on farther up tlie valley, until I leadied I ^ZJ^^T ''' '■' ^^^ P««««d me as one which would have LsZtf.U ?i? ^'' ' ^^^ interesting to more than any I have seen ^^'^'^^^^ ^" ^^^ requirements of Calvary " There is really nothing interesting in Jerusalem itsolf A ll +1, . . are narrow lanes, like the closer in v,l1«i *'"'^'"^^ "f"- All the streets to keep the hea out, sle paved w tf '^ ' 'T' "^ '^'"^ ^^^^^'^^ over At the church of the Holy Cuthri ^^'^'''^ '*^''''' ^"^'^^ '^'^Sh earth. watching the pilgrims whTczuXedYnandTut^^^ *^"^^ ^^ sxans and Copts,\ith Greeks from the Levant olZ^T'^^ ^r marvellous faces, dresses and expressL^ i nn„ ^*- ?'^'' "^^^^ back. The intense and affection^ST f- ^? '^''' '^''"^'^ centuries sepulchre was to me very^ouchxW It ^ ""n' 7^''^' ^"^"« ^^«««d the at present some English devoees male anT f' ' ,^"? *' ?"°^- ^^^^^^^ ^^^ superstitious. In this hoteH a mT^ ITo • ^^^^l'.'-";P"PPie«, half the Church of England,' who seems tollT^tW "T" ^""^'^"^^ ' "^"^^^ '^^ lady. They walk with cTndlprS, fi ^'^ confessor to an elderly ricJi vice's. But'l Wr'timetnen yt 72TZ C^ ^^^V", ^^^^ «^^- who come to this city. ' The Church? 'The Jew ' Se M-M "^''''''^'''' the crotchets. The Jews and the Mo.ler^ltllJl:^''^^^^^^ ^ To his Sister Jane ;— u A„ , T w "^"^"^ Nazareth, J/«reA 24th, 1864. among the 8ta«, our «n „o,iL „ .,„ '"T T,°" »'"'""« glori««!y and ^ on a siall town Xc^c h,, d ll.^ln" "'H;""'' I^' ' »' J"™ of the narrow valley, like a ntktro' w , tooS ° V '1°"'"^ '* .ut t,.o ^^'-^o.i^^^t^^^^T^-'^::^^^ 1864—65. It woimd below y. Along it He e point in sight d prayed among and commended ice. I retraced irial-place of the be the Day of the earth. To ith grave-stones i-iptions. Hun- ' of the globe, 5ught a resting- ^er saw such a TO Christ wept ars, and yet re- ;hese dry bones ied by a high it, so I passed interesting to its of Calvary All the streets 1 covered over e rough earth, y touched by i mostly Rus- t faces, what •ied centuries me kissed the 11. There are ■ puppies, half If ' Priest of a elderly ricJi d all the ser- sd characters lennium ' are ,lso." '- 24(h, 1864. h which led ig gloriously I sat down )pposite side le end, and m our tonta, 1 was heai'd understand 809 my feelmgs better than I can describe them when I tell you that the vil- lage was Isazareth ! And you can sympathize with me when I say to you that, after gazing awhile in almost breathless silence, and thinking of Him who had there lived and laboured and preached; and seeing in the moon- light near me the well of the city to which He and Mary had often come, and, farther off, the white precipice over which they had threatened to cast Him; and then tra«ing in my mind the histories connected with other marvellous scenes in His life, until ' Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews ' died at Jerusalem, and all the inexpressibly glorious results since that day which have made the name of this place identical with the glory of the world ; and when I thought of all that I and others dear to me had received trom Him, and from all He was and did, you will not wonder that I knelt down and poured out my soul to God in praise and praver. And in that prayer there mingled the events of my past life, and all my friends whom I loved to mention by name, and my dear father, and the old Highlands, the .state ot the Church and of the world, until I felt Christ so real, that had He appeared and spoken, it would not have seemed strange. I returned more solemnized than from the Communion, and bless God for such an hour. Disappointed with Palestine ! I cannot tell you what it has been to me, more, far, far more than I anticipated. It has been a Holy Land every^ step of it. I have drunk instruction and enjoyment by every pore 1 don t care for the towns, for they are not the towns, but totally ditferent— but the sites of them, the views from them, the relationship of one to another ! Oh ! it is inexpressibly delightful. Think only of this one day. n T ' T ^} ^''^^'' '"^ •^^"'^^'^ ^ ^^^^^'^ <^^<^ ^* o^^« window ; there was Gilboa beside me, and below, gleaming in the sunshine, the well of Gideon and beyond Bethshan, where the bodies of Saul and Jonathan were hung up, and the ridge of Little Hermon, ovor which Saul went to Endor, and l)eyond the hills of Gilead, and the plain up which Jehu drove, and the spot or very near it, where Naboth's vineyard must have been. From another window was Little Hermon, and, in a green nook, Shunem. From another window Taanach, Megiddo and Carmel; while the glorious plain of hiSdraelon, dotted with Bedawin tents and flocks, stretched around ! Then in an hour after we enti'r(>d Nain, and gazed on Tabor beside us ; and after remaining at Nam, and reading the story of the blessed miracle, we crossed the plain, and for an hour wound our way through the little glens (so like the Highlands) of the mountains of Galilee, until we came to this sweet retired nest among tlie lovely kuowea. What a day in a man's life ! and vet it IS but one of many. o f f^^^Z 'S'^*«t^«y-— I have come down from the ruins of the old Castle of hafed. The day is glorious, and more so from there having been delu ™'' ^"^ ^^^'^PP^^^ «" the door.' Dear good fellow ! There TTTton?''; "*"' ^ '" P!'^*^^^ *^« «t^"^' •'^t »i^.i; >t..3 of pay; all from love, thoul at mv T'? ^^"^'^^'^ ^^^*^^<^"* <* ^^^^■-■' gav, ium a silver watch ^ ^ ''^^""'^ **^« ^^^'^ing congre Whel; 'IS.^ T^tl^ -tr^the same un.lfishnatui. appeared. - -c me know, uo replied, ' There's nae man 1864—65. d that a man'a w accepted — i's daugliter. 36 I became a ; I go fortli ', with heart, Sdenco iu the Thank God a work, lined chiefly h labourers.' He can open )lic meetings e to give me J to ,^,(}jport ;o trust God sed. ir the whole ■nd what to aching mis- len parent; ng mission, 'Ve have to md how to racter, and I the work, d the sick, The Lord ■■ We are 5S ! I oan- ^d true, SG friend on as he did, portion of idle of my •ing, tiiie, [> ^tantl at it iie was 't like to he turneil Ilk that I ^I'ipped o' e Stan' at vithout a f congre ippeared. lae man 815 hvm I hko as I do lum. I know he wad come. But he shouldna come on account of hi8 wife and bairns, and so ye maun na' tell him !' I never saw « ri,u- T 1-'^''^^' ''®''^'' J^earing of his danger till it was too late. 1 his India mission presses itself with greater solemnity on me every day • I feelJesus has given us to do the noDlest work which can occupy the energies of men here below or of angels above-not foreign missions only but all missions, every effort, from that in our own hearts, our own families' our congregations, to make men know God, and thus to respond to His own love. AH our difficulties are in ourselves. We are so poor, so mean, so cowardly ; there is such a want of thorough consecration, which is iust a loving spirit of true liberty and perfect peace. It alarms me greatly, yet not enough. j> j "I will labour and pray for the establishment of strong missions, and above all,— above all for men who peril their souls, their all in Christ ! Oh tor godly men to be missionaries. A godly man has God's spirit with him' to guide him, direct him, bless him. This is the all in all. Such a man must be a useful man A man of love, real and genuine, is the godly man. Jesus Christ, Lord of the Harvest, for this I pray ! give us godly missionaries ! ^""'t. t r/ ^'JPa""^ ''"^^''*'^- ^^' ™y S^^i«»»-' l^l««« thi« niission work ! My beloved Saviour, my hope is in Thee i ''I wish £10 000 a year at least, and ten men at least, to preach Chxir;t to India. If I had not faith in Christ I should despair." To his Mother : — „m, . , " July IQth, 1864. IJus goes merely to certify to you, on the best authority, that (1)1 have addressed, since I saw you, both Presbyteries and public meetings r.t Dunoon Perth, Dunkeld, Cupar-Angus, Forfar, Cupar-Fife . (2) that this week I have to do ditto at Dunse, Greenlaw, Chirnside, Linlithgow: (3) the week after at Galashiels, Selkirk, Kelso, Hawick, Melrose ; (4) that I am not suffering from sore throat, sore back, head, heart, lungs, brain nerves, muscles, sinews, legs, arms, back, neck, heels, toes— but am from tin to toe joiti/. '■ " My work, bless God, goes on beautifully. All so kind and cordial. I feathr-'^ thankful than I can tell, and I am in perfect peace and in great To Dr. Charteris :— Sth August, 1864. "The missionary who we hoped would have gone withdraws, as his parents say No.' Parental affirmatives are generally gladly given to good money prospects m the East, or to prospects of promotion, with the chance of a bullet through the brain of their beloved. " Faith, if not dead, sleepeth. We cannot create missionaries. We can pray and wait- ay, for a lifetime, if needs be. "It would in the end be a rich gain to the Church if deep silence for years was the only response to her cail for missionaries, and that this brouoht JJivinity professors and ministers to their knees before a throne of grac^" •• ilow mu Christ do many, or any, migiity works, if there be no Mth \ wow can He give, if we don't as a Chmch ask like men in earnest i" ^14 LIFE OF NOUMAN MACLEOD, F.wn his Jottrnal :— Ihuisday, the anniversary of my marriage. We went up Glen Tilt eaith, rejoiced that they were born into such a world, with such a Father tZ ^T7i-- ?\ ^''i' ■'''^'' ""''-y *'^^^^^f'^^ ^^r« -« bo h Oh my Fat er " We ho.l another fine day at the Loch, and all ended by an evening in company with dear John Shairp, at the rivor side, hearing John McSerson f'^'i^^^.^i^f^^i^-^VI^roohs. What aVowertlieyW over r^ " My children are a source of unspeakable blessing, yet Christian anxietv I feel more and more that there is a iif. totally different ii^ S from fh^e h^e m the natural man; a life in the Spirit; which must ^bec^Tand developed into life cveWasting by God's Spirit for which we must nmv ot eacJi child ! How impossible to renew the soul of one we would die for Oh, my Father, it is Thy work ! We cling to Theo Aboifeldia ^•~^'^' ^'^'"'^'^ "^'''''''^ ""' ^«^* *^« ^'^^^'^ <^f Wales at "It is a glorioua Highland residence. The golden pillared nines thfi royal heather, the great sweep of the valley, the high raiLes t'l S ! ' I had a sweet walk in the forest. ^ ^ ' ^ ' ^na^^cna ^^"'"^f^ ""* V ^"' ^'^^^^ness, and have had meetings ..t Tain 500 or 600 present, mostly of the Free Church ''"•'"ifes ..c lam, "I have been amazed with Ross and Sutherland. I never beheld such a combination of highly cultivated fields with good wooding and ktu esoue Sr- 1 ^' *'^\t';? "^'"-i^"-^ cultivation of^'elso with Uie sceneiy of tl e Highlands. Yet this country which has but one form of Church govern ment. one confession of faith, one form of worship, is more literallv divided more sectarian, than a,,y country I have ever bem in. The Ll Lb ^^^^^^^^^ Free Church to the Establishment (for it is chiefly on tMr na^^ri.!Ln! doubt) are hardiy equalled by those W the Re an cUol^ /g^;^^^^^^^ ?hr£kn Trr^^ «^*!'r '^'^'^ Mohammedan in Dairnvscuftl ^ C hustian. So It has been hitherto, and that, as usual, owing to the cleiiv those sources of so nmch good and of so much evil to the Ch^Si of Gol^^' But I was most thankful to see men tliat were worthies of the F^ee Kirk come to my meetings. This eased my heart. I prayed God to be aWe to spoak truth, that would reach deeper down than alf tS cont oversta an, such as would make for peace. Woul.l that my brethren wouhlcon cen rate hemselve. in faith on doing good ' seeking fi.-st the kingdom of "'a 4:; 1 T"? ^•"" •'* ^' '^"''^"^^^ '^"^ '^"^^ "" other 'things unto horn ^n,t^'^:::^r'^''' '^ '""'^ ^''''' '^ * ^"^"«-^« toallofthe. rPrT"^"''^^~rY''^ !"''^ m..etings at Inverary, Falkirk, and Hamilton (I resbycery). I havt) been lagged, bothered, addled, dowio!" "'"""^**° T'oMrs. Maclkod:— "AnEunRRf?, (ktoberlQik. 1 have a short tune before 1 address tho Synod at two, to write to yon. 18G4-65. 315 I don't know why I should feel so very much to-day ; but I have been for two hours prei^u-ingwitliliead and heart to speak wortl.ily on tlS^^ Bubject. My heart trembles for the ark of God. I do feel lis to be a cnsis m our mission history, and I am so anxio4. In tot^^^ i oui to do His work, m that proportion I feel the terrible nin and eternal loss If It IS not done. I heard Doctor Duff last night. I have no seen dm since we met in Paris, long ago, at the Alliance, nor have I heard limsne he made his great speech in the Assembly of '38. He is of course older and visibly feebler; but that very feebleness was to me srt^uchS e oquen How humbled I felt before him, how inwardly I revered and leeble. Bat he is the living embodiment of work done." To a Relative who had announced hio betrothal :— " Of course I know all you feel and all you think. ' You feel that '-of coui.e you do-' and that if '-of course-' and that no man'-of course- and that your own heart can tell '-no doubt of it-' and that when vou ra^reeTrtl'oi? "'"'""'" '""^'^ '''"''^'^^ ''''■'' ^'^ ^oLZi^Tof- ^^^- God bless you, my dear boy ! No one more dee,.ly sympathizes with The following letter was v itteu afte- opening a box ot edible fund W InllT "^ ^^'VrV^^T.^^'"^ '^^y^' ^^^^^^^' absence from any.?r] bofl''" L ^'''''f'f.' T^ ^^^ 1"« experiments in pisciculture, and stia bettev known lor his lieroic and successful efforts to found a College for Miinstei ;' Daughtert : 'Jo the Rev. Dr. Esdaile, Rescohic :— - _ , " Oct. 2m, 1864. My dear Easdail-or Es.lalo-or Esdailn, for such a queer fellow can- not be easily nmdo out. I received your pnddock stools^ after J retu, "l hmno f rom a mi.ssiou tour. As holy things, or as noxious things, they were so nsxde by the lannly with mingled feelings of awe, mystery, ami {error Ihat death was ni the box wa. obvious to the .senses-but death of what Was It a new murder? A man's head, or a whole chihl, or a, le« of some iinggs? I myselt opened the box with one careful hand while J hel.l mv iJut not of the will, and so 1 thank you heartily for your goo,lwill in send- ing mo the dead y jmison, and congratulate myself on my es<;ape. Why did you expect th,|Har„ny? Your sermon was highly ac.ei^ble but why kil tl'f parson Esda.le! you know what you are, u'n,! if 'you .lon't stop these mvago eastings o.: mare's llesli and nn.shrooms, I'll have you up as a witch ^^ Thanks I say for your ioul intentions, and for my lucky escape. Uq along ! You mnshronm w.i.sting, horseflesh eating, oystca- breeding m.Hse growing, sahnou lishing, Ministers' d«ught(.8 training, good for DVerythujg mortal." * *• t I 316 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. To his Mother :— ^^^ Dr. D,.ff ha. written me . very kind letter to „eet him here next From his Jotirnal :— ^^^'^^:^^t^^^^^^i to spend the Uth Anniver- me to see her before I ^^nt -^ ^^1* !^"™\'*"^^^- ^lie Queen ooniman.lea that the more I was confild n^'hf ^ T/f^l"^* *^ ^^"^''«--- I told h^r tJie truth. That nig]it I wen S« cll/ f "!( responsibility to speak .10ineo a railway accident / VV --_;„■ f, "' '"'^' u'""; ^T''^ t'''^'" ^^ """^^''t "^7 life take an insurant, Ucl^" ; • n'S '^ r '''^'' 'r '''" ^^^ ^^^''^ nyday dn.mu to a conclusion and F ,„.. f " ''•" '•'^«"'»ti"n brought ab.surd foreboding, which I f, |"\Z f. "'^'\" ''^ "'' i""^'''in« at mv half-crown to p.^the c b before .l"' ''''"''.T'^' Wishing^o dmJZ ticket uindow'.nd wi;i;o . "^ , .^';;«^^^^^ T put one down atlh: - -- ^--, „ack. iiaving lo.^otten my drea.u. 1 w,^ ■ ie nice note." 1864—65. 317 t.^ken aJI aback and started. 'I never asked for a ticket/ I said and wfwi eturnmg it, when son.e one over my shoulder said, Tl take it Doctor^ (nndTJtTCt r: r^ t "'' T^"^^'^''^ ''^^'^ ^«k '' for t?e t^t (2 ) As to dreams. The night before last I awoke out of a horrible nightmare I thought the house was burning-Johnnie's room on fire fnd 1 in vain trying to take the dear boy out of the flames. The fact of Ms being 111 smce Sunday with scarlatina made the dream morrminfu I tdd It m the morning, and also what had occasioned it. The day before be and the idea for a few minutes quite possessed me, as any day it midit have become a most complicated problem. ^ J' ^"^ ""fe"^ -After telling this dream, the servant who slept next room to my boy ^^^l"f °/""'.W r ^'' ^^'^ 'P^-^'"^^ '^f' ^" '^'^ ""'Wle of the night,' and cued out to her that his room was on fire, which was all nonsense Jvow, on examina ion I found that my brother had said that day, h iS hearing, to my wile, that the only reason he disliked rooms in the attics hke his, was in event of tiro. This had produced his dream." ' To J. M. LCDLOW, Esq. :— ujj T • 1 T "Jan., 1865. tion Prtw ]; '.""l ^"\"''" "^^''^^'^ *'' ''°"'^"«t' addressing congrega- i^id ^0^^^ '" ^''""'''' '-' ^.«"""^««« t« '"'^n^^^e. papers to writ^, cm-- uspondence to carry on, missionaries to send out and to buy their outfit to finger sh.rts and examine towellings, to visit my people tL days week preach thrice teach a class every Sunday, colleet'mouey to build scho^ und churches at the rate of £1,000 a year for 14 years), to hear every Z^ j.nd woman who cnll on me about everything down to a sore .^n.^er bes™l^ Imving to rear a family and keep my liver right. High art !" * ' From his Journal : — "Heard of Lincoln's death. It will, under God, be a huge blessing to the North, and be tlie ending of the accursed South. ^ "Had Lee or Jelf. Davies been assassinated, what a howl ! This is a mighty era in the world's hi.story. I am ashamed of my country. Thi^ it'oil; V; T f' ""'"'Wu "^«^'""^»'>^« '"y«tery to me; I cannot n.ako 1 ii . A !'''"" "^'^ "*'"*" ^'''■" *'' «"*1«'' *■«»• «'"• gii<"v.)us i»ride. 1 still liope that America will be our noblest and staunri.est ally -n'l lo, Tf *'"' ^'S""'^l";« ,Y?'''^ "'^^ "' *''^^"- «t'-^'"^'tl» »1'«ve mere politics, and say before God, we shall be one in heart for the^ocl of the world ' 1 have never swerved in my sympnthy with the North, and 1 ludiove the day IS not^lar otl when we shall hardly believe that Hritain's sympathy WflH witli the South. Uh, my co.u.try ! Uh. Christian Churches !^ iLJt in (lust and ashes ! ' "I c.innot comprehend man's l.lindn.^ss on this .n.estion ! T n.ioiee in the unity and prosperity of the grand Jlepuhlie ; its strength is a blessed counterpoise to continental despotism and m.-re king-.'n.ft. I have the I'liuhtest hopeH of if« fuMn- l-w ..1. :.,'' that be plainly asserted Soni<^ n7n ^ T '' ^"^ i'^g"Iate us now, let their 4, andVo^ of thonf id vtfinir"''^^^^ f'T'''' ^^^^^^ ^ niled by all that they did would b!?^,!; i ^""-T^ *''''* ^« ^'"^ to be progress' was to be 1 ppo^ by 2L' Tarlf ^^ " ''^ ^'^^--.2000 all 'thefathers'of tlnsijeniration Ishm, f .? ^"''*'"^ *^^ ^I^""«"« «f address this House ft there was a . ,^ . T"^'^' at myself standing x.p to actual ghost-^fbr ai/ yn^S,^.!: I^ Z T t^^ ^ Sle^i;^^ :^— ^^If ,,^V ^^«^' i« ^t^^tl^preseil^r future. Lit us hav^To'nr ^ ,> a X th^ iX^'f 'f^V"^ Y'' «- tion in the light of common sen^^ '^^''"' ^"* ^"""^ ^^ ^^^ ^"^8- he were nowadays to iome am; gst uV^V vddl. S^'^ T''/'/".' ^ be put down as a latitudinarian ? T f,>ar verv n l ' , li'''" I»''^'^''^^^'"ty. could really understand a man who bec-^n^ a Jew n .l' T '''' '""T "^" "« tile to the Gentiles not fnr f).n i f , ^ *" *^'*' ^*^^''-'^' '"^^l a (-Jeu- .no«t thorot^d^d ' Sd n,t <♦ r, ^"^1'^"*^' -^''^l* ^as what he there are some Lo Tus wj ^ Uh not ""^ '* T", f "'^•' ^ ''•■^ ^'''''^^ tion iAi,e„^„,.i unZ^l: ,'■;,, 'Lc::Mt'^';l^'r^ , 'rr- not meat and drink but iJ.rl.fn,.,,.. ^ -^ ' ' '" '^'"^'•'"'u of (loc a and < he tha ^v^ Ch S^f inZ^:^ 'Ir ^"'•'' ""'-'"^ "' *'"" "'^'^^ ^''"^t ;' proved of men' To n V things is acceptable to (iod and ap- i«ice.bearrsign^h!rc;:2x: :'^^j:r^:r -^'^^ f ^'-^ ample— mt I am sure of thi'« n,..f i *• ii ., . ,' tl»' '"•', unity, in thintrs inr)ifr«»r<>nf >;i.,...#.. . ;_ _ii .• ■ '^ ' i x>ow ,t 18 this spnit which should guide the Church of Scotland \ 1864—65. 319" and I think that much of our sectarianism might have been prevented if we and MnVea Tr ^""^"^T/r '"' ^ '''''^^' ^^ opi^lionTof othe^ and It instead of digging a ditch round us, and bragging how much we differed from every other Church on earth, we had made'a few mle bdd.es and had shown a httle more catholic feoling towards otherThurche7on ± • ' '^1 ' \ ' ' ^ think, as a Church, we oudit, with the otbpr ProcK,r l™s i;:i?"r this country, to hold firm by^^ hil"t,^, fS that 13 great and good in a nation has its root in the past. Let us hold Jnn?T r 'I'l' '' P"^ ^^ *''^ ^''-' ^"^» ^« «"r .system of Piesbyterv is good, let us hold fast by its form of goverun,ent. And in reference to dilt mtlne%SiL^Sor ''"^ "^^"' ^'^^ ^ ^e^^'r ^^T^^ Tin' W .1 l\ ^'^r^"" '''^''^' '^^ * "^o'-e cultivated form of wor- ship, has anything to do with Episcopacy. So far from this, I beliSve theTe mprovements will serve to keep back Episcopacy; and. under any cii cum !r?l' I T:^" M^ *° '""^'Z' ^ '^"^^«*^^' «f the National ChurchVf S" to LI't . \^-''. 1 ^^, ^"*^' "^ ^^" '"^^ i^ accordance with my JeeWs to stretch out a kind hand to every Scotchman, and, if I could a kind and protecting hand to every Church in this kingdom ' "I say further, led us hold fost and firm by our Confession of Faith Bu I really wish that gentlemen would feel the delicacy of these ouestiom of tests and signatures, and not be perpetually dragging up tl^, uEt T so\o1pear '' ''" "'""^* '"^ ^^^ question'that^q^uirL finer hSing' nf "ilJpf'' w 7- Jf !^^"^:^l ^^^'^ ^^'ole Confession of Faith as the expression of the Church s taith m the past and in the present. But do not let u^be he Church of the past merely, let us also be the Church of thrpresen and the Church of the future; and this I will boldly maintain, that we are tl e freest Church at this moment in Scotland. I think hone Uy we are I know our respected brethren who left us do not repent doing so and that there is not a step they have taken which they would not honestly .m calmly take agam. But I say also, neither do I repent for a moment "he position I have occupied, but would calmly give over again eCy vote I have given and take again every step I have taken. I believe tlmt God BurranltriiS cT 'f'^'"' ' '7^'' r^ ^'^^'^ - rhfoking\a Snst!tn^?nn 1 I '"''' J"" T ^""^^"'^ ^^^ ^ Constitution-a noble Constiti tion-which secures us freedom, because giving us security at once against the tyranny of the State and the tyranny of the cleiv n,f 1^-?^ t^ hmits of the Constitution we have freedom "Lfthiti^S tZ^x mine all questions brought before us, and to express our judgment upon hem moulding the Church to meet the wants ot" the country ts it now is S^ on the broad ground of our calling as a National Church, a dlholibe-tv we have as a National Church, that I would desire to entert" n HI kincT From his Joitunai, ; — "The A»,6mWy of '66 i. over. One of the most reaotionarj- since '0. m I 1 ] i 1 i ' Mr 320 LIFE OP NORMAN MACLEOD. \ M .1 .^ .1 T.^^'^'ni ^""'i ^. '^^ "^^'^ Assemblies, and more especially in that of the Free Church, is not so much any decision they may have come to on such a question as organs, which is an odd one in the nineteenth cen- tury, as the sjiirit of both. "There is too little freedom to speak in sober truth against anythinc which the majority approves of. There are suspicious whisperings, up tc the howls of an 'orthodox' (help the mark !) brass band, against any man who presumes to question, doubt, or difler regarding non-essentials Youn^ ■ ^T^'^ f? terrified lest they should be considered 'dangerous,' 'doubtful"' broad ' latitudinarian,' ' liberal,' ' not safe.' And so men who think little on public questions, by simply liissing and crying, 'Vote, vote,' easily and without sacrifice get a reputation, where a true man with some fair and lionest doubt on certain matters is despised. The great snaro to weak con- sciences in the present day is not the world so much as the Church so-called. A reformation of any kind appears to me more and more super- natural. *■ *' But Mrs, Partington cannot sweep the ocean back." To J. A. Campbkll, Esq. : — "I have been at Loudoun, my first parish. How I mourned the con- trast between my work as a parish minister now and then ! God has given me other things to do, and so I must accept of them. But any good results trom wholesale public work can only be anticipated by faith, while the per sonal work of the minister, the house to house, face to face, heart to heart work, IS a present, immediate, and sure reward. Few things amaze me more than the tolerance of my present flock. I comfort myself by believ ing that God, who knows all the outs mid ins between us, has in mercy spared me the pain of seeing them distrusting me and leaving me Had they done so, I would at once have given up everything else, shut ofi" all public work, and fallen back on the i)astoral. It needs all my faith not to become peevish and miserable with myself, "I had a long call from David Livingstone last week. A Yankee parson was in the drawing-room, and hearing how I was engaged, insisted on being introduced. He came down, shook hands with Livinastone sav- ing, ' Sir— I have heard of you ! '" b , «*j' His Journal contains a deeply interesting account of the interviews lie had with Dr. Pritchard, wliile this notorious criminal was lyiucr under sentence of death for poisoning his wife and mother-in-law"- but the same motives of regard for tlie feelings of relatives which enjoined silence at the time, still exist to enforce reserve on this pain- lul subject. ^ To Mrs. MACLEOD : — " Friday.—VlQAm do not excite yourself when you see by the papers that I have been with Pritchard to the last. I thought it rather cowardly to let Oldham do this work alone when we had shared the previous portion of It. So I offered to go, and I am glad I did. I saw it all from first to last- was with hiiu lu \m cell, and walked at his back till he reached the scaf" 1864—65. 3 especially in lay have come ineteontli cen- inst anything lerings, up tc inst any man ;ials. Young s,' ' doubtful/ 10 think little ;e,' easily and 3ome fair and to weak con- the Church, I more supoi- 321 ned the con- od has given good results hile the per- 3art to heart s amaze me f by believ- as in mercy 5 me. Had shut oflF all faith not to A Yankee fed, insisted jstone, say- interviews was lyiijg er-in-law ; ves which this pain- papers that award ly to portion of rst to last.; id the scaf s^ me-iir csiCS t-^r '^ '"» - '^^opf^at ,'' Marvellous and complex character ! " Think of a man so firm as to sav, smilintr to Oldhflm « T a«. ~i j have come with your gown and ban£ ! ' " ^' ^ ^"^ ^^^^ ^'^''^ "I am for ever set against all public executions Thev bmt^lkp f^. tSlri.;.*'" ■'° ™- --ngto the„ than UU-^ZX^Ts^. " And then the fuss, the babble and foam of gossip, the renortin^ fnr f),« press &c., over that black sea of crime and death ! ^ ^ ^^ ^"^ ^^^ fetrange to say, I felt no excitement whatever but onlm ^^A . i I gazed at him while praying for his poor soul tUl'th last But I l?n^ indulge in sensation sketches. May God fordve an mv n... • ^ T Sr' ""^^' "'■ -"' *"^ """" - '»' ^ rlZKUghlr Fro7H his Jodrnal :— not nliv l„°ly;. 1 , ' "'"°''' <'"l»i™™ does it make having Ofciisl To tho Rev. W. F. Stkvknsom— <,T„_ ,. ,. "FlUNAUY, >!«;/««< 13i "^T^ ^'''''' ^* ™ ^"^Pos- He therefore felt Sm elf b^^nd t^^fniT ^''k^ ^'' ^''^^^^ te^ the grounds ^Sr diffe^el^r^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^-^y- ins?Ltt;l t^^^^^^^ °f the JeS'^Sath was an the observance onS^^^^ ^^^^^ °- T^^l^ to rest the one institution, wS applfon^w^^^^^ regulations as to changing conditions of society fn ^oll a\^ °*^'f ™^'^' ^^th the evils in her future tLn irhe?past Sort Tn^' ^''^':'''''' '' ^'''''' enforcement of Sabbatar anilm^flfp'l ^i^^" proportion to the strict plied those practfcS Tco^i^^^^^^^^^^^ '^ ^^' °P^"^?' ^' ^"^ti- sophistries which prove i nlTfl ' ^^^^"/sties, and Pharisaic and religion. It w^'t eieJorf .' >?T'^J ^.^^""^^^tal to morality divinesa'nctionsof «; t dtd^v f^^^ ^'T '^ vindicating the he addressed the litrv tnf if Z''^''''*^ pom the Sabbatht that deep sense of respons bil t7ihe ^tn f "'"^ 'I'' ^' ^'"^^^^^P^ted, with a views were certai^to inS'on mC ^V"'''^ 'f "' '"^ ^^'' P^"^ Ws This snpprb iit<. 11- . '^"^ °^ ^"s countrymen. giveffrcJn £o f^anrf n"' '' n' 'P^^^^^^^' ^^^« «°t written out but notes. iTsiItanc^^ 7f '^''" ^^j^ °^^"' nnintelli ibb prepared: the t.uLXard\- „;? ?''^ ''^''^"l^^ ''^^^ thoughtfully the mutilated S" f ;£ tiSZ arranged, but newspapers created an impiS^irnnr^^^^^^^ ! ^/'^ appeared in the to disturb the public niLdTt^nlV Ti'^"'*^, '"^"'^^ ^^« calculated address which^thouX rtidit T}l '^ ^^^^.^^^^ expected that an four hours in dih "^ ' ffi T^f "' °''"P''^ ^^tween tlu-ee and must always be a maYt'er^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ S '\ ""Tt^^ ''^''''^ ' ^"t it argument/which oame^Xr^s ^nm^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Z^ m ■i 324 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. while the latter part, enforcing the divine obligation of the Lord's-dav was omitted Had the pubHc been better informed from the first as to tiie true character of his sentiments, there would have been less of i ^ ^T! ??is^J,"Lderstanding and excitement which, once raised, is so dimcult to allay. * As It was, the outburst of popular feeling was amazing. His views were not really startling, for they were common to perhaps a majority of the best theologians of the Eeformed Churches.f Yet, if the speaker had renounced Christianity itself, he could scarcely have produced a greater sensation. He became not only an object of suspicion and dislike to the unthinking and fanatical, but he was mourned ovor by many really good men as one who had become an enemy to the truth His table was loaded with letters remonstrating with him, abusing him denounc- ing, cursing him. Ministers of the Gospel passed him without recocrni- taon ■ one of these, more zealous than the rest, hissed him in^the street. During the first phase of this agitation he felt acutely the lonehness of his position : — '^ "I felt at first so utterly cut off from every Christian brother that, had a chimney-sweep given me his sooty hand, and smiled on me with his black ta«e 1 would have welcomed his salute and blessed him. Men apolo<^ised for havmg been .seen m my company. An eminent minister of the Free Church refused to preach m a United Presbyterian pulpit in which I was mZ\ , . w u'^l?^^- ^''i""'' harangued against me in City Hall and Merchants Hall The empty drums rattled and the brazen trumpets blew certain sounds in every village. ' Leave the Church ! ' ' Libel him ' ' were the brotherly advices given. Money was subscribed to build a Free Barony C lurch ; and a Free Church mission house was opened beside mine (though having no reference to me ' as it was said ! ). Caricatures were aisplayed m every shop window." The condition of religion in the country which this tide of bitterness revealed burdened him with sorrow, In one sense he never enjoyed greater peace of spirit, nor was he once tempted to waver in his resolu- tion , but he felt so keenly the prevalence of intolerance and injustice under the cloak of zeal, that all who saw him during these three weeks were struck by his chastened and sad aspect. There were some conso- lations however, mingled with the grief. Tl>e Presln'teiy acted with marked courtesy, and conducted the discussions in a spirit of the most Iriendly consideration. "They were very kind, and did not utter a har«h word. I did not retract a syllable ; nor was I asked to do so." liie Kirk-session of the Barony cheered him by presenting an address expre:.siye of their unshaken confidence, and his congregation to a man remained loyal. The hope that good would result from the controversy gradually prevailed over other feelings. Qu^^-'S^Kobirt^xr^rk:*" *''^ ^"^"*- ''' '"^^^^ ^^^-^^^- «f «^« Sabbath le Lord's-day, m the first as i been less of e raised, is so is views were ajoriiy of the speaker had iced a greater nd dislike to many really I. His table im, denounc- lout recogni- him in the acutely the er that, had ith his black n apologised V of the Free svhich I was ity Hall and umpets blew Libel him ! ' build a Free beside mine jatures were 'f bitterness ^er enjoyed . his resolu- id injustice iliree weeks ome conso- acted with of the most lot utter a I to do so." an address n to a man ontroversy le afterwards the Subbttlii SABBATH CONTROVERSY 325 nf wwl'™^"^"" ^"f *^°?'" h« ^^"tes, " is fast merging into the higher ona of whether we are to gam a larger measure f ministerial liberty In inte? fh SiS ^:T V^ A^^'^r "'^^' '^ ^«* *--^ thelLnti^ f !?!nr • ^; 1/ the i^ssembly passes without my being libelled T f^l^T, ^T"\ ^'' -^'^ Established Church, and at the^risHf m7ecct i Bn l;f^'.f'''r '^ ^"^"^'^ ^^'^ ^^^' and for this I shall tha^nkSr But should they drive me out, that day will see national evangelical libeitv driven out for many a day from the dear old Church." ^'^^''^^'''^' ^'^^' ^^ off:t!5 ^'^ Of tolerance on the part of the Church in his case would afTord a practical solution to some of the difficulties connected S subscription; It would indicate the light in which sh^wthed her standards to be regarded. " The Confession, when read lik^the Bible While recording the sadder aspects of this trying period it is well to remember that the suddenness of the excitement mFseTa^ahist hfm refresh n/trMpo '''\^ misunderstandings and alienations, it is relieshmg to bear in mind how soon all seemed forgotten in the con- hdence with which his own Cluncli lionoured hint, and whidi was also accorded by the other Churches of the land. To his Sister Jane :— ^,^ , _. , " November \m, U65. (^od, I solemnly believe, has given me a great work to do ind T bnvA accepted it keenly alive-if possible, too keenly alve-t7m^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ bihty-to the privilege I enjoy in the discharge of a great di.ty Ld to the sorrows and sufferings which it involves, perhtps for life. I s^ee the truth Wt fsk Vou tof """ '''''' """^^^ '''^'^'^S^ P^*^^ *h-* - before m"! don t ask you to pass any opinion on what I have said till you see my speech in ftill when published. I d«n't expect you even then to agree with it at bra've lietrt f'^''^ '^'^ ^ """^ ^" ^'^' '"' P'"^^ "^^ '''^^' ^ «^"S^« ^^^ -nd Letter to Rev. George Gardiner, Annan :— "Glasgow, November Idth, 1865. " I return you my hearty thanks for your note just received and I -ittich S thTkind whi V Vr ^'"•^«^.-^«3^-P-% from L fact th^tt i; is th S 01 tne Kind wlucli 1 iiave received. eanisf Tr^ ''"^T^ """ *'"' w=u--only beginning- without much thought, earnest prayer, and a very sohmin sense of my responsibility whether f TrSs^n s"';, " 1 T ''" ,""" ^ '""'^^^^' - *'- «t-t« of^^i-dV; o " nd parties in Scotland, the more luus the 'fire burned' in mv verv bon^^ nntil 1 cuiild not, daiud nut but utter what, so far as I can judge, God lias'eiven me to utter. Hut I foel in my inmost heart the burdeii .li^h I nirtfarry :hl ll 1; 326 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. i I ^B 1 'i,; ■.\i' ■((■ 1 1 I 1 f 1 'II f m ■1 m n «M- many a day, probably for life. I could escape this kind of burden bv wlence or by flight, and the flesh has often cried out in this and in other conflict, which in Providence 1 have been called to fight, ' Oh, that I had the wmgs of a dove,' to fly to some hut in the wilderness, in some lonely «Ien that I might be at rest. But then would come other burdens which I could not carry, which would crush me— the burden of a bad conscience of w*i r '.fT*""*^^^ 'P'"*' ""^ ^ ^''^'^ ^^*^* *« '^a"' and therefore to God With truth I can dare to meet bad men and devils, and what is worse good' dear brethren sincerely believing I am wrong, and grieving for me— which IS to me a seething in my mother's milk ; but with conscious untruth in any shape or form, I could not meet myself without fear and shame, far less my God. Yet with all this, do not think me suff-ering aught but noble pains such as I welcome, ike the cross, as God's great gift. I enjoy perfect ^eace! I have blessed freedom and peace in opening my whole heart and ways to Christ for He understands our thoughts, will deliver us from evil, and lead us and all who seek Him into truth in the end. "St Paul in his Epistles and spirit is more than ever clear and dear to me. As soldiers cried once, ' Oh, for one day of Dundee !' so do I feel dis- posed to cry, ' Oh, for one day of Paul !' How he would puzzle and astonish and possibly pain our Churches, ay, us all, for he is far in advance of us all yet ! But as Max Piccolomini, when wishing for an angel to show him the true and good, said, why should he wish this when he had his noble Thekla ynth. him to speak what he felt ; so much more surely you and I and all who seek the truth may have peace, with the loving, patient, and wise Spirit and Guide, who will search us and lead us into all truth ! " Some think I am leading a forlorn hope. Be it so. Then men will enter the citadel over my dead body, and perhaps bury me with funeral honours when I am enjoying rest elsewhere. "As to consequences, I have nothing to do with them. I have faith in Christ as the Head of the Church and of the world. It is enough that I have to do with right and wrong. To know that— to observe that— to mea- sure the real angle, and let the two sides be prolonged, if so be, ad infinitum, that alone absorbs all my thoughts, demands all my strength, calls forth all my prayers, demands all my faith. If I am wrong, may God in his infinite mercy destroy all my works, saving my soul that trusts Him, even as it were by fire ! " The battle is but beginning. It will pass over to the more difiicult ami more trying one of the relation of Confessions to the Church, its members and ministers. Who will abide this sifting? I think I have light on this too and may be helpful to man, a perplexed mind when the battle comes If 1 am to be made the occasion of its being fought, amen ! It is God's will" But sufficient for the day is both its evil and God's grace. " I am going to print my speech in full. I would have spoken four hours had time been given. Much was unsaid and much said of vast importance which was not reported. "Thank God, the debate was conducted in the most fair and kind spirit My whole feeling towards all who difter is an earnest desire that they may see the truth— Churches above all ; for what can 1 do for those who neither love Christ nor would have a holy, blessed Lord's Day. "Prayforme;— yes, do in faith -that I may be kept calm, peaceful, i J )f burden by and in other K that I had some lonely- dens which I onscience, of ibre to God. worse, good, ■ me — which truth in any , far less my noble pains, erfect peace, and ways to n], and lead and dear to lo I feel dis. md astonish ice of us all ow him the able Thekla d I and all . wise Spirit n men will ith funeral '/e faith in )ugh that I it — to mea- l infinitum, lis forth all his infinite even as it ifficnlt and s members ;ht on this ttle comes. God's will. four hours tnportance ind spirit, they may bo neither peaceful, SABBATH CONTROVERSY. f^ 327 simple, Bincere; and that in mercy to myself and others i may be kent if ?nl .'>.^^'''^^''' T"/^"'" injuring Christ's cause, and bTled rnto'aU " I remain, your brother in the best of bonds." A BATTLE-CRY TO MY FRIEND AND FELLOW-SOLDIER PRINCIPAL TULLOCH.* Brother ! up to the breach For Christ's freedom and truth ! Let us act as we teach. With the wisdom of age and the vigour of youth. Heed not their cannon-balls, Ask not who stands or falls. Grasp the sword Of the Lord, And Forward ! Brother ! strong in the faith That " the right will come right,'* _ Never tremble at death, Never think of thyself 'mid the roar of the fight. Hark to the battle-cry. Sounding from yonder sky ! Grasp the sword Of the Lord, And Forward ! Brother ! sing a loud Psalm, Our hope's not forlorn ! A a. ^^^^^ storm comes the calm. After darkness and twilight breaks forth the new morn. Let the mad foe get madder, Never quail ! up the ladder ! Grasp the sword Of the Lord, And Forward ! Brother ! up to the breach. For Christ's freedom and truth, If we live we shall teach, With the stmng faith of age and the bright hope oi youth. li we perish, then o'er us Will ring the loud chorus, Gi'iisp the sword Of the Lord, And Follow ! • Principal TuIIooh haa just delivered a stirring address on the question of Cr«Hi.. J28 LIFE OF NOHMAN MACLEOD. To the late Dr. Robert Lke :— tn r^P'l'" ^ *flble hurricane, but I have a stout heart, a good shin liaht to steer by, and, thank God ! a conscience kept in perfect poTce ^' ^ dentfi;r&br:r^^^^^ ^^^^ -^ «^-^^ ^« --' p- i^roTO his Journal :— , ''Last Sunday o/'66.— I will not anticipate the future it is amnlv .nffi Jesl Chrr Wif T "":' ^"f ^^r ^« -^'"'^ - '^"' -^ oUTntoTher" Jesus Lhrist. With heart, soul, and strength, I give riorv for all tlip nnT and commit all to the blessed Trinity for tlfe f^'itufe witS a^y feir not a shadow, btit in perfect peace, and with but one prayer from t^ie Tenth of my heart hat we all may know God's will-that we^all may be enabS to c mg to a hvmg, personal Saviour ; that is to live trulv^God and mal law^^iTser^^^"'""^' ^°^°"^^^' ^^^' ^' — ' obeJien«y,l "llTa ^ Z'r ^ T'"'; *" '""'°'"'' """ "''™'' ■" '".V ^>'oh life have I exnerienoed so much real deep sorrow, never so tote.1 the bitter cup of thrjnmS. Church. Oh ! It was awful ; it gave me such an insight .nto the suftriZ terht:pj;''.^-;,;trwi;r:rL--^^^^^^^^^^ their truth ""' "" '""°'' "<"'«■'"«"» «*"> » doeper sense of A^ntdZr' "'" '"■"*'" "" '"^ *'"'"^' »"'' "■'» "f'^^ «% yea™ I 7*0 his Sister Janb :— ur • .- . , " Pchruary m, 1866. but fS"'**''*'' ^"^^ferftnco, misropresentation, snoakinoss, make mo half-mad' li^rd^pTll-'s-h^^^^^^^^ come to me a share of His brotherlv love to nil Vu U • i T '''" in .tn"i, ':';f!fi nTl!''":';,'« «;;"'«^'""^'. ^'"i'oW"'g in the att<.mpt. and have7tfurdPam« nf ];"'"7-T ^ J'"''V' ^••>' ""' '^P'"' *" P'-"duoe it. J nave tittul gleams of it, which .vssuro me it exists, an.i for me too, as wM SABBATH CONTROVERSY, 329 ^!/l7*^r- .v,^"* *^''' ^^ ^ ^"^ ^"^ ^y b«"«« ^hi<^li ^on't, I fear, go out I «h?l t^ *^' P'^T" f ^"^^"^^ ^^^^- Then thank God, iWilf ^d 1 shall know even as I am known." ' " '^"' ^" From his Journal : — a t^e^t tSytw:^^^^^^^^^ '^'"^^^' ^^"^'--^^^ - *« P^-t Th'^ nld If "" •'^'''''''' ^^*^ ''^x Thursday night, by the yacht for Portsmouth m'/f^lt^Sa "" ' "^"'" ^' *^^^ ^^^"'^ ^^--^ - Campbeltownt f^ol'^i^ '"°''\"'- ''"^'"'y ""^^'^^ *^'^'« P^«* w«ek8 the more I believe that I have done what was right. T do not say that my brethren wh. have lifff Z- '''"' 1'"' ^■■'"^- ^^ ^^^y' I h°P«' be Lth accordb^o our hght, building each a portion of the wall of Jel-usalem, though on o'piS "But the awful conviction is deeply pressing itself upon me that the gospe IS not preaclied generally in Scotlail, that so called 'Evr^ica ism' "Thank God I am free, never more shall I be tiammelled bv what partKsan Chnstuvns think. One Master, Christ and His Word shaU ^e guide me, and speak I will when duty calls, come what may. i wiU return their adverse feeling to me, by seeking to sot them free, /f the C lu ch of l^X^T ' "' '" ''"''*"" ''" "°"^' ^'^j"^^^ '^ "^"^' ^- To Dr. Chartkris : — aJl n.''"''' *,'' ^""V ? ^T"^' ''"^^ "^"«* °^ '^" ^ b^i"g '^I'le to see farther and n.ore independently than some of our so-called leaders n„. 1 1 ■ ' ■ ■ M ^?"^*;'^i^ce ! If we are to have conferences, surelv there c d very easily be found subjects of discussion of more consequence to the Ch nch and to Glasgow than this. But it has always been thus with 1 v, e,! orthodox clergy, straining at gnats an.l swallowing camels ' ' t^.LT T r^^ "^i '•"'''""" ^ ^'""'* «"^l tJ»« ^hole moral law in the ten cwmmandmentH, or because I think the Decalog,.e a covenant with I rael^ and as such not bin.ling on us, and base the Lord's-day orChr s an It coven,uit ! tonfenmco ! Jf it were not my resolution to breed no disturb. rev"y";;LT" '^'•'^'""' ' "" "^^^ ^ '^''' ^''« ^'-^« --^ ^^-^1;;.. To the Same :— ,,^ , , " March 2(\th, ISOfJ. «rer^d,i.,g puHHiniG to reiu,ve them from the (lit»-c„ltv in which thov fpol h.unselves placed^ I am bound even to help them to 1 tl" duty tlS m Uieir don.g so I may n.yself sulfer. I wish to save my truth and hoS. i I li < I! 380 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. "I had a weary but good time in the South. In eitrht d«v« T ,...«.!, a «x sermons, and spoke at seven meetinjrq FnnJ. L ^1 ^ \ P'^^^'^^^ed least. There is some life inTe olTdog fet !" "^" ^°"' "^'^ '^ ^"^^ ^* From hit Jourmal :— edition ofhis lectures * The fifmr hnf i • .''''^ *° ^"""^ «"* a new opinion there as weH "as here Behnl/T'f '''*" *^'" '°'""^*«' '^^^^ "^i^^^^d kindleth ! The Jeat m^Z\.iff ^ 'V" ^'^''* "'^^^^^ * ^it*^^ ^Park tible state of he^rblirmrnd^Im^ ^^^^'^^ "^^ *^^ «««^bu3- rianism. My spee'ci'dX^d tifh n ^efth^i^^^^^^^ ^^^bata to me a clear and necessary duty, was the liTZ^vlt ^'^f^-'^^ «' has created has been unparalleled since '43 ^ ^' excitement it seem to gnash their teeth on me ^ ^^ *^"""S^^ *^^ ^^^^^^ P'-««« ^t:SJ:^L ^ririrj;* 2;.t;r4;ts "Dear Sir, 1845 i think I left Glasgow for Skjf where b«lT,^ f °''r T^ \'^^ ^ho Sabath in was nine years there eve?y one k?nt abr* thn R If *^ f -i™^ ^l*''"" ^""^ " «'»«" »'•»"" I my father parted this lif i^ 23 SfMl mother o £V^^^^^^^^^^^ '" ""«,"'' ^^^y™" year leaving n.e with five young ohil,h^,Tho S'lesVlttwolnf ? ",'^,''''^° ^'* '^^''y «a"io youngest a Smart Boy this day never ^w a mo ?! v«t fl^ m""'*, " 7'^ y*"^""" "''^ *''«' month J kept with them for two voaJsfi^j. H?Hli^* ^ sent the child to nnrs at 15« . brink of starving I t..Id tl em riast tLf f i' '?, .H*'^*'? f"^^' ""^ life at last on the one shiliy and 7 to pay tlio 1. S UKT^^iT,? fo^ l'"^!^"'' r""."*™^ ^ '»"'• ^ ^'^^ them but no relief on Sate Vday night hevirt,L„-"^ ^ Tl'^Tl "" ^^''^"■"'^''^ "»«! lato got un thoy werewitho,.ur. sel o^fS sure of r, n''^ *'" late on Sunday when they told fier sister to go with her and c itT ■ som llu . ' "" Z^^'' "''' ''^« ^^''"t °»t and where the botatoes' was planted tL^L Ze a «! ""'? -""'"« '" «*«''* I ha,l two splendid eats mother an.f da i^) ter as ,1 t .1 1. ' ''"* 1'""'" *'» *''« "^ on tlie tail and on the head they w mv ft SamlT,^ f H?^°^^^ '"''"'^V' f^^ '''"''"^ «P"t» If we had some kitchen now with tim n mK ff I ,1 f *"■" *""' "U''" "''"J''"" "'"•l in a short time one of the cats came i.wUh „ f? V i •' /".^""f T '^""''^ ^« »» "ght but halted he tok in a fl.h to Ih ofZ^bHriill '!flll'l*l^'* ^«'^'«..«- ^re before he noiy ,al that stood at the lire all the time "wmihi F,i^«'il"'VIV'J" ^"^ '''"^'' ''*•'» ^he should be givea to Uie publiok bui jou S the S X' '" """" ' ''^"''' " C preached 1 a half at leen to me ion of the ke one of fected CT 1 fc, witi jai ng. aich ■esi e to ine in the Saturday, lit a new d divided bt]e spark 3 combua- Sabbata- charge of tement it iipreliend lily press lich were ) when I iontaininff id learned ne ono of '^abath in 11 farm I liesi" years any same rs old the I nt 15« a at on the io8siblo I left them ntil late hen they t out and in sight I the lira I'k spota Iren said •iKht hut t'Tore ha iish the think it SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 331 mth ttx Sahbath when I denied that tl,e tIm'^j That I dtd awaj, XZl on the perpetual obH^ rf V^LSclr^^enr b?t tZ |rounas. 6. i/mt I gave up the Decalogue as a rule of Ufe «W thc^.Z. had no hwto iruide life, when I denied that we remLd to go t^MosIltn' a rule having Jesus Christ, and that the gospel wL not a merp rnf!T f ' simit not,' to the gcpel • Believe and live.' Td I am^^aded ttt thl T !«„ i . m ^o "' """ '^ *" P"™' ™'l the King-' Father dorifv Thy Son that Thy Son may glorify Thee i' rumer, gionly ^hrvSAT^rnir" "^ "" ■»"»-'-'"' s-tcathofrd'asr: rrsfhetriti-srand^^^^^^^^^ coheient, bold form what they l.td long practically felt. They had lon^ IbirrV^ '"'r'^' "'"':^'"'^' Reclamations from platform and pulpH aiou? Sabbath desecration,- as it is called bv those who themselves emnhl .^ ! or mx k carts, &c., on Sabbath. No voice was lifted Tin defen eTf t Chnstmn hberty except by so-called secular papers, » «., nonieTta.i o • non-Church papers What co,ild any laymaA do?' Tl e Sri^^^^^ heir own way, and woe be to the man who among thelelves^wouTd darl ^ol iTl . '*• ^' ^^"'' "^ "^^'"•'"^^' ''« ^«»Jd soon be cr,islied by the «ir gohcal battering rams. If he had any influe.ice to nu,ke I imse ? heZ" hat influence nught orever be destroyed. What w.u, to be bn whe^^f Cl T *'' M^*" P^jniitted? If either of the other ClnuvhT Id Yes the other wouhl .say No, and so the union would end. If 0^^! « «Umt the Ignorant an. eonsch-ntious, drille.l by their ole gy f om C' in Sabbatarianism wou d force tliem to .speak out. Jf lK,t»fw ," y No^ d n they would check incipient liberty among the younger ol^'!'; Tboth Churches awo the laity and force the EstaWishn.ent to join hc^^ 5^* rho hstabhshment was as narrow. A stern clergy-power would r2n 'fl!^ conhtion would soon .l.mt.ny flw> i.Vk.i.!;..i.,„„. . E.^ ,\ "".'" ^^W > *"e while it would have no'i:l.^^^^tiT:^JZ:^tli,^:'''' T' ^"'t' -cusiv.totheutn.st sti.tch^.f i.or c^:i^:::^t^2o)ri.z::^ oi true Ireedom without licontiousnesa repiostntativH ■ 5 r ill 332 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. J • ! I "The politics of the one party were to represent the past only, to lie at anchor as if the ej „f ^j^^ ^^^^^^ .^ j^.^^^^,^ ^^ ^^^^i^^^^ ^^ y> ^^^^ Iinding c^ the Westminster Assembly as perfect and incapable of improve- ment. The politics of the Church, as involved in this struggle, are, sail on, not back, to hold by the past, but to grow out of it, and as a living or- game whole to develop all that is good in it into a stronger, expansive, and more fruitfu tree Whether we could or can do tL.. with a Confession wJuch IS part of the constitution of the country, was and is the question. ' Ihere is a set of ecclesiastics who will not read a book, a newspaper, ot argue with any one who does not reflect their own sentiments. They look into tlie gla^i and say, ■' I see every time I look there one who always agrees with me. That is their whole world, and of the rest they are profoundly Ignorant. j i j "The members of Presbytery were in a very painful and difficult posi- tion My departure from the letter of the Confession was not only evi- dent, but was so 111 a degree and to an extent which was almost unprece- dented, and could not be overlooked without making the Presbytery sus- pected of indifterence or moral cowardice. On the other hand, they had no persona ill-will to me. while many had the very kindest feelings to me --— called for me twice, and the upshot of our conversation was, that I dec ared what I would not and what I would do. I would not recant or withdra^v one word I had uttered, simply because I did not as yet see that 1 had uttered anj^hing wrong ; that if I left the Church I would do so with self-respect, and that I would not propose to the Presbytery to do anything ihey must act according to their conscience; so must I; each realizim^ our responsibility to God, and leaving all results to him. But. short of tlio sacrifice of my honour and sense of truth, I would act with all courtesy, ail kindness, and help to carry their burden of responsibility, as I wouLl wish them to carry mine. Accordingly I did not vote on what was an important question, the committ(>e, which if carried would have brought the whole matter up to the Assembly in a formal manner. "And so in the meeting of Presbytery which afterwards took place. I admitted that I had taught against the Confession of Faith, that no doubt that was the tact, but asserted that either all had done the same or did not m every iota believe the Confession, therefore the question turned on wiiether I had so differed from the Confession as to necessitate deposition I 1 thus at the risk of my ecclesiastical life established the princijile that all ditlerenccis from the Confession, apart from the nature of the difference did not involve deposition. Henceforth we shall keep our Confession with I)ower to depose on any point of diHerence. yet judicially determining what jjoint or what degree of difference. A great gain ! "In so far as the question of ministerial liberty was concerned, thank God I have gained th(i day. and it is a bright day for Hcotlaml, which will not bo followed l)y night, but shine on unto the perf.x-t day, which to me would be the 8ubj(!ction of every soul to the teju-liing of Jesus Christ, the one proi>het of the Church, and to Moh(>s mid His prophets as His servants, whose tea(!hiiig is to b(* interpreted by that of tli(^ Alaster's. "Their admoniticm was not |)ronou"nced but rt^conled, and T said that it was mterc'stnig as lK>ing probably the last which should b(. addressed to any hiinisUM- ui the Church lor teaching m 1 did, and (liat I would show it koii»h SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 333 day to my son as an ecclesiastical fossU. They only smiled and said he rll 'T^\^f^^''^\'\ All was good humour, and why they did not see or feel the victory I had gained I cannot tell." To A. Strahan, Esq. :— ar,^' WW*^^ Assembly won't depose -but having risked all for freedom wHphtm "^ 1 '"''P"«?i^* having lost an influence in this country which will never be regamed by me in this world, though the next gener^ tion will reap freedom from it." gcueia^ From his Journal : — "Jum, 1866.-.Th6 Assembly is over, and not one personal allusion was made regardmg me, far less any unkind word. Most wonderful ! Most unac- tor It I believe kind personal feeling had something to do with it, so some truthful men told me. But it has also been said that convictions weie^ general and s rong on my side, as a whole, to make any discussion safe, and "ttlVate of'the'r!' '^l '''I ''T "' '> T^ '^''^ ^ --^""^ ^^ actual state of the Church. Anyhow, I thank and praise God for Hi' lo^tt^r^'/ ^''7f'V T^ ^' '""^^^'^ '"^ "«« ^his liberty humbly, Zrfjl'^i 7r^^^^^ '""" ^'' ^^ "'^- ^ *™^* '^^' ^ ^h*" be able more than evei to strengthen men s convictions as to the blessedness of the Lord's-day, be ible'to^r r ^""f 1 ^''n^ t '^^ "^*« '^'' ^''•^- I h<>Pe also £ be able to check any tendency which some possibly may entertain of beinc I fir/w T "if t"^« '^^/-fgarcis catholic truth and vital Christianity! I hope that my freedom, which has been obtained at a great price, may ever be used to bring men under law to Christ, and never direct y or indiLtly to be perverted into a cloak for licentiousness, or for conceited puppies to Churl ^""'''"" "^'■^^^^'^«"' «»• *fa« proprieties of ouf National „,'.'?^'',l"{.*'''*^^'; ^'f^ '"^' gi^'? ""'^ ^ single eye, a pure and loving heart Deliver me rom the temptation of party. Hdp me to be ever con sistent with the truth, and ever teach me by Thine infinite power, wisdo'n and love, what he truth is. Let Thy Spirit pierce through all th^ cru t^" selfashness vanity, ambition, and the love of man's approvd, and enable me come what may, to keep Thy blessed will before mi,\nd to follow it unto " It is far more dillicult to act rightly in prosperity than in adversity, ^hen victorious than when defeated. At all times how difficult to be hum- be to consider others, to be subject one to another, to have the love that vauntetli not itself ! " Almighty Go.l ! In infinite niorcy, keep mo from being tiuo to any Church or party, yet false to Thee, or to the truth as it is in Jesus ^ A tow yea.^s more, should the.so be given, and my work is done. Grant, oh my bather, that it may be so done as that I nuiy be acknowIedKod as a aith^ul servant. Forgive, forgive, forgive! through'the bloo.l of Jesus shed ror the remission of the sins of the world." From the kto Rer, F. D. MAUEfnp, -^ "I have been writing a short book, 'On the Commandments aa Instru- menu, ior I reserving and llestoring National Life and Freedom.' J i i f ; 11 i \i 334 LIFE OF NORMAN- MACLEOD, high respect I feel foTy^ and mv ^. /'" *^'' ^ ^^«''^ "^P^^«« ^^^ while I derate Twidelv ft'n™ « ^^ *^;^«»g^ f gi-eement with your object, dedicati y^^ ^* "^"^^ ^a^e to PolW w '• r ^"^"^^ ^"^^ nervous about it, if it Imd haDnened * I 5| M^' ! rl i ! I if ^'^ 336 ZIFH OF NORMAN MACLEOD. ;ii s 1 To his MoTHEJi : — "Abergeldie, "It was reported to me the other day, with perfect confidence, that the young Prince was deformed in his hands. I saw and kissed the child to fero^tLrL !'' ^''^' ^"'"'' ^'^ "^^^^ ^'''^''''''' ^^' I -- saw. To Canon Kingsley :— "Adelaide Place, April lOth, 1867, "When I wish to remember a friend daily I don't answer his letter for :ZZ f t^T'^l an immediate reply. What a presence he becomes, and liow humbled and ashamed one feels before him, especially when we have no excuse for our silence which can bear his scrutiny ! Bv this sin lul process 'how often hath my spirit turned to thee ? ' ever since I received your note ! I won't tell you how much I felt on reading your note I shall leave it to my boys that they may, when I am gone, learn from it that one so great and good gave their old dad so hearty Jnd firm a grasp of his hand God bless you for it ! With all my heart I return it, fof allVu are and a Glencairn has been to me.' I send my 'plan,' as a Highland latd termed his wife's 1 keness^ to your lady, proud that it may find a humble place in her collection The only inscription I am inclined to write onit would be, Eccles. ii. 15, last clause." "Blackheath, Friday Morning, IQth May, 1867. "Had such a congregation yesterday! Such a church! I was very happy, my heart was in it, and the people seemed thankful. They save audible expression more tlmi once, laughing outright, and semi-applause ! Newman Hall Mullens, Dale, Rogers, &c., were present, and many^sion- aries, all so afi-ectionate It was a happy night, and I thank God for it • antl so will you, dearest. ' From his Journal : — "I spent last fortnight in the South. Visited Manchester and Leaminc'. » T, t V W ^°'^- ^o°iP<^sed in train, ' Whistle the Mavie.' ° Published the ' Curling Song,' last month, in Blackwood. Lived with Dean Stanley from the 16th till the 18th." The story of the "Starling," on which he was now engaged was suggested by a note which he received the day after his speech on the Glas 0W-— ^ ^'^"'''' ^'^'*''''" ""^ ^^^ i2e/brwter's Gazette in " f "ff«J ^^ to give you the following story which I heard in Perth up- wards of forty years ago. A very rigid clergyman of that city had a very Ss ^t^.T^''^^f^1'''^^^^^'^^^ "^ ^^^^^"^'^ liking for birds of an kinds, not a few of which he kept in cages, and they chSered him in hia daily work. He taught one of them in particular (a starlinft) to whistle some of our finest old Scottish tunes. It happened o^n a fine Sabbath moit ing the starling was in fine leather, and aa thn miria+nv w„. ,,oo,„,v„ i,„ i.« heard the starling singing with great glee in his cage outside his door,"' Ower ' Abergeldie. Bnce, that the the child to- I never saw. •il lOth, 1867. his letter for s he becomes, illy when we By this sin- nee I received Qote. I shall m it that one 3 of his hand. you are and ghland laird ind a humble write on it SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 337 the water to Charlie !' The worthy minister was so shocked at this on the Sabbath morning that on Monday he insisted the shoemaker would either wring the bird's neck or demit the office of elder. This was a cruel alter- native, but the decent shoemaker clung to his favourite bird, and prospered If he had murdered the innocent, would the Sabbath have been sanctified to himt " Yours faithfully, " Petee Mackenzie," From this brief narrative the tale of the " Starling " was written— - perhaps the ablest of his attempts in fiction. As a literary production, it is remarkable as being without any love-plot, and in making the interest of the story turn completely on another range of sympathies. From his Journal : — •' I am writing the ' Stai-ling ' for Good Words, to illustrate the one-sided- ness and consequent untruth of hard logical ' principle,' when in conflict with genuine moral feeling, true faith versus apparent ' truth ' of reasoning." 22 i .! t' l May, 1867. I was very They gave mi-applause ! lany mission- God for it ; id Leaminsr. 1 i 'gaged iech on the Gazette in 1 Perth up- had a very birds of all him in liia to whistle bath morn- oor, 'Ower i ' I !■ f^*-" i il CHAPTER XIX, SOME CHARACTERISTICS. IT is unfortunate that no record of his " Tphio + n » t. , served, for every one who knew l.-^ , ^S^^'^^^^ ^^ been pre. vemtion as the sphere i^ wMch hTaW^I ^^ T't ^ ^^ ^^ ^on- imagmation,wit, humour, and sympathy"' ^''^^^^^^ *^« ^^<^hes of his he has written is any measure of the do JI^^ he preached, with the langua^ warni Z^ V^'V'''" ^^ ^^- The sermon! oest he published. His addrfLrsT/S ' ^J^"^' ^''^ ^^ W^'^-^ the sermons, for they allowed him to flalnV "'''*"'^" ^^^« better than X flowmg humour Wh wouW have been^uroTT *^^^^^^^^ *^-*o^ei- tunes when he met a congenial party at T,nlfT "" *^^ P^^^P^*- S^^e- impressed them more than his L^ JL i ' °^ ""^ *^ evening, his talk versatile. Eut the time to get h^ Tht h '? '^'? 7^« ''' «« ^^^ied and «at up w^th him till midnight all Ine thl\ 7^ ^- ^^'* ^^ ^^^^ 7°" one familiar friend in whose sympatrhTcoSd & "^'^ ^"°^ **^ ^'^' ^ut lus whole soul came out in all its breadth «nSM"^^^^^^-'<=^a« ^^^n that chord of human feeling, and ran^rfrom ™^ ^^""*^' *0"«J^i°g every The anecdote, reflection ZgZeT%riZTT'' T^ *" ^^«^^«* ^eaveZ humour, most thrilling oathoV n^^ T ^^^^^ ""^ imagination, (h-oUeat eternity, ai. blendeu i!fo^one who w""" *^'"^^*' ™dering thiwh never before listened to. In a mlentTeT' '7' '^l^""' of ^hioh ;ou Illustration of human character tTthe It T"'*^ Pass from some comical and you would feel no discord. In anvotlL?°"? 'f"*^ ^^«*«^^d truth, a JP-r, but not in his. Tho«e who knew £ n"^' *^f' " ^*^^^^ ^^^^ been mean to other, it cannot be de^riS If . ^ • ^^^^^erstand what I ^^ a 1 the pleasante«t, ablest conve sations T 1 f *™\' ^ "^^ ^ ^^^^^ t^at one's best friends had beer, rolfed Sto o ' i 'Tf ^T^ ** ^^^^d from m^K^T ^ ^"^ ^ ^'^^^^ from No mrihl M ^°' ^r °^^^« "P ^"'^l^ might otherwise know him. could e^^^ „! ?• ^u T' ^^^^^^^ well he nature, unless they had spent ^thhSitmei sd^^^^^^^^ ^«P*^ <>^ ^^ther Who W hi. wen wrote ^::^^::'^^ been^^Jhare^'^wLTag:^^^ S f ^^^^''PP^-* fortune it ha. aU of the bright and beautiful Vm aH If '?;^^^^"^'^ Btudy-that See (?(?a^ ^y^j-ds for is 'ii, p. 61C. II. SOME ohahacteribtics. Ik ' has been pre- Qce fix on his con- the liches of hia y things that come Jartedness, nothmg him. The sermons ere far beyond the 're better than J^is its with that over- be pulpit. Some- evening, his talk 3 it, so varied and 3st was when you none to hear but -H was then that \ touching every J highest heaven, agination, cL-oUest -ndering through ike of which you )m some comical of sacred truth, "vould have been derstand what I 3ed to think that at Oxford from ^e made up such lowever well he h and depth of 'Dings as these." t fortune it haa ck study— that i the spirit and 339 Fi?w ^L&te:^^^^^^^^^ T ^^ ^ "^^* -«-*«^ from a each good gift becare muoTrn^ more real: that Great^Giver^ aU Td Ter^ trS v tlt"^ ^'T. '^' ^^.o^iior, of the prove himself a minister of tleSef ^"^ ^^^^^ to -o, did he especially to me at first-nothing came to ?1 i^..^; i I Nothing was more strange wards-than the co2ntTv1den.« wM f ;, ''^ """ ^' "^^''^ ^^^^^^l ^ftel course with this ^l^^ZtZ^l^^tC^ opportunity of private inter- deep undercurrent in h s%houXts iS S ? '^ "^^f "^"'^^^ ^^ of the meetings with him for^a refp^.prf.A • • ^ f^"^^'" ^^^^ ^^"^ '^ a" my was wSx him for a nuite^ofT^^^^^ I ^«ver conversational, howeveTwrou?«v^ri^ ? ^? confidential talk, however of necessity, diWsed&rornT^S^J^ whl^ rfvS '' ' "^ almost to despair, worried T3ast S/rL^n ,? if ^^^^^sed by work men and women then as Lf^wf \f^- '?''*' '^"^ conditions of ous grimacrs and apoShes^^ 'f "'f ^" ^°"^^ ^^"°^«- rhym^ordrawaserrof^unnt'ffces Odl nnnW '' ' '^^^^"^^"^ times, dropped into letters even the ^^^J^^'^^^^^es were, at such heading, more usually by way of s^naturf* '^"°^^7«^?^etimes as a were to InmrefreslJg I w^fl Z SlT ^''''' '"^'^ °^ ^^«^-- cha^aXl'and'SJ^^^^^^^^^ ^^ l^^ -s Highland boyish awe with wl^kh he re .mled ^t W ''• "^^ ^.' recollected the the great ^^ Trysts " of /aLS^lf iLtrn^\^: atr bS^ inte^^t ^^Ii»llS^ =-^- tlSS^^S -- ^0 the 1. .. ^:^^^SB^^B^V^S^^ re. I ^mte my life or mother.lfifin^SVZ "^"'*"'' "''\v"/ "^r^^Pon "eul. ^ wC IS so — , singularly clear and beaI,Vffir""Tl ' ^T^''" \ ^!;'*« ^^ children, it " Yours, Ac, "To the Pope it is — " Yours, old cock, •' Your faithful serv. '''''Tn'r.^?;,'*M'"*^^''«°°^''^«althy signature. respecta7e,tt:K.":SrSl ' "" "«'"' ^"'^^ ^ ^^^'^"-^-J. --ne. -. m.uisitive. wh.n^ra'S Sf lt?f rC,l*i ?'" ? '"-'"^^ ^'^^ "'^'' ''^'^ -'^»-l-> other letter. ^3^. men yo^ ^^^^^^S^^^l^^^^^l^^ ^ 1 5;" i' j. i ,, i ) ! 1 1 U ! i ill j ji i ■ 1:' - J; ( \L HgJ 340 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. S'f.I?^»*^' people m their accounts of the markets, and prices of stoth queys, and all varieties of sheep ; their utter indifference to every human concern except cattle and collies ; then the absurdity of the contrast between these old memories and his immediate cares and troubles would fairly overpower him, and result most likely in a dramatic representation of a debate about the quality of « stock " He had formed for himself an ideal drover, whom he named Peter Mnc- layish, round whose figure a world of ridiculous fancies was grouped. Only a person well acquainted with Higliland character coSld have appreciated the wit and dramatic truthfulness of this conception Utten when his father was oppressed with the weakness of extreme age, Norman would go down of an evening to cheer him, and before approaching those more solemn subjects with which their intercourse always closed, he would stir his old Highland associations and tickle his genial fancy by a personification of this "Peter," min^lincr in broken Gaelic, reflections on men and manners with disoourseJ'on beasts till from very pain of laughter his father would beseech him to desist. Peter was more than once introduced by him into strange scenes. When in Italy, he concocted a long narrative, show- «"lf »T'!f''i^^ i^\7-^?' ^^' ^•'P^'^ ^^^11« ^n^ the other species Peter had sold at Falkirk, and in not a few hotel books the sonorous rendering Pte^ro Tavisino was entered. At Moscow, the temptation of bringing the drover under the shadow of the Kremlin was so great that I believe he gave himself no other designation than " Peter Mac-' tavish, from Mull." This sense of the ludicrous was a passion which seized him at the most unlikely moments. The following verses, for example, were mostly written when he was enduring such violent pain that the nic^ht was spent m his study, and he had occasionally to bend over the back of a cnair tor relief : — CAPTAIN FRAZER'S NOSE. Air.—" The Lass o' Oowrie." 0, if ye'r at Dumbarton Fair, Gang to the Castle when ye'r there, And see a sight baith rich and rare— The nose o' Captain Frazer ! Unless ye'r blin' or unco glee'd, A mile awa' ye'r sure to see't, And neerer han' a man gauns wi't That owns the nose o' Frazer. It's great in length, it's great in girth, It's great in grief, it's great in mirth, Tho' grown wi' years, 'twas great at birth- It's greater far than Frazer ! I've heard volcanoes loudly roaring, And Niagara's waters pouring ; But oil, giu ye had heard the snorin* Frae the nose o' Captain Frazer ! kets, and prices of tter indifference to 3n the absurdity of imediate cares and most likely in a y of « stock." He named Peter Mac- icies was grouped, racter could have f this conception tkness of extreme ir him, and before 1 their intercourse ;iations and tickle ter," mingling, in ith discourses on '^ould beseech him sed by him into narrative, show- the other species ooks the sonorous the temptation of ilin was so great, lau " Peter Mac- eized him at the r example, were in that the night nd over the back SOME CHABACTERISTIGS. 341 Tae waukin' sleepin' congregations. Or rouse to battle sleepin^ nations, tiae wa wi' preachings and orations, And try the nose o' Frazer ! Gif French invaders try to Ian' Upon our glorious British stran', Fear nooht if ships are no' at han*, But trust tlie nose o' Frazer. Just crak' that cannon ower the shore. Weel rammed wi' snuff, then let it roar Ae Hielan sneeze ! then never more , They'll daur the nose o' Frazer ! If that great Nose is ever deid, To bury it ye dinna need, Nae coffin made 0' wood or lead Could haud the nose o' Frazer. But let it Stan' itsel' alane Erect, like some big Druid stane, Ihat a the warl' may see its bane, " In memory 0' Frazer !"* Dumbarton, September 1, 1771. .e;e?Lt7uaSrat^dr^^ - -t completed, and has tion abo:^it!'Tnlt'^;o^vf vT^tl 'v^"t^ ^f" '""/ ^^"^''^ ^''"^ ^he tone of exaggera- wrote to Mr. utS^^viyTS^J"^^^^^^ ^'' «\PossibIe into this matter, we sympathising with us obliSlv sen[ 1 ? 1 '1"^"''" ^^"^''"'" ^' Dumbarton, ko, with his permission. He sufs- lam rontiT ^"•"'"^^"^c^^""' ^om which we quot^ account Jiven in the pS '^CaptaTnXaz JS^iT^b^^ regarding the exaggeW subject, as a scientific Question witl.fw^r.^ ■ i' ^^ * '°"S corretipondence on the think that a humrnose by tC con Zf !. ''?^'"k^''^ '^'''t ^^^^ both decidedly Athole brose, which they prLrlv aS^ /^^ " °^ '^'^"^.^ '^ °°«t"l«' ^°d of Ingredients, might, actwSn ffrom witl^r''' t T'''^'™^^" ^™°'^°* °f ^^l^^^oli^ for a vast and inca culablf s?r°es of aS;s t Ivl" . *b,S°«r-°1' 'y'^'"^' '^ continued as ultimately wholly to absorb the nS Jf .?'^'^°P^^ ^^ ^f * ^^^ » proboscis so large also believe that, by a recur.ent law of N«f Vvt' T'"''-'''- 1"^'^""^^ ^''"^ ^his fact, thfy man might return to the fSJm of .hnL / '7*^' ""^'^f organization attached to a like the dragonof romn Hrove a tefroTTfl'' "' l^T^^V frthworm, which might, new age ofTomantic poetry, or Iven a relUon • Rrf?^%'°^^^ '"'S^* *^"^ ^"gi"'^^^ * existence of any nose in this aL ISch I /f n ?! l^'^ ^^f* ^^^ P^^'^ly mythical the or to any other of our racf i fhe JrlnV^fn] ^f '^•.^° ^^^' ^'^'"\^"^ *» Captain Frazer demand the bone of Frazer? nose^fov «p.-&- ""^ '*' P^^-'''''" ^^ ^^'' ^ ^^^^^ed, they plete information on EgreatTbie^tS^^^ -^^ T'' ^^^ ^"^'com- refer them to the learned I^oHrH-f^ ^IT "l^^e scientific readers, we must Organ in Man, withTts natSal selec^/on I?''' ff^" *''" Development of the Nasal befnrp fh. loo* ^„„..A "^^'l* iselection of snuff among some savage nations," read -., •"' ■^v.cuvr, air. iYiacvjuvrav goes on gentlVman,"a;urie7v7*t1i;Xhrc;uesS1^ ZTV" ^^''' T'=i"''*°"« "^ '^'' I««™-1 races which shall appelr as oi^der^nZ ^ ff P'*'=*' ^"J^*^ finally decided by the the great Goethe onTremark" d So at 1 attV ^T '^''- ^"* ""' ^" *^"^ ''''''''' ^ of sight like an eagle th^ rPhrrn« '.f ' {\^^^ ''^,* newspaper), first departs out the t?ue thus endiSw^Ts inJienr^PtJar''* ° T ^'^'^'''' '° "^^^^ itselfVseful- agreeable conclusion that )•«, /L^?^ ~^'' ^° ^^''^ ^rand speculations lead to this clergy and laifyrmy s„uff\^S pStre^'evln^?/'^^^^^^^^^^^ ^* least, savages and civilised! noses hpr.np,ir./'» v,.L " " T^ partake even of Athole brose without any f«ar nf +><»ii " Wfi"a"rP ;,lfAX l^ iliemseive.s or a terror to the country.' ^ its prTfXdS^^hTtVtt r l7r'""" '' communicatinfthis splendid result of .^li f ii ill •1^- 342 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. No one who recollecte the importance he attached to district visit- mg wiU misunderstand the verses which foUow, as if they were meant seriously to discourage such efforts :— ^ e iuedus PATRICK MACPHUDD. HINTS ON DISTRICT VISITING BY GOOD IjlDIKa. Miss Jemima MacDowal, the parson's sweet jewel, Is fair and red as a rose coming out of its bud, But och, "by the powers," what attentioH she showers, Un that thundering blackguard, big Patrick MacPhudd. She says she is sartain and shure to convart him, And to lift the ould Catholic out of the mud, And so she is walking, and every day talking, To Mistress, or Misses, or Mister MacPhud'd. She's so sweet a bit cratur, and humble by natur As to carry down soup, or a cast away Dud ; A cap for the laay, a frock f«r tlie baby, Or a top-coat for ragged ould Patrick MacPhudd. «'May the saint blessings send you, and always defend you a rom pestilence, famine, from thunder and flood • May archangels guard you, and Mary reward you," bays the oily ould father, Patrick MacPhudd. Ould Patrick so grateful, seuds out for the nadeful. And drinks till he lies like a pig in the mud • There his wife too is lying, while the children are crying And both are well thrashed by sweet Patrick MacPhudd. "Och, I'll not tell u lie," says honest M,.ciliudd. You thunc'enng old blackguard," says Father MacTaggert i Ihe Priest trembled over witii rage wh.!ie he stood ; Is It true ye're convarted, and by swaddlcrs pervarted » Look me straight in the face, and deny it, MacPiiudd." "Convarted ! Parvarted I" howh^d Pat broken-hearted, "I wish I «ould drink up her Protestant blood ; I vow by Saint Peter, I'd roast her and eat her, And crunch all her bones," says sweet darling MacPhudd. And now all good ladies, who visit bad Paddies, Be advised just to let them keep quiet in the mud, And sncnd all your labours on dacent Scotch neighbours. And not ou ould blackguards like Patrick MacPliudd. December, 1866. "The Waggin' o' our Dog's Tail," in which were embodied the sup- posed reflections of his dog Skye upon men and manners, was fre- QUentlv SUnp hv liim in liif^r Troofu TU^ ..o«« — 4. «,_j:i-t.'__- ' -• =^ •• "■• J ■ ^"■^ t;aincoi, mcUlUltlVO COUH- tenauce, and the quamt accentuation with which he rendered it, SOME CHARAGTEEISTIC8. 34^ mg wag of the tail, lent indescribable droUery to the words. "THE WAGGIN' 0' OUR DOG'S TAIL." A.\x.—"The larrin' c' ths door." We hae a dog that wags his tail (He 8 a bit o* a wag himsel' !) JSvery day he gangs down the town. At mcht his news to tell ! The waggin' o' our dog's tail, bow-wow* The waggin' o' our dog's taU I He saw the Provost o' the town, Parading down the street 1 Q;io'he, " Ye're no like my lord, *or ye canna see your feet !" The waggin', &o. He saw a man grown unco' poor. And looking sad and siok ! yuo he, "Cheer up, for ilka doff Has aye a bane to pick 0!" The waggin', &c. ^Tifr^ a »»an wi' mony a smilo, VVi out a grain o' sowl Oi Q"°' l;e. . V I've noticed many a dr . Could bite and never growl 0!" The waggin', Ac. He saw a man look gruff and cross. Wi out a grain o' spite 0! Quo he. ''He's like a hantle* dogs Whose bark is waur than their bitf 01" The waggin', &c. He saw an M.P. unco' proud, Because o' power and pay 0! Quo he "Your tail is cockit heigh, iJut ilka dog has his day C!" The waggin', &«, He saw some ministers fighting hard. Its a pity" ,^uo' he, •< when «g8 fa' out Aboot their aia fireside 0!" The waggin', &o. He saw a man gaun stnggerin' hamo. His face baith liju.k and l,lue O! Quo he, "I'm ashamed o' the stupid bru'< l*or never a dog gets fou'O!' ^ ^ Tlie waggin', &o. He saw a man wi' a liairy f„ro, VVi board and big moiistnche I ~'"ti i'^' ' "■'"''-fi "•"« towNv doin, iiul yo hae claes and r.mh 01" 'Many, The waggin', &a ,! Miii ! i 1 I i^ 344 LIFE OF NOEMAN MACLEOD. He saw a crowd in a bonny park, Where dogs were not allowed 0» Quo' he, "The rats in Kirk and State, If we were there might rue't 0!" The waggin', &c. He saw a man that fleeched* a lord. And flatterin' lees did tell I Quo'lie. " A dog's owre proud for that. Hell only claw himser 0!" The waggin', &c. He saw a doctor drivin' about, An' ringing everj bell 01 Quo' he, " Ive been as sick's a dog, But I aye could cure mysel' 0!" ' The waggin', && He heard a lad and laddie braw Singin' a grand duet O! Quo' he, " I've heard a cat and dog Could yowl as weel as that 1 " The waggin', Ac, He saw a laddie swaggerin' big Frae tap to tae sue trim 0! Quo' he, "It's no' for a dog to laugh That ance was a pup like him 0!" The waggin', &o. Our doggie he cam' hame at e'en, And scarted baith his lugs Oi Quo' he, " If folks had only tiiils. They'd be maist as gude na dogs 0!" The waggm', &c. nZL l^ n '" '^^'''''"''' ''^''' '''^' ^'' enthusiastic curler. Norman, who never even attempted to curl, heartily enjoyed the exciting scene on he ice, and tlie keenness displayed by "tenant and laird ^^ a3 they strove together for the honours of the " roaring game :— " CURLING SONG, f Air.— "Come under my plauiie." ^'. "4f^* ** ^"^ frec7.w', a' nicht I was sne.zin", A fiJf fr*"' ' '^''■' ^h*" '^'^•'' "<'»'l^'"'n'i. o' yer cough." A fig for the snczir; . hurrah for the ftvczin'. Hot the day we're to piny the Boiispid on the loch! Then get up. my braw Iwhly, the bnaklast mak' ready. toT the sun on the snaw drift's b(i,'iniiin' to Mink Gio me bannock,^ or broohan, I'm all to th.. lochan. ' 10 mak the stanes flee to the 'T' o' tlie rink. Then hurrah for the cuiling frao Girvan to Stirlinirl Hurrah for the lads o' the besom and stane! Keadynool Soop it up! Clap a guard! Steady nool UU curling abuiie a' the games, stands alauo. *Flatt«r«.d. tThu 8on« was afterwards pul.lisli..d in DlachoooiVt Magazine. SOME CHARACTERISTICS, 34^ The ice it is splendid, it canna be mended. Like a glass ye can glowr in't an' shave aff yer beard • Thf ™?7 'H «"*^^''' '='*™''^' °^« the brown hSher The niaster and servaBts, the tenant and laird ' There 8 braw J. Fairlie, he's there late and early Wi the lads frae Kilwinnin', they'll send the stanes sninnin' Wi' a whnrr and a mrr, tiU they sit rouu' t^ie "? '^ ' Then hurrah for the curlin', &(j. If s an unco' like story, that baith Whig and Tory An that a denominations are wantin' in i)atience But in fine frosty weather, let a' meet thedther. Then' HrS'."l*^"' ^*"'^'' ^'^' * ^t^'^^ ne-'^r the 'T'; T ,vS •.?^' ^^n"?y ''^*^''' y«''l ««« hoo a' parties Like brithers will love, and like brithers agree! Then hurrah for the curlin', &c. £v«;?;Z''s''' '■'''•"'''" '■""■■- >— f '^hi au ; ih ;N !i^3^ h d' ^dt Th: T^^^^. over the grass and througllX tl^s'm ^II.!::. were- o^ c.uaust.ci, his wiio in vain entreating hini to take care. itii :ii ' Quarrel. + Endure. M6 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. i I his efforts were Carders^ «^^^^^^^ characteristic of him that he mad^t? ^^* -T^f' ^* ^^« ^^^i^ word with his children even i^trfflp, «L'TP^' "i^^^^^ *° ^««P ^is fault-finding in little tUng^ ^nTf on two .oinr^ '\ '''^■''^''' «^ mising even to sternness Thp « L? . ^^^^^ ^^^ ^® uncompro- of want of truth Cat once seveS'' '^f^^^^^^ ^^ selfishness or was given, there was an en^oft^^^^^^^^^^ culprit feel that confidence wa. . 1 i . ^ ^°'*^ P^'°' *<^ ^^^^e the that the preservation of self-resneTl^^^^^^^^ ^« ^^^^^^^d m the education of a child ^ ' important a point as any <>^''^SoryZ^^^ Highlands, were full favourite Cuilchenna'^orrheSt^^^^^ .T^'"' ^^'^^^^ ^<^ ^"« Glencoe or Glengoar, or at Java t ll '^ J^ ^^' ^^J^^^^^ ^^^ws of the finest panorLa^ in Europ^-^' Tt^A^^^^'^^^ "«^«°f BuachaiU Etive and Ben Cruach^n or l\ p't' ^^\ ^"^^'"^ ^^^ associations, he entered into the ioVnfn.?'^'''.?''^^ ^^' ^^^^^^^^ greater than in youth ''^^ ''^ '''^^"^^ ^^''^ a rapturo even He thus describes the scenery round Cuilchenna :- than the greenest of gi^ssT 2« -^'"ng more It IS one of the ' best places fovS •^' ? the estimation of the shophorJ for such a purpose owiilgTitrCXln" '"' '' "" *^^ ^'^'^^^^ dykes of trap, which afford sheSto t^Tl/ ^ / '''""'''''"^^" ^'^"°^^ «^^ over the snow seldom lies here 1 it 11 '^^f P ^^^ f ^«ry wind. More- temperate sea. It has its ow^L Pf^'^^ ^^^^''^ ^^ *^" breath of the tliough these are seldom, tf eve? 4s "dhv'^''' °^ ^^^^^^^""'^ ^'^^"ty' too! boy. In these nooks, nkture as^ 'L ^ ^""^ T ^^^^ *"« solitary^ herd! plationofherowugr^ceandlovelil.?? !,"" *^' "ndisturbed contem- spreade out her droning "4^7 1?; T^^ ^'""^ ^'''^'^^ «°^«rs and herself with tufts of primuses WueSn,/''"^' unconsciously to ador. tnes into little recesses, to ei "htf ' . "'f ''^" ^'''^*^^«''' ^""^ ^^Y^y re- monntain ash clothed ^it^buncire tf cor^rr'.^"' '^^^^'^ *^« ^^^"«^'«« of bu-ch and hazel, in order to gefa diirnr nf f^*''- "", """^ ^ *'»« ^««Ping t^v«en banks glorious with g^^tn CS lich If.T'^'' f ''^^^ '^'""^^'^^ ^« wild roses. In the spring such re" sill '' ^,'™' honeysuckle, and bm.s. At the base of o,,f unknown untroJ ^"""^ ^^^'"" "^ ^«^« ^"'^ P^Phig caves, worn and cut into th^sta'St si ani^i"' ir^^^^f''^ ^^e clefts and ocean tides. In each round St ttrfi . f *''.« «^«' ^'^ti^g beat of the forest offairy-liko trees of nlnnl!r^ T' ^' '''' '"^'^'^ P"''® soa-wator. is a white. Molluscs, and fiS^^ .ht^'^ ''"^'"'^ '""'^'^"'-^•■^-". «reen, and crabhereanclthere,niotaL rL''f''"''r^^^^^^^ *"^T*^'«'' ^^^^^ « ^ohtary to the observer, tlu^e seomstd "d t j ' noth^n ^ ^^ ^^^^ " J3ut the grand and cm,,,, oni! . • "^thmg but purity and joy. .Gkno..e Seen fW ''""""'^'^'hng object at the liemJ J Lc-cJi £v«n i« e. oca xrom our promontory, its precipices rise likra hi!^ wai" f1 !e, and to make ^ th!33e respects It was quite ^ays to keep his ihe irrigation of s he nncompro- )f selfishness or ^hen the rebuke IS to make the for he believed a point as any lands, were full Whether at his jestic views of mding ** one of , fronting the h its hallowed I rapture even )w hundred feet r nothing more f the shepherd, he more fitted ile hollows and ivind. More- ls breath of the d beauty, too, > solitary herd- iirbed contem- Id flowers and Jsly to adora ', and slyly re- le branches of 3 the weeping ch whishes be- eysiickle, and JVC for piping are clefts and ig beat of the 'a-wator, is a ^n, green, and th a solitary ity, in which, nd joy. i^-v-n ijoven 18 a huge waJl, SOME CEAEACTERISTICS. 347 a^tgtg^^tltSlt^^^^^^ base to summit, depths such as might ha^Sn "^Trirf ««P*f tl^om each other b^ wielded in stormy^p^siol The mLntl-n"" \^^'''^' ^reat hammer, lines and platforms ?ftran «« fLf^ w?^ '' T""^^ *'^^«' *oo. by deep molten rock pour'd out b^delnic teof "^ttt *^^ '"^^^^^^^^ ^^^^s of sombre, sad U desolate ^ifth^s gL 'e WellT \'^T- ""'''^'y every mood; sometimes when it seemed 1 «l. iT ^^^^^^ ^^ ^^ ^^^ wrapped in the sun-mist -TmetLptw^ \f^^ ^'^^ * ^«*™d giant, cloud^, until, as if overcome TvZ y^- '* ^^'^^^ *° *^^'^«* ^^^ ^^tern impenetrable m^s^S^rJli^ht!^^^- ^T' '^^ ^^^^^^^ ^' ^^^ it unveiled itself after the storm and L^ ' ^^f"" '^"^^^ ^^^ '^^^^^^Y the green fields and t'4s below ' Th •"'' '''?i "P ^ '^' ^^^^ visiting the sails of fishing boats until ^' l^t &? 'TH °^/^^*^ «°*t^ge« *nd precipices and sent the S flvZ^ .nffi"^ *?' '^?'^^' ^^^"^ *^« ^ark but slowly-in white smT^nn ^^^"^ * ^^'^^^^ ^^^ ^^"^^^y^ not hastily dark ndgJas LT'strdU'r t';&SLt' ^"^^^^^^^^^ *^' a cloud over all, and as if sunnorted h^ill 'l.-.f^^ appeared without " Turning to the east the ^Pnl- Vu^ T^^^^ P'"*^'« ^^ *be glen. To right afd leftto no h and .nnfh " '^^'^''''^''^<^ of our Highlands, spokel Southward irflows ptt tl V^^^ "^ ^^ich L have until it is lost betwe;n m'sTy Cd and?7n tt' '?'''k ?,^ P"'' ^b^"' M"»' boom on the western steeps of Jura ' '^*^''''*''' ^^°^« ^*^e« utterly'de^^^ *° ''^ "^^*' ^^^^^ ^-^ - this stretch of inland sea, is s«ler;and^t^un1:;;orSyTocrLr;""^^^^^^^ p^^^^- °^^-t light and reverence. We W Sied Z'^f ^'"""^ "^r,*" "^«"' ^^^^ ^e- ing. ^ '^^'^'^^ ^'^'ig 1*8 sea-coast almost every even- to ;;s1h:n ':X^^Sr!Zr:7 thus witnessed ! It verily seemed trate all his poweis on thff ?f T f ''PP'^ ^°^" "^''^^•«'- ^arth to concen- adorn it with^gr^W fereadnf^^^^^^^^ ^T'**^ ""^'^^^ ^^^'ty Td to the sea; an§ co^Lg evef da^^k GW ^ ^ "n ^°' i '^'' '^^^'^^"^ hills, to do it honour and b"ow before it ^rf?' "^ n " ^ *''^ surrounding robes. First of all, the sunTeZ S .niT *^""\f .^ J«" «rowns and purple into seas, grouped i i o isSs wfth t^ ro»nd himself clouds spread out conveyed' the fiiut t inj-^^^^^^^^^ as no pen or penci/ has ever through every crossing vdey and down fh T ""^ '^^f '"^«^ «^^««" «''«* the serrated Hdges, peneS'L the tZl 5 ^^^ '^n''^ '^'^'^ ''''^ ^"7 « smoka of the vnlleys an^-ani- ''.''^^''l^'T?'' ^"""""^ting the curling lighting up hidd n'^^^rnl luo luS "e ^"'^ ^""' "^^* P'^^^P^^' -' Loch Levin as with a m ^ic Ld tkin it^I^'^r P'^^^''''^^ "^ the shores of east, so that these, after alf the b;oi val W. "'"\"'''"" "''^^^« *« the of day Having ilorified Glc nrn«^^ valleys were uark, retained the light beams, ere parting on the loftlTf n L" ^'^Zl^'"''''''^' '^ concentrated Us b-ght, ;nd tLn Swore tinnerwirS"^ tboy shone in a subdued ruby ^een anywhere exi:;n:tet:^Lroa^^^^^^^^ ^e^mcu IV pass irom earth tn }iootr«« i v ^'^' -*'"'^'a"y tho haio Ji . [1 ' '■' -, i J- ■ \ I lis I i IS i r ■jif" 348 LIFE OF NOBMAN MACLEOD. I- variable — a revelation of the Almighty Artist, which, once seen, remains a precious gift stored in the memory, never to fade away. " On these evenings the marvel nearest to the eye was the appearance ot the sea! It was wholly indescribable. But merely to mention it will re- call similar spectacles to others. The waves undulated in gentle swell with a heavy, dull, molten, hue. Save for the movements of flocks of birds, which swam and dived wherever the shoals of fish disturbed its glassy sur- face, it seemed cold and dead. But as the setting sun began to kindle its waves with subdued lights, aided by glowing cloud and mountain of every imaginable hue, there spread over the wide expanse of still water such a combination of colours — ruby, amethyst, purple, blue, green, and grey- gleaming, sparkling, and interchanging like the Aurora, until every gentle undulation was more gorgeous than the robes of Eastern kings, when un- rolled fi-om the looms of Benares ! "* These scenes afforded him more than " tranquil restoration ;" they were a continual " passion and delight." And the joy they conveyed to him he tried to sliare with his children, in this, as in so many other things, evincing his eagerness to recreate for them the same Highland associations as had made his own early days so happy. None of his boys showed more excitement than he when they were out fishing on the loch, and when there happened to be a good ' take.' On the cro- quet green, competing with 'his children, he was the keenest of the party. When a chance piper arrived, and the floor was cleared for a reel, he heartily enjoyed and cheerily applauded the merriment of the dancers. What he felt at such times he has thus expressed : — *• 'Dance, my children ! lads and lasaes ! Cut and shuffle, toes and heels I Piper, roar from every chanter Hurricane 1 of Higlilaud reels I " 'Make th< old barn shake with laughter, Beat its flooring like a drum ; Butler it with Tuilocligoruni, Till the storm without is dumb I " 'Sweep in circles like a whirlwind, Flit across like meteors glancing ; Crack your fingers, shout in gladness, Think of nothing but of daiieing I' " Thus a grey-haired father speakcth, As he chips his hands and cheers ; Yet his heart is (juietly dreaming, And his eyes are dimmed witli tears. " Well he knows this world of sorrow, Well he knows this world of sin, Well he knows the race before tliom, What's to lose, and what's to win I " Rut he hears a far oil tnusie, (juiding all the stately spiiores, In his fatiier-heart it eclioos, So he claps liis hands and cheers." . ^rom an Essay on Higliland Scenery which he wrob for a volume, published at hw Majesty s desire, illustrative of " Mountain, Locli, uud Glen." % > :e se«n, remains ings, when un- SOME GHARACTEIilSTICS. published at h«i 349 straction was as effective as it was simp" He'trainedThrm fl '1" argir^rrtSskif^SHS had to say while some part of Scripture was read in co2on Hnw^ ever trivial the idea or the difficulty of the child m^^hTSem to oSj." he always dealt carefully with it, and tried bv means of ^fni^' some principle which wis worth'rememSnJ ' wLn l^sWE about anything I did not understand," writes one of l^LVters " mv dear father would say, ' That's right. On your way through hfevoS come across many a stumbling-block that^you 111 thirk quite^^m can .how you a path through many a difficulty.' I treasure whnt bp Thp Pnr«^f .1 '^^o^^aged. It involves in many ways a benefit sit on. By so doing you blame God 'who gave it to you. S^o quahtv IS bad unless perverted. " ^ quality There was a characteristic of his later life which was the more re impatient of details, careless about hours and arrangements hurried and impulsive but experience taught him the importance of ^111, ahty and orethought, and in later years his attentLn to minute and tl.e careful and busmesslike manner in which he fulfilleTCpubHc cigagements, surprised those who had known him with other haWs His later manner of preaching differed from Ins earlier, and as a rule admi ting many exceptions, partook more of the i.ature of tlaclfinZ! sometimes of homely i:«/A:~than of set discourse. Simplicity wah> constant characteristic, but there was more; for ever aid anon cL; S? 'f ;f^-,f"'".^ denunciation against what was mean or selfish or brief but thrilling touches of imagination or pathos that broke the e;t^n flow of instruction. " His style reminds me,'' said an auditor! who was hmiself a celebrated preacher, " of the smooth action r.f a lar: ^g ne moving with he ease of great power held in restraint." " It was S '' says another hearer, "so much what is called earnest preachin- as Se jji« wirew cVcx^-tiiiiig ulsu usiae ior thai end." I ' 'I, "I El ! ! ( I -. j I ! 350 LIFE OF NOBMAN MACLEOD. I am persuaded we will aU acknowledge that we never listened to auv man wiose word came so home to the heart. For myself, at least, I can say that no preacher ever had such power over me ; nor was the secret of ^^rf.i, ^^"i^T'^''- ; • • Th^t ^hich told more than all upon me was the total absence of all thought of self which characterised his preaching While listening to him, the thought never crossed my mind that he had been making a sermon. Whether composed in his study or left as was so often the case, to such language as the impulse of the moment mignt suggest, his sermons always appeared to me of a purely extempora- neous character ; because whether wholly or partially written, or not written at all, they were the spontaneous outflowing of his heart at the moment with no more art or effort than what is seen in the natural rush of one of his own loved Highland rivers ; clear, and deep, and strong as they, but with as ittle consciousness of any private aim, or any desire to gratify a selfish feeling or to wm human praise."* g j- c su ''Other preachers we have heard," wrote Dean Stanley in the Times, " both m ±.ng and and France, more learned, more eloquent, more penetrating to particular audiences, but no preacher has arisen within our experience, with an equal power of riveting the general attention of the varied congregations ot modern times . . . none who so combined the self-control of the pre- pared discourse with the directness of extemporaneous effort; none with whom the sermon approached so nearly to its original and proper idea— of a conversation— a serious conversation, in which the fleeting thought the unconscious objection of the listener, seemed to be readily caught iip by a pass ig parenthesis-a qualifying word of the speaker; so that, in short, the speaker seemed to throw himself with the whole force of his soul on the doruence "^ '"'*' ''^^^'^^ ''^*''''* *^^''" "^'^^ ^^ something more than Although at one period he occasionally wrote his sermon seven times over before he preached it, there were years during which lie seldom wrote any discourse fuUy out.f but preached from notes in which the sequence of ideas was clearly marked. These notes, though often jotted on Saturday afternoon, were the result of constant cogitation aui'ing the week. _ As might have been expected from his temperament, he was deeply interested in the movements of modern thought. As he had long fore- cast the coming storm in the theological atmosphere, he was not taken aback by its approach, and, in order that his hearers should be prepared lor It, (le was in the habit of enforcing guiding principles, rather than rJn,f'i'"° ^sermon entitled "The Hearer's Responsibility," preached in the Baronv fnri.T V'' \-''^ •^"il"'^'^'' '^^"^' ^'y *''^" ^^^'^' William 1 Jlertson, D D. of New Gn /. Dr Madeod."""^ ' °° " "'""''"'' °'' ^"' ^"^^"^"^"'g ^he Rev. Dr. Lang is auccLor to t He was onre preaching in a district in Ayrshire, where the reading of u semion is regarded as the greatest fault of which a minister can bo guilty. WheS the ToZ 4 ton dispersed an old wonian overflowing with enthusiasm, mldress 7 he nek fbouJ «ij ^•'■^"'^"^^'^""STS""'^ Was na1 ^^ ^^^' T^'^'^"' ^°^'hts and diffi- perplexity were cryfngT li'ht Somfo? t7 T^' "^° ^^ ^^^ -^■ critics, some of the most nortPritonf nl ^ ^\'^ ^^^""^^ ^^ "^o^i^^rn sense of humour more tu^nl l a^^^^^^^^ ''f' P^^^^^^^d his he would say " not to bp infi P® ^^^'^ '^ ^^^ ^o clever," he fools those mWmusLeertoSrr'^''"^^ What frightful phisto, when he s alonp ml ^ ,^'''° ^"^V "^°^ ^"^^g^^e how Me- clevermencanbeguty''" '*^ '^"'^^' "*^ *^^ ^^^^^'^'^'ies of which AfJ^ronToTtll:^:?^^^^^^^^^ powerful and sympathetic, the meshes of sophistical ar.umPnH-n f ' '' ^T °^' ^^'^^ ^""^lered away from doubtM dStaSTfnf f^^^ he would carry his auditors convictions and ipiratfonf ZeaU^^ wf T^' P"^« heaven of his own enlist every better svmmtL on 1 , ^'^* 7f "^^'^ human in them, terious depths of SdeLV mI v '' ""^ ^f ^^ ^'^"^^^ ^"^^ the mys: '^luestions of the day" c'^^^^^^ 1 •'?'' ?''"^ ^^ difficulty on ing every doub remlVed bn?Ti7/ n ^"' *''''^""^' "«* P^^haps feel- sptken which ' oXptisl^e^^^^^^^^ ^'^ heen -^^^S:.aTi:^'^l^:J^ 'f^'^-^y -pastoral work, may convey a fals^ iiZos^inn n/n ' Y *''' P'"''"^'^ ^f public duty It wascertLly mpo sible for \?i '' ''vf • *" ^^^^^^' ^his held true did, but the sick rddiitrl.1. ' ^'''^ ^"' congregation as he once those who Lew anl^^^^^^ ^^^^^otten by him ; and to the wonderful 3 nlfnf''^'^,^^ '^^^^ *""«« hear witness hiseyewouTdtwil?:iitirtr/tV^^^^^^^^^^ *« ^^^^ ^^w eacn case was attentively considerld^i; ui;^''''^^:::^^^^ 1 1 IH ii if;? ill.: til, LIFE OF N0R:"AN MACLEOD. of the puljiit as well as in it, lay in that genuine bigheartedness which everywhere claimed and inspired confidence. "I write as one who knows, whose own burden has been made easier by him,^ as one around whom his arms have been, and on whose clieek the kiss of his deep sympathy has fallen. Few, indeed, who icnew him only as the genial companion, the ready i)liitform speaker, or the powerful preacher, can, even remotely, conceive of the way he had of talking to, and acting upon, human hearts, whan alone with them. It was then that the glory of the man came out ; then you knew with what a vision he &aw into you and comprehended you ; then he spoke words that went straight into your soul, and carried hciding with them, for he never kept you down to himself, but took you up with himself to the Fatlier. I cannot say what is in my heart to say, but this one thing I would like all who have never been alone with him when spiritual things were spoken about, to believe and know, that he was a grander, broader, deeper, diviner man than he could ever have appear- ed to you to be. Nearly thirteen years ago, as a young lad, a stranger to this country, I first met him, and from that liour his great heart, wliich always warmed to the stranger, was ever ready to open, and his kindly hand to help. When I went abroad to engage in the work which lay nearest to his own heart, it was with no formal prayer that we parted, but one ever to be remembered ; with no formal farewell of a formal divine, but with a loving embrace; and when I returned, most unwillingly, but through neces- sity, the same arms were ready to welcome me. This is not the way un- known men are wont to be dealt with by known men ; young men by old ; men feebly struggling, or IjaiHed and beaten, by those who are secure on the platform of life: but it is the way to win .souls, for all that, and it was the way in which he won many."* " His \Mj\ver of sym})athy," said Dr. Watson, in his bpautiful funeral ser- mon, " was the first and last thing in his character wliich imi)ressed you. .... I never knew a man bound to humanity at so many points ; I never knew a man who found in humanity so much to intei-est him. To him the most commoni)lace man or woman yielded up some contribution cf individu- ality, and you were tempted to wonder wliich of all the various moods through which he passed, was the one most congenial to him. "'When he came to see me,' said a blacksmith, 'he spoke as if he had been a smith himself, but he never went away without leaving Christ in mv heart!"' To his eldest Son wlien he was a very young boy on a visit to Fiunary. The original is carefully written in la:ge Roman lette.s : — "Glasgow, August 4, 1862. " I am so glad you are in Morven, and so happy there. I never Wiis so hapi)y in all my lif'3 as I used to be when I was a boy there. I think of you as if you were myself young again. For I fished witii Sandy and uncle John for cod among the rocks in the bay, and in the burn for trout, and went to the Byre for warm milk, just as you are doing. But then all the old terriers are dead. There were Cuilag and Gasgach — oh, such dogs ! If you saw them worry an otter or a wild cat ! They would never give in. Li6iit«r tiCn} etic ivcV. V. £&., vriiiit. ftedness which The original is i^OME CHARAGTERISTiaS. 'I wish you could remember, as I can «11 f) ? ''''?^"* *^^« ^^^-pent. once there, and who would have IovptI vn' !l^ '^""^'^ ^^^^ds who were papa, with his white hair ana bHnl "; es Cl mv ^'^ '7'"^ "^— ^ ?-"d- loving; and aunts Margaret, Mary See A^Ji ^'T'^'"^°'"^"' «° ^^^d ^^d foces now before me. They were aH so S f{' '^T^' ^ '^^ a" their Dockie dear ! thank God L g^od ftinr^^^^^ ^"^ everybody "Did they sliow you where^I liverl' T ^TJ^'V^^ '" °^""^ ^^ tJ^^-^- used to be ini" "^^'^ ^^'^^ 1 was a boy, and the school I To his eldest Da.ohtkk, when she went to school at Brighton :^ ^ " Do you remember your old father ? T'.. . " ''''^'T' ^''"'' ^'' ^'''• Feragus, the friend of Mr.. Brown I ""^^ '"'"' ^^ ^^^ ^o-old Abel ^^^^:^^ You have gtr:tXtVbTit£rath.^ tnT' ^^^^^^ f/l "^^"^^^' -^ -Id sorry to leave you. not he-cruel-Wted mt Tli^^-'Y ^''"^^ ^^^ a bit mother, wretched old woman that sS- IZ ^'* ^' '' ' ^""^ ^^« ^o"'" sorry we both were, and how often thpnl.! '^ • ^^J^ '^''"^^ wonder' how the old wife < Poor dear darL. ' B ^ no r^'fitrl '^'^'^' ^^^'' ^^^«-« '' ^nd ot that ? I'm not. And the\ d fat le's^tid S '"^ T" -/^"^ ^^" ^'^''^ I'm STire she will prove her^plf „L i i • i ' . ^ "^ not afraid of mv eirl be lazy, but do he^wk it ^ f:^^:"t ""^' T^ ^^•"^'^^*' ^^^ w?n't her ! and her mammy said tt LmT I^T ,0^^'" '" ''''' ''^ ^'^^ '^'^^ hot old dad would call her a fool (resnectfiilv f'^'^'^'^y ^'"^^ cry, and and then we got your letter, wh cT nde {L 'J^^ ^^ ^^'-^^'l^^ I^ondon, man said 'Never fear! she will 2, If .ii^/'^?/'^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ the old Mxss _ will like her, an^L'^i f^L ^ L"^ ^^ ^ V^ ^-PP7, and rL^si!:v:^hS= . "Will yov write a line to the oW ^n ' ^An/°^ ^'^ f^^^^ '^^^^t" cise It, but be glad to hear all your cha^S." '''''"'^^' he won't criti- To the Same :— and^"^;,^S ^::;;ifi:?'^ ^-- — ' ^t ^-^ «^^ ^^^ -eeived you, their first-born, as a^t^ft fiom God t?"' ^ '"1'^^/*^-- and .. y to your parents to have had an i nmZ«l h • ^^^ '"^'"^^ ^ ««^«'n" tliey could call their own child IT// ^'""^ ^'^^^ *» them, whom it "ot, for you. deareTt wht' l' ^4' ' f/^^day, though yo^ knew lou have been a source of great haiMnni to n«r ""''"•■'' "^"""^^^ "^^''^ ^nd. g iiappiness to us ever smco ; and you cannot t) if ! 1?^ .( : li 'HI 354 £IF£ OF NOMMAN MACLEOD. foir;:n:t^^^^^ Offered „p b, us bot. that to yourself, and be a joy to Je^us CW \'""''" °*" J"^ ^"^^ blessing redeemed you to God with His own bbod ' ^ ""ST ^"" ^^^°^g' ^^^ ^«« more than your own lovin^ei^s j^ t V "^^^ ^^'^^^ ^^^^ inconceivably for all His kindness to yoS-do * e^t Jn ^^? ^?'''*' ^^^ ^"^ ti^^^^k God you to do it, and I am su^re you do'S JraTefuffo '"* *° '''"• «« "^^- '' Oh, my own darling ! you little know t" ^''"'" "^^""^ "^^^^«s. and pray for this, as the one thinTfl f^- T- T'^'* "^^^^^^^^ and I desire that you may lo^e and obej Jesu! C^^^""t^t^''' "^ ^^^^^ ^ff- -^^ speak to Him, trust Him, oW ffim ^ t^ur F. ^^^^^^^ know Him and dearly loves you, and desires you dSX lolJj^ '■ ^'^*^''' ^^^°"r' ^^^^ blessing God could give me in this lolw. k "^ '"^ '■'*"™- ^here is no that of seeing n>y children, who aildearlr \l '"""^^^ f"^ ""« "^««^«^t to themselves to be children of StrLetTeW^^ life itself, proving first-born ! God will give the unsnetkabl U ^V"^ '^ ^^^ ^^t' «« "^7 speak to Him about it, simplT £klv 1 ""^ '^^r P^'^^ ^ even more confidingly than Zc^ul^^^^^^ «P^^k to me-but thank Him for all He has^done ?or vo^n. l ^ ^'' *^" meantime, dearie, thank Him for His gift of yourselfVus both '"'" "" ^°" ' ^"^ ^"^« ^ suffer .^^SsTouSretr^^^ EM Eut you cannot home. So you need net wonder-at l7«f T i y^^"" ^ "^^^^ ^^t from times think yourself on the other side of the .if h "V^3^°" ^^^^^^ some- weary longings, and think evervth na i I ^ ^' ^'"'^ ^^* ^«*o «ad fits, and just a part of our education a'f a f^^rf^^^^^ ^T'^"^ ' ^"^ this is most of. •* waining tor life, and must be made the ap-eed to this. All »„, orr4p„nde„^2^^,,T''' '^''^'J' *° »«• She kindly N.w my lassie, cheer up ! bTmU^ Tli\r^ ^^,^*" M« Macleod ! «.f hUe a linnet. I amU yo^ tl col:* '^Ital^^'^t^fe^; ^0 the Same :— oid'ii^^is - ^ ^-- -- -om this,::;:r: z iz^ th:^ur is^- ^»isfd,x\tctrja :"^ ^- ,?? ^^ -« he loves her very much, and is proud to serve her ^'"' '^^ ^'^' ^"^ and prayerfJlTly^t'd^ airi%Xrin mvf ' '^f ^ ^^^^ ^^ ---^^ see you sick and p'oor with the love of ChriBTthTn^ f '^'- ^ ™^^ ««°"«' world, for ever and ever, without it." ' ^^® *1"^®^ ^^ *^e whole " Your dad has come here for rest th.f i, . " ^^T'^' ^'"'' ''' ''''• among others, to yours of March 3 Hh f \ ''^^^^ *° ^ *°^ °^ ^^'ters; delicious air ! Ko ' for von hLt .'J x^''^ ^*''' ^«^« ^^re to enjoy the mammy? No ! for you pSr M^^^' ^^^^ ^^1^^^*^^^ To set ^ou yuu preier iVXis^. to all your family, To be damped 3 by us both that joy and blessing belong, who has '^ou inconceivably u will thank God Him. He likes any mercies, her and I desire d suffer and die, know Him and er, Saviour, who rn. There is no • one moment to 5 itself, proving you first, as my t-ay to Him, and ak to me — but 3antime, dearie, • I am sure I 'Ut you cannot svent first from I should some- ito sad fits, and I ! But this is 3t be made the se. Miss — _ ?• She kindly Vliss Macleod ! id enjoy your- 3versaydie!"' 'une 12, 1865. rou how your may be sure 3ld dad. But you seriously would sooner of the whole SOMH CHABACTEBISTICS. 356 to the buzzum of your old rlnrl? Tvr^ i get your dad his^xWs fol K^JZy"" */" ^"f^"^^ ^^^ *^^*- ^ut to Glasgow I ^^ ' ^"""^ ^''' "»^eehng family left them behind in -^^'^^.'Tlu^'Zi::^^^^ *'%f "^ ^- fl-*-«" about theirheads,trwarmsto;kingsonX f't No L^^^^^^ "° "^»^'^*^^1^« °^ fore going to bed. No 'Gre^orv' ir+L • ^mf^ °'' '''*^™^ bath be- most corr^ectly, and nev^er^'^e^eTn aYoa dTng3ol "^The'^'f t't. ^''^^' strong as ever, and if thev ar^ rinf mJ^i i.^ !i. ;, ^^^® ^^^ ^""^ are as day lots of rain fell ^ them and 2'°^^*^'^ ^^^" ^^^^^s. Yester- their noses ran with wa te for 'a whil hevte'rilT^""'" ^"* ^^^^^^ ing. The winds are kissing the Tea knfc ^T ''?'^ ^ ^ "« «^^«^- sea and winds ! No wonder thrJn^orld don't believe in butcher? nort *if '' ^°*^'^« ^^^ ^^g their tails. They for Willy. His so?;?; Ser^t^^^^^^^^ The quiet is great, but kisses his mother like the T^tl i , ^'''''- ^^ ^^^^ like the wind the cruel butcher." ^'' '' "' '^'"^^^ ^« *^« §»"«> ^^d patronises T'o the Same :— makes u, ™„ an^ i^^. ZnSL'^t ,' rd^^^BuT'T '"% ^'"■■™ you,— what? but I wiV^ savthat iS^ t ^77" ^ ^ ^ ^*^"t praise What ? Guess ! Well thTn of ^L 3{ t™ * ^^" *^^"& ^« ^^^t^i"- -what? It is for you to si; Thl nnl? r 7'' ^^l'^' ^^^^ ^^^ <^^« t^at no use! You knoHhat ^V dltw t ^ LT" ''^^ But there's poor body, the less said abZtt^'l bett? C tMs'f J^f'^^-T' never snores— never ' anrl qVi.. oio^ "cowji . jjut this I will say, she not- who r ' ' ^^'°~-^'' °^ course-loves the children, but \ \ !l i ! ifii nl 18, 1866. n of letters ; to enjoy the Fo see your !f I I i> ;! < I hrST' ivW"'^" CHAPTER XX. I INDIA. DR MACLEOD had for several years been convinced that the Church ought to send a deputation to India. There were many important questions connected with missions in that country, wliich, he relieved, couhl be decided only by Commissioners, who, besides considering matters affecting particular localities, might take a wide survey of the condition of India in reference to Christianity. He liad long anticipated, too, the possibility of being himself appointed to such a duty, and was prepared, at almost any personal risk, to undertake it. " I have the -uost distinct recollection," writes Dr. Clerk, " that in the summer of 18G5, speaking to me, as he often did, of the possibility of his being asked to go to India, he told me that medical friends, to whom he liad casually mentioned the matter, had assured him it would entail certain death, but that he had counted the cost, and that if the Church asked him to represent her, he woidd rather die in the dis- charge of his duty than live in the neglect of it. I am convinced that, in tlie true martyr spirit, ho gave his life for tlie conversion of India, and that the fruit will ai)pear in due season, lie ardently anticipated glorious results from a Christianised India— a youthful Church with the warmth of the Eastern heart and tlie quickness of the Eastern mind, drawing its ins])iration, not from the stereotyped forms of the West, but directly from the Fountain of Etcnnal Life and Truth. Often did he in the most glowing language picture the effect upon Europe and America, should light again stream from the East to quicken their decaying energies." lie was, therefore, not taken by surprise when the Ocueral Assem- bly of 18G7, acting on the unanimous request of the Mis.sion Board at Calcutta, appointed him, along with Dr. Watson of Dundee, to repre- Bent the Church of Scotland in India. Before he left this country he carefully determined the chief ques- tions to which his attention should be directed. Ever since his enthusiasm had been kindled by his intercour.se at Loudoun with the noble widow of tx-Governor-Oeneral Ljrd Hastings, he hud taken an almost romantic interest in the policy of our Kustcrn em]>ire ; was familiar with the details of every campaign from the days of Clive to the Indian nmtiny ; and had read much <»f the. religion- as well as civil history of the natives. He had nlso for years t.di stranger, who is entertained hospitably every night, ami who conse- i|ucntly retires lute, to luivo his iirst sleep broken by the card of some INDIA. 369 and isolation ation ; for, if ig into a new cts, opinions, 1. To follow its on almost } impressions to return to lify now one (elieved good iviction with ho wished to correct data. look on the lis father had vhich he was able to speal\ n interpreter, itate and saj turns to the lie seems not n the witness think, well 1 lie reply, and ceeded, inter- says, ' Yes,' letely lost his ;ti()n from the /aii ol)liged to ons of Indian ssions hy put- of instinctive ills numerous istic, niul tluur natives were ieh they were ry day, almost )nferriug with italities wliicli y rising there iting, with its r!-itvH, " lor a d who conse- ! card of some i distniguished official handed to him about daybreak." This strain upon his system told more perniciously than he was at the time conscious ot. It was very difficult," Dr. Watson says, "to convince him that, tor a man like him, labour m Scotland, with its cold and bracin^ at- mosphere^ was one thing, and labour in a tropical climate was anoUier thing. He believed it on the whole; but unless the belief was im- pressed on his mind by physical pain or inconvenience, it was in- operative; and he was apt to forget that he was in a re- ion where exertion such as he was accustomed to at home would entail upon him consequences of a serious kind. The only instance in which he seemed to distrust the clnnate of India was in regard to his mode of living He could both enjoy life and forego its enjoyments, as few men could." without a sense ot loss; he could avail himself of the most boundless hospitality, and he could at the most ramptuous table fare like a hpv- mit ; and when, a day or two after his landing in Bombay, he was told by a physician that everything which was safe for him at home was not equally safe in India, he was perfectly unaffected by the news • and so far as meat and drink were concerned, he walked strictlv by medical rule. In all other respects he forgot his belief in the dangers ot India: he spoke in public, he talked in private, he listened? he exerted body and brain from morning till night, he spent himself with- out grudging and without consideration. On one occasion he preached tor about an hour while sailing down the Ked Sea, and at the close of the service he was almost dead. His tace was tlushed, his head ached his brain was confused; and when he retired to his cabin the utmost etb.its were required to restore him. The warning was noted ])y him and often remembered, but it was as often forgotten or neglected after- wards. O b v.» • I shall not attempt," Dr. Watson continues, « to describe the inter- est which was felt amongst all classes in India in the si)eeches and sermons ot Dr. Macleod. The visit of a man of much less note would have attracted some attention, and would have brought together a very large proportion of the English-speaking population in every city which was visited. iMoivover, the novelty of the visit, the tirst of its kind from Scotland, was sulhcient to awaken the sympathies of Cliristians, and to excite the curiosity, if not a deeper feeling, amongst all the races and religions of In« ha. His name had gone belbre him in every pr.)vince. Wo ellorts had been used to draw the notice of the world to his visit • the ordinary publicati(m of n list of pa.s.sengers by the next steamer' confirmmg a rumour that Dr. Macleod was on his way to India, was ©t itselt enough. His arrival was looked forward to with en-urness and, soon alter his lamling. invitations and encpiiries from all paits oi' the country were sent in. Wherever he went he was received with kindness and cordiality ; in many plnces with that deep respect and nu.iu wiiu had adnured his works and had heard of his labours, and in many i)lace8 he welcomed with teehiigs of ardour arising to enthusiasm. was ■4 I lii n ^ ; !f:^ ■il 1 '.ii i Hi' !(i u *' ' i { ( ■! i i ( i -i lii I.. 1 m ■ jB^^ 360 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. The foremost men m India in civil and military and ecclesiastical posts were ready to do him honour and to aid him ; in public and in private they testified for him their personal respect ; and when thev tound him to be a man whoso eyes were observant, whose sympathies were quick, whose large-hearted iiess was so comprehensive and whose numour was so genial and overpowering, it seemed as if all barriers were broken down, and as if they had known him personally aU tlieir lives, he gained access to persons and sources of information which without any wish to disoblige, v\-oiild have been shut to most other utuu« " iVotliing indeed was lacking in the welcome which rrreeted him • and never did visitor appreciate kindness more. But withal he was not misled by tliese marks of tlattery and good-feeling. He could dis- tinguish between the genuine and the unreal : he knew well enou-di that wnilst tliere were many wlio testified their zeal and good-will many more had the future in view, and were careful to propitiate an author who was likely to com.uand as wide a circle of readers as any wricer in Great Britain And, apart from tliis, he had set Jiis heart on the special object wliieh carried him to India ; and all external atten- tions, all readiness to listen, all offers of hospitality or public resix-et were regarded by him as lielps to his work, and as opening up for hini a surer path to th.it knowledge of Indian life and IndiSn affairs ot which he was in search." From hit JouR>fAL :— ••CuiLCiiENNA, July 24, 1867. " Dear place, with what genuine love and gratitudo I write its name ' I thought I was too uM to love nature as I have done. What a time I have tuKl what glorious .scenery, what fresh niorniug.s, and, oh, what eveninos ! With smooth .seas gleaming with the hues of a dove's neck ; mountains witJi every sha.le which can at such tiines bo produced ; Glencoe in huu- shmo . ml in deepest crimson ; Glengoar, with its sunbeams lighting uj) the nil sides with the softest dreamy velvet hues ; mountain masses of one .Ink hue c-learlyu. lined against the bin., sky, and fading into -rev over Duart What clou, shadows, ami what eflects from pines, and cottages with -rev Bmoke and hues of silver along the shore, and the masts of ships at anchor ! 1 raise God lur this glorious world! tlu" world made and adorned bv llini who dierv bunch of given fern, every bit ot binning heather, th(> birches, the pur(> streams, the everything, says, ' I 'ov.' you— love m.^-und rejoice I' Wonu'times I wept, and .sometimes pniyeil. and enjoyed silent praise— I bless Thee for it ! i ^ ' "And then there was my dear family all tom>ther. ami all so well, and the walks, the pic-nics to the hills. (Jlem.,e, (ileng.mr. the fishing in the eyenmg-al sunshine -all happiness- most woiuh-rful for so manv and all , "" : .,';•' '^ '"' "5i»t tHacipnue. it is oi Uoa our FuUiur, and a type ot what will be forever. INDIA. 861 " Forbid that this should hinder us and not rather help us to do our duty, severe duty, and to accept any trial I feel this is a calm harbour in which I am refitting for a long voyage." roJ.M.LtTi>Low,E8q.:- ^'August, mi. "Yes, I go on the 5th of November on a great mission to India, not verily to Presbyterians only, but to see what the eye alone can see, and to verify or test what cannot be seen, but which I either question or believe anent missions in general and education. " I have been in paradise with my family. The heavenly district is called in maps of earth, Locliaber. But what map could give all the gloiy in the world without, and the world witliin 1 " It has been a blessed preparation for labour night and day. I had a mission sermon of good-will to man." To Mrs. Macleod: — " Balmoral, Friday, September IQfh, 1867. " It was a glorious day ; but rather a weary journey from Glasgow yes- te''day. '' This morning's telegram announced the death of Sir Frederick Bruce suddenly at Boston. Lady Frances Baillie, his sister, is here. I have been with her and prayed with her. She accompanies me to Perth to-morrow. I feel very truly for her. Three such brothers. Lord Elgin, General Bruce, and Sir Frederick dying so suddenly ! Mystery ! " I had a long and pleasant interview with the Queen. With my last breath I will uphold tlie excellence and nobleness of lier character. It was really grand to hear her talk on moral courage, and on living for duty." From hia Journal : — "August 11, Glasgow.— 1 have long been convinced of the vast impor- tance of sending a dei)utation to India, and my friends in the Committee knov' it.^ I never brought it formally befire tile Committee IVom an awk- ward, silly feeling of fear lest th(>y should suppose it was a mer- personal ahair. I had, liowever, I believed, mentioned to friends in private that so convinced was I of its importance, that 1 was disposed to hazard the ofler of my going at my own expense. " How often did I ponder over India ! It possessed me, but I held inv- self in. I determined not to lead but to follow. Tho Lord knows how often I asked Ills counsel. '' When tho Sunday question cam? up, I gave up all thoughts of India. I telt then that I was tabooed. I would, in.leeil. have resigned the C..n- vcmership, except from tho determination not to .• ii'fess any sinse of wrong- doing which I did not fc ', I learned but the other day that a meeting was called at the time to get mo to resign ; the vote was ♦rvken and carrio.l against them. I thank God for tho noble freedom of ti.(> Church, which could not only entertain the thought of sending me, but act upon it as thev have done. Aftr r \\\y rejHrft for tho List ;\Kscmblv was Hni-^^hed, a Icltcr uiie Iroiii Calcutta, from our Corresponding Hoard, "riMniesting the Convener to visit India. i hi; : 4 M Hi ! It' l:Jii ^62 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. " T called a meeting in Edinburgh of a few friends in the Committee, best fitted to advise me. They told me I must lay an official document be- fore the Committee. The meeting was called by the Moderator of Assem- bly, and I was absent. All I said was that this Assembly should decide one way or other, if I, a man fifty-six years of age, was even to consider the proposal. I telegraphed next day to Dr. Craik to print their deliver- ance, whatever it was, so that the Assembly might have it before them in a tangible form. It wa ; printed accordingly, and I simply read it, excusing the fact of its not being in the report, from the request having come so late, and in this form taking me aback. The Assembly discussed the question, and were, strange to say, unanimous in granting tho request, if the Presby- tery of Glasgow agreed thereto, and if Funds were raised independent oi the subscriptions for the Mission. Mr. Johnstone, of Greenock, nobly of- fered to guarantee £1,000 if I went, and so thi? barrier was removed ! " My physicians said Yes. " My wife said Yes, if God so wills. My aged and blessed mother said Yes. " My congregation? Well, I wrote dear James Campbell, my wise, cau- tious, loving, and dear friend and elder, and he read to my Session a letter ^v.itten from Cuilchenna, which told the whole truth, and the Session said Yes. Could I say Nol Could I believe in God, as a guide, and say No? It was difficult to say Yes. The wife and bairns made it difficult ; Uit was I to be a coward, and every officer in the army to rebuke me 1 No ! I said Yes, with a good concience, a firm heart, after much prayer, and I dared not say No. " No doubt all my personal feelings, the Mission question excepted, would keep me at home. I have seen so much of the world that I would not go to India for the mere purpose of visiting it as a travellor, should I see it in a month for nothing from the Himalayas to Cape Comorin. I would not give a week in Rome, which I have never seen, for any time in India, were it close at hand. " Apart from Missions, nothing could possibly induce me to run risks, encounter fatigue, and make such sacrifices in my fifty-sixth year. " i cannot as Convener lay my hand on any one authentic and reliable book or report, enabling me to get a clear, firm, unhesitating grasp of the real state, difficulties, and requirements of our Missions, " We are at this moment passing through a crisis in our Mission history both in India and at home. There are questions of increased salaries, ac- cording to the circumstances of each Mission station ; the employment of home native teachers ; the employment — its nature, place, pay, etc., of native ministers, with their future relationship to the Board, the local Presbytery, and the Committee ; the formation of Corresponding Boards, and the clear- ing up of constantly recurring misundorshmdings with them ; the personal examination into the actual conditi(>.i u each Mission station, and the en- couraging of t!ie missionaries ; the cl-i aining accurate information through lettt r,s from tho Homo Govenini'^ia to the Indian Government, and from every leading Missionaiy Societs ijiouring in India, that so, by confidential communications with representatii'o men of all parties and creeds, we may esfin);ito the actr.Hl Btate and pnH;i->::[=i of Missions in India. Such in a faint outline of some of the objucty of « deputation as far as India is con- •cerned. INDIA 363 id mother said 1, and the en- "As to the danger, it is nothing, for God is everywhere. As to family. He can take care of them ; so can he of the dear congregation. But it seems to me,— and surely my Father will not let me be in darkness !— to be my duty, and so I go, in the name of God— Father, Son and Spirit. ''August 20.— Dear Watson goes with me. Thank God the way is clear "The one grand difficulty is tlie fact that I have not, since the Sabbath controversy, been much of a pastor. God knows I have not been spending my time selfishly. Every hour has been occupied for the public— that is my small public— good. There has been no idleness. But I have not been able amidst my work to visit, and though I condemn myself by the confes- sion, yet I will make it, that a chief, yea, the chief ground of ministerial usefulness, is the personal attachment of the people, and this is gained most by personal visitation. It is a righteous ground, I am amazed at their patience and attachment to me ! My only consolation is my heartfelt at- tachment to tnem — if they only knew how gi-eat it is ! " Come life or death, I believe it is God's will. I ask no more. All results are known to Him. Enough if He in mercy reveals His will. To suspect myself deceived would be to shatter all my faith in God. Agam I say I know not in what form He is to be glorified in or by us. All I know is, that I solemn'.y believe God says, ' It is my will that you go.' " But when I clunk of probabilities, I would be overwhelmed unless I knew that I was not to be over-anxious about the morrow, or about any- thing, but to rest on God for each day's guidance, strength and blessing. The many I shall meet, the importance of all that is said or done, the responsibility of personal influence, emanating from personal being ; the sermons and addresses ; the questions to be asked, and the judging of the rei»lies to them; the patience, truth, and perseverance, judgment and tem- per needed ; the redeeming, in short, of this magnificent talent when abused. How solemn the thought ! And then the right use of it when I return— the labour and wisdom this implies— the results which depend on its use ! How aff'ecting! And I getting so old— little time left— and having so many difiiculties from within and without ! But the good Master knows all— and He is so good, so patient, so considerate, forbearing, strengthening, ovor-ruling ! Amen. " I have no legacy to leave in the form of wishes. I leave God to arrange all. For my family I have but one wish, that these dear ones— each a part of my being— shouhl know (iod, and be delivered from evil. Kicli or poor, vvell or ill, my one cry to God is, ' Mav they be Thine through faith in Jesus, and obedience to Thy holy commandments.' "And God will provide for my dear people. Oh, how good thev have been to me !" To James A. Campbell, Esq. "I think Young's view of sacrifice superficial in the extreme, and that in Jus de.siro to give prominence to j)ersonal righteousness as the grand end of Christ s work, m which I cordially sympathize, he leaves really no room for \?n «!\*^ ^^ ^^^ "*' "^'""^•^' _^"*^ ^^ f ^?'^^''' "'^*' '"'^ '^'"■'^ ^" ^^'^ subject with !uo. aiu. no hjuut for writing, I wuu't indulge in critioisiii. The best book out ot sight, I think, on tiiis gieat question is Cami)bell's, my very dear triend. It has defects when brought to the severe test of exeir'osis. but it W the best uovertholoss. m ' i\ 364 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD, I i _ " I quite agree with Mr. that it ought to be the aim of the legisla tion of every Church to make its dogmatic basis square more and more^Avith the creed of the Church Catholic. A Church is catholic only when it is capable, aa far as its creed is concerned, of embracing living Christendom, so that a member or minister righteously deposed from its communion should thereby he deposed as righteously from the whole Catholic Church. " I think the Popish Church eminently sectarian, and the most remark- able union, or rather disunion of 'Catholics' I have ever seen was in the Holy Sepulchre, around the symbol of the grand fact which sliould unite all — Jesus the Kesurrection and the Life. "As to the question of the Sabbath, it never did nor could excite my enthusiasm. It is an outside question, interesting theologicallv as involvino ihe higher question of the relation between the old and new dispensations] Judaism and Christianity. Practically, we are all one in wishing and bless- ing God for a day for social worship ; and for enjoying, in its rest from ser- vile labour, a blessed opportunity for deepc.iing our sjjiritual rest with Christ in God. I protested against the base superstition attached to it, which in the long run would, as education and independent thought advanced, but weaken its basis and turn against it those who wished most to preserve it. I also protested, at the risk of my life, for more elbow-room for the clergy ! " How strange and sudden has been the revolution, that I, who two yeiirs ago was threatened with deposition, and was made an off-scouring by so many, am this year asked by the Assembly to be their representative in India ! God's ways are verily not our ways !" /''/w/i Professor Max Muller: — "I hope your visit to India will give a new impetus to the missionary work in India, by showing how much more has really been achieved than is commonly supposed. One cannot measure the success of a missionarv by the number of converts he has made, and it does not seem tome likely that Christianity will, for some time to cojue, s],roa'eat joy verily, and perfect peace to preach it. I never had such a day ! "The Mission Church was crowded in the evening. I preached on 'I T^ll Z Ti n ^ ^""Tr "^^^"^^^^l-' A glorious text ! Dear friends, Mrs. Lockhart, the Crui.s, Mrs. Campbell, were there, and Peel Dennistoun (my own son), who joined in communion for the lii-st time to-dav "Again I say what a day of joy ! "ti",; "^""Z^ ''^^""^ *''/'''^' P"'"'» ^'"^ '^^^^^^"S God. Amen and Amen, .p-ii ^*"T: . 'I ""^T? * ""'^^'^ ''* ^^«™<'- I i^*^ -e finished my story of Bdly Buttons -how I know not ! I hardly recollect an idea of it. To- day visited sick, and baptized, &c. I have had a happy party with me: my mvSlt'nT'y^^ ^""^r'^ "^^ ^^^'^ ^"^^«' "'/l^' others and sistem -my children! What a blessed meeting, finished by prayer. I wrote thirty letters last night, after meeting of Session, from 1 1 till 4 A m. -fhank God I wrote with a full heart a most cordial letter to Dr. Duff but It grieves my soul to hear that they open the ' Free Barony' to-morrow! the day I leave and that Dr. Duff opens it i Nine hearers only left the Barony twenty-four years ago and joined the Free Church ; on the Sunday tTroSr?nT\^'**^^Tl'-""^'^^r^^^''"^y' ^'''■' I" contrast with tile old] In Doctrine 1 Discipline? Worship? What? " God sees all, and He is better than us all. " I have left everything in order. I believe I shall return safe. But oh ' those I leave behind. I joy in God ! I know He is with me, and will ^ u Ain ""i ''''^ "^^^^ 1"^' P"^"" ^ ^ ^"^' advance His Kingdom. Amen ' What mo]-e can 1 desire ? Mv m!;w ?f°? ^% f\ '^^"'"^''^^ ''^%?^ ^^ ^^^^ "^^ °f Hi« goodness. My leather, it is all between me and Thee. " Father, I am Thy child : keep me as a child ! Amen and Amen. d\st October, 1 A M.-P.S.-I must here record the pleasing fact that two engme-drivei-s from the Caledonian Railway called here' to day to express the wish of themselves and couirades that I wouhl speak a good word to their brother engine-drivers in India ! They were to Ld me" he names of their friends abroad. This is very deliglitful and encouraging.'' \v^f''^\}'^ ^""^^ ^'''''J°" "^ ^are^^ell dinner was given in liis honour at Wilhss Eooms, at which Dean AHurd presided, and niany friend? literary and clerical, were present. ^ ^itnub, Tlie effects of the fatigue lie had suffered during the last few weeks told visibly on his health. When he started for Paris, his limbs 2 inlndr ' '""^^°"«^ ^^ n^^^'ly all the time he was His impressions of India have l^een so fully narrated in his "Peep., at the lar East" that only a few extracts lium his letters are given heru for biographical purposes :— *= ' INDIA. 36^ ■. the working ; in the Mis- hese were my T sister Jane, not written ; perfect peace aached on '1 friends, Mrs. nnistoun (my a and Amen, my story of a of it. To- ivith me: my 3 and sisters !r. I wrote i A.M. to Dr. Duff, ' to-morrow, anly left tlie . the Sunday ontrast with fe. But oh! ae, and will Amen ! is goodness. ^men. ig fact that i to-day to eak a good nd me the uraging." honour at y friends, few weeks limbs and Qe he was is "Peeps given hero. To Mrs. MACLEOD : — " We are running along the coast of Sicily. The day superb a fresh sum mer breeze blowing after us, and every sail set, the blu^e wSves curHiS Zr' shaded with the high clouds. No sickness; cl)iklren even laughing No hmg can be more exhilarating. I have been very well, thouTthe hmbs are as yet much about it. We have a very pleasant party on board Such writing, ijadmg, chatting, laughing, smoking, Litting, walking, loung- mg, eating and drinking on the part of the seventy passengers yfu nevfr " I am getting crammed all s very striking. The huge red moon was rising over the village, between us and the sky was the outline of the temples, with banyan and other trees Shep- hei-ds were driving in flocks of sheep and goats, while in the centre of the picture was the group of white-robed Christians, pastors, elders, and people with tlie missionaries from the great Western world. f f > " The night will soon pass ! "At eight we returned to the same place, accompanied by who like most Europeans, knows nothing almost of the American Missio'n or 'any other; and though seventeen yeai-s in the distriot, had never visited or ex- amined mto It, and would have no doubt told the people at home that they were doing nothing. He confessed his surprise at what he saw. There were thirty Christians and about seventy heathens present. Psalms were sung in Mahratti and the tunes Mahratti also, the precentor being a pastor who accompanied the air on a big guitar, held vertically like a bass fiddle. Ihen prayer, then an address on Transmigration of Souls. Then one by a famous native preachei^ intellectual, calm, and eloquent, Kamechuna, on the only true religion which, he said, was in accordance with the character of txod, the wants of men, and was revealed in Scripture. Amon^ other evi- dences he mentioned the moral character of Christians, and appealed to the very heathen to judge as to the difference between the native Christians and lie native heathen I gave an address on both occasions, which was trans- lated, and so did Watson.^ They gave an address to us. The Moderatoi' kee Ts okr'' ^'''"'^"'''"^^'"S a letter after me, which I beg you to copy and "I never spent a more delightful evening in my life! The Americans 24 i ; III i; I M I. ^ I M ' I ^ J I i; ;l; m i 870 XZF^ OF NORM AN MACLEOD. have six hundred members, seventy or eighty teachers, six native pastors with excellent schools lor Christian childrfn o'nly. PreUi^rrtheF^orte: Chri^tianitv wLTn i n^7«tenes in this land to hear natives teach y^ZZtt^^^tl "" P'T''*^ '^ ^^'^y ^^^^«^* i^ it« favour, for from immornmv f S"'^ r'^'P*'"'^ ^* ^' "^"'•- ^heir difficulties are not trom immoiahty. for their lives are equal to the average of most professin- though not real. Christians at home. They are happy, on the whole fn their families, live aJl together, and are fond of their relations, andlre sober and among each other, tolerably truthful and honest-and, on the ^S' S Ch isWt?' t\ ^'' "" *'"^^ *^^^^^*^^« «^-% intellectual, thouth the Christian ty which they oppose is often misapprehended-I fear in some tiT bI;* tl" T^ T-^' -i-epresented-by isionaries witSe cul! ture. But their difficulties are social; they have not, as yet, the deep con victions and the moral strength to give up Caste. This wi ^almost Sr'' Tf -^ *^^.««king up of their whole family life-par'eSs ^fe children, and friends being separated from them as literally out-casr But' nevertheless, I cannot comprehend the want of soul, the Apparent want of a capacity to be possessed, overpowered, mastered by the tri i. Many wiH fly round and round the light, but never see it. They will give the il7est account of Christianity, and say they disbelieve in all idolaV, yet every day perform at home their idolatrous rites-be almost ready fo? ordinatTon^ Flfhtr^Xm^''^^ " ' '''''"^ ^ *^^ ^^^^ ^^- ^uperstitiorri To the Same ; — " Bombay, December 1. " It seems an age since I left heme. I feel as if I were an old Indian and had become familiar with heat and heathenism. I have been very weS' " r n"^ '" ""If ' '' "^ ^^i"" ''''-' ^"^ I h-^v^ ^« pain of an/ki^d." As to our work here, everything has succeeded beyond our most san gume expectation We have seen much, heard much, and, I hope TeaS much. We feel that we have done good. ^ ' "I communicated yesterday with the native congregation of the Free Church. About eighty communicants." * From a letter of Sir Alexander Gbant to a iriend a* home :— "I had a select party of educated natives to meet Dr. Macleod He talks to them ma large, conciliatory, manly way, which is a perfect model always till 2 A.M., and his mixture of poetry, thought, tenderness manlv wTsC ar""?i^7"t *' "' Irr'^^!«'i«!•*f»l• ' '-d no iZ iiirso 1^ was so great. His testimony about India will be most valuable for he has such quickness of apprehension as well as 'argeness of view, and W im^ such wide previous experience of all European Churches and countries." To Mrs. Watson i— • "Bombay, November 29ih, 1807. " If you are in the least degree inclined to pity your beloved absent.-e, to Boul. spirit, or body, or in his conduct to ««j,erior8, inferiors, or equals, I beg INDIA. 1 of the Free 371 HeT[?/wv '* f '"'^ thoughtful, spouselike care, are thrown away " Those who don't know hun, a« I do, are immensely taken with him ! " To his Mother -.— " Madras, 2^rd December, 1867. ,fj, „ "^'i^n.aB, ^oru jjeccmocr, 1867. It wa, . teZ!'J.n''*°f * l""*" """'r^T of the iirat break in „„r family . those who part^k S the ^Uw aTto mv.r"^ '''■If""' "r"'*"" faith that ai „„ dear ones abo^'^^zeTa ^^^S.ere,..""'" "■" To Mrs. Macleod :— „ T 1 , , " Bangalore, Last Sunday of 1867. vanity! the bestTotsTo^T^ul^^lndtith^lT ^.llVS^^^^^^ f^'T'* and have left undone, and all I am wi h a 1 L bCd r 'l"? V"' ^^"*'' done, and is, and ever will be to me i fi.fi, / '■ ^*'^' '*'^"' ''"'^ cent suitableness to all mv wants to nil wJ.i,!! iVl i I , nuignifi- a part worthy of a Chtwli. , Chu ch' ™ aavwiL m. I""*', "' *" f' a., ,,,,,.„„-fo. /„. ,„y. ,> „7.4;j;;» .t^'lTTi^' ''.iiis;:^ tiirL"™'" ^Tn "',','° ■''■''''"•''■ ''"''• Tl»t wa, a b„sy ,l«v I Eidit * > JeoS^ sr, eitifr "°;:LrrLr=' - ^:t« ■ <^":" the p^ence of 4e JSu,„,h„„ m...io™rierK,M:h«oH;;a;u;™^jS li • Hu brotJu-r Junies' death. !'?'■! 1 ll r ' I : ! i ! I if 372 ZIFE Oi NORMAN MACLEOD. well as I could. We asked, and got, information showing the great changes which have taken place in the native mind in regard to parsecuting con- verts, (fee. A.t half-past five we had a magnificent meeting in the groat Memorial Hall, with ths bishop in the chaii-. The Governor, Commander- in-Chief, present, and all the Mite of Madras. I suggested the meeting, to toll on Madras and Home, and to challenge contradiction on the spot to the statements which each missionary gave of the history and condition of his mission. I sjioke, and so did Watson. The Bishop is a most Christian man : his meekness makes him great. At eight, conference in our Institu- tion ; dinner at nine. Pretty hard day ! " December 31.— The last day of the year ! It is impossible to write, 1 am weary of ' attentions '—people at breakfast, people at tiffin, people at dinner, people calling ; then meetings, visiting of schools, &c., &c., so that I have not one second to myself. It is now cwo, and not a moment. "We had about twelve yesterday here to bieakfast— Wesleyans— one of wiiom came out the same year as Duff", We talked till one, Many of them did not seem acquainted with any difficulties. said, I go to a village, sit down, tell them they must live after death, and forever be in hell or heaven, and then tell them how to get out of hell by Jesus Christ.' Gal- vanism, and Plymouthism, and indiflerence, seem to divide the Europeans. There are noble civilians, and bad ones ; fine, manly missionaries, and weak ones. We require a broad, manly, earnest Christianity, and not formal orthodoxy, weak ' Evangelicalism,' or sickly Plymouthism. "We drove through the liettah, or native town, with its crowded bazaars. The houses are low and the bazaars poor ; yet many are very rich in it. Saw silk-weaving by the native loom. Saw the best female school I think to be found in Indifi, taught by two truly noble women — so clever and energetic, such genuine ladies— the Misses Anstey, They have money of their own ; their work is one of true love. Wliat teaching ! what influ- ence ! what power! Tlie senior class of fifty girls; the junior, with two hundred or more. I could not puzzle the senior class on the Old Testament from Genesis to Samuel, nor on the New in the Gospels and Acts. All are Cnnarese ; but my tpiestions wore interpreted. They do not yet profess Christianity, but never can these oe idolaters ; and whether they marry Christian husbands or heathen, they must exercise a leavening influence. My heart and eyes were full." "Jamiari/ 1, 18G8, lianijalore.—T\m is my first greeting for '68 Our |)lans are again changed, and instead of biinging in the year in the rail- way we are speni^% wcoK we leave for Gyah on the 3rd. Like a school-boy I sav 'Tho month after next I hope to leave India for home !' " ^ ^' " Calcutta, 31si! January. i^Vom the Friend of India, Jan. 23r(l, 1868:— "The presence of Dr. Macleod has cheered many a worker and helped to enlighten many a doubter. More remarkable than his receptive i owe, . noliti^^nr-" '^^"""^' "^^^^^^^ ''"''' '"- to appreciate the merSs of i >st n "; political questions; more striking than his marvellous conversationa lifts more impressive than his public speeches, have been his sermons That is the perfection of art without art. Of his three sermons in Ca kutta two were ad.lressed to doubters, being devoted to a semi^.lulo o Jiin I exp^^^^ ot our Lord's D.vm.ty and Atonement. He spoke Is a man to menCt ^ a ,,r.est to beings of a lower or,ler ; ho reasoned as one who had 1 il'e fe t he darkness, avowedly to help those who were still in th.> gloo n V fe ta Uon seems as for.Mgn to tho character as it is to the tho„^:^,t o f th s Joh and low who lock. .1 to hear him, was, as it seems to us, that truth and ^::^fr^\ ' '"^; *"' — t'^"*^^^ "^" «^^^ -<^ -press;/;;; ;' K^ In^X;;';;;: -[r^"'-^ *" ^'^^ P"'P*^ -^ *- '••«•'-• '"■-^- than tl. in p!i r,f" '^ "Tf"'^'"' '''■■'^^.'^•^'•^'^^ «!"»'« '«« ^vel] as its unexpeeted elnso n C.ileutta i he reception there aecunlcl to the Deputies was i.eeu- aily hearty; hut the lati-Mie nn.l mental excitement prclnccJ by spoeches, sem. .113, conterenees, and a.hlresses wore exissivo • and " ' -'-^ "^ ""■" "-'""" -^^■"•^k.s labour in the capital, a n I piii.lic (liniiur was given to them— the fi 1st wiiich the Guvernor-( ien- 374 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. eral ever honoured wich his presence — Dr. Macleod made a speech which proved the last he was to dehver in India. From Dr. Watson's account of the work gone through on that single day, it is not wonder- ful that, at midnight, he found himself prostrated with illness. " In the morning he drove from the suburbs, whera he was living, to a meeting in the city, where he spoke about half an hour. From that he went to the General Assembly's Institution, and took an active part in the examination w hich was held of the various classes : this "ver, the advanced students of the Free Church Institution assembled along with the students who had just been examined ; and in that great hall, which was full, and which accommodated about a thousand persons, he delivered a vigorous and stirring address, which lasted a full hour. When the proceedings came to a close, a large company were enter- tained to lunch hy' Dr. Ogilvie at his nouse, and then, of course, no one cared to hear anybody say a word except the guest of the day. When he reached home that afternoon, after a drive of five or six miles, he was in a state of sheer exhaustion ; and though he was most nervous about the evening, ]ie tried to snatch an hour of sleep ; for he wished to do perfect justice to his work, and he felt that in cue sense the work of his mission was to terminate with the dinner, which was arranged for eight o'clock tliat night, wher jvoi, ; phase of English life in India would be represented from the n, t- downwards. " He had spoken often of his desire to give expression on this occasion to some of his strong convictions on the relation of India to England, or of Eiigliblmien U. India ; and though he had had an oppor- tunity at a large meeting previously, presided over by the Bishop of Calcutta, to speak on missionary affairs, he felt that the last occasion when he was to open his lips in p iblic before he left Bengal, was one which necessitated a wider range of subject than any ecclesiastical topic, liowt'ver interesting or important. His reception in the evening was most hearty. H« rose with a heavy sense of what he was to say ; snd, as was often the case with him in his most earnest moments, he lifted with a lew unpremeditated strokes of humour and homely ^wirds which toticlied aU Iwarts, and in a niin"te or two brouglit hini- gdf ifflta» raf>pm>i. with the audience and the audience with him. "()uly (»n one ucuawon, when he iielivt"(Mi his last memorable i^etteii m the General Assembly, a few weeks Iwfo-e his death, have I SMA hini so agitate*', and, to use a common exprntiHion, ' wewhted' as he was tiien ; and it was with a deep sense of reliet t liat, towards mid- niglit, he stretched out Lis teet and smokerl his cigar before going to bed, having received the asHurance, from those he relied on, that i'.il his anxiety and care in regani to that last appearance in pubjic in India iiad not been thrown awav." To Mrs. Macleod ; "Ualcutta, 1th Ftbrmru. ♦' On compaiiiig tJiis date with that on telegram you will be surprised at INDIA. 375 my being here, especially if you have read the Friend of India and learn that I have been 'prostrated by fatigue ' you will be in delightful anxiety, and my mother will h^ve food for alarm until I return home. " Just after the teleg. am was off I was threatened with dysentery So the doctors gave me forty grains of ipecacuanha in two doses m a few hours. This was on Wednesday. I at ouce said Amen, lay in bed, obeyed orders, and slept all day, read newspapers, &c., when awake, saw no one, and thoroughly enjoyed the blessed rest. The complaint was checked yesterdav and between the perfect rest and medicines I feel gout all gone, and except the weakness of being in bed, nearly perfectly well, very jolly and not the least dowie, though very thankful indeed that I am so well. To show yo-a how sensible and good I am, I have allowed Watson go off alone to Gyah the only really rough and rude drive on our route, and I remain here doini nothing, seeing nobody, in the full rollicking enjoyment of idleness, till Tuesday or Wednesday. I am even now able to join him, but I take four days ho iday, though my not going to Gyah is a terrible loijs and self-denial. This will prove to you what I always t.3ld you, that I would return direct home, if necessary, the moment any doctor said or believed I should do so Are you Siitished t Don't you feel I am telling you the whole truth 1 Look at me ! Don 1 1 look honest 1 "The fact is the back of the work is broken ! It is, I may say, done, ^nd well done and all to come is plain sailing, s- that if I did not go to Sealkote at all (but only went by rail to Delhi to see sights), I should feel a work was already accomplisiied far beyond my most sanguine expectations. It was not the work only, but the excitement that put me wrong. I never preached to such cougregations. Tiie admission was bv ticket, a-ikd stairs and lobbies were crammed, and many went away. "The Mission Meeting was a gi-eat event. Such was never betore held m Calcutta called by the Jiishop, and attended by all denominaLions, and such an audience to welcome us. " Then came on Saturday an evening meeting as great on Oity Missions 1 was takea all aback. Bat it was a great success, and they tell me I have re-estab ished an agency which was declining. The public dinner made mo asliamed ot having so much honour paid us, though it was given to us as deputies. The Viceroy had never gone to a public dinner in Calcutta, and to see such guests meet to do us honour and bid ua farewell ! It uassed off splendidly ! ^ " We have had many deeply interesting private meetings with mis- sionaries— Zenana included, which I cannot dwell on ; but one nieetin- 1 must mention. T addressed the lads attending our Institution, and at my request all the lads of the Free Ch .rch liistitution, who understood Kiiglish came to hear me. and all the missionaries, is well as many of the ladies! They have met me with unbounded conhilence. They are a nice lot of fellows. In one word, (Jod hao helped us, and helped us in a way that quite amazes and ovnrpowers me. May He give me grace iic . or to pervert those great tokens ot His mercy to personal deotarian ol)j(«cts. _ ' The JJishop lias been very kind, and Sir John' Lawrence has acted liko » brother to me; ia tact, all have contrived how to please and oblige us." "CALruTTA, Sntunhy, Fehruary 9. " Since writing to you yesterday, wiwt a change has taken pJaoo in all ■>«/?;'a<.'yv r? 376 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. my plans ! 1 intend leaving this for home on March 3, so that as you are reading this I am on the ocean going home. Are you not glad and thank- tul t 1, on the whole, am. It happened thus : last night Dr. Charles said, It you had asked me, I should have forbid your going to Sealkote.' ' Hallo '' I said; 'asked you]' 'Take my word I shall ask you, and that most seriously, and no mistake.' So I insisted that he, Dr. Farquhar, mj old friend, and Dr Fayrer, Professor of Surgery, should meet here to-day' and give an official opinion. They have done so.* They don't object to my going along the railway as far as Delhi, especially as the climate is better ther(! tJ.an here, but object to dak travelling,-*.^., going in a cab and two horses as far as from Glasgow to London and back !~in my present state : and they object to my being later than the first week of March, as the climate might from present symptoms prove dangerous. I feel thoroughly well to- day except weakish from so much medicine. I am quite lame again in the heel ; hnt they laugh at that. Thank God the real work is done and well done -ii ad this come on one day sooner ! As it is, I am full of gratitude for all that ha.s been done, and bow my bead for what I cannot accomplish. Dear Watson is thoroughly able to do it as well as I am, and since he is so well he will enjoy it as I would have done. Amen ! Verily God's plans are not ours. "^ * After a brief tour to Benares, Allahabad, Caw.ipore, Lucknow, A ' To his Mother, on his Birthday :— " Jime 3rd. "I am quite safe in saying that I have wi-itten to you, say forty letters. on my birthday ; and whatever was defective as to number in niv letters was made up by your love. Now T bngin to think the whole affair is gettiu-' stale to you. In short, you anticipate all I can say, am likely to say, or ought to say ; and having done so, you l^egin to read and to laugh and cry time about, and to praise me to all my unfortunate brothers and sisters untu they detest me till Juno 4th. Dun'l you feel grateful I was born « l?i 1868. 381 f " n l*^''''^^'^l* ^ '"''^'^ y°" ^^■^' ^^•^ ^0 winder. I need not enu- mer».teaIlthose well-known personal and domestic virtues which have often ^lletl forth your praises, except when you are beaten at backgammon But there IS another side of the question with which I have to do, and that is whetlier I ought to be so very grateful to you for the event with which June 3rd, 181J, m associated. As I advance in life, this question becomes more mtewsting to me, and it seems due to the interests of truth and justice to state on this day, when 1 have had fifty-six years' experience of life in its most varied forms, that I am by no means satisfied with your conduct on that occaswn, and that if you fairly consider it, I feel assured you will justify me m deixianding from you the only reparation possible— an ample apology and a solemn promise never to do the like again ! You must acknowledge that you took a very great liberty with a man of my character and position, not to ask me whether I was disposed to enter upon a new and important state of existeuce , whether I should prefer winter or summer to begin the trial or whether I should be a Scotchman, Irishman, or Englishi.,an ; or even ^. hether 1 should be ' man or woman born ; ' each of these alternatives in- volving to me most important consequences. What a good John Bull I would have made! what a rattling, roaring Irishman! what a capital mother or wife ! what a jolly abbess ! But you doomed me to be born in a tenth-wte provincial town, half Scotch, half Highland, and sealed my doom as to sex and country. Was that fair ? Would you like me to have done that to you 1 Suppose through my fault you had been born a wild Spanish papist what would you have said on your fifty-seventh birthday, with all your J^otestant convictions? Not one Maxwell or Duutroon related to you! you yourself a nun called St. Agnese ! and all, forsooth, because I had willed that you should be born at Toledo on June 3rd, 1812 ' Think of It, mother seriously, and say, have you done to me as you would have had me do to you 1 "Then again, pray who is to blame for all I have suffered for fifty-six years } Who but you? This reply alone can be made to a thousand ques- tions which press themselves on my memory, until the past seems a history of misery endured with angelic patience. Why, I might ask, for example, did I live for weeks on insipid 'lythiiigs,' spending days and nights scream- ing, weeping, hiccoughing, with an old woman swathing and unswathing me, wnose nature retires from such attentions 1 Why had I for years to learn to walk and speak, and amuse aunts and friends like a young parish tool, and wear frocks— fancy me in a frock now, addressing the Assembly ' and yet I had to wear them for years ! Why have I suffered from mumps, hoopmg-cough, measles, scarlet fever, toothache, headache, lumba<^o <>, o.. *-A^^.9» IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1^ B P-^ I 40 20 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 -• 6" — ► "■'l V ^ # Photogi^phic Sciences Corpordiion 33 WfST MAIN STRiyT WEBSTIR.N.Y 14580 (716) 873-4SC3 1. NJ §s iV ^ ^#> o C/j '''''''^'''mmmmmmmm LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. bad words ; with Sunday questions and week-day questions ; with all sorts of people, from Ti-embling Jock to the Queen ; with friends and relations, Jews and Greeks, bond and free? Why all this, and a thousand times more, if not simply and solely because, forsooth, of your conduct on June 3rd, 1812 1 No wonder it is a solemn and sad day to you ! No wonde^ you sigh, and — unless all good is out of you — weop too. I was told my poor father on the day I was born, hid himself in a hayrick from sheer anxiety. He had some idea of what was doing. But, dear soul ! he always gave iu to you, and it was in vain for either of us to speak. I am told I yelled very loud — I hope I did — I could do no more then ; and I can do little more now than protest, as I do. against the whole arrangement. " An American expressed 'o a friend of mine a great desi'^e to visit Siam, as he understood its people were all twins ! The thought makes me tremble. What if I had been born like the Siamese twins ! Think of my twin brother and myself going as a deputy to India : in the same berth, speaking together at the same meeting, sick together at sea, or both suffering from gout, and you concerned and anxious about your poor dear boys t What, supposing my twin had married Mrs. 1 " Mother dear, repent ! " One good quality remains : I can forgive, and I do forgive you this day, in pledge of which I send you my love, l)ig as my body, yea without limit, as large a kiss as my beard and moustache will permit. " This is a glorious Highland day ! What delicious air ! It blows and rains, and is as bitterly cold as the most ardent Celt could desire. " The amusing prattle of eight children in the house, craving for excite- .nent, with nothing to do, is truly soothing, and acts as balm to my nervous system. The sail yesterday was charming, and the canal boat with a cram- med cabin and heavy rain, was too delightful for a gouty world. " Glencoe, if you could sec it tluough this thick rain, is grand, and the rattling of tlie windows from the wind quite musical. I am trying to cure my gout by walking in wet grass, so keep your mind easy !" To A. Stkadan, Esq. :— ** Friday. " I send, for yourself only, the enclosed hints from . Now you know the real love that he has to us personally, and to G. W. I therefore value such hints, though I confess that I do not know to what he alludes. But to guard against the possibility of a single I'xpression being printed by us which the weakest Christian could be pained by, I beseech you to let me see every MS. or proof before being piinted off. I, as a minister, am more con- versant than you can be with religious topics and the pulse of the religious world. Ji(!aicU's, as you also know, my diM delight in Good Words is its power of doing good. God knows this is more precious to me than all the gold and silver on earth could be." To Miss StOTT MONCKIEFI' :— " The past and the future seem to me to bocomo every day more vivid, wliile the more immediate point is more confused and vanishing. The old li/iiiiii ill I )iilL-iiit li I'lil'lr is iii>Vi>r Ollllitv Imf iilwux'i. full f/> mo u;if)i tmrtrtla who are always happy, and can never die. Ho are other houses of my friends. le mure now 1868 38^ Thank God for memory and for hope ! When these earthly houses are dis- covered by us at la^t to be empty, and all our thoughts about them dreams then at the same moment we shall also discover that another home is inhabit- ed by the same dear friends, and that our dreams cease only when we have awoketo and met with realities. My dear Norman has left us this mornine to begin commercial life in Liverpool. He, and two of his sisters, joined us on luesday at our winter communion, but as I entered his bed-room after he was gone it was very dream-like—' In deaths oft.' " From his Journal : — "Sunday, July 19.— What are called innocent enjoyments, with much which makes up and adds to the happiness of life — poetry, painting smiles and laughter, the sallies of playful wit, or the quiet chuckle, the delightful emotions-half smiles, half tears,— created by humour, the f imilv lun in summer evenings in the open air— all that kind of life which we eniov and remember with such enjoyment (albeit mingled with sadness, not for what It was, but because it is not)— why is this not associated in our minds with saintsliip and holiness? Is it because those who are not holy possess it all ] Yet this would only prove the liberality of God, and not the sinfulness ot man— or any inconsistency in saints partaking of it. Is it that such happiness is sin ? This cannot be. It would be a libel on all our instincts and leelmgs and the whole round of life as appointed by God. Is it that we have formed wrong ideas of saintsliip, and created, as in medieval art such notions as would make saintship impossible, or utterly outre and grotesque in the Exclmnge, or behind the counter, or on a Eailway Board, or com- mittee of Parliament ? Yet it is in such places we need saints most Or is It that wo make such men as the apostles examples of what all men should be, and thence conclude that if so, the life I have alluded to must be wrong earthly, and unworthy of men, as it could not be theirs? But, again I look at the flowers Christ has made, and listen to His singing birds, whose bills and throats, and instincts He has made, and con over all the gay and beau' tiful 'trifles' Ho has attended to as the Maker of the world, and which He called very good, and in which He has pleasure, and so the 'methodistical' view of hie does not hold. But may not a life in harmony with this in which the small flowers, and the small singing birds, and tin; perfumes. Ind the lights and shadows and sparkling waves, shall hold their own with the great mountains and mighty oceans, and intellectual and luonil harmonies among God's groat beings, bo the normal state of things, and be ivnioduced m the now heavens and the new earth ? The sorrows and sadness of Christ and of nien like St. Paul would thus be abnormal, conditioned by the evil of Bin. They would be as the sadness of a family because of a death an. I burial but which was not their natural condition. Tlu? world's greatest men, in Gods sense, God's own elect ones, the kings and princes of humanity, are thus necessarily the greatest sufferers. ]t is given them to ' suffer with Christ ' as the highest honour, for it is the honom- and glory of scfung things as they are in the true and eternal light which no mere man can see and lix-e But such men must die and 1x3 buii.d in the grave of sorrow, crudflec' bv the world's sin. '' << V .* K.4^ il. i*?i T!i!3 oucasiun ui sorrow bo takrn away, fiiul wliy might not a Ht. I aul be a child agaia, and chase butterfl Hi jU I!! I '1 l«B ih M • gather flowers, and shout «'itb m'^ I - i: "«! ^84 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. joy among the heather ? It is a great gift to be able to be happy at all, and see, however dimly, into life and death. Those who imitate these holy men only in their sadness and sorrow, practise a vain guise, like a mask, and fancy the signs of grief or grief itself to be a virtue, and not a misfortune, and glorious only as a sign of an inner love — the light which casts the shadow. Those who seek happiness for its own sake and call it innocent, and think it lawful without the eternal good, are vain as larks who would live only for singing, and silly as flowers who see nothing in creation but their own colours, and perceive nothing but their own perfume. " A mountain once r buked a rivulet for always foaming and making a noise. The rivulet replied that the ocean often did the same. ' Yes,' said the mountain, 'but the ocean has its depths and calms: you have neither.' " "SUBJECTS FOR SONNETS SUGGESTED IN MY WALK. " Cuilchenna,, July 21. — The scenes of peace and beauty in Nature, re- sulting from the great cataclysms of the past ; paralleled by the peace in the world and in the soul from the anguish of suffering. 2. "The force of gravitation overcoming the storm and waves in carrying t^'ny bubbles out into the ebb tide ; paralleled by the power of faith in the unseen, in those otherwise weak, as a power striving against and conquering apparently irresistible opposition. 8. " The light, reflected by clouds, climbing a mountain side, illustrative of a pure mind rising over mighty heights of thought, and revealing their beauties." " I see a field, one half is tilled And may give something to the baker { With weeds the other holt is filled, Not worth a halfpenny per acre. •' I won't admit that field is good Because some good things grow within It— • I say 'tis ^ad for human food, And getting worse, too, every minute. •' The owner of it is so lazy, Yet most contented and pretentious, His sense of duty very hiizy, And yet so very conscientious. •'He savs 'he likes' one half to till, He ' likes ' what ^ivea him little trouble He likes to follow his own will, Ue likes in short to quirk and quibblat 4 ^^^^' . 385 "And now as I have told my mind About one-sided plough and harrow, Ihe lesson is,— I never find iMen very good and very narrow. *'%TJ"^i their lazy minds they till, The other half is always weedy : They worship idols, do their will, Are often wicked— always seedy f To the Rev. Dr. Watson :— » I "aysThalfan W Z 'thaMfi.l''™^"'' ^ " ""CZIL (like me) is dnmbJ-ffnuhoP^^^, ° " °""' '"" '"' ""^^ "k'tt "over " ' He who is choked can never be hnntrfirl > ir- j n " My head gets so sore when I try to write." To the Same :— naZ ^rcMefwStoorsUlf ^ ^'^\^f ^"i^^^*-^^ ^^"stian wegetLedomathomertoth««^,h! • .• ^^'^^^ for themselves. When able to work freelyTn Ind L tL chlTJ ^ u "^^t^' ^^ «^^^" ^« better Christianity in India L una,,P.
  • fessedly founded on the teaching of Christ and ffisL^^^^^^^ Tnd having a history since the day of Pentecost, can exist without a creed ex pressed or administered in some form or other. As far i I know th^ Church has always had some test for the doctrinal beliefs of its teachers' and members, or for their beliefs of the historic facts of the New Testament which constitute the basis of objective Christianity.* Moreover the theory held by us, as an Established Church, implies that the Statrou^ht t ^ri:rt'' %' '^' ^^''''T ^''''^''^ by the^Church whi h it propot* to estabhsh. Hence those doctrines when mutually agreed upon become the law at once of the Church and of the State. ^ ' ChurThf Sh«[frf^ *^'''' circumstances can be done by our National Lhurch? Shall we, for example, compel every minister under pain of dis- Xi T V "''""■'''^ charges of dishonesty, to accept every statment, every alleged fact, every argument for doctrine, and deduction from doctrine and proof of doctrine to be found in the Confession ? Is this what the Thurch really means before God when it uses the formula ? And do we practicallv wtr ^/fr'"^. I'T'"' '^''' *^^"S« «^ -h-h ChrisLns,The mS learned and the most holy, may and do differ in all Evangelica churcTes and those doctrines on which, as a whole, all are at one 1 Possiblv we mav obtain honest agreement in minute details, but I fear it will only "be on the part of the very few of the very ignorant, thus necessarily creating the dead unity of a churchyard, rather than the living unity of a Church and fostering a faith ike that of Romanists, which rests pr^actically upon the mere Church authority. It appears to me that the qiiantity or quaUty of any confession to those who thus receive it, is of no more importance than at'irtuf ZT'\'''T'\''''. "^^r^« '^'y --- itfburd::^^^^^^^ eat It But on the other hand is it possible without running still greater tHs'dt,-:or '"? . *' '""l '^'''\ P"'"^^^^^^^ *° -y offi.e-beirer iTake this distinction between Essentials and Non-Essentials? Then where is the line to be drawn ? And what value would there be in this case t any Confession at all? Mifrlif t,«+ +1,-. x j , . . !^ . '*'v iil Might ««•« «iA,.j.j til any — — o— ^^^ **^6 ^ost dangerous and Anti-Christian opmions be preached in our pulpits, and the result be that to include seen- tics we practically exclude true believers? It is so much easier for some to sneer at creeds altogether, and for others to raise a cry of horror as if Gods Word was attacked when a doubt regarding them is expressed than for both parties to carry the burthen of fair and fandid men, siiously con idermg the difficulty and suggesting sueh a solution of it aa ^ay satisfy our towards others!'' ""^ "'"''"^^''' '^^ ""' '"^^ of justice and charit^ tt^'^^m^ 17 ^^i'^l fl ^'^^ unfeigned humility and with a full sense of the difficulties which I have mdicated, whether a practical solution, if not a spiritual tact and Christian honour on the part of those who, with doubts and difficulties, desu-e to enter or to remain in the Church, and that from no selfish motive; and, on the other hand, by the exercise of those same gifts ami graces towards such individuals on the part of the Church? The minister can thus easily determine for himself how far he honestly agrees lit n 1 1 • John ii. 10, 11 : 1 John iv, 1 ; 2 Peter 1 Cor. XV. 8. !'i| „ : t il It: ;.■ '■ . '■ m ^mmmiiKmKi m 392 LIFU OF NORMAN MACLEOD. with the teaching and doctrine of the Church, or cordially accepts it as that which has been recognised as constituting the essentials of Christianity by the whole Catholic Church from the days of the Apostles ; while the Church, retaining her power to exercise discipline in every case of departure from the Confession, may also exercise due caution, charity, and forbearance." The Dean of Westminptor, who was present at several meetings ot the General Assembly, afterwards addressed the following letter to Dr. Macleod as ^loderator : — From Dean Stanley : — '• Deanery, Westminster. "My dear Modebator, " I was obliged to leave in such haste on Friday, as to have had no time to thank you for the great kindness of the past week. " It was a sincere grief and disappointment to me not to be able to bo present to-day to hear your address, and to-morrow to assist at your dinner. Nothing but the call of imperative engagements here would have prevented it. " Meanwhile I have had the very great pleasure and profit of having become acquainted, by personal intercourse, with your famous Assembly, and with the established organ of the Church of Scotland. " I cannot bring myself to believe that an institution so represented is doomed to fall, or that the Scottish people will consent to the overthrow of a body which gives such pledges of dignity and progress to the whole country. " If at your dinner you should think it worth while to refer to this humble expression of regard from a Presbyter of the sister Church, pray con- sider yourself af liberty to do so. "Yours sincerely, "A. P. Stanley." From his Journal : — "Aird's Bay House, 2nd August, 1869. " The Moderatorship was a time of great peace of heart. There was no contretemps of any kind. The house was very full, and every one was kind. Dean Stanley attended our Assembly, and visited the Free Church one also. He lived in the same hotel as we did. My address, which occupied two hours, was delivered to a crowded house, and was kindly accepted. It has since been published. " After the Assembly, on the following Sunday I went to Balmoral ; and at the end of June went with the Anti- Patronage Committee to London. The Scotch Members gave us a dinner. Had an interview with Gladstone, accompanied by twenty-seven M.P.'s. It was my own decided opinion that we should go to Government to do away with Patronage, If they refused to aid us, they could not accuse us of want of sympathy with the country ; and if they aided us, they could not destroy us. They could not well order new clothes for a man, and then kill him. "Some think that Gladstone, in his intei'view as reported, wished that in the memorial which he suggested, we should discuss the question of shanng endowments with other Presbyterian Churches. No one, at the time, as far as I know, believed this. Had I done so, although warned by several MODEBATOBSHIF AND PATRONAGE. 393:. JTANLEY. ihed that in influential Members of Parliament not to discuss anything at that interview and also feeling the extreme difficulty of my position as representing the Church, accompanied by a deputation with so many M.P.'s of different sen- timents, yet I would have refused, without consent of the Church, to enter, tarn and discuss the questi(Hi of Disestablishment, when we were com- missioned to consider Patronage only. But a leader in the Daily Review made me think that this meaning might be given to the words, and possibly truly, so I protested in a speech given in Glasgow, at my brother's induction dinner to Park Church, against what seemed to me the insulting idea of asking us to entertain such a question, although the Church might do it This called forth an abusive article." * Ecclesiastical policy was never congenial to him, and it is doubtful how far he was fitted to be in this sphere the leader of a party. He had strong convictions as to the principles by which a national Church should be guided, and drew a line, clear enough to his own mind between the generous comprehension which he advocated, and the latitudmananism which would override the limits of catholic belief. But he had neither patience nor taste for diplomacy, nor for the finesse required to "manage" a party. His special calUng, in the circum- stances in which the Church had been placed since 1843, had respect to her life and practical work; and he felt that in proportion as he helped to make her better he would also make her stronger. But, although he was not an ecclesiastical politician, he acquired an influence m the councils of the Church, and, what was still more important, an influence beyond her pale which was perhaps wider and more vital than that of any or all the leaders or parties.f On this subject Dean Stanley wrote : — "He was the chief ecclesiastic of the Scottish Church. No other man durmg the last thirty years in all spiritual ministrations so nearly filled the place of Chalmers; no other man has occupied so high and important a position m guidmg the ecclesiastical movements of his country since the death of Robertson, we might almost say, since the death of Carstares . . . Macleod represented Scottish Protestantism more than any other single man. Under and around him men would gather who would gather roiuid no one else. When he spoke it was felt to be the voice, the best voice of Scotland." • Considerable difference of opinion prevailed as to the exact words used by Mr. Glad- stone but that Dr. Macleod had quite apprehended their purport, may be gathered from thej-ollowing letter, written by Mr. Gladstone's Secretary to the Rev. Mr Dykes, "Mr. Gladstone has no report by him of his conversation with the deputation thaf; waited on hira in the summer, and is unable, without that assistance to make any posi- tive assertion on the subject ; but according to his best recollection, he gave no opinion 01 his own on the proposal of the deputation, but inquired if it had been considered what view was or would be taken of the proposal by the other Presbyterian communions in fecotlaml, and what effect its adoption would have on the relation between those com- munions (regard being had to their origin) and the Established Church." 1 1 am reminded, that since the Disruption there have been no parties in the Church. Ihis may be true in a technical sense, but practically, each Assembly has been divided on special questions ; and these divisions have usually been detenuinud by a general u i'm I m 1 it''. I ■m » '• - •. ^94 LIFE OF NORMAN MAC LEOU. k. II It was fortunate, therefore, for the movement for the Abolition of Patronage, that when it first took definite shape, the Church was represented by one wbose antecedents gave him claims to attention in professing to speak on grounds of public rather than sectarian policy. His own views on the question of Patronage were sufficiently defined. He never for a moment imagined that it was contrary to Scripture ; and, as actually exercised in tiie Church, he deemed there might be many advantages as well as disadvantages coiinected with ito continuance. It was, however, on grounds of Christian expediency, and in view of the relation of the Church to the country, that he now supported its abolition. Even as early as 1843 he had foreseen t>. j necessity of moving in this direction, and in his closing address as Moderator of the General Aasembl} he strongly urged tha motives by which the nat'oual Church ought, in his opinion, to be actuated. " By a liational Cluzrch, I mean one whoso clergy are secured a dbcent support out 0+' certain funds set apart by the State for their use; a Church whose doctrines have been accepted by the Sta^e, as those which are hence- forth io characterise the teaching of its ministers, and whose goverrxoient and discipline are in their several outlines defined, recognised, and protected by law. Such an organization exists, not for the sake of the clergy, but for the sake of the country. The people do not thua belong to the Church, but the Church to the people. Our stipends are not given for our own sake, but for theii's. The Church is their property, and all her ministrations are established for their advantage. If this be so, then a national Church can never, without forfeiting its true position, regard what are called its own interests as being 'n any way independent of the interests of the country, but rrtther as suborduiate to them. "^ A Christian body, self-supnor+ed, whose members are united by a mere ■'roluntary agreement, may exist for itseh' only, and teach as it pleas^es, being answerable aloae to conscience and to God. Not so a Church which has had conferred upon it the privileges and consequent responsibilities of an Establislnnent. Every question which comes before such a Church for de- cision must be judged oi with reference to the general interests of the nation. Accoi Jing to this principle, the views and wishes of Churches dis- senting from oiu' communion, on grounds which it may be possible for us to remove, and the beliofb even of thoso of our f'^llow countrymen who reject all Churches, demand from us earnest and anxious consideration. The olfice-bearers of the national Church are trustees of a propert)' which is thej''s only in »o far as they regard it as a common boon, which all citizens are entitled to share. How many of our divisions might have been prevent- ed, had all parties, acting ou this principle, carried in common the burden of the Church, and endeavoured to make her claims harmonious at once with the fijjliteous demands of the Stiite and of the couatry I How much might yet be dor.e il' we vould pass over all the narrow space bounded by Churtii party into the wider space limited only by Christian patriotism ! Wc afo thus bound, ar, lar as »?. con.Huitent \v\i\i our cxiistcnco m> a Cnristiua Church, to include within it a« many, and to exclude from it as few as pos- sible, of our countrvuK'n. And ii. order, I repeat, to do this, we ahould Abolition of Church was attention in irian policy. sufficiently contrary to eerned there nected with expediency, that he now foreseen t>. j I address as motives ley tuated. ired a dbcent se; a Church sh are hence- ) goverrxQient, sind protected ilerjiy, but for d Church, but >ur own sake, ietrationa are 1 Church call illed its own the country, rable party in that Churcli, ami in the whole north of Hcotland, whic-h has declared against union with the Voluntaries, and motirns over the ' sad defection ' of C*andli8h, Guthrie, and Buchanan, would gladly entertain the idea. The United Presbyterians, who in their political eagerness to join the Free Church, consented to let the principle of Establishment bo ' an open question' could hardly make its practice (a mei-c £ s. d. alTair) bo a ground for rupture, and thus, if there was an Endowed Free C'hurch in friendly co-operation — in unity, if not union — with those tender consciences which 'cannot touch the coined money,' we should have reform, in harmony with oui- past hiatoiV, and not Rovoiutiou. * i^iteech in Assenilily, 1870. M0DEBAT0B8HIP AND PATBONAGE. 897 "In spite of all that Voluntary Churches have done, never were endow- ments, in addition to free gifts, more needed, if we are to have, beyond the towns clergy who can hold their own among a cultivated and educated laity Ihere is a great fear on the part of some of our Broad Churchmen, least an immigration of barbarian races into the Establishment should extinguish a I the freedom and break up the Church by a series of massacres, or force other and counter migrations to Independent or Episcopal Churches. They teU me I should be the first man to be shot ! But I do not fear this In- cieed, I begin to fear much more lest liberty should degenerate into license • anyhow, 1 have confidence in truth, time, and public opinion. ' I write to you without reserve. I believe in your good-wili to the Church, your love to your country. « Who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this V " To Dr. Chaeteris :— "There would be, on the one hand, great danger to fair and honest free- dom by union at preseat with the Free Church. We should be terribly tried by a demon of Dogma, wandering in dry places, and no real man dar- mg to pass rhat way. Even John Calvin would be strangled. Hymns t Organs! Simpler Creed! Simpler formula! Pfui! All gone, and the Church would soon follow. "I see no chance of any legislation by which their idea of spiritual inde- pendence can be made possible. Do you? And if possible, desirable. Do " But, on the other hand, I hold an endowed Church, according to all experience, to be almost essential to our possessing men of culture, and such are a great gift from God. We may do without them, but we shall do im- thrChur h"^'' "^''^ *^'^"'' ^^'^ *''"'' ^^""^^ **" "'^^°''' ^'^'" *^® strengthening of And again, bad as high and dry, tight-laced, hard, straight-line, orthodoxy IS, there is something inconceivably worse, and that is cold, heartless, breath- less speculative unbelief. If I foar the Presbyterian Church of Scotland be- ing trozen by orthodoxy into fixed and dead forms as respects thought, I fear a million times more her ministers and people being frozen into eternal Jumps of ice. "Lastly if our Church in Scotland is to do the utmost possible work as a Church for Scotland, it must be by method, by the saving of waste power \vJ»other of men or money, and by gaining more moral and spiritual i)ower by means of fewer temi)tations to malice, e..vy, pride, selfish ambition, Ac, and by affording greater inducements and opportunities to cultivate common sympathies and common affections in praying, preaching, an.l woikiuLr to- gether in advancing our Lord'd kingdom. All this points to union." From his Jooenal:— "Aird's B\y, Loch Etivk, 1869. " At the end of Juno, I wont with Watson and Strahau to Berlin. J fixed the missionaries to the Aborigines of India. Wo left Clasgow on Tuesday. ' — " ^' ' -''rtj trt-rn.. i i!;i!i :!, liiuHt uncoiTiTortable .louriioy, and was very wearied. I returuod by Hamburgh; since that I have boon here." 1 "fT" 896 LIFS OF ::OBMAN MACLEOD. Ill ., To Canon Kinbslby:— "Aird's Bay House, Jvly 24, 1869. " Your note about Captain A — came when I was occupying the Chair ol the General Assembly. After that I had to go to Balmoml ; then London; then Berlin ; all on public business. Now I am trying to rest beneath the shadow of Cruachan, and to pump out the letters which have nearly drowned me. " What a glorious country this is ! I think Loch Etive the finest loch in the Highlands. It worms its way like Olaf Tryggveson's snake-boat far up among silent hills for thirty miles, with branching glens going nowhere, here and there a hut like a boulder, ending with the shepherd's of Etive Glen. " It is worth coming all this way to row up the Loch, for there is no road on either side, and its shores are unpolluted. No Murray knoweth them. The trail of the old clans has not been obliterated by foot of civilised man. An old seal raised his head and wondered if I was going to join Prince Charlie. The sheep stare at me. The hills seem to dress themselves in their best robes and colours to receive strangers. " Well, Benares and Bunawe, Lucknow and Lome are queer contrasts ! *• What a glory before me is that Cruachan ! For a week after arriving I was so fagged and out of sorts that Nature touched me only on the outside. My soul seemed nature-proof. It begins now to receive some of its beauty; and next to the Bible I find Nature the holiest teacher. " It is fortunate for me that you will be unable to read this." From his Jouekal : — " 2Qth August, 1869. — I leave in an hour for Inverie, Mr. Baird's place in the north. " I have had a wonderful time of liappiness with all my dear children, all BO well and joyous ; one of those many times of heaven's sunshine on earth we have had together, but wliich cannot, in the transition period of educa- tion by trial, be rejjeated often. "I preached < \-ory Sunday, except the one I was in Glasgow. I have written two ' Peeps' — Madras and Calcutta; also a long article in Record on the Aborigines, and at least two hundred letters. We Iiave had little trips — on Loche Awe and Loch Etive — once with dear Shairp. " I have been made Dean of the Thistle." His former assistant and minister of his Mission Church, the Kev. Mr. Young, of Ellon, gives the following reminiscence of an evening spent at Aird's Bay : — " The Doctor had retired early in the day into a quiet room for work, but tw the day wore on, and he heard us at croqiu't, he left his letters and India Mission work and joined us for a while. He likes this game, for it brings him into the open air and the socii'ty of his cliildii'ii, uiid so enthusiastic does he get that ho afl'ects even to loose his temper as the jHay goes against his side. It was, however, only a bii(»f interlude of relaxation, for he wius goon at his writinsr ai^ain, ami st-arcely emerged till late in the evening. Wo had gathered in the drawitig-room, and the music had just commenced, when a ta|) on the window oiitsiclt* summoned nie to join him. He is tired after MODERATOBSHIP AND PATRONAGE. ZW his day'fl T.ork, and sits smoking under a tree. The solemn calm and beauty of the landscape, seen in the fasl^fading light, have sueeested Tmu\i\^^Tl profound thought, which he wishes toirfm^nical Tsh almos peec^^ less, for he discourses most marvellously about God's mere riud tW varied effects on the grateful and ungrateL There is a nervous eHuenc^ m his words, and although it is very dark, I know that his whole frame heaves with emotion, as he pictures the hard struggle which the ChSn haa m acquiescing in the olivine will when that will requires the surrender of some choice blessing This leads to a touching autliographicalXtch in which he tells of the deep waters he had some years before paSthroul' during the time Mrs. Macleod was in fever, /never wrsrSiprS^^^^^^^ by that conversation. The sacred quiet of the late evening, Xearnest rC7 *^'Jr^r' "^^ f^ *^""^"^ ^^*"^^ «f ^^^ theme powerfuUy affected me. When he ended, we wiped the tears from our eyes, and joined the ev"^;;^ '''' drawing-room, and enjoyed music and singhig the S of From his Journal : — " December Zlst, 1869.-In a few hours the century will have lived its threescore and ten years ! I question if since time began, with the excep tion of three or four great eras, such as the calling of Abraham, the Exodus the birth of Christ, the Reformation, the invention of printing, or it may be, the breaking up of the Roman Empire, the birth of Mahomet, or Jf Buddah— such an influential period has existed. Tlie invention of the steam-engine, the discovery of gas, telegi-aph, chloroform; with the freedom ol slaves the British acquisition of India, the opening up of the world to the gospel the translations of the Scriptures, will make ft firever memorable It has been a happy year to myself, and some events in it have been "to me interesting personally. "I have collected some thousands for Retiring Allowance Fund- address- ed very many meetings on Missions; founded and collected for Abori.nnes Mission; got free site for new Mission Church at Bluevale; aided in aiTane ing plan for ten new churches. Written eleven articles for Good Words "January mo -We had our old gatliering on the first of the year' at Shandon. My beloved mother, alive and hearty, at the head of our table ' i^uch mercies are awful ! And very rare it is in a man of iifty-eiffht to have such a mother— so grand and good, so full of love anal synn.athy-ahnost painful from its intensity— to be one with liiir from his infancy ! ". . . . God Almighty, imbue us all with Thy charity! the Ioulw I live the less do I desire to judge any man. Thore is no one but God can decide as to any man's character. This is a r)ro(luct of so many causes- temperament, the society into which he has been est, intollectu.d capacity the teaching ho haa received, whether from the books ho has read the clergy-perhaps bigots, ignorant men, superstit > , logmatfsts, mere talk- ers— ho has heard, and a thousand circumstances- that wo daro not con (lemn the man, though from the light God has given us wo may say, readth, unity^ and depth I despise and abhor that self-indulgence of whim, and measur To Mrs. MACLEOD :— . " Balmoeal, May, 1870. " Yesterday was a day of battle and of triumph and no mistake for my ?wT. Lnf r^^ • "^T'l- . ^i™"S^ '^' ^S""''^^'' «f *hat wretched ' BooW I was kept hanging about the Perth platform from 12 noon-day, till 1 1.45 p m in J «L i ^'"'^ "^""^ ?'H°' '""^^^^S' y^^^^g' smoking, groaning, smil- Lere I trr M *''^^. ^''^'^ Aberdeen at 3 a.m. while the Queen is ArrivJhtt « ^''''"W"' T"^^' ^""' ^^ ^"^^^^^- Had to hire another. Amved here at 6 am Have slept since, and breakfasted in my own room Seen no one. Tired, but have been worse. " loom. "On opening my bag found hair-brushes and comb left behind! Of course. Oh these wee deevils !" "oumu ui To Rev. A. Clerk, LL.D.:— M IT^* T^^ f '^°f ^ f Campbeltown-boys first and lads afterwards-up o college days has had a deep effect on me. I am amazed as I think of the leckless and affectionate aba7idon with which I threw myself into it ! Mv 111 my 'iLT""""" ^'''^' ^'" '*' "''''^^' ^^'^ '""^ '^''^ *° ^^ ^°^« «r less To the Same on the death of a very dear son :— "Glasgow, 1870. von' "nli * "t/ *.'"^*7«",*^^d Jessie realise the truth of Adie's life and love to S V nf 1, • """^f ^'f .r^'^embei-s, and as he does he loves. I always mn^w: r ''""f ''''? ^y ^'! numerous relations, grandfathers and grand- mothers aunts and uncles, and his little brother g?own up and feeling so gieat faith m the hope of meeting you all. and in vou all nhsnivcr Go^ - eartli as the highest of all I preached lately on death in the light "of Christ coming for us and taking us to Himself, and on heaven as a place prepared i r iil ¥. i^mmm | [ w» HiW;i^ J- a i. t »BI 406 IIFD OF NORM AN MACLEOD. for us, i.e., adapted in every detail to the feelings, associations, &c., of human beings, young and old, cultivated and ignorant. All this is necessarily bound up with the fact that He who was a child, as well as a man, who lived among and loved such persons as ourselves, must build, furnish, and adorn the house in a way suitable to all the members of His own family— the dear bairns most of all, for them He took to His own heai-t." His summer quarters were fixed for this season at Java Lodge, in the Island of Mull, not far from the celebrated ruins of Duart Castle. The view from the coast was superb, including, what was to him of unfading interest— the hills of Morven and distant Fiunary, the scene of his earliest and happiest associations. iVom his Jouenal:— r , i-t -.o^ft ••Java Lodge, July 17, 1870. "The Assembly— for I must go back in my brief record of events- passed off well. Its characteristic was its treatment of questions chiefly bearing on the practical life of the Church. The Patronage question, though carried by a large majority, did not excite much enthusiasm; first, because there was no great hope of Government taking it up unless a strong political pressui-e was brought to bear upon it — this was not likely from the influence of political Dissenters on the elections in Scotland;— and, secondly, should it be carried, we felt no great security for better ministers being appointed than now, when the people have it practically all their own way, checked b" Patronage. But the resolution of the Assembly put us in a better position with the country. Dr. Cook, almost the only statesman we have, acted a very unselfish and patriotic part, seeking the good of the Church, and not a party triumph. "I spoke on Patronage, Christian Life, Home Missions, and India. I published my sermon given at the opening of the Assembly. But how can I publish as I preach 1 "I have this moment heard that France has declared war against Prussia. It is awful to think of the thousands who are on this quiet Sunday, here all peace, marching to wounds and death. The Lord Jesus is over all ! This is an end of the Napoleon dynasty, and an end of Rome for the Pope! So much for the dogma of the Infallibility. "The Emperor is mad ! He must fail. I argue that the French dare not cross the Rhine at Strasburg, as the Prussians will advance from Cob- lentz and Maintz— these being magnificent bases of operation— and they will thus outflank the French, and compel them to keep to Metz as their centre. They are outnumbered, and must fail. " August 10.— Victory, victory for Prussia ! (Woerth). We shall have the grand battle east of Mot/. If the French gain, by dividing the Prussians, what then? It would be b;v+- moToentary. To cross the Rhine is not im- possible. But the French ^ .? o'>. '^numbered, and will receive a terrible smash ! They will fall b. 'i. oo dicate, and in three weeks l"% u Provisional Government. Ai; will be confusion. The Lord reigns i'ans Paris will revolt, Napoleon will ab- h his family, in London. There will bo a Sunday, 27^/i.™- What a gionGu; day! I nrC(ic}ic(i ^ts IVTisHions. XliGSO days of preaching make the little Highland churches the monuments to me MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. 407 tribes who from afar looked on the encampment of Israel The sea crSn with sparkling waves ; the sky intensely blue, in great spaces between S masses of cumuh clouds, with some more sombre; the distant hills we ?hZr>? -'VT' ^ r 'f^ ^^^■'"^'^ "-y^*^"^"^ ^ir ^ ^^^d then, the ligSs ZZ them! bright rays lighting up, below, yellow cornfields, and green pastures ten miles off and above, sometimes a bare scicvr or deep cS or broad f?nTnA^''^'T^*i Ijeavy dark shadows slowly pursuingVe sunH^ht over hill and dale. I boheld Morven along with Aunt Jane. We cazed to gether on he distant church, beside which as holy a family lie inteS as I have ever known I saw the trees which mark Samuel Camln's house where T .n,n each happy years, and received an education, the education ofmy beloved ones m Fiunary included, such as has mouded ^ whole hfe. I enjoyed one of those seasons of intense and rare blessing whJn tears come we cannot tell why. except from a joy that rises in silent pmver Sid praise to the Creator and Redeemer. ^^ " "Dear D^ Craik is dead, and his funeral sermon has this day been preached. His illness and death-how real have both been to me - He was I mourHS fofs ''""^"*^ '" ''' ''''''''''' ^"' ^ '^''' ^^^^^ '^^^l -d "Blessed be God for the gathering in and eternal union of His people Ikrii^s''' TW r^y '^l^'"^" P^^^°^^' ^^'^ ^" '^'^ sinless pecu! I arities They therefore remember us, and love us more than ever Are they interested m us ! perhaps concerned about us? Why not - The iov h!i'lJ '"'?'^ •' "°* * selfish joy. I would despise the saint who enjoyed himself ma glorious mansion singing psalms, and who did not wish liiLjoy disturbed by sharing Christ's noble and grand care about the world "'so long as man, and my dear ones are in 'the current of the heady fi4t 'I don't wish to be ignorant of them on the ground that it would Sve me min and mar my joy ! I prefer any pain to such joy ! I cannot think^poss ible that my heaven there shall be different from my heaven he"-^ Xh consists m sympathy with Christ. If He has a noble anxiety, Hmitldbv rgim 'fHrsT^ft,"^""^ 'S ^^T '^y'""' if human sin iJ'aSiVtJ to Him if His life there as well as here is by faith in the Father • if He watches for the ead, and feels human sin and sorrow, and rSo ces in the X£ Ml?H-'"'"^rr' \ "^■^"«"' y^* ^-^ h- deep p^e n SoS why should not His people have the joy of sharing this Godlike burthen of struggling humanity? 'Thencometh the end.' But the end is not yet The hnal day of judgment may be millions of years hence. Unti then^he whole Church may have its education of labour and teaching contii^^edln mighty ventures of self-sacrifice, and in ten thousand ways p?t to tLeproof arth ThrmFZ'i.fr ''t"*' '' faith, self-denial, LJe, acquireTon earth. ^ 1 his might imply suffering; why not? Many picture a heave which is a reflection of their own selfish nature. ' Don't trouble us ' 'Tell t:r?Wt?:it-'!r "^ r''^^*-^^^^-^ ^^•°^^'' 'WhaUrtiieeJrth 10 us f It is past ; give us fine music, fipo sfenoftr o^j |„* xu- _^„xi, A„n I write it ^-g„ to the devil ! • That is „ol my h ^v^! I Uh to^*~ I «* to feel, I wish to share Christ's sympathies, untU the end comes ' ' , hi 408 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. _ " The idea that Dr. Craik no longer cares about Missions to India, would give me a poor idea of a heaven of sympathy with Jesus Christ/' To lira. Drummond, Megginch Castle:— "Isj.E OF MxTLL, 21th August, 1370. " I am in retieat, banished to a spot beyond space, and where time merges into eternity. Post? are rare. Their news is post wor^ewi— dead— belong- ing to a past world histc.y ! Your kind note arrived here long after Deaa Stanley had become Archbishop, and the Established Church destroyed. To have met him in your house would have been n true delight to me, but I was and am still in Mull, and where Mull is, no cne knows ex-ept Sir Roderick Murchison, who knows everything, and he only guesses about it ; so I can only express ray great regret at having been so far away, and thus deprived of such good company. There wap a foolish report spread here this morning about a chance whaler, that a war had broken out in Europe, that the French had taken Berlin, and, after landing at Aberdeen, were marching on Glasgow. If this is true, I won't leave Mall until peace is proclaimed ; but if the news proves a cam/rd, as I think quite possible, I shall return this week to Glasgow, which I hope to reach six weeks after the world, according to John Gumming, is consumed ! " To the Rev. Thomas Young :— "August, 1870. " As to sudden death I never could pray to be delivered from it, but only to be ready for it. God alone who knows our frame and temperament, knows l)y what drath we can best glorify Him, Sudden death may to niany be a great mercy." To A. Strahan, Esq':- " Java Lodge, Augutt, 1870. " What an evening of glory ! The lights, the hills, the castled promontory are as of old, and years too have fled, and Ossian is old also. " What a dinner awaited you ! Flags flying, chickens delicate as sonnets of Miss , vegetables as many as the articles on , and far more digestible. Champagne with a brilliancy and bouquet that rivalled the papers of the editor, rice pudding as pure and wholesome as 's sermons. While every hill looked down, and every coney opened its eyes, and the fish swam and the ocenn murmured, and the red deer got white, all with excitement to see— what 1 Your arrival that arrived not Oh, it was sad, sad !" From his Journal : — " War ! How strange that war has formed the subject of our oldest poems, paintings, nntl luHtorios, that it is at this moment as terrible as ever ! What does it mean i How can wo account for its existence, its appnreiit necessity in the kingdom of God 1 It does not imply any personal hnle whatever, no mon^ than the execution of a malefactor docs cruelty and love of blood. The bravest soldier is associated witli the gentleman, and Inqhest chivalry. It seems to me that lawful war, as distinct from war of pasHiou, originates in what appears to be a social law. That as God wishes mankind August, 1370. MOBEBATORmiP AND PATRONAGE, m in tlSre t?^^^ ''^'"T '' T^'''> ^^^ ^« ^« -^^^^o^ ought to exist Jp J 1 r T ^^ government, and as government implies power to wo not whether Louis Napoleon is to be Emneror hnf xvhn+i,^."; +1, ^ "^^!""^^ Tev.tonio race is to te Xo„ge»t inEurope aCl tie worii"*" *" ^"■' ■"• AS to .he inventions for mmderinff nennlp ' fl„-a ;» „ii about the same strength, the less lik-^ v is war AnT^ f ' ^'. "''^'^ .nd .fr' *"* ^''^ ^''''" ^' ^"* «^lfi«^' induloonce at any n ■ '; Libertv and self-government at any-prico I Life is of no value wUho^ut freedom" ^ To A. Strahan, Esq. :— make about those two when in lo-e !" ii""»iage ? What a fuss to To A, STRAnAN, Esq :— « n??"* ?— i""'^^! "^y ^if^ in PcrtLshiro, doad beat. .. ^c^ofit-r 4.— Rested my chariot-whods ami ,/roased tho^v Irma^!^^ o.-Eelurned to Glasgow, and answered twenty letters • wvotP '^Oc^tl '"''.^"'^•'''; T! ^*">'"'*'^ ' '"^'IP'-yer-moetinginthre'vcrinK October G.~Conmmnded by the Prince of Wales, and left at neven a m if it! ■SI i?l,.. [ 410 LIFE OF NOliMAN MACLEOD. for Dunrobin, 220 miles off. Dined at hulf-past nine, left the drawing-room at half-past one, a.m., aid smoking-room at half-past three. Left per train at six, A.M., and never halted five minutes, being past time, until I reached Glasgow at half-past six, p.m. " October 7. — A weary Saturday, te prepare two new sermons for Sunday araid.st manifold interruptions. " October 8. — Preached twice. " October 9. — Again dead beat, and went to see my old mother the first time for six weeks. " October 10. — Returned^ and received a letter from a patient friend asking. ' Why tarry thy chariot-wheels 1' ! ! ! I " Bother the chariot-wheels ! " I am as nervous as an old Cit." To A. Stuahan, Esq :— " I am more anxious about Good Wordj than perhaps even you are. It is one of my heaviest hourly worries, how little I have been able to do it. As a public man I am worked from 6 a.m. till 10 p.m., and if a man must be occupied twenty-four hours in killing rats or planting carrots it is prac- tically the same to him, as far as time is concerned, as if he were attackine Paris." To his Eldest Son :— *•!«« Decemher^ 1870 " I was very glad, my boy, to hear from you, and that you have told me so well and fully all you are about. I am quite satisfied with everything, and pray God that you may bo able to form those habits of study and of mastering difficulties, and of persevering in what may be uncongenial but necessary for you, all of which is of such importance. You are, in fact, now moulding your whole future life. May it be worthy ! Never, never forget your daily dependence on God and His interest in you. The Stock- port panic might have had a fearful ending, but it was stopped in time — 3,000, tlireo stories up, and but cue stair of outlet, with the panic of fire ! * " I am giving the last corrections to the sermon on war. When you read it, it will appear vei-y simple to you, and easily written. But it may encourage you to know that this is the seventh time, at least, I have cor- rected it, and each time just as fully as the previous one. So difficult do I find it to write with tolerable accuracy. Begin soon ! " To Mrs. Warrick, New York. "Olasgow, December I5th, 1870 " I heard all about your great sorrow, all those pleasing yet harrowing details which make one realise the whole scene. Such an aftliction is to us a profound mystery. This seems to mo the lesson tauglit by the Book of Job, for Job never found out in this world why ho had boon afflicted, although he knew that it was not because of his individual sins (and he was light), but in order to bring out the reality of his life in God ; yet he * Kr VvivVr. to ."t panic which took ylacc ■vvhilc hu was prr.-irrring at Stoekpoic on bdhaU ot' his Sunday School Uaiou, wheu his presence of miud and calmuesa did umch to pre serve oixler. wing-room b per train I reached or Sunday ir the first 3nt friend a are. It le to do it. man must it is prac- attacking MODERATOmmP AND FATBONAGE. 4ii was left in darkness, and although sons and daughters were given him, the old dear ones were seen no more. And there are like times of darkness in Tarfarm^TSTf^'^^i^^T ^^V« ^^S*^*' ^"^ ^^^ ^« -«* «"''^ bare arm of God for strength, and on the heart of God for peace. Yet we can never be in such pitch darkness as Job was, now that we see God's own n}Zf^^^ ^ ^ "^-n ""^ '°'''°'^' ' ^^^ ^ ^im have the assurance given us ot a Fatlxer who will ever act as a Father even in sending grief who never acts ai-bitran y, but who appeals to the heart of the most tende'r and loving pai^nt to judge from his own traest affection towards his children, as to what He who xs perfect love, feels towards themselves. Faith in this Uod IS our only refuge and strength in times of dark and mysterious sorrow 1 am utterly powerless to help at Chicago. I never directly or inairectly asked a favour small or great from court or government, aad never wUl. I am tongue-tied and hand-tied; having so much intercourse witli t»oth, this seems strange, but it is a fact." i ■iiti !>er, 1870 '^e told me irerything, ly and of genial but , in fact, '^er, never he Stock- in time — ! of fire ! • ^i^hen you ut it may have cor- [icult do I \th, 1870 laiTowing n is to us I Book of afflicted, (and he 1 ; yet he t on bditai/ uch to pre I f< CHAPTER XXIII. 1871—72. ''pHE last years of his life were marked by the manner in which both X. his character and convictions ripened. There was no diminu- tion of the wealth of his humour, and his enjoyment of outward things was keen and fresh, though tinged with a certain pensive and recurrent sadness. But as his health became more broken, the sense of approaching age, the brevity of the time given him to work seemed continually present, and lent an increased earnestness and thoughtful care to the fulfilment of the most commonplace duty. He spoke and acted as one who knew " the time was short." His health was gradually but decidedly becoming infirm. In the spring of 1871 he had so severe an attack of his old enemy that he was for some time confined to bed, and his strength was so much impaired that his brother, Professor Macleod, forbade his undertaking any engagements which implied fatigue. At the end of April, on Sir William Jenner's advice, he went to Ems, and for a time found much benefit from rest and from the waters of the famous Brunnen. In summer he and his family spent their holiday at Geddes, the early home of Mrs. Macleod, and doubly precious to him as associated with many memories of John Mackintosh. It was a happy time, and he regained so much of his old health and spirits, that on the return of the family to Glasgow he was able to enter with considerable vigour on his winter's work. There were some things which specially coloured his later thoughts. He was deeply moved by the condition of religious belief in academic and literary circles. As ho had opportunities possessed by few clergy- men, of becoming acquainted with current opinion, not mcioly from books, but by intercourse with representative men, his interest in the religious difficulties of many scholars and thinkers was proportionately keen. Ilis anxieties regarding such matters frequently found vent in lumentations over the ignorance or indifference of ecclesiastics in Scotland as to all questions except the most trivial. "They are squabbling about the United Presbyterian, Free Church, or Jlstablished when the world is asking whether Christ is risen from the dead !" India and the condition of the heathen were bubjecLs vviiiuh he wjis never weary of pondering by himself, or of discussing with his friendsi. 1871-72. i: i 415 The impression his Eastern iournev had TT,«rl« «., t,- and showed itself latterly in an iSsant s^dv n?,i^™ 7.' P'^*^"^*^' the spectacle of so many millinnr n?^ .u^ ''^ *^^ P'^^^^^^^ which heathendom suTOteT He h«d If i i^'?^''', ^^^ ^^^^^^s ^^^^S in eye of a dogmalswl measures all't '"^ «^ese millions with the scholastic theory. He dS not ask ^nw 7" ^l ^^I ^'"^^ '^^^'^'^' theological tenet%ut rather "maLre thes^^^^^^^^ f'''^ '' «^»^« mng God ?" He had tried to undersTand he^^^^^^^ the prejudices, difficulties aqr^i-rafin^o f Ti, tt- , "^°°^ affinities, compre^ndasfaras posskea^^^^^^^^ °^^"^' ^"^ *« character of God as vTeJedt^kltf ^^T ^"^ '^"^^'^^ in the referred every doub?Ll question ?nHu'"^ ^' instinctively now think it woufd be llTe ctisfso to acU "'0^''^ '"'"t'- '?' ^'^^ God do you think it would be ifke ^^^ ^ ttl^l^''' ^r^ '^ questions, as many of his hearers tpL^ w ;f 1 • 7:'^^^^' ^'^^^ many an argument when Si '^"^f"^^^^' '^ was his habit to clinch reliance on the righteousness and IZ '''' }VT ^° "^^" ''^'^d firm Uanthen beyondll," grave !™ ' ™''""'""S ""^ '="'"'"»■' °f «"' h«iop|"rtutit!;Th™°U':;Gtl°r^^^ "T >'"■■■' °f.-h„v„ „ov«r Imvo never loava of Ztrutl,„^i J" '''''■' *°"' "■'' ""l^ (il«t-,vl,„ tlio,«l,t8 of salvation 1 Of tW«„tl!, "".'»■» ""'T"™!'!" Cron, ai: ou, «onri^„ .:^rri;xi-''-i„:-;;:i^ —^ I* I ! 414 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. mind can conceive. In addition to these, there are millions in Christendoij^ who, from the circumstances of their birth and up-bringing, are as practic- ally ignorant, who never had the means of making any conscious choice between the claims of God on their affection and obedience, and the demands of sin and of every evil passion — to whose thoughts it would make no practical difference if all we know, love, and rejoice in regarding God was never heard or known : no more than the extinction of the sun would make any practical difference to a blind man's eye. Such a question is tremen- dous, painful, oppressive, often agonising — even when feebly understood. We are disposed, from our utter inability to take in its momentous impor- tance, to make a positive effort to put it away. Such a fact as thousands of millions of human beings existing now, and existing for eternity, some- lohere, makes hardly an impression upon our minds. We feel, in trying to realise it, as if the finite tried to comprehend the infinite, and so we dismiss the whole question. But when the complex idea is resolved into its de- tails ; when we think of one human being, with all our own powers and ca;pacities for thinking, understanding, remembering, anticipating, hoping, fearing, rejoicing, suflering, being holy as a saint or wicked as a devil ; a being made after God's image, and therefore so far divine ; an object of more interest and importance to God his Maker than the material universe ; and such a being growing up from infancy with as distinct and individual a history as ourselves, a being, too, who is for ever responsible, and can for ever please God and meet His wishes, or the reverse — then do we in some degree feel that any question affecting him is not a question regarding a mere thing, however interesting, like the preservation or destruction of a gi-eat picture, a grand column, or stately palace, but regarding a person, an immortal being, the noblest specimen of the art of God, the greatest build- ing of His hands, and intended to be a temple of the Holy Ghost. But much more does our interest increase if we are personally acquainted with such a being ; if we have come into contact with him so as to realise fully our common humanity, and to sympathize with his bodily sufferings or mental sorrows. Yet what would our interest be if this person were a father, or mother, or child, or our individual selves ! We could not then think of such an one's fate for ever, as we would that of a stone which, cast into the great deep, sinks and passes at once out of sight and out of memory. But what this unit is to us, each unit of the whole mass of humanity, from Adam to the thousands who have been born and died since we entered church, is inconceivably mc.^e to God. Not one is lost to his sight, not one ever becomes to Him of less importance as an immortal being ; and just as wo realise this, the question will press itself with increasing force on us, what is to become of them 1 Wo cannot get quit of it. We may do so in regard to the race, but we cannot in regard to those units of which the race is composed, and miiny a perplexed mind, and many a weary, anxious heart yearns for an answer. " Many object to bring such questions into the pulpit at all. Is there not, it is apked, enougli that is clear, sinqilo, and of infinite importance, sufficient to occupy with profit the short time allotted on the Lord's-day for public instruction, and for the conviction and conversion of sinners now, without putting difficulties into people's minds, or """' 1— i-^^ ,.,i„-«i, u limy bo iiupuswiblo to dispel? I deej)ly sviiipai raising doubts which it 1871—72. 415 w hole teaching testifies to the sincerity of mv svmtiathv +n +T,. of my desire that it should be simnlfl La ZLf^ ^^ 7' ^ *^® eaitiestness possible all doubtful di^utati 7 ^^o '"r^""^^^^^^^^^^ t^^^^- bring sou s to God And T ],r,nJ^.u 1.L constantly at one thmg-to can be dealt with n a sermon Cl^^ 'T'^^'^")^ ^^J «uch questions ing to church to a "id Zrhein^s ggetd XellT:'^ ^1 '^''' ^°; of active thought, such as has not%x?S lee tL Tef„' n^^^^^ ^^^^ logical questions on every truth of ChristianTty are wth n th?l 1^\''' years, foiled upon men's notice in every peXdioal down to t^f . ^ papers. Men cannot avoid them, but they Lrivoid rZ-I T ^'V They have sympathies with struggles again tfvTldee^s or SitTrf^; with such doubts as bewildered the min^ nf Qf rfl ^^^ ^F "^ *^' but not believe in the ,-e.nn.ctio.."t'^ SrWi^tbf tTe'^rtrorSat™ been blessed with such a disiwsitinn nv Ua.L i "" ,^"^^''7 ^t trod, have stances, whether of early uSin^l^oTofTosn^^^^^ ''''} '''''''^^ bled them to grow up in the nV.rwL f i ^f'K J^^^^^^mg, as have ena- It. he were a machine, but what he believes Ld feels at one wh^ bL ' ? his way through difficulties like otl.ers; if he has felt " thT b^n 1 7?!^ mystery r if he can put them in the wly of getting the t^h f Tn "I \" .pen.,,ie .e> ^tra^^^^^^^^ wLatever deliverance it n,ay afl^itSrS' „ irSteHiSiS held by increasmg nnmbere of the beat men in this and othe a»es of .1 ^ Chmch), let us understand at least what it means. iTdCnit mean t f .w^i^r^o'^tr Xaf r ^z r J that"" '-'^^f- «.ved here or afterwards in a wayTsenSl? diSn't" IrthX Thi J he IS saved now, except it may be by severer chastisement and a mi™ hying disciphno. It assumes that there is a cn„„„.ti„,, ..™v„.p."'°'! eu.rnal », the law or character of God, between'sin'and srwtmfTutrilig i \' 416 LIFE OF NOBMAN MACLEOD. m This must show itself in the want of peace, joy, hope, and all that glory of character of which man was created, and in the ravages of spiritual disease, in deformity of soul, in blindness, deafness, and moral decrepitude. Conse- quently, come when it may, in this world or the next ; or how it may, by teaching or by chastisement ; or when it may, in three score and ten years or in hundreds of years, there must be a conviction of sin as sin, a repent- ance towards God, a seeing His love, and a choice of Himself as God, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, before salvation is possible. " . . . But it is asked what there is in Scripture to forbid the belief which a sense of God's love of righteousness in them craves for, that, may be, the term of education with millions of the heathen, and of the ignorant, who have been neglected by selfish men, may not terminate with three score and ten years ? It is not said that it must be so, but it is alleged that, for aught we know, it may be so. We are reminded that each person as he dies lives on — seen and known by God, and is the object of His interest somewhere — that wherever he is, he is as responsible there as here ; and it is asked whether that, to us unseen, — but to them most real, state of being, — as real as if it existed in a material world like this, — is necessarily an abode of hopeless unmitigated woe for such persons as I have alluded to ; whether God's infinite resources are at an end in regard to them, and whether truth may not be made known there which was never heard here — a God revealed who was unknown here, a Saviour proclaimed with a fulness, tenderness, love, and all sufficiency, who has never once preached to them here ; and whether, as the result of this, the kingdom of God may not yet come in a way that we never dreamt of — and, alas ! never in our wretched and degraded feebleness and unbelief ever laboured for ? " Many reject this thought. I remember the time when ministers could entertain the idea of God condemning an infant to eternal misery from its connection with Adam — an opinion which is as horrible as any occurring in Brahminism. " Who would not wish the hope, whose character I have sketched, to be true 1 Who would not feel a great relief if they only saw that it may be true ? . I have some sympathy with the fanatic Communist who calmly stands to be shot, shouting, ' Let me perish, if humanity is saved ! ' I may not see how, without ftiith in God the Father, or in Christ the Brother, lie can obtain any true idea of humanity as a unity, or any real love to it ; but still there is something grand in such an idea rising higher than his personal love of life. But where is there similar grandeur in him v/ho, pro- fessing to have this faith, has not only lost all hope of humanity as a whole, but rests contented in his hopelessness ; who seems to think that any such hope of the probable salvation of others through Jesus perils his own, and looks with nervous fear and jealousy at the thought of any future opening of the door of the awful prison-house to deliver a penitent soul, who never in life had heard of Christ, as if this made it possible that a door might b« opened for his own fall ; who, in spite of all his defects, all his sins, all his greed, all his heartlessness, all his selfishness, has hope through the long Buffering, forbearance, and patience of God, and who yet feels indifferent or indignant at the thought of there being i)ossibly ways and means for this same God acting in mercy to millions of miserable prodigals who never had His light — a man who cries out, not liko the Communist, ' Perish myself, but live humanity,' but, * Perish humanity, if I live myself! ' 1871—72. 417 IB co^"rl%Xiir' hIT-'" t™-' '>y ft" °- a^rtion thai .t Chmtian teaS lid ii who S 2 ""'^ °' *-' ^"'^ «f G"i But Oeseended into .eu/^kZ^^^oi S'"SrS.;?s*Sr*' .'^^ yo Dr. MACLEOD Campbell :— "T4-„ 1 • 1 /. "-^arc^ 16, 1871. as you can. You always find l^J! f^ "^^^ ''''' '° "^^^^«*«r *<' ^e only touch me. I thSre feel towX ' '^^ T*'" ^^^^ ^^' ^^^^^ ^^^ers and teacher. If ever voTh^vi tit ^''''- T *^ "*^ ^"^ ^^«^' ^^^^ «« friend ceive it and keep'I .£ cast it thi/'" ^''H' T ^" " «°^^ *^^* ^^ -«- inteitlnYotVe^;^ o^^^^^^^^^^ ^^s ^t with sciatica as an out, for a drive; and the bhie skv 3"k Jr f/''* "^^^ ^ ^^^« ^^en a life-joy to my heart wJnVh Z^ T., f '""^ ^^''*^ ^'''"^^ streaming in as been coLealin^rom mt^^^^^^^ %' "^f -- 1^^?^ up whiclx had they were.' I cannot^ay t a^s^S-^ r!- ^ '^"^ ^°'' ^'^* ^°^ ^^^^ti^^l during my illness ;Tit TalwayS^^^^^ ^''' ^^^^^^^ P^^^^"* *<> "^« and I .af filled with pic^ Se tl,' ? t\ nk V^^T'r '^^""^ «^^' take more care in rlorifyine Him in fll\^ ^ ^^ '^ teaching me is to of work more rel,gCby my 1 Wn?^ ' ^^^ *^."^^^' ^^ ««"^^o^ «f« One result . " Zatfon fs tlTlT ^^'1^^' f^^'^^^^Y' ^^d obediently, marriage. 1. 2 ?; *"'^' ""'"^^^^ ^°* *° ^o to Lord Lome's to be aVest ao ~ .'bu? ZIZ?^ \T *^ ^^' ^« ^ ^ave been asked 'Amen !' and fee- ' When thp r^'' "■"^'- '^^' '^"'' ^^^ «« ^ ««y go to some Spa ab „ and drown fh?.^°'"''T '' ^uT '' ^ «'^^" P^"<^l^'-^Wy bothered and upset by evl Shi. work'^'V^ T'^^'' ^/^^ *^^ ^^^''^ read and was fascinated by HutS Twi - ?J ^^^««"fined to bed, I such a book is an era. He has sS a ^tfTT\^T^''- ^"^ "^^' ^^^^''"^ the true scientific aspects of oZl. ^,"*« ^f ^"^1 grip with one hand of true spiritual insig^ hi/pS n^^^^ ' g' d^^n'cl^^^^^^^^^^ ''''' T understand how he shodd not w Jnl contribution to the times, but I cannot seem to me to Imrmonte s^b^I t^X^^^^ ^1^ ^^-^-t, as they '^"' wha'rmf t' ''-' ^-«;-- to t^h:;^Sii;r5o^^^^^ ^^^ ''' ^^^-^ «^ -enZ^hatrt dSrS tttS^&in :^^^^^ 27 I li il8 LIPL OP NORMAN MACLEOD. ^■• *'! as to overpower tlie minds and hearts of the whole family of God. I v*it in the full assurance of faith. How strange, too — how long the clouds lin- ger in the blue sky, which nevertheless are as surely passing away as the morning mists before His love. It is sweet to think that such darkness con- ceals us not from the Light of Life. But the common notion of the punish- ment of hell fire, and for all eternity ; the punishment of all who have not been elected, and have, for Adam's sin, been justly left dead without aa atonement ; the atonement itself as explained by hyper-Calvinists ; the utter impossibility of any teaching or salvation after death (how we may not see); these, and the whole complicated system of sacerdotalism and popery, seem to me a thousand times doomed. And yet, God is so wise, so charitable, so patient, such a Father, that «v«n by these ideas, or in spite of them. He will educate man for * the fuUnes of time,' the grand ' end !' I feel more and more the simplicity and grandeur and truth of Luther's idea of faith — to be an out and out child ; to be nothing, that God may be all, not only for us, but in us ; and, perhaps more than Luther would admit, to choose this — and to choose it not only once for all (a mighty choice !), but always and in all things — what strength and peace ! I know the lesson, but it seems to me that I have never learned it. And heaven would be heart^en, were it nothing more than its being the finishing of our education by the perfect utterance of ' Our Father.' " From, his Journal : — ^'Ajml 9th. — This is Communion Sunday — Easter Sunday. I conducted the service in the forenoon. I am at home for the rest of the day. " The winter's work has been chiefly preaching. I exchanged with Don- ald, and preached the Temptation sermons in Park Church, he preaching for me five Sundays. Had pleasant district meetings, with a new plan of inviting the members to tea. This has helped to unite us, I have raised by personal application every farthing for Bluevale Church, now £2,100, and it will soon be the £2,500. I profoundly feel that this, like all done by me, is God's doing, certainly not mine. Our organ has been given by kind, good James Baird, and a memorial window by Mrs. George Grant. I am deeply thankful that the number of my communicants has been greater than usual, new ones eighteen, and among them my dear — — . Oh ! what a joy it is to see my beloved children, one after the other, thus in simplicity of faith publicly accepting of the Saviour. God's Spirit has surely b»en with them since birth. I don't think they have been converted by any sudden chauge. They seem to me as growing up in the faith, being educated gradually by the Spirit. They are full of life, energy, and happiness, and will probably have to pass through trials in which their true life will be deepened. They little know how happy they are, and in what domestic sunshine they have lived. God bless them, darlings, in the bonds of Christ. " I have published in Good Words my War sermon and my Temptation sermon*;. The Peace Society seem to dislike me. We don't comprehend eail) other. TLcy thir.k me blind, and I think them silly. " I havb be':n reading Hutton's ' Essays' with great delight. His great defect is ign(»ring the Holy Sprit, or not connecting Him, as he does the Etern.al Son. with one eternal, abidipff reality. " I have been much distressed about our Indian Mission. Within * xew iil 1871—72. 41^ I conducted he does the V^ithin * lew "The war ! the Reds and Assembly now fichtin^/ Of ^nnvco +1, n m„ne must go down, or France as a nation mS Xt Lxt f ^-^ '""' before long. But the Character of the people has b^en rn?S^ Monarchy a national restoration of principle of mtrinti^m T ?J^1 ^""^ '''^l^'^'^ struction of a sensual, vaiS, i'etknt, S " ud f' ^^' to be Puritanised, if that is possible, or even Teuto sp!i T uT^" ""'"^ generations of peace, education, and a firm^ wlsXlful aT "^" '7? government to do this. AVhei'e are the govWlois'? Wh^ ^ Z £7"'^ will be governed? Unless a nation is religiousr educated it k. "" ? fear our own may suffer from secularists and Comtists/' ' ^'"'- ^ The following letter was written in reply to some inouirie. wbi^T, had any flZ.^ '^''''^'°"' ^' ^^""^^^^^ ^^^« ^«ked whether he of his du.ef ^^;:;^i;tSeS t^:^:^ r:t.Sn?^^^s m bringing very niany not only to the Church, but I beTSve to God ' To Mr. Simpson, at Messrs. Blackwood and Sons' :_ 1 nave the pleasure of sending you mv first nortinn nf MQ ^^ ^u t j- with age and experence I^ plfV ^* my hand ha. not improved •MacE.a„ on the Types' I never wlvtfefft^e KX L°''*""« in4S:^lr»cSrg.^r - P-='"-I n,ean MS,, .^^Zi,U be yo his MoTUEB ; — 2-, and to .avage peop.e, not^t^'t^turLS ^ ^^Z ,"'SuS " A sky of perfect blue, warm snushine, but a chill in the shade, an east. i '' ' in. m i V i' \ tt20 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. uf\ n wind feel, telling that summer is not yet begun. But the woods are green, the birds singing, and the cuckoo tolling through the glens. " I don't feel better, for to tell the truth I did not feel ill immediately before leaving. But I feel well, peaceful, happy, and I believe after a month will return with good spirit for fair, honest work, not extra. «' I have finished ' Lothair,' which I have read for the first time. It is nothing as a story, or rather it is miserably ill put together, but it contains a series of most interesting pictures of life. I have no interest in the hero, he is a mere bit of fine red wax, impressed by every new seal. The best thing in the book is the exposure of the tricky and clever way of Kome in making converts. " Now my dear, are you amazed we had no hurricane ? No accidents 1 No sore backs or broken heads ; but that we eat, sleep, and thoroughly en- joy ourselves, and have now but one wish, to be back soon among you all." To hia Mother s— " Ems, May 17, 1871. "It is interesting to see the wounded soldiers walking about here with their iron crosses. The leader of the band has one. He led the band of the Guards as the; marched into battle at Gravelotte. A fine old fellow was drinking at the spring yesterday. A ball had passed into his breast and out at his back at Spicheren. " A very nice fellow was dressed in faded uniform, sitting behind his counter, with such a blithe face. He had come back the day before to wife and children. His next neighbour, landlord of the Golden Vine, who was engaged to our landlady's daughter, lies buried where he fell. " A noble-looking Uhlan officer who walks about was surrounded with his troop. The French officer ran a lance through his coat only. The lance broke, and he shot the officer, and he returned with the lance hanging in his clothes. ♦' I never saw more modest, unassuming men.** To Dr. Watson :-— " Ems, May, 1871. " I have been fairly settled here for two days only, living in lodgings, rising at 6.30, drinking, morning and evening, half-boiled soda water from a Brunnen; taking baths every second day, walking two hours, watching rou- lette, and rejoicing in the losses of the fools who stake their money; reading novels (Lothair for the first time), and all with balmy air and a quiet con- science. I am as yet much as I was when I left home, well, out heavy in the legs, and gouty. But I have no doubt I shall be all right and cheery yet. " My great anxiety is our Mission. " Holland is in a horrid state, a hundred and sixty-five parishes vacant, no clergy to fill them. Rationalism reigns. The national system of educa- tion is rearing a godless people. The teaching of national history even is forbid, as the history of the national struggles against Rome would ofiend the Papists. May heaven confound their politics !" To the Same : — " Your letter did me more good than a hogshead of M's or N's water. A 1871—72. water from a 421 ! i l^'s water. A ■n your lands, and give you full authority to dve in 1 J^Z.H^ T" you give in your own. I will not carry out a dijerat S^o^°S, "'""' sent I could not. My judgment would not go wHh" So ^„r Z f '^''" heart, one result of restored health, should oS ianl it will T^ l °"°? gladly hope, be to let me loose agaii for a seaTn through the chlfT '' * ■ '' Svt^ndlhe'^effrf;!^' ''"''-*^' ^ ^'^^'^^^Slt^'^ which the union of the F anrl TT P ni,„ i, '^^^/l^"^ ^ similar re-action, r don't fear disestlShmc^t hYt s^o2™terfaSl Z^^^^ wh^may beg, but are not allowed to dig?! fear aireduc^etand'low-S To liis Mother ; — « I did not tell you I had crossed to T nnrlor, T v, " ?"*'' ^"^ ^^' ^^^^• service in Cologne^ Cathedll There w^^^^ en route, a night mass of worshipi,ers. Lights were on the nltlv ^l 7^ "^f ^' ''^^"* r» Dr. Watson :— (if, , "Ems, ./w^ 5, IS?!, I have been greatly worried day and night by the India Mission. What I f « 422 LIFE OF N OEM AN MACLEOD. speeclxes have I made about it ! And so it is that I have got the old gout back, and can hardly crawl. Why do I bother myself] Why do I think? It is in my blood — bone of my bone ; it came with my father and mother and all my forbears, and must die with me ; but it is not to every one I can lay bare my feelings. On thy calm, devoted head I can discharge my light- ning, and roar like thunder, or bray like an ass. So I am thankful I was not in the Assembly. I would have gone wild, and been sorry for it next morning. The cause was in better and wiser hands when in thine." From his Jouenal : — "Gedl'ES, September 14, 1871. " Early in May we went to Ems by the advice of Sir William Jenner. The back-l)one of that journey is recorded in Good Words. We were very happy. Dear Nommey went with us. The Van Loons were very kind to us. Tlie General Assembly, and its ignorant treatment of the Indian ]\Iis- sion, has given me some trouble, and if God spares me, I shall in a long and possibly final speech in the next General Assembly, defend it with all my might from these attacks." One of the few public meetings which he attended this year was the Scott Centenary, held in Glasgow in August. The address recently given to the British Association by its distinguished president — his esteemed friend Sir William Thomson — respecting the meteoric origin of the germs from Avhich vegetable and animal life have been evolved, was then exciting considerable comment, and it provoked him to in- dulge on this occasion in some quiet banter, which no one of the audience enjoyed more than Sir William. " It is not for me," he .said, "to account for the genesis of that marvellous literature, so prolific as to liave multiplied ami replenislied the earth. In- structed by science, I dare not seek its origin in the creative mind of Scott ; yet, as it is a literature so full of life, it must, I supjjose, have come fi-om life somewhere. Will my illustrious friend, the Pre.sident of the British Association — for whom my highest admiration and deepest aftection are divined — pardon an iymmntms like me, if 1 start an hyj)otlHvsis to account for those extraordinary plienon.'>na 1 Is it not possible, I timidly ask, tliat some circulating library, or, more correctly speaking, some library circulating through endless space — sonio literary meteoric group of ' ^Indies' and * IMadchoscs' was broken u[)— and tliat the shreds of the exploded leaves fell on l)on Nevis or the Ih'aes of Lochaber, accomjianied, peihaps, by the shivered fragments, from a distant Highland worhl, of bagpipes and clay- mores and ' splouclians' and kilts, and tlitit out of them sprang ' Waverley,' and tluit this product ' Waverley' selected, very naturally, the west of Scot- land in which to evolve sundry other novels of that ilk J"* • A friend who wn8 an hahitiid of the " l)mk .study" lolntcs, thiit shortly bcfoio the •pciH'h was (IcliviTod, the "meteoric theoiy" wiih there diseuHHed, es|M'eii»lly with re- fereneo to the_ reception it hiid nut with from iie\v.si);i[)er erities, wlio seemed to liu anauiHiciiB in noiauig that it "iiiy iiindViil the (hiiictiily u.s io ihe »iij,'iii of iiu< a stugi' back. Nornian'8 friend, in a note which he sent to a loeal journal, and which was rend in the "hack study," con1eii(hil that this criticism was unfair, inasmuch as the dillicnltv was not only icmovud farther buck, but removed out of this world altogether, and aftei 1871—72. 423 From his Jouenal :— ** G^mm, September 14, 1871. " Thj^^^ G}od for this peace ! I have had a most blessed time here— the more blessed becaaise, as I had anticipated, it made my own dear one so hap,^. No wonder ! It has been like a resurrection of old friSs of the family, rich and poor. The kindness of all has been quite oveiCwerinff L proof o'f tfl"^ children, who have been all fcould wi'sh-hav'e M( pioot of the deep aflfection and respect in which their grandfather and grandmother have been held. It is most touching, and immensely graWymg-a great reward for their goodness -to hear their praises spoken of by eveiy one with a pathos and touching heartiness which ^ most pleasing I cannot toll what a marvellous gift Geddes has been to me. It has made our own John literally alive again. I have preached twice here, and given an Indian address, and raised ^40. I have preached 7lrf W-^^'^? 'rr \'^'' ^^^r^ ^"^««- ^ -^^^ daHv to rlveal the Mier to His children. It is such light, such freedom, such a binding Frase? ^'^""^ ^""^' '^''"'''''^' ^""^ ^'"'^'''^ '''''"^''''*^" ^ ''•''''® """"^^ ' ^"^^^J^' " God reconciles all in Himself. " Oh, my Father, thanks— thanks be to Thee ! " We leave to-morrow. I lament nothing. I thank God for everything. His goodness IS overpowering. I do know how good He is !" While at Gedaes the memory of Jolin Mackintosh seemed contiuu- toll . ''' ^ 7'^ '^"'^ refreshing presence. One of his first waikh was to a spot closely associated with him, and lie used to tell the ovei-powermg effect it had, when, as he was sitting there wrapped in quiet thouo-ht, he heard the wild sad notes of the ba-pipe playing Mackintosh s Lament -one of the most beantiful, as it was now tlie J"°ft''l;ff''f^'^^^^P^^''''^1• ^liofomily usuaHy spent the evening n tlie hall, off which opened the door of what had been John Mac^ kintoshs room; and when his children were dancing reels, he ^vould often sit Avatchmg them, lost in quiet thouuht, the past and present Jn'n ""iT> ^^f 'iT'^-'"'^ feeling how ' CJo.l reonciled all things n Himself. Tlie following impromptu lines oppress the diameter of these musings : — Kl'.!'! Prn^T- ''»V«;^'}"t«fo''«R''9, wouM now havo to be t:,ko,i „p by the A.ssooiation for tlie Promotion of Neieuee in one of tlie ot l,er planets. Tiekied l,y this siijo tion amhnarolnng «p an.l down the room. Nor.nau .li'ctated a P. S lo ^'apiienJeiTo th; to ro^wH\?t\*i'LTV*' f ''»""'■ n"""""'^ •'" T"""' '" ^''•°''^ '!'"»«« with these latest results, ,, 111 ^ eliapler of Genesis in this w;iy : — " 1. The earth was without toiin and void. '"2. A meteor foil noon the earth. ":j. The t*pqiii4- <«v>i« hsit, nf-sh, luiil f(nvi. • i. From these p'-ocemled the British Assoeiation. 0. Ana the Brit)»U Association proHotuiced it all tolerahly jjood f" f^: P! 424 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. IN MEMORIAM OF "THE EARNEST STUDENT." (impromptu.) In the hall was dancing and singing, My children were brimful of joy, I sat there alone, and in shadow, Near his room dreaming about hi)n Who there long had laboured and prayed, Where angels saw heaven and earth meeting In the heart of that true child of God,— The briglit, the unselfish, and joyous ! And the chill winds of autumn were moaning Through the pines, down his favourite walks ; But the stars were out brightly shining, And one brighter than all was above. I dreamt of those last days of sickness, Of his patience, his meekness, and love, Of the calm of his summer twilight. Of the midnight before the bright day. As I gazed at that chamber, long empty. In this home, his heaven when on earth. It was strange, it was terribly awing, To think of him now lying dead ! Dead as tiie granite that heavily Covered him witli tlic stones and clayf That heart of the Inughing and loving In a cold leaden coffin lying still ! That heart to which all that was truest And pure was a well-spring of joy, Yonder twenty long years lying buried. Yet for twenty long years still living Elsewhere in the home of his Father ! Ah, where was he now, in what mansion, In what star of the infinite sky ? Whom had ho met since we parted. Since the night when we bade him farewell f What since liad lie seen, was lie seeing ? What since had lie done, was he doing ? With wliom had ho spoke, was he speiikingt Did he think of us here, and remember Tliose he never forgot wln'ii on cartli ? Was he here witli tlic ministuring angeli In the hall of iiis early ilcad home ? Ah, what would he tliiiik of our evenings Our evenings ho merrily siiciit ? Could Ids heart now feel holy sorrow, With his fiiilh and love jioifeet in (.'odf Could his heavenly sunshine be sluKhiwod, Beholding tliese forms of >iirlh's gladness 'Midst the sin and the sulferings of life ? Would he wonder that we eoulil be happy And his and our Saviour still waiting To see joy from his anxious soul-travail, And \.\w true life of (!od in tlie world ? All I that dear one would hear our woakues^ Our sleep 'midst the gloric s around, Our blindness to all he rejoiced in, Our slowness to lenrn froiii our Lonl I As I gazed at his room, now silent. The .w lit,. )... «).. 'A P ,.,..,11;, Him laughing and playing with 'hildron, 1871-72. 42& Telling tales to them, singing them sonsrs ; nm true soul m harmony chiming With all the arrangements of God • I awoke from my dream, yet savins Incanguish, " My love, thou art dead f J hou art dead to us twenty long years !" lien I said, " No, my love is living • or IS he not part of our being. And with us wherever we are • And are not all 'together with God'— With Himself the life of the living i " it we saw thee once more among us We would fly to thine arms entwining And thy smiles as of old would welcome With the old voice of love onlv sweeter, And the bright eyes of love only brighter . AH lovely I see thee among us, And hear thy loved accents again • In my calmed heart whispering gentlv, These joys are all gifts from our Father. But our Father Himself is all. " Now all are at rest. It is midnight- How dead is the liall and liow silent I The night winds still sadly are moaning. But the stars are still brightly shiningf Still o er all is the bright light of God ! To Mrs. MACLEOD :— „j "Balmoral, Oci., 1871. hope I m so for goo Mr. Hkuderwick, Editor of tlie Glasijow Citiien:— "Janunnj, 1872. " I have just road your gcniTous dt^fonco of me against tho most unt iiirt »nd malicious attacks of tho n(nvs|)apors. Tho fact is that during the thir- teen or fourteou years in which I have boon inclose contact with the Royal Family, 1 have carefully avoided over speaking about thom in public, and »ff ' 1871—72. 427 in private only to intimate friends. Yet T have often felt mv Iionvf K, , • m listening to all the wild lies told about tlien ltes7 ^^l 1^1^ t^f Bpecches were purely accidental, and almost forced up ^ '"^^ *"^" At Lenzie I forgot there were reporters in the room, and was suddonlv called upon by the chairman to con6rm the account he ^^IJlrn^ health ; and a minute before I spoke I had as nS i Sinn nf -^""'^ ' of seeking to be knighted. So it was in the iCl y t" t-l "v^J t?^ '' '''' the topic was to be introduced. Dr. M. was spe!'kaC about ZL7 7""'.' He stopped, and called on me to propose ir^n^ 1 cR so C^>1 '^^^^^^^ minute's preparation. To flatter ma^sty is grossl^mpertence A 'to '''' kmghted, thank God the Queen iJse/cannot bXw ^^^ont,^^^^^^^^^ knidona Scotch clergyman. No possible favour can she T.n .1 honour bestow, beyond what the pooV can give the pr-tr IS' IsLip " " Yours gratefully, born/' ''"''"' ^'^'"^ ^ ^'''"' *"''™ *''" ^^^''^ orGovemmJnt W I was The improvement which his sojourn at Ems and the summer's rest at Geddes had wrouulit on his iiealth was unfortunately of si or duration. Before mi.l-winter was reached, and in spite of his takW he u most care in avoiding unnecessary engagement , Id^w^k t^ o? to ten heavily upon hnn. and he assumed a wearied and broken-down asiject. Labour winch before sat lightly on him, was now exhau ?in to, . and an increasing sense of depression weighed on his sp dts T ? most ominous and distressing symptom was the restlessne s av-I ich e experienced whenever he retired for tlie night, and which p eve ted Inm enjoying sleep for more than a quarter of an hour It athno Though happdy unaccompanied by pain, this usually lasted till 110': ing, and became so trynig, that in order to humour it he <^eneia v passed the inght on a sofa in his dressing-room. A volum of A lo 'I History of Lurope"and G.mvood's "Sketches" lay on tlie manteH ie and the long hours, broken by brief snatches of sleep, were spenn rendmg the accounts of campaigns and battles.* Alilit seven in the morning he vv^ould return to his room, and alter an hour or two re! freshing slumber enter on the liard toil of the day He devoted much time during this winter to his inilpit, writin-v all his sermons fully out, and preaching not o.ily with gU, delioht t himself, but ,n a manner so instructive to his' people that thjy 00 back to the teaching of these htter months as more precious tlmVany they ever received Irom him. -^ He went to London in February, on the occasion of the public thanksgiving in 8( Taul's. for the recovery of the Prince of V is The gathering of the representatives of the P.ritish empire for such a purpose, the imposing ceremony, tlie spectacle of the vast cathedral Tliis kind of reHdhig Imd ulwiivs n pcniliar charm for Ii IT u (iiiy ot tnnisiial linnl iiiciitnl work, invadiiiiuorotl \> AlisdirH "History." or " Wflliii^toii's Disi.ntcl ■iif ire dmnge of thought m, so tliiit not uiifrrqiuMitly I'lwisc, ho woiilil hiivi! icc( u's," and liml n-fieshiuent ui ttirflfl n-s m givh g— "*> i- y ' 428 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. filled with its ten thousand worsliippers, the music, the dignified service, all combined to impress him deeply. " I thank God," he said to his brother who sat beside him, "for a National Church, without which we could not have such an expression of the national religion It is all worthy and right. We could not do this in Scotland Oui> Presbyterianism is too individual in its methods,— healthy Quoxx^h. as bringing the soul to deal witli the personal God, but there should be room m a Church, which professes to be national and historic, for such a service as this." One feature in the assembly deeply afff^cti ' hira There were near him a number of Orientals, Parsees, Jr ' ', and Mahommedans, whose presence touched a sympathetic i^ n hi^ heart. In his speech to the General Assembly three moji.us after- wards, he alluded to the impression that scene had made on him. "When tliese men," he said, "some of tliem representatives of sovereigns who once occupied the thrones of India, belield the assem- bly, which, take it all in all, was one of the most remarkable ever gathered— when they beheld the Queen who now ruled over them, the legislature of Britain, old warriors covered with medals won in many a hard-fought battle in tlieir own India, men of philosophy and science, men who liad governed provinces far greater than England,— all bowing down in worship, and when they heard like a°mi«htv breeze the prayer whispered from these ten thousand lips, 'OurFaUier which art in heaven ; ' what if one of these Easterns had risen and said, ' You have sent us laws, men of science, and warriors, but have never told us of that Fatlier to whom you pray !' Could that be said m truth, then miglit a greater assembly still be summoned to ask God's mercy on a nation that had been so unfaithful." Tlie Scotchmen settled in Liverpool had always shov.-u him affection, which was quite reciprocated by him, and as his eldest son was now there learning business, he determined on liis way home from London to visit him, and beg for funds for his beloved India Mission. His method of a])proaching some of the merciiants of the town greatlv amused them. " If you treat me in Liverpool as well as I see you treat dogs I will be content," he said to one of them ; and in answer to the puzzled look of inquiry, he added, "Merely that I noticed how a dog liad carried off hundreds of pounds at a coursing match, and I think I am as good as a dog any day." To George Campbell, Esij : — " Bkoadgreen, Liverpool, February, 1872. " Tlianks for your ^50. I will tell you a story— a rare tiling with me. Tho boiulle and gravedigger of Kilwinning parish, Ayrslun;, was dying.' One day his niiiiister found liim very sad, and on questioning him as to the cause of this imusual depression, lie said, ' I was just coinitin' that since the new year I had buried fifty folk, inchidin' bairns, and I was hopefu' that I might be spared to nuik' oot the luuuier (hundred) afore the neist now year.' " Do you see ? That heart of yours is, I guess, ovoli bigger thuu your purse. May both be bigger, if possible ! " I am trembling betwixt hope and fear lor- my Indian ark." 1871—72. 429 Campbell. During the few Brev W 1^"?) ^T'^^'. ^,'- '^"'^^ ^^^^l^^^' anotLrofhisfrienVLs^r^^^^^^ ^^^ seen one after bad just enteredl^TtoCr res? and now r°^ ^"' f ^^^^ and Maurice est aid best of all, had foHowed ^'"'P^'"' '^ ^""^ '^' S^'^^t- During the same month he visited St Andrpw'= fn. +i all struck," Piirc d Shai?D «.WtP^«T 1 ■mssionaiues. "We were he seemed so op,id"3 nit's wti"!™: SL'r'l'r"^ only a few hundred peonle in nnr «moii V, • " .,^^'^® S^^^g to address reniember the close of that Stes After l?''f- '^^'^^^'^ ' T^ ^ ^^^^ very calmly the state of the Ms on and iN wpJf ^^''^ '^'^'^^ ^"^ fit men anS sufficient funds, ^^ ^a!':^^^^^:^^:^ ^''\ General Assembly arrives neither nf ^11^.^' ^ ii ^ ^ ^"^^® "^-"^^ one who wishes he maThnra ^r've .'' '^,.7 forthcoming, there is it fell like a knell on my heL-t ?nd on n.1 ''^' ^a ^^'^ '^'°'^' ^"^ that day, that thouahThe co^e^e oh^Lh ^^ ''''''\ ^°, "^^^'^ ''^' ^'^ iVom oi house, he hadt bf d2:ef both SrrrntbLkr'^' ^^^'^^ From his Journal : — kave been written ! TeXSivinffo.T 'T'"'^'*'"'^'' *«»« last word, week in London-the gmn " tK 1^ ll^T r ^"°"' ''"''" "■'" witness; and tl,o Jeath or „,;;;, "Sffrim^' ^^^^^^^^^^^^ added to t thTS 7S MrM^ ■""« ""{ i"'"'' "f"- ^ »'"* '-™ and soul this nigirtl"^ fca™ot'''w?£"2i,rt J,rv!t T^'^V" i'"'^ b.«; mnst mark this point and tmnsitL between mv^ltriV: "'™'' which I am involved aq n mini^i^^ » v- "'^''^®\" "^7 pi^s* and future, m f the?. ^^^^'^'f^^'^' ^"'^ brother ■suppose the Hindoos, who were obslt? /^^^^"f ,?"^ke the sacrifice ! But themselves and say, ^ You arrsendh"^n?P."'*' ^^''^^' ^^''^ *« *^»-n *>n nn].lies enormous sacVificos onTur pa^ H vw"''^''"'^' *" '''^"^^'^ ^^^^^'^ You are asking us to sacrifice aU our tmdUkrs h^'f >'«'"• °^^r^^"''-^3^^-'"^^? custom m your parishes that has been bvnn f '1 ' ^^'^ "^^"^ * ^'^"''^^e the «ors ! What do you give for t !l K ^ ? ' V' ^^ y^"»" ^'^nerable predoc^s- i.s the case in oife h.^ndred ^t^ S^t' of ''T^ "' " J™^' -' - You call us deceivers; but we take von W ^ ^l^n'-clies, nothing at all? »s see what Christianity is iryom-sdvP.tf ^''''*'''"'''' ^"^* ''^^ >'«" ^o ht 'lad yet to learn that it was tlfeTol ' • h F ^'" 'r' *" "«•' ' • • • He ^ CHS. He had always undeil ood tW H, ''"^" ^^'"'^"" *« '""^e con- l.aiid of Pn,l tr ""uti&tood tliat the conversion of cnnl^, ,vo« w ^1 • I 434 ZIFi: OF NORMAN MACLEOD. and to implore God's grace on the means. But he would ask those who judge the Mission by the number of converts, to find out how many conver- sions had taken place in their own parishes during the same time. Let them go down to the village, and entering a house, say they will not leave it till they bring the men and women to Christ. Let them go to the man of science, who had mastered many of the questions of the day ; let them not call him proud, or sneer at him as a 'natural m»n,' for he maybe most earnest, and may be sweating a more bloody sweat in seeking to come to the truth than they had done ; let them <: ■ to that man and satisfy his doubts, meet him fairly before God, and whei hey returned from such a visitation as that, they would have more sympathy with missionaries dealing with educated heathens." The chief purpose of his speech, however, took wider ground. He desired all Churches to consider whether the forms in which they were presenting truth, and the ecclesiastical differences they were exporting to India, were the best means for Christianizing that country. Was it right that the divisions which separated Churches in this country, and which were the growth of their special histories, should not only he continued, but be made as great matters of principle in India as in England or Scotland ? " When these Hindoos heard an Anglican bishop declare that he did not recognise as belonging to Christ's Church congregations of faithful men holding a pure gospel and observing the sacraments of the Lord ; when they met others who said, ' You must accept all these Calvinistic doctrines ; ' and when the Wesleyans came next and said, ' God forbid ! don't bring these things in ; ' and the Baptist came with his idolatry of sacrament, saying, * You must be a Baptist, you must be dipped again;' and when the Roman Catholic came and said, ' You are all wrong together ; ' is it any wonder that the Hindoo, pressed on every side by different forms of Western Christianity, should say, ' Gentlemen, I thank you for the good you have done me, but as I am sore perplexed by you all, take yourselves off, leave me alone with God, then I will be fairly dealt with.' It was a positive shame — it was a disgrace — that they should take with them to India the differences that separated them a few yards from their brethren in this country. Is it not monstrous to make the man they ordained on the banks of the Ganges sign the Westminster Confession of the Church of Scotland or the Deed of Demission and Protest of the Free Church? Was that the wisest, was it the Christian way of dealing with Hindoos 1 .... And were they presenting the truth to the native mind in the form best fitted for his requirements'? The doctrines of their Confes- sions might be true in themselves, but the Confession was a document closely connected with the historical development and with the metaphysi- cal temperament of the people "•• ' ^^acfiguted it, and might not be equally suitable for those who had not ine sauie traditioii.. Jl m^a^ies. Was it necessary to give these minute and abstract statements to urientalb vhose habits of mind and spiritual affinities might lay better hold on other aspects of divine truth, and who might mould a theology for themselves, not less Christian, but which would be Indian, and not English or Scotch t The HIS DEATH. 435 block of ice, clear and cokl, the beautiful pioduct of nnr r,n,.fi r will at the slightest touch freeze the warm lin of the hLZ w, '^•'"''' that he must take that or nothing ? AVould it not Si.? Y^T T^ Ch.;rches tor^tll^ir^LiS: t^t Z ^^SZ^^^'^ faith construct a Primer, or make the ApostW S-eo H^.l t^« ^o'nmon say, 'This is not all you are goin- to learn but if vn '^^'V^ ^"^^ and be strong in the faith, w wil ' Se 1/ i f^-"'^'/^"^ *^'"*'^ doubtful disputations; and, if in anvthTnTvoT' so ^alkmg, but not to will reveal iven this unto vour (ml tLf^hn? 1 1 ?"f """'^•^'^' ^«^» not only by books but by if.^l mof sSl T h^l^^^^^^^^^^ tetr' be a man who embodies Ohristianifv • onrl if 1 1 missionaij. Let him Christian !Mie could answer 'I^^^^^^^^ ' 7^^'^^ i« ^ to know Him and love Hin ^ol' liL ran in isTusti r'' '"^ ""^\^"^" self-sacrifice, would make the Hindoo feeTth.t he ha 1. t' ^T"'''}^^' \''> possibly be saciiticed to the tiiiiiditv of som» „f tt T I " "'" speak out their thoughts, o, still'.SerloTrpottof oS: W.'o ta the critical position oltlie Church at home, were caMions 1^.^ '-r o^poZtf ™^ "' "^"'-'-™»-" »ad; ag^inS' trbrLTe^eS from you. A man mav so wr r IZl T ^' *^ '°"''''^^ *'^« ^^^»«'e world head L to shutTt ^sir^oiTnTs :r'c r??r ^■''"^^^ .^^^ your Cairns do not stand so near as to shut on f r T ^''\\'''''^ ^^^^ «^or(/ make you so tremble for nettv .nn! Calcutta, and the Watch- forgotten b/you. I itt^^elk^^^^^^^^^^ ^-^^ ^^ know how these difficulties nress m.nn t«o!^ "^ • • ' ^® ^'^^'®''' ^^^ I Low more than one has taken my 1 .tud anZaid"''''?''^"''^"^ ^""^^"'b^^' these things, lest our own naZs C l.l^«f T , ^^'^ ""^^ '^''''^^ «"* ^'^ safe, and all home-confiZce be removed ^^^^ -I-esented as un- afraid of such reproach ? Whv shoX I be aft-"f 7 '^'^'' *^^ '°'^'^y' occupations and joy of the blessed dead, had been a favourite theme with him for mnnvvpor^ i If J • he last few days of his life, it seemed lo ell^^^U'Zu^^^^^^^ friend could be w^h him for many minutes without his revein^t V^;i9ent=ell^:^U- MSd-^^^^ above an, what a comfort It is to know that the 3fan Christ Jesus' hed ! On Iriday alter he was taken ill, I was sitting on his bod hearing how he was, and he said. "How dreadful it wo 1 dbe if a Go of hate ruled the world ; how he could torture us ! Fr instance he could make us die more than once, and each death bocomru diSful experience. Let us thank God for His love. AfterT" he add " trurii?o.'?""' "'"'"^"^^ '''''"' ^"^^^ '^'^ i^-i'i^ bhth into !l^ Tlie greater part of Monday, 3rd June, was spent by him alone in the o^itsKle study He passed the day chiefly in wrfti n!. l^tTs to valued Iriends and m .piiet meditation. One of his auntrhnind hi m mulmg the seventy-first psalm, and he at once madeTt tl e " ou li ^"7^ tliose out-pourings of his deepest, most inward ex e- riences which none who ever lieard them can forget. In tlie even n^ all ins family were gatiiered round his table. " From his Jouhnal — ,»>vc,.» «i, „„„', f,.„i , „„„ ;„„ 'i;;;;;';,™'";;°t,n^ '/£:';; ;• rr,™; ■lono httU, m ™,„|.m«„„ will, wl,„t 1 coul.l havJdo,,,., 1, , I , Iv I .n not attending each day, tVum youth upwar.l.s, in ,lui,.., to tl.o b,' t ' 'n v abhty that one work, whothor of uv.M.rin^ a lesson o.Mtnvt u/h' ' LZ mo to do It .H no co.uibrt to toll ,ao what f huv. ,loun. for it ?. fi^'o^i:; tort. I f™l It truor tu ooufcHH what I have not clono. what [ ou-htto havA done, wha r could ..avo clone, and which hoin,^ loft un.lo.u, L^ 7 . on « fX rea,, and Hhan.otul loss to mo all n.v lito. Whatever u n.ans nat. a U ent HI I II 438 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. may be, whatever success he has had in the world, whatever good he hag accomplished, it yet remains true that he would ha. a been better, wiser more influential, and glorified God far more if he had been a careful, accu' rate, diligent scholar at school and college, and acquired those habits of study, that foundation of knowledge, witliout which talent is stunted, and genius itself is very far from aoconiplishing that which it otherwise could do. God blesses the self-sacrifice of study, and that I never had in my youth, and for that I have suffered, and more especially as I have in later years become fully alive to its importance. Morallv' and intellectually I am a dismasted wreck, praising and blessing God if I get into the harbour, and reverencing those who are good men, because they have been all their lives dutiful. " My life has been to mo a mystery of love. I know that God's education of each man is in perfect righteousness. I know that the best on cartli have been the greatest sufierers, because they were the best, and, like gold, could stand the fire and be purified by it. I know this, and a great deal more, and yet the mercy of God to me is such a mystery, that I have been tempted to think that I was utterly unworthy of sufierin<». " God have mercy on my thouglits ' I may be^unable to stand sufferin-^ I do not know. But I lay myself at Tny feet and say— net that I am pre- pared—but that Thou art good, and wise, and wilt pieparo me. I am a poor selfish creature. ' " God is all in all. " God is love. Amen. •' Tlie doctors tell me I am in danger, and that unless I give up work I may not live. I have been ill for the last sixtetjn years. The doctors tell me that I must get quit of worry. I have, by their command, given up on Tluusday last the Convenership of the India Mission. I feel this. I spoke an hour and a half on the subject, but the reports of my speech are fearful; empty of all I said that is worth anything, full of horrors and absurdities I never said." f 1 To Principal SuAii:)*; - "SrdJune, 1872. " I am three-score y^nrn to-day ! " Jo'in, dear, I cannot speak about myself. I am dumb with thou^rlits that cannot be uttered. "^ " The doctors tell me that unless by rest of body and mind I can conquer incipient disease, it will kill me. " So I am obeying to the best of wvy ability. "As I feel time so rapidly passing, 1 take your hand, dear old friend, with a firmer grip ! " 1 have many friends ; few old ones ! "Oh that I h)ved my oldest and truest, my Father and Saviour, better! But should l enter heaven as a forlorn ship, dismasted, and a mure lo-'— it is enough — for 1 will be impaired. " " Hut I have been a poor concern, and have no peace but in Gods mercy to a miserable ninner. •' r spoke in the As.seniidy on India Missions for an liour and a half. J will probably piint it. It is my prograimuo for India. It knocked mo up." •od he Ttias ter, wiser, eful, accu- habits of mted, and ase could ad in my 'e in later ectually I i harliour, I I'll their education jartli have ;old, could eal more, 1 tempted suffering. I am pre- lui a poor, ip work r jctors tell en up on I spoke e fearful; iirdities I ie, 1872. thoughts I confj[uer d friend, ', better ! log — it I'a mercy half I nio up." 1 HIS DEATH. 439 To Mrs. Macnab (Sister of Dr. Macleoa Campbell) :— "3rd June, 1872. , "2rclJune,\%\2. You did not intend it to be a birthday gift to the child you had in vour ^To.TtTZl ''' ■ ■ ""f '' '' h- T^ '' '« ^^-HV precioras a ple'^^^^^^^^ a love that has remained ever bright for three-score vp'ip^ nnrl will ul brighter still when time shall be no more. God bleryou tndV'se^ve you to us on earth ! I am dumb with a sense of awe, and full of thouS ts that cannot be uttered. My only rest in thinking of the pas and a ttta tinl the future is in the one thought of 'God my Father ' anticipating C-vmlS '°fJf /'" T?"^^ ^'^' ^" ^^ re-publish my sketch of dear John Campbell What would you say to putting in an appendix some extracts from his books, expressive of his leading 'views?' This m^Xt help on e "«: in iS "'"' '"' '^^^"^^ '''^"^ '"^ -^^ ^- ^-k«' TheTlouli beTf " As to his letters, &c., no one felt more strongly than John Mackintosh regarding biographies. The only thing which iml^ced us to go tats ht expressed wishes was the conviction, that now he would wish to do^vhatever seemed best to others, whom ho loved and trusted, for the glory oFGod And surely he result justified us. It seems to me that the fesponsibili y of not permitting men to speak when .lead is as great as in enXn. them relpytting"?''" " '' ''^''' '''''' ^^^"'^ ^^'^^ -- ' - ^ queTtiollTcanrt To Rev. A. Clehk, whose son, Duncan Clerk, was then dying :- ? .-'■" "V, , '^?" "^•'"^'^ i'tii-'i anu strengtJi at this terr ble crisis T fp^I how impossible It is to convey in words wlmt one would like to ay at such a time, if indeed silence does not best express the sense of da knl and o p cssion I enter to-day my sixty-fir.st year, and have my mother and all" my family around me and the contrast presented between my hmiso aid yours makes your affliction only more :;.'^"J^ ^^^ ^T^ "»' -'"^^ --U very soon kill'me. ^s"l g,u.- up w.c xmua Mission, and an. trying to sell my house in toxvn and L'.-t one m the country. AM my lameness, weariness, all are Iron, he sa^no -'au«e. I am utterly unable to stand fatigue, and I am still sullering tZ 440 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. <■;-. m my long (oi.e hour and a half) speech and probably my last in the Assembly I fear to aioempt to go to you, as I believe I would add to your trouble, I get so pi-ostrate. I am seriously alarmed for myself and see no escape 'at present. * To the Marchioness of Ely (then Lady in Waiting at Balmoral):— " My Dear Lady Ely, " Whether it is that my head is empty or my heart full, or that both conditions are realised in my experience, the fact, however, is that I cannot express myself as I feel, in replying to your ladyship's kind— far too kind— note, which I received when in the whirlwind, or miasma of Assem- bly business. Thanks deep and true to you and to my Sovereign Lady for thinking of me. I spoke for nearly two hours in the Assembly, which did no good to me, nor I fear to any other ! I was able to preach yesterday. As I have got nice summer quarters, I hope to recruit, so as to cast off tli'is dull, hopeless sort of feeling. I ought to be a happy, thankful man to-day. I am to-day sixty, and round my table will meet my mother, my wife, .uid all my nine children, six brothers and sisters, and two aunts— one eio'htv- nine, the other seventy-six, and all these are a source of joy and thank* gi'v- mg. Why such mercies to me, and such suffering as I often see sent to die best on earth ? God alone knows. I don't, liut I am sure he always acts as a wise, loving, and impartial Father to all His chihlren. What we know not now, we shall know hereafter. God bless the Queen for all her un- wearied goodness ! I admire her as a woman, love her as a friend, and re- verence her as a Queen ; and you know that what I say, I feel. Her courage, patience, and endurance are marvellous to me." From his Journal :^ " June 3. — I am this day three-score years. " The Lord is mysterious in His ways ! I bless and praise Him. " I commit myself and my all into His loving hands, feeling the high im- probability of such a birthday as this over being repeated. " But we shall be united after tlie last birthday into heaven. " Glory to God, for His mercy towards ua guilty sinners, tiirough Jesus Christ, His Son, my Lord. " I pniached at nainioral ('Tiiy King.lom come'), on the 27th May. The Queen, as usuul, very kind. As she noticed my feebleness, she asked mo to be seated during tho private interview. When last at llalmoial, I met Forster (the Cabinet Minister) there. He; and Helps and 1 had great argu- ments on all important theological questi 'is till v(>ry late. I never was mor(! impressed by any man. as deep, independent, thoruii;//if// honest and sincere. I conceived a great lovj for him. I never met a statesman wlmin. for high-mindt^il honesty and juslice, I would sooner follow. Ho will be I'remier some day. " l)eai Helps ! mnn of men, or rather brother of brothers. "The last Asseniby has been the most reactionary I have ever seen ; all because Dr. Cairns and otluirs have attacked tlu, Church for her latitudiuarian- ism ! The lectures of Stanley have aroused the w.-ath of the rharisces, and every trembler wishes to jnove that wo aro not latitudiuarian, forsooth! If Assembly trouble, 1 > escape at ine, 1872. II, or that •, is that I id — far too of Assem- 1 Lady for wliich did yesterday, ast off this an to-day. wife, and ne eighty- LhankKtjiv- sent to the Iways acts ; we know ill her mi- ld, and re- eel. Her ! high ini- igh Josiis [ay. 'J'he cftd mo to ll, I Ml 't oat arjmi- evor was nest aiul lu whom. 3 will !)»> •iccn ; all diiiarian- sccN, uiid >oth ! [f 1 HIS DEATH. 441 b by this term is meant any want of faith in the teaching of Christ and His CIuSJ, ^""^ ^'^i '' '"''\ l^ '''' ^^^^«' «r i^ the^upernatura' or h' Chust s person or atonement though not the Church theory or in all the es dmarian. But if by this is meant that man's conscience or reason Cin Cole ridges sense) IS not the ultimate judge of a divine revelation, tha T am bound to stick to the letter of the Confession, and to believe, for exann le Sr llf.r'^^'^^'' ^'T!V^ ; ^^^^'^^^^^^^ *°^™^'^t« in soul and body for all eternity, because of Adam's sin, and the original corruption sprin-W therefrom, and tha God has sent a Saviour for a select few inly, and that death determines the eternal condition of all men ; then, thank bJd I am a latitudmarian, have preached it, confessed it, and can die for it ! N^thin^ amazes or pains me more than the total absence of all pain, all anxietv all sense of burden or of difficulty among nine-tenths of thi clei'gy I me^t a^ to questions which keep other men sleepless. Give me onlf a man who knows, who feels, who takes in, however feebly (like myself), the life Ind death pix^blems which agitate the best (yes, thi best) and mi^t thou'hS among clergy and laity, who thinks and prays about them, who feefs 1 o difficu les which exist, u^lio has faith in God that the right will come right thankful rt'f u"" Hi' ] "'? strengthened, comforted, an.l feel deeplv thankful to be taught. But what good can self-satisfied, infallible Ultra- montanes do for a poor, weak, perplexed soul ? Nay, what good c^j.,p2s do who may accept congenial conclusions without feeling the difficult es by which they are surrounded ] What have I suffered and endured in tirmy ttle back study, which I must soon leave ! How often from my books he iuf l"^ Tf ,f ''T """'",' ^'"•'? '"^' ""^ ^'^'"^^^ «*-"^^tl^ -^^ peace in the little bit of the sky revealed, with its big cnvmli clouds, its far awav «m streaks and, farther still, its deep, unfathomable bluUits In&IilS depths I could not pierce ! yet seeing-in the great sunlight, in the glory say, liie J^ord reigneth, let the earth rejoice '' nature!^ ''''^'' ^ ^'^ ^ ^"'^ "'''''' """"^ '''''' *'^''""S ^'''''' ^^"^^'« revelation iu " TJie confusion that exists at this moment, and which began soon after the war of '15, and is as eventful as the Reformation, is most^pprecsive, " ' Everything is sundering, And everyone is wondering, As this hugo gh.be goes thimdering On, forever on.'" "On the one hand, there is a breaking up of the old forms of thou.dit about eveything, social, political, scientific, philosophic, and theologic.'. In spite of much foo.sh cou.-eit and sense of power on the part .f those who guide the battonng-nuns against the ol.l wills, there is on the part of wS T;"' "^ r*"^ ''f ' of the paramount importance of truth and duty which. If piously considered w.mid but express faith in God, who is ever * f '1^ ""^ *'"*^'' '^^'«*'^«^" li"-^l«y. l^'^iwin, or any other <.xnrcss i albeit without Hvmnofhv for fho sn*>"i-A= „-'-•• ' . . V^I"^'^^ , ' bl Cc! i>V -I .""' *"•'■".'■" ''" "'"'^^^'^ ''^ *'^""'"^«- Not a few from faith Ui God and Christ, and m tho verities ot that moral and spiritual kingdom 442 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. which, having in themselves, they know cannot be moved, accept of these attacks, not as from real enemies, but friends, because believing that Chris- tianity will ever be found far ahead of men, .vill soon ' prepare a place' for all real truth, so that wherever Christ is, there it may be also. But others are in terror, and either refuse to look at what professes to be truth in the face, and only call its professors nick-names, or try the Romish Syllabus dodge, and gather into clubs, like Jesuits, and in vain, by assertion, try to stop the movement. " So we are split up into fragments, and while Rome remains whole, — in its blindness swearing there is no light because it does not see it, and cursing all eye-doctors and spectacles. " As for Scotland ! The Church of the future is not here ! We ignore great world-questions. We squabble like fish women over skate and turbot. " Where is the germ of the Church of the future ? In what Church 1 In what creed ? In what forms of Government 1 It may come from India, as the first came from the East. But all our old forms are effete, as old oaks, although young ones may grow out of them. Neither Calvinism, nor Presbyterianism, nor Thirty-nine Articles, nor High Churchism, nor Low Churchism, nor any existing organization can be the Church of the future ! May God give us patience to wait ! It may be a thousand, or three thousand years yet, ere it comes, but come it will ! I do not think any Broad Church can be the Church yet; it wants definiteness to meet the com- mon mind of roi h humanity. But in a Church it can modify and liberal- ise extremes, witness for individuality against any extreme views of the body, and so help to an ultimate solution of the problem between the individual and the Church. I shall see it from the other side ; but not from this. " I resigned the Convenership of the India Mission as I have said. I made a long speech not reported. Dear Watson has been rejected a? Con- vener, Herdman appointed. This is of interest merely as showir g the contest between the parties in the Church. These are the Ultra-Evangeli- cal and the Liberal." Tims ends the journal he kept so faithfully througli his busy life. On the same day his birthday festival was held with a joy that was shadowed by haunting fears of coming change. His worn and shat- tered aspect, and his sad, tender bearing, suggested painful forebodings to those who loved him, and who could scarcely refrain from showing their anxiety. On the following Thursday he took his mother and aunt for a drive in an open carriage. The day was treacherous, and, before they returned, the bright sunshine, which had tempted them to go out, departed, and a piercing east wind came on. In his anxiety for his delicate aunt he wruppeil his own plaid round her, and exposed him- eelf to a chill, wliich, in his broken condition of health, proved fatal. Wiien he came home he was seized with a shiver, followed by an in- tense pain in the ciiest, and for the next few days experienced extreme BUiTcring, coni-.>incu witli overpoiveruig altacko oi sickness. He spent some hours that evening with his mother, and aunts, and sister, who )t of these hat Chris- place' for But others ath in the Syllabus ion, try to I whole, — ee it, and iiV"e ignore ad turbot. b Church 1 om India, 2te, as old nism, nor , nor Low le future ! or three liink any ; the com- id liberal- ivs of the tween the ; but not 3 said. I id as' Coii- Dwir g the Evangeli- jy life, that was lid sliat- eboding3 showing r a drive are they go out, / for his sed liiiii- '^ed fatal, y an in- extrenio ie spent iter, wlio mS DEATH. 443 resided a few doors from his own hou^ ^'^^^ '^"^^ '^^^^'^Y eating tlie cessaSt?. 1 -^et^.^!";; T '' '''" i ^1- ^"^^^^ '^^ ^"'^*- spoke of liow delight ul^woXe to H^ ^^^'^ '^ 'i'-' ' ' ""'' stadt, and how he would enT/v six iL 1 h ' '^^V"'-n ''^^''" *° ^^'^"'^- his books "^ ^ '^"''^'^ ''^''^ '^'^th las family and i 444 LIFE OP NORMAN MACLEOD. Tlie next day he wag very weak, but on Saturday the doctors found him considerably better. The birth of his brother J )onald's eldest son, which occurred that morning, took a strange hold of his mind, ana when the father called for him he found liim Idled with solemn thoughts suggested by the gift of this new life. He was seated in a stooping position, his elbows resting on his knees, to relieve the pain in his chest, and while he spoke his eyes overflowed with tears, as witli broken utterance he touched on what had always been a con- genial theme : — " Christ spoke of the joy of a man-child being born into the world. He alone could measure all that is implied in the beginning' of such an existence. A man born ! One that may know God and he witJi Him forever. A son of God like Jesus Christ — how grand — how awfully grand !" * That evening he was so much better as to enjoy music, and his daughters played and sang some of his favourite pieces, — the " Marclie Funebre" of Beethoven, with a part of the Sonata ; Mozart's " Kyrie Eleison ;" " Ach wie ist es moglich ! " " Nearer, my God, to Thee." He was greatly moved by Newman's well-known hymn, " Lead, kindly light," which, strange to say, he had never heard sung before. Every word seemed so appropriate that he made his daughter sit beside him that he mi!,ht hear her more distinctly, and he shook his head and bowed it with emphatic acquiescence at different passages, especially at the lines, — " Keep Thou my feet : I do not ask to see The distant scene : one step enough for me." On that night, as well as on the previous one, his brother George sat up with him. On the Friday night he had suffered extremely, but he was now slightly better. He had snatclies of sleep, often rose and walked through the room, sometimes indulging in bits of fun, and shaking with laughter at sallies of wit which were evidently intended to relieve his brother's anxiety. Sometimes his mind slightly wandered. More than once he engaged in silent prayer, and after one of these still moments he said, " I have been prayii.g for this little boy of Donald's — that he may live to be a good man, and by God's grace be a minister in the Church of Christ — tlie grandest of all callings !" He described with great delight the dreams he had been enjoying, or ratlier the visions wJ ich seemed to be passing vividly before his eves even while he was s])ea)dng. " You cannot imagine wliat exquisite pictures I see. i never beheld more glorious Highlands, majestic mountains and glens, brown heather tinted with purple, and burns — clear, clear burns — and above, a sky of intense blue — so blue, without a cloud !" Ho spoke of an unusual num]>er of friends, and remenil)ering that the Queen was then leaving Balmoral for Windsor, he prayed aloud for her and her chiUlren. • Til sniiie uewspain'V which antiouuced the birth of this boy, Norman, contained the news of liis unck-'a death, \ HIS DEATH. 445 Seeing that his brother was anxious that he should sleep, he said. leU me aoout the Crimea, and what you saw there. There is nothimr I like so much as stones of battles. If you tell me what you saw you will soothe me to sleep like a child. 1 never could well make out the position of the Flagstaft' battery. Now, just go on !" Once, during the night, he asked his brother, with great tenderness, to kiss him and at another time, when awaking from sleep, he held up his hands' as It pronouncing the benediction in church, and said with much solemnity "May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of trod, and the Communion of the Holy Spirit, be with you all. Amen » bo passed his last night on earth, troubled, yet peaceful, and full of the unselfishness and simplicity of his life. On tlie morning of Sunday, the sixteenth of June, he was so much better that his brother left him in comparative comfort, and when i rotessor Andrew Buchanan saw him some hours afterwards he was surprised at the great improvement which liad taken place. He felt 80 refreshed after taking some food, about seven in the mornino- that he asked his wife to sit beside him while he told lier the deeper thoughts that were possessing liis soul. " I believe I will get better " he said "but I wish you to record for mv good and for our ffoo'd atterwards that in this hurricane I have had deep thoughts of God 1 teel as it He said, 'We know one another, I love you, I forcnve you;^I put my hands round you,' just as I would with my son Nor- -iian, and here he laid his own hand tenderly on his wife's head " I have had few religious exercises for the last ten days. If my son were 111 1 would not be angry with him for not sending me a letter. But I have had constant joy, and the happy thought continually wliispered Ihou art with me ! Not many would understand me. They would put down much that I have felt to the delirium of weakness, but I have had deep spiritual insight." Wlien he was speaking of God's dealings, the expression of his face and his accents were as if he was addressing one actually present. Still more intimately, it seemed than ever, his fellowship was with tlie Fatlier and the Son. He a-ain repeated tliat he believed he would get better, and that his latter days would be more useful than any former ones. " I have neglected many tilings. I liave not felt as I ought how awfullv good God is • how generous and long-.suffering ; how He has 'put up' with all my rub- bisJi. It IS enough to crush me when I tliink of all His mercies" fas lie said this he was melted in tears), " mercy, mercy, from beginning \o end. You and I have passed through many life-storms, but we can say with peace, it has been all right." He added something she could not follow as to what he would wisli to do in liis latter days, and as to how he " would teach his darling children to know and realise God's pre: nee. ' Ho told her once^more to write down all he had said,tliai it n-:igxit do her good vvhcu her own day of sorrow came. He fre- quently said that this visitation was quite unexpected. Some hours afterwards two of his daughters came to kiss him before 446 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. going to church. " He took my hands in both of his," one of them writes, " and told me I must come to see him oftener. ' If I had strength,' he said, * I could tell you things that would do you good through all your life. I am an old man, and have passed through many experiences, hut now all is perfect peace and ])erfect calm. I ]iave glimpses of Heaven that no tongue, or pen, or words can describe.' I kissed him on his dear foi ahead and went away, crying only because he was so ill. When I next saw him he was indeed ' in perfect peace and perfect calm.' " The church bells had for some time ceased to ring, and the quiet of the Lord's-day rested on the city. His wife and one of his sons were with him in the drawing-room, where he remained chiefly sitting on the sofa. About twelve o'clock Mrs. Maclood went to the door to give some directions about food. The sui'den cry, "Mother, mother!" startled her, and when she hurried in she saw his head had fallen back. There Wi\s a soft sigh, and, gently as one sinking into sleep, his spirit entered the eternal rest. ' r CHAPTER XXV. THE FUNERAL. a Tl AD I a wish on so solemn a subject, I would be flkTin«P.i f^ JS J'Se\^s- -^U±t :i£SzB so far assuaged as to allow them to judge calmly tl inl-P Tnfi f J time and manner in which it uleased Him /. % i u °'^ ^^'^ *^^^ behalf of India; and his work in the Church and in the counhvLT nahire did not survive its usefulness ; and instead of behig 1 ept u S 1" l^^r? T'^. i»^«g"iation, might have been the appallinr. conscTur ness of ife slowly ebbing away, his spirit passed, witl^t^ s Z^^^ The news of his death passed with extraordinary speed through tbp k ingdorn, and everywhere produced a profound iJpreSn Z nm^ B.nce Cha mers, was so much mourned in Scotland Peon e who hnd never exchanged a word with him felt and spoke a if a peSnl friend imes tf n'^'° r"^' '"^ ^^'''' ''^'' ^^d de^^ed it the^ dTy ome times to oppose him even with bitterness, were the foremoi toTnl honour to the rich humanity and religion, noblene ^v^2L^l fd rS him above the influence of all party strife. A vague rumour of his death having reach-d the Ouppti ^ha of i 448 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. "Balmoral, Jime YJth, 1872. " The Queen lianlly knows how to begin a letter to Mr. Donald Macleod, so deep and strong are her feelings on this most sad and most painful occasion — for words are all too weak to say what she feels, and what all must feel wlio ever knew his beloved, excellent, and highly gifted brother, Dr. Norman Macleod ! " First of all, to his family — his venerable, loved, and honoured motlujr, his wife and large family of children — the loss of this good man is irreparable and overwhelming ! But it is an irreparable public loss, and the Queen feels this deeply. To herself personally, the loss of dear Dr. Macleod is a very great one; he was so kind, and on all occasions showed her such warm sympathy, and in the early days of her great sorrow, gavi the Queen so much comfort whenever she saw him, that she always lookea forward eagerly to those occasions when she saw him here"; and she cannot realise the idea that in this world she is never to see his kind face, and listen to those ad- mirable discourses which did every one good, and to his charming conver- sation again ! "The Queen is gratified that she was able to see him this last time, and to have some lengthened conversation with him, when he dwelt much on tliat future world to which he now belongs. He was sadly depressed and suffering, but still so near a tei-mination of his career of intense usefulness and loving-kindness, never struck her or any of us as likely, and ihe Queen was terribly shocked on learning the sad, sad news. All her children, present and absent, deeply mourn his loss. The Queen would be very grateful for all the details which Mr. D. Macleod can give her of the last moments and illness of her dear friend. "Pray, say everything kind and sympathising to his venerable mother, to Mrs. N. Macleod, and all the family; and she asks him to accept himselt of her true heart-felt sympathy." Among many valued tributes of respect paid to his memory, but which it would be superfluous to mention here in detail,* there was one that, for many reasons, has a peculiar interest. * Among these may be mentioned the touching allusions made on the Sunday after hi3 burial in so many of the pulpits of all churches in the kingdom ; and of these there were none truer or more beautiful than those spoken in the Barony by Dr. Watson of Dundee, and Dr. Taylor of Crathie. Many kind notices of his life appeared at the time in the Press, among which was an exquisite sketch of his career and character, contributed to the Sfmes by Dean Stanley ; and similarly affectionate and appreciative jiapers were written by Dr. Walter Smith in Oood Words, and by Mr. Strahan in the Contemporary. Addresses of condolence were sent to his family from such public bodies as the Presbytery of Glasgow, the India Mission, the Barony Kirk Session, the llarony Sabbath School Association, the Bible Society, the Sunday School Society of .Stockport, the Scottish Amicable Insurance Society, of which he was a director, the Sons of the Clergy, and several others. A tablet to his memory has been put up iu the Parish Church of Loudoun, where his early labours are still cherished in the affectiouate memory of the people, and a statue is about to be erected iu Glasgow. At Crathie, two stained windows have been placed in the Church by Her Majesty— the one bearing a ligure of King David, and the other one of St. Paul— representing the gifts of poetry and missionary zeal. On the former there is inscribed : — " In Memory of the Rev. Norman Macleod, D.D., Dean of the Most Nobl^ and Most Ancient Order of the 1 lastle, Dean of the Chapel lioyal, and one of Her Mnjesty's Chaplains, a man eminent ill the Church, honoured in the Stale, and iu many lands greatly beloved ;" on the '•rt*4ia^'; Hi iJi W Hh, 1872. 'acleod, so 1 occasion must feel '. Norman d motluu', reparable he Queen icleod is a iich warm Queen so rd eagerly B the idea those ad- ig conver- tinie, and much on essed and usefulness he Queen children, be very >f the last e mother, )t himselt lory, but here was nday after ;hese there Watson of red at the character, ppreciative lan in the ich public ession, the Society of rector, the t up in the •ffectiouate lathie, two bearing a i of poetry ' the Rev. der of the m eminent ;" on the ^ » THE FUNERAL. 449 The Archbishop of Canterbury, with characteristic catholicity of spirit, thus addressed the Moderator of the Church of Scotland :— - My dear Moderator, * '^^'*''''' ''^'^''' ^'-"'"^'^' *'«'^« ^^'^'' '^^^^ » .'' ^^11 yo" *"ow °ie to express to you olficiallv the deep feelinj? hshed Church of Scotland by the death of Dr. Norman Macleod? He was so wide y known m England as well as in Scotland, and, indeed, wherever our mother tongue is spoken, that his death seems a national loss So zeal ous, l««ge-hearted, and gifted a pastor could ill be spared at any time to the' Chnstian Church. While his own people lament that they no^on4r hear his familiar voice, winning them by his wise-spoken counsels, his%vritten words will be missed in thousands of homes in every quarter of the world ; and the Established Church, over which you preside, will deeply feel the removal of one who held so high a place amongst its wisest and most strenu- ous aeienders, " Believe me to be, my dear Moderator, " Your faithful servant, "A. C. Cantaur." It is unfortunately so seldom the representatives of the National Churches of England and Scotland exchange official communications that this letter becomes the more remarkable as indicating at once the wide influence exercised by Dr. Macleod, and the reality of that unity m virtue of which if one branch of the Church suffers, the whole Church suffers with it. His funeral took place on Thursday, the 20th, and was celebrated with a solemnity unparalleled in the history of the city with which his labours were so long associated. The day was of heavenly beauty, seeming the more beautiful that it had been preceded and was followed by days of storm. There was a private service at his own house, for the members of his familv at which his friend Dr. Watson officiated, and from his house to the JJarony church, where his remains were first borne, the streets were lined with an observant multitude. The Barony church was filled with the members of his own congregation, and of his Mission churches, and the venerable Cathedral seemed doubly solemn from the reverent throng of mourning friends and representatives of public bodies gathered there to do honour to the dead. Among those present were Dr. Robertson, Queen's commissioner sent by Her Majesty to represent Herself and the Prince of Wales and tlie Hon. E. C. Yorke. who acted in a similar capacity for the Duke of Etlinburgh. »S^H,!^fif^^i~"''^^'y ^}^^-^? "^''^ ''^^^ ''""« "^ ^^^ brightness of the firmament ; and they that turn many to ri-hteousness as the stars for ever and ever. "-Dan. xii. 3 neve) .a. TuontUs atter his death, his family were surprised and gratified by findins the competency he had provided for them largely increased by thole who had loved him ! *ud tins was done in a manner so delicate, as to make the mention of it here a privilege 29 ^-IfKKXiAilUfCSX^Sm 460 ZIFH OF NORMAN MACLEOD. \i itf ) ^.\, % I \ \ ■ The service in the Barony was conducted by Dr. Burns, the ministet of the Cathedral, and by Dr. Walter C. Smith, of the Free Church, while Professor Eadie, of the United Presbyterian Church, and Dr. Smith, of North Leith, officiated in the Cathedral. When the solemn services were concluded, the cortege was accom- panied to the outskirts of the city by the magistrates of Glasgow, the sheriffs, the representatives of Eoyalty, the senate of the University, and by other public functionaries in their official robes ; by clergymen of all Churches, gathered from many districts of the country, and by the members of various religious and other societies with which he had been connected. These preceded the hearse, and behind it and the mourning relatives there followed a long line of nearly three thou- sand persons of all classes of the community. This demonstration of respect was the more gratifying that it \^ as entirely spontaneous. As the great procession moved on to the sad music of the "Dead March," it was watched along the whole route by a vast multitude, occupying every available position from, which a view could be obtained, and showing by their saddened aspect how deeply the hearts of the people had been touched. One of the most remarkable fe^cures in that crowd was the large proportion of workmen and of the poor, who came to pay honour to the memory of him who had laboured so earnestly for their good. More than one touching testimony was audibly expressed by these onlookers to the benefit they had received from him. "There goes Norman Macleod," a brawny working man was heard saying, as the dark column moved past ; " if he had done no more than what he did for my soul, he would shine as the stars for ever." As the funeral approached Campsie, it was not only met by many friends, but as buciness had been for the time suspended in the tcwn, and the shops closed, the entire population united in paying roc;p?ctto the honoured dead, whose ashes were to rest in the old narish where his early life had been spent. He was laid beside liis fatlier, and as the grave which was prepared for him was discovered, unexpectedly, to be that of James, the two brothers, whose lives had b.^en linked by the holiest of all ties, were thus united m their last resting-place. Ere the coffin was lowered, three wreaths of Immortelles wero placed upon it. The first b^re the inscription, "A token of respect and friendship from Quebn Victoria;" the second, "A token of respect from Prince Leopold," and tho third, "A token of respect from Prin- cess Beatrice." The spot where he sleeps is a suggestive emblem of his life. On the one side are the hum of business and the houses of toiling human- ity. On the other, green pastoral hills, and the silence of Highland solitudes. More than one eye rested that day on the sunny slope where he had so lately dreamt of building a homo for his old age— more thau one heart thanked Uod for the more glorious mansion into which ha had entered. i 4 ! ministet i Church, , and Dr. IS acconi- sgow, the Diversity, lergymen Y, and by B^hich he id it and ree thou- tration of ous. As I March," ccupying ined, and be people lat crowd came to lestly for sxpressed "There aying, as what he by many he tcwn, '^'ppp.ct to ih where pwpared the two ies, were •c placed aect and ;' respect )m Prin- ife. On human- lighland pe where lore thau 'hich ha APPENDIX. i '« A. In a senea of autobiographical reminiscences which he dictated in old aee to one of his daughters, Dr. Macleod's father gives, among ot W the fd lowing amusing and characteristic pictures of his youth :-^ day« of the weetc on horseback, and always came home m^cli fatfiuml^ hi If "''^"n' contrived to give my elder brother and ml a lesson He seUloms&ed ab^^^^^^ the week except something extraordinary came in the way. and t was duS thp ,.r„ cess of slmmg. which generally exceeded an hour, that we were drilled in our I Iffn SZlTZ %7 ^'"t^'^'"-- ^ ^'"l'^^' "tJ^rSll^rn^'/'S Jr Sr' Jy &£ Donald, one of tlie mo.«t amiable and interesting fellows that ever lived was vu eYPonpn^ scholar and superior to his tutor, who, I suppose on that account formeTa ' .rr.f il^ judice against fiim and chastised him unmercifully, and Xn withouTcaSs il fh^; m remote places where there was no one to witness'^his conduct His savaK/treainenf not a L1TU''\ ^'""^ '* "" " "'I"'"* °f ^^°°^^' f''°'» ^'»^h he novei rSv l i wiS not a good scholar, and was much more c ven to nlav than in Qtn.lv v7f t V • i full share of flogging ! This cruel man hll a wond rM ^^^^^^^ ove^Js^anJ t^.k?!,'"^ promises from us tliat we should not tell our pare tsof his con.hlT A «?n • '^™" st.«ice. which deeply impressed me at the tiE"d 1 ch "am ot fot ^b SZ" conduct to light, and caused his dismissal from my father's family *Se asked ,f^ accompany him upon a Saturday to the house of Klllundino/S J one o ti™ K S.lin« h?t°h ' " '""'* ''";r^,^ ""•^ ?^ "'y '"'^y comnanions still alive wfS K„o ^u^^^.V'^'?"'- ""l" ^^'^ •'»" ^^''»«'« t'i« n«w puliic road now runs I w^ dressed in a kilt, but had no hose or stockings on We came to fb« pV, i. "k t Bome w. h man of the wood an.l that lie ha.l lately been seen at the entranc of I f " .f w'"^ ^*"!; "'?f ^ ^'^''''''^ *''''^ «^«'y • "» ^"i''' '"' ordered ine 1™, thmirh belief m the superstitions of the country. I remonstrated as to my inal v to do so i» he dress whu-h then wore ; but ho cut a rod in the wood, with wf i he conoe led n « to procee.l. I did 80, while n 1 my feet and legs were torn and bleedi g from . e ectJ of the thorns. On renehmg the entrance of the cave, what was my ho?ror on se S ^dit^ianon , %lulW S'-.^^^-'"""'"'! >""" /'^"'K '>""' his bed o/straw w? h a a^l ? nigJit-cap on ! Ihit he, In-aring my cues and soh^ addressed me in tlie kindest manner-. nnining mo, for he recognised me at once. Thisdisi.elled n.vf,.,.,. „n,l i " I'.i.L i '""f.r wun nnu in the eave raih.T than return to my comimnion. I told hinrairthatiuufhan '•■ned to me. He roared after the tutor, and vowed vengeance ugninst hin He forZ ne that the tutor ha. taken to his heels in the diree.bn .f the Mans" The goolrdd man . unud «,c m lus arms out o» the brushwood, and insisted that I should go on to f ^52 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. SeSoTtHnTp^r l^-f ^ ™' ^™''^^.? ^•■•^^* P^'"* °f t^« ^*y- This venerable man had for some t Z ti 1 in °'°'''^ transactions as a cattle dealer, and was concealing himself hLlTff ^Mi ' J- ^" a™ngement should be made with his creditors. I readied the house of Killundine m a sorrowful pliglit, where tlie thorns were extracted from ml r Shriiltrducrtf,^' i" ?' ¥'■ '^/"^'^ ^^^^« ^'^^ crueUie:o?ourtu?o/Sug7t 10 iignt, ms conduct to my brother became known, and he was dismissed The nnlv apoogy that can be found for him was. that he was labouring SeJ mental disease^ nis time aumitted ot it (especially during shaving times). He followed a practice which in LJn-*-?'?^^'"-''^^' ""^T^^^S me translate tlie clussics into GaelS. HThiS'se f had an exquisite taste in the selection of vocables, and thus I became a good Gad csciolar ch f 'camVtXlw „Vir '''' '''''''?' ^"'""'^ '''''''^' (graXtr t'o the p™^^ cmei) came to the Manse of Morven, on his way to the Isle of Skye. Mv father hid I'i the irfcan wlr'lV Vf -^T' ''"} ^^^^"^'^^ '"^"' ^^^^^^asa LtinglhJd sol fr finVl, u^Z^ Vy'-^""^ obtained groat renown afterwards in India durin'' the con- S„1I^ • T'PPoo S'ihib and other chiefs. He was frequently and severely wounded Macleod insisted that my father should allow me to go alon,-. with him to Dunrern ami I was delighted at the prospect of visiting the place of which I liS heardCmaSv and MrSSroTcoKf fj ^^'^ ^'■''' ^^'"'^'Ji'^'^ Buchanan, his man of business. Buujur. i-'ampoeii ot bombie, Ins commissioner. We arrived at Loch Bra'^adaln nPTt t\t"itr.^etTe/thro.rr"\r^ Vr ""'^ ^'^'•^«' wuS'cJ^wd^orptotle waS tecksmeToftheM«Xi?lf f ^ ^^''^' ?^ Dunvegan. where many of the gentlemen taiKsmen ol tl e Macleod estates were waiting to receive ua. Macleod was welcomed to the caale of his fathers by Captain Donald MacCrimmon. the rcprrsont^t veTf tlS T^^^X:SSZX(i who had for ages been connrctc7Sf JheTmflJ^ ie s'whi" irriTLtrblJeT''^?''^ T'"' f ^' ^ ^'l","^-^- ^"S* the affecSnftTicl d! hfs casth3 The^nm LS ■.''"'^'^°'''''* '"f ''^"''' ^°'" ^'^''^^ ^o^ths I remained in nis castle. 1 he number of visitors who came there was great— Maclean of Coll Grint the guests I fcJm'd^ *° "'1 ^f'Tr* ^^- ^i'''"' ^^^'^^ ^*t'' niany'others, among we guests. 1 formed a special regard for Major Macleod of Ballvmeanach who had i^nvlf '^'".^"''^'''^ ?"'*'''■ *" *''« D'^t'^'^ ^^••«. an'l who kindly eStiiml me wit many interesting anecdotes regarding the warfare in which he had be n en^" o 1 "One circumstance took place at the castle on this occasion which I think »nrf). recording especially as I am the, only person now living who can at et the r ,di o?i/ Sad?od whi^h'"'^^''?,""'^ '"''''"''^' •^^^"^'"^^^ "' «adic ve?so! rog" dSg \he n^ii y 01 Macleod, which, on this occasion, received a most extraordi larv fulfilment T hi, P ophecy have heard repeated by several persons, and most . " ly 1^1 rSet tint I mwJ, oft oilv'n/ ,1 '';;'•' '"'','■ ;■ !r"j; "''•"= -' ■'• «» "™ '""V or ii *"o . T APPENDIX. 453 'le man had ing hiaiseJf eached the d from my tor brought The only ;al disease; ssons when tico, which limself had lie scliolar. the present father had hcd soklier ig the con- woundjd. egan ; and 1 so many )assage in a f business, adale next eople wait- gentlemen elcomed to tive of the he family, jf renown, f youthful f the clan, red, and a ', brought •oom, and i pro\ ;ded nate kiud- mained in )11, Grant Aberdeen, rs, among who liad I me with id. Ilk worth •nth of it. he family nt. This ret that I )f Knock, link, had Ig almost I tliere is ly remp.iu ' tlie eon- huudred the third ( ' Mne nn hat wiicB le turrets e for thtt Jast time exhibited, then the dory of the Macleod famUy should depart-a great part of the estate should be sold to others, so that a small 'curragh,' or boat, woSld carry all gentlemen of the nanie of Macleod across Loch Dunvegan ; but that in times far distant another John Breac should anse, who should redeem those estates, and raise the powers and honour of the house to a higher pitch than ever. Such in general terms was the prophecy. And now as to the curious coincidence of its fulfilment. There was at that time at Dunvegan, an English smith, with whom I became a favourite, and who told me m solemn secrecy, that the iron chest which contained the ' fairv flag ' was to be forced open next morning ; that he had arranged with Mr. Hector Macdonald Buchanan to be there with his tools for that purpose. "I was most anxious to be present, and I asked permission to that effect of Mr Buchanan, wlio granted me leave on condition that I should not inform any one of the "f I"« °f ^l-^cleod that such was intended, and should keep it a profound secret from the Si i, 1 % ir'"-,'^''l'r'^ most faithfully acted on. Next morning we proceeded to the chamber to the Last Turret, where was the iron chest that contained the famous flaa. about which there is an interesting tradition. "^ " With groat violence the smith tore open the lid of this iron chest ; but in doing sea key was found under part of the covering, which would have opened the chest, had i been found in time Ihere was an inner case, in whioh was found the flag, enclosed in a wooden box of strongly scented wood. The flag consisted of a square piece of very rich silk, with crosses wrought with gold thread, and several elf-spots stitched with great care on diffeient parts of it. » s " ''On this occasion, the melancholy news of the death of the young and promising heir of Macleod, reached the castle. 'Norman, the third Norman,' was a lieutenant of H.M.S. the Qucf^' Charlotte, which was blown up at sea, and he and the rest perished. rpU ITtn a' ^'>V''°^>^': '^'Jlle.l 'Macleod's Maidens' were sold, in the course of that very week, to A^gus Campbell of Ensay, and they are still in possession of his grandson. A fox in possession of a Lieutenant Maclean, residing in the West Turret of the Castle, r! rf"^f"iTn' f''u\ ^ ^T'^^< 'T\ *''"' *" t^i^t «'«« ^'^i^ i" the prophecy alluded t<^ was so tar fulld ed, although I am glad the family of my chief still enjoy their ancestral pa'^sessions, and the worst pur ol the propliecy accordingly remains unverified. I merely state the facts of the case as they occurred, without expressing any opinion whatever m to the nature of these traditionary legends with which they were connected." He also gives an account in these reminiscences of some of his expe- riences while endeavouring to establish schools in destitute places in the Hebrides : — .rl2l \\!' i"'"?"" "^ ^^?* a contention, carried on with great party warmth, took place among the leading nun in Kdinburgh, about the election of koderator to the ensuing General Assembly. When Principal Baird, Dr. Inglis, and otiiers (the leaders of th? Moderate party in the Cliu.rh) applied to me for my support and influence, I replied that I could on no account sui.port then, as a party, for they liad never given me any support hh'! „' flT"'f ''/ Vv t''/'.HiKl'lands. which I had repeatedly Vought under tLir notice, and they iiad declined in an especial manner to assist the efforts which were then being made to obtain a (luarto e.lition of the Gaelic Scriptures, althougli it had been re- pea edy brought under tiieu' notice; and that, after explaining to them the grievance ofhavingonlyaHibleofs.) small a text as a I'Jnio edition, which no one advanced in lite could read, 1 reccivnl lor ans\v,.r Iron, the lea,i..r of that party (on whom I thought I had made some impression its he walked in his drawing-room before birakfast) : 'That IS the brcKkfast bell ; jiist advise your Highland friends to get spectacles.' 1 he su .ject came nnd.| discussion again that day, ancl it ended by the Society for Promot.ng U.nstian Ivnowl... ge most generously coming forward and olfeiing to give us .he long wished for Quarto Volume, to our great joy, and somewhat the annoyance of our opponents. •' " 1)1 . Stewart of Lush was api.ointe.l Convener of the Committee chosen to carry out the resolu ion ami no bett.>r man lor ti.e purpose could bo found in the Church. I and several others were associated with Idm in tlie work, and I did ...v best tn „id t.im • b"* to ruin belongs the i.raue for the i.erlect manner with which it was executed". It was during the sittings of this Assembly that I resisted all the applhuitions made t« me by 1 nncipal Baird to throw in whatever little influence 1 posiiesscd in support of the f^> 454 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. Moderate interests, unless he and his paity would aid us in promoting the education of the people in the Highlands and Islands, where a melancholy destitution of the means of education prevailed. rT-"i.y°j^°* "P ^ P^^^^° supper, at which all the members, lay and clerical, from the Highlands, were present. We drew up an address to the Principal and his friends in which they were requested to institute a scheme for the promotion of education in the Highlands and Isles. "As several overtures to that effect had been forwarded to the Assembly, and would be discussed in the course of the following week, when Dr. Inglis was to bring forward his motion m reference to the India Scheme, the worthy Principal instantly consented to be chairman in an Educational Scheme for the Highlands and Islands, but with this condi- tion, that he should not be asked to speak in the General Assembly. As I was in pos- session of all the facts connected with educational destitution in the Highlands, he put into my hands the " Educational Statistics " by Lord Brougham, which were voluminous and valuable. "I at once agreed to the request made me by the Principal andseveral of my Highland fnends, that I should bring this matter under the notice of the General Assembly. I locked myself up for several days, and with great care prepared the speech I was about to deliver before the General Assembly on this important subject. When the dav fixed for the discussion arrived, the overtures relating to the Indian Scheme and to the" Highland Scheme were read, when a controversy arose as to the priority to be given to either. Dr Cook, of St. Andrew's (the disappointed candidate for the Moderatorship, but a most deservedly popular leader in the General Assembly), insisted that the Highland Scheme should be discussed fust, while on the other hand Dr. Inglis and his friends insisted that preference should be given the Indian Scheme. "After a lengthened discussion, i^ was agreed that I should be first heard. I was accordingly called upon to speak, when I stated that out of personal respect for Dr Inghs, who was my senior and a fatlier of the Church, I should give precedence at once to hun, provided that the Assembly came to no resolution about the Hindoos till it had heard what we had to say about tlie Highlanders. "After the worthy Doctor had concluded his able speech, I brought forward our case at great length, wliich was heard with the most marked attention, and our statements enthusiastically cheered. Never did any one enter upon the duties he had undertaken with more enthusiastic ardour and devotion than did our venerable chairman nor did his efforts for one moment cease till the liour of his death. I had great cause for thankful- ness that I had been enabled to bring this most important subject under the notice of the Church. "It waa agreed that the convener of the Committee for Highland Education, the secre- tary, and I sliould visit the Higlilands and Isles eaWy in the course of tlie foUowinc summer. An apnlication was made to the Treasury for the services of a revenue-cutter" to convey us. Uiis was very readily granted. Cap.iin Henry Beatson, of the Swift was directed to hold himself in readiness to convey us, and to take in stores for our use • with this latter part of his orders, Captain Beatson most amplv complied, as he took on board at Greenock provisions that would have served for a voyage to Australia. "We first visited the Island of Islay, where we experienced princely hospitality from Walter Campbell, to wliom the island at that time belonged. From Islay we proceeded to Jura ; from thence to Oban, Lome, Appin, and Lismore ; there we waited upon the Roman Cathohc Bishop McDonald, wlio received us with great cordiality and gave us letters to all his priests in the north, recommending us to their special attention. We explained to him at great h-ngth the nature of our Education Si^heme, assuring him that the inspection of our schools should always bo open to the Koman Catholic Priests, •nd that no books should be given to the children who were members of his Church except such as he should approve of. Wherever we stojiped on our delightful voyage, fowls, vegetables, milk, cream, and butter and cheese were sent on board, and, where they were not so sent, (Jajjtain Beatson was not shy in asking them. " We visited Coll and Tyree, and from thence to the VVestorn Isles, visiting all the panshes as wo went along, and, after consulting with the proprietors and clergy, and ascertaining all the itatistics connected with the various places, we did not meet with one heritor who did not grant ground for a school-house and garden in the locality fixed upon, '^n Skye I went from Poitree to the parish of Du n vegan t" attend the Com- munion, which was administered in a field close" to the burial-ground of Kiimuir, where •ome of my ancestors and many of my relatives are interred. The scene on this day wa* i t and APPENDIX. "r °^ ^^''^ *^« V^o^l^^^t. It was calculated there we?; ron^iff T^ thousand people present ; and a more attentive and apparently devout congregation I have seldom witnessed assembled together. There was a large tent whn«i°lT/tTf°i??'^ covered with sails, erected for the minister and his assistant Zlif l^^ ^"^J! ''^''^l •''''°*^'^ "^^^'^ ^^""^^ f°^ tlieir own use. The church-bell rang for a quarter of an hour, during which time not one word was spoken by any one in this great congregation. j j «= »" "The day was most beautiful, a lovely summer day ; the place of meeting was admirably chosen, tuere being a kind of ascent on the field, which made a raised gallery. Several smaU romantic glens led to it, by which the people came to tlie place of worship. The sun shone brightly, the winds were asleep, and nothing broke the solemn silence save the voice of the preacher echoing amidst the rocks, or the subdued sighs of the people The preacher, ou such an occasion, has great power over his audience. The Gaelic languaae IS peculiarly .avourable for solemn effect. The people seem enfolded by the pastoral and eraggy scenery around them-the heavens over their heads seem emblematic of the residence of the God whom they worship and of the final home they are taught to hope r'';i, : .^ ^ ^^^ .^^ the voice of prayer ascending from the place where they stand to that throne above from which nothing but the blue sky seems to divide theiii ; and when all the voices of such a vast congregation are united in religious adoration the whole creation round seems to be praising God. I have indeed witnessed the efl-ect of Gaelic preaching and of the singing of the Psalms in that language, such as would now appear almost incredible. •'Standing among the thousands on that day assembled round the old churchyard of Kilmuir-a place hallowed by many tender associations-I never did feel more over- powered. "In singing the last verse of the seventy-second Psalm in our own beautiful Gaelic version, the vast crowd stood up, ai'l repeated the last stanza and rt-snng it with rapt bourhf'^i""'- h occasion the first sermon was preached by the minister of a neigh- tO^^T^ ""'^'^ ^"* *T '^^^^!' Services, at which a vast number of communicants sat. llie tables, a.nd places for sitting, were constructed of green sods, decently covered. I had the privilege of addressing one of these tables, and of preaching at the conclusion a thanksgiving sermon from the words, 'Grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Chnst. When tlie whole service was over, many old people who had known my father and grandfather, came to offer me their affectionate blessin<^. The appearance of Loch Dunvegun that evening, covered with small boats conveying the hearers to their homes, and the crowds of people winding tiieir way among the dark mountains, was singularly striking. j « s tuc uain. "I feel assured that such a scene as the Communion Service that dav at Dunveean has never since been witnessed in Skye, and I greatly fear never will be again. A gloomy fanaticistu followed the breaking up of the Established Church, and perhaps in no pait of the country did this bitternes.s exut more strongly than in the Western Islands. lu Skye especially It led to dividing families and separating man from man, and altogether engendered strife which, I fear, it will take years to calm down. "I returned to Portree to join the venerable Principal and my other friends."' B. A CUACK ABOOT TUB KlUK FOR KiNTRA PotK. First Crack. Saunders. Are ye gaun to lee' the Kirk, John ? John. Deed, Saunders, I am no vera keen about it ; are ye gaun to lee't yoursel' •v. No yet, I am thinkiu' ; what for should I ? I ha'e been an elder in't for t\ twenty years come the winter sawcrament, and it's no a waur Kiilc biit 'a Irnntk bettor'ane'svn' ir, I'll bide and end my days iu't, and if it gets waur, I cam' till't, and until it gets waur, I can aye lee't whan I like. J. Yell no ha'e heord the deputations I'se wprrant ? a. Whtt uie ? Did I ao i if we are no wise it's no for want o' tellin.' hoed in confusion a' this steer /. They're surely de.sperat' keen o' the fechtan thae ministers wi' a' their crack aboat r-"'«^1'*« in accordance wi' the speerit o' the apostles, wha gied themselves wholly tf,. prayer and the preaching o' the word and were aye thankfu' whan they had liberty to do baith, and wha sad that ''the servant B • o'u^?;fdirt1 rV'""'.' '^* '^ gentle. towards a:il men," and '' tSftho' we sJou d f^n fif-ri? *!. i.^J?™"'^' T "^f^ "°*''"'g' ""l^'ss we had that love that thinketh no evil, that beareth all things, that hopeth all tl.i-'- 3 " tiuimbui no t:X^^;i^\^''' '"^^ ^'^''^' '^-P^'^' *^^ ^^-™ "P wiVspeeSerand nlwT S I canna weel understaun't, for there ar« gude gude men amang them. Tliey are r,« If"" T^t]^ ' ^°' ?"" ^'"^ ^^''y ^^""^ ^^^y'" "^ht- I think that pS ging way s a sad snare tae the conscience ; it baith keeps a maa frae aeein' that he's wran<^ or when he sees himsel' wrang, frae puttin' himsel' richt. °' J. It wad be Faither Matthews, maybe, that pit that plan in their head ? «,w fi!*' t'f men are perfect sincere, and gaun aboot. doubtless, to pit folk in mind o' what they think their duty, and o' their richts and preevele<^e8 ^V,f; Wc"^'^ ' ^*'^ "f ® ''°'"'''"'* ^''^ ""'"' tae tell me whan a man's gaun to cut my throat that he s sincere ; and as tae stirrin' up the folk to mind their ain richts thev needna them Tf TrZTL'"' * • *V '^"^ ''' ITT'' ^^^^'F «"'* °°^ ^^'^t the iLt/rs teUn' in Vc ,/l^ Vr iri*,'^?'" ^^^ "^ * ^''^ ^°^'y ye »«e'in'^ keep prokin' at him and roarin* in his lug a' day that he's no weel ; or if he^s in jail, or turned oot 0' his hoose tae the £t hPtTL"f^'*"' ^' *5TP^ '^""".''^^ ^''^''t that he canna be comfortable he kSs sSade h m fhil"'? ' ^"* '^/' f .\'?""'^ '^' V''^"^^ ^''^ ''^^ ^"^^^ * ^°etor can per- suade him tha,the s deean, and mak' lum ruin himsel' wi' pooders and bottles • and if he's E«in '^^'•''^ '^^V'"?'.,'^ ^^^"^^ «''"' "^'^y^«' Pe'^^-^'le him that lie' 'a sLv and tt W dS folf tr;e"rr"^'~ '''- ''''' speaker whamak- the evil, and a- t,utunZ7 ^'"V"'^ l^''>^^' J°h"'/eon see gude on baith sides, and difficulHes on wfll T,l- !f 'f°'^'"' ^^ "o,eneuch tae destroy ; but here comes the Dominie and Jttie SlSes • "^ * '' ""^^' "'"^ ^'''^ ^'* '' "°°' ''^^' f""" y^'"'-'^ "^ the hands J'. I am but a plain weever, Saunders, and no fit tae argue wi' the Dominie, tho' 1 thkTn r '*'•''"' yP t'^e Will, for him and me has mony^ fecht at meall " r's abou S l^n .rT" ' '"* ^^'r "^^ '''•^"'" " the kirk, and sllould staun' up for't. Let us sit toon on the bngg here, it's a grand place for a crack. nomime Good day, Al(>xander— good day. John. a. Je J. Gude day tae ye baith. Will. Ye'll be at yer auld wark, nae doot. Iiaudir/ up the Kirk* iT An ye 11 be at yer auld wark. pullin't doon ? B Indeed, John and me war' jist ciii.'kiag aboot our auld Kirk, and he thinks y.'i-. gaun tae ding it doon a thegither. J. Na. I ken Jini>Hiiiirr olwinf if Mo.'oi-,.. A^ "r.-^ ! r - •• •» Wa rii"'' " "'' '"" ° '"' ""'"'^ '•*"* **^^'°'^ something far wrani' whae'er haes the 1 APPENDIX. 457 yt !■» 1 be forcTd'^ir/ lllw' '^*'^° ' *^'y ^'•' '"''^y far wrong when Ministers of the Gospel can- ne lorced upon reclaiming congregations against the will of the people • when tlip civil Cf "Z P? -^r ^"^ '^' ^^''''^ '"^ the° discharge of her splriSd^; when the State not Christ, assumes to be head of the Church. Whin all power of exSin^ —tjdtr;^^^ elder can cheep noo unless wi' their bidding, and- minister nor ■J ^tn.* L^.f '?'" r''*'''/'' -^'1^ ' /",' ^^'^ ^^'•^ >'°"'" ^'-^y t° ™n aff wi' the harrows. Mr. Brown, tae hear your opinion anent this question. Ye ha'e mentioned monv a bad thing (as ye say) that's come tae the Kirk, an' it's no easy to piek a' the tl.reds ouW SIC a ravelled hank but gif the tae half was true o' M'hat ye Ly, I wadna stay in the n T +^-1 A ' ^^^* *'""^ >''' ° ^'^^ Non-Intrusion question « people I thnnatr+v'"' '^"k "^ ^' ™'"l'*,'', '." ?-' P'''"''^ """"^'^'y t° «>e will of the- people 1 thought this question wis settled in the mind of every good man no haV hfm ''^^1?'''^' "'''/"''" '^'""^^^ ^"" ^ minister 0' a parish if the folk jist say they'll bla k's ver ^'e m nn^hf ''!^''f, •' ?''""' ""^ °°' '"^'"^' ^^'^^ °^ wherefore wi'oot sayin' oiatK s yer e e or ought against him ! "^ ■?• il^l ^°' '"^ the Christian people say no— no it must be. For who dare say yes ? o'the in k rf\T-f T''°l' °' ^Vs Dissenters, but I ne'er kent that it was the law the link, so that it couldna be a Kirk at a' wi'oot it. X». It zs the law ; read from Fir«t and Second Books of Discipline. net kentMir;tatera;i ^greecUiU'r "^ *'"* ^''^ " ^'"" ' '' '''''' '' '' ^'^ ^ ^^^ ' th/uke o'ilZZ^u: °daEs'"' ''"■^^"■' ^"' "^' *'^ '^*^ ^^^ '«""^^^^^' ^^ -" pru^^e InU ~ny il), 'fter'a' ! "' "' ' "'" "^^^' " y°"' "^"^ ' '''"' ' ^™ -^f^'-^ ^^'^ chfp iv"""'- R .^in f/'°k« of Discipline Let us look at them ; there is the first book. 3sten'~ '^fl'^t'^^'^th to the people and every several congregation to elect their S. There was nae Pawtronage then at a', it seems. ihH' • °' } ^ '""T^ .""* "' *''^ Piotestant Church, nnd the people liad a right to elect ./. He was a kind o" Bishop, I tak' it, cremation '''K^!"'^r''"* I'f F"'«-ntcd, after examination, a minister to the vac-^.nt con- Sr^vtlentlv^ Z'n 'r'''" V^'"' 'r''^'—" altogether this is to be avoided, that any mau L;lrL^r¥SBlSSis'J^pSn^ -"^-»-^-- = " *•'-. y« -. is the^Non. no*iir h',« w' ''''^' i'- 7^^?* "■"''. ""y y**' ^^'- ^™^^"' t« t^« '•''St 0' the passage ? Ifa on [o sav "yr .Non-lntrusionists aye stop at that part o' the sentenc'e, for^it gangs fear of r^rnn f '''i'"* "itmsion we call not when the counsel of the Church, in tho nstr^ot tb :„? il ?.' '^\''",'°" °^,*'',' P'^P^"' ""■'■'■^•^•^ ""'° tl'""' '^ suHicient man to mitrH,.l! \ " ^'''•^; '''•'' "''^ ''^ ^""'""^ ^° '^^''"'t l^efore just examination." An' ^r ? iav« ' ';\* f'Ji «^«' t''7,'lau''na reject this man wi'oot "just and suflicient reason," rec.ivpT: „ * ''^ -''f "■ ^" ,'^'""/'«^''"^. by the censure of the counsel and church, to / T& '""" "PP^'J-t-i'^l r:l «l'I"-oved by the judgment of the godly and learned." liberty-lilie ?^ ""* ■^°"'' " i^on-lntrusion. Will ; there can be nae reasons in your fhn^'4f^"„V-'''^/*'" ™ this First Bake o' Discipline was ne'er agreed tae by tlie State : S.l„T •'"..".""'' Y V.V' ■^"■'^ ^■'""' ^'"^ ^'^'^ "' the voluntary way. an' whan she T£d at a' "'^'""* ^°^'"^ ^^^ Establishment, for she wasna estab. JrUl Tak' him, Mr. Brown, then, tae the Second Book o' Discipline, if this ane Hi no please liim. ' vr„, r ,;■"•. -—•--• ..,.,o ....,,!••. n-ihtt liic iiiiuu oi the Church -was m reference to T^oi-Jntrusuin when that book was composed. In chap. xii. it is declared "the liberty 01 the election of persons called to the ecclesiastical functions, and observed without mterruption so long as the Kirk was not corrupted by anticbrist, we desire to be restored. •i:| ■•!?•« ill A "^*i^sst 458 ZIFH OF NORMAN MACLEOD. ■! ) \l^ s. J. D. J. patronage then, they and retained within this realm. So that none he intruded upon any congregation eithei by the Prince or any inferior persons without lawful election, and the assent of the people over whom the person is placed, as the practice of the apostolical and primitive Kirk, and good order, craves. And, because this order which God's word craves cannot stand with patronage and presentation to benefices used in the Pope's kirk, &c., &c., and for so much as that manner of proceeding has no ground in the word of Ood, but ia contrary to the same, and to the said liberty of election, they ought not now to have place in this light of reformations." So, you see, that patronage is "against the word of God," "flows from the Pope's church," and cannot stand with the liberty of election and of consent which the people should have. " Will. That'll dae ye surely, Saunders ? S. I see the tcetle o' that chapter is " Certain special Heads o' Reformation which we crave." But I ha'e been telt, and ne'er heard it contradicted, that the State ne'er gied them this they craved. D. The Second Book of Disciplin 3 was agreed to by the State. But no this bit o't, for surely wi' a' they say against pawtronage they tuik it t I'se warrant they wadna tak' Kirk wi' die an unholy thing,— did they, Maister » "Why — why, I believe they did. Did they fac ! an' yet tliey say that what ye ca' Non-Intrusion couldna staun' wi't ! Will. But do ye no see that if they hadna ta'en the Kirk wi' couldna ha'e got a Kirk established at a' ? J. I see that as weel as you. I see they couldna keep Non- Intrusion in.ane hand and Establishment in the ither ; that these couldna staun' thegither ; but were they no gleg tae baud a grip 0' a' gude establishment wi' manses, glebes, and stipends, wi'oot Non- intrusion, than to ha'e a voluntary Kirk wi'oot patronage,— that'a^what they should dae yet. D. They cannot do it ; for even though Non-Intrusion (as it is in the Books of Dis. cipline) might not have been agreed to by the State,— tho' I say it was— it is yet in the Word of God, and that is enough for me,— for the Church rests her claims, not on her Books of Discipline only, but also on the immovable foundation of the Word of God. S. I am verradootfu' abootthis way o' fatherin' ilka thing that comes into ane's head on the Word ; I ne'er could see ae way 0' Kirk government in the Word 0' God. D. What! you an elder who have in the most solemn manner declared that you believe the Presbyterian form of Church government to be agreeable to the Word of God ! you to speak thus? S. Aye I agreeable tae the speerit 0' the Word, but maybe no found ^"n the letter 0' the Word. Z). But can you think that the great Head would leave no directions to His Church as to its government ? S. Directions ! there's nae doubt he has left directions ; he has telt us that the field 0' our wark is the world, that the seed is to be sawn, and he has appointed ministers and office-bearers for the sawing 0' the seed, and all is to be dune that much fruit may be brought forth to the glory 0' God ; but I quastion if He has gien verra preceese directions aboot the way the workmen im the vineyard are to be appointed, or ab< a' tho various kinds o' instruments, the ploughs, the harrows, that are to be used for cultivating the field, or for workin't, sae that it may bring forth a gude crap. Will. That's queer doctrine I Did he no tell Moses that a' things were to be made accordin' to the pattern gien him on the mount ? /. Wha's speakin' aboot Moses, Ise warrant he was obleeged to mak' a' things accord- in' tae the pattern because he got ane ! aye, a pattern o' the verra candlesticks, and 0' their nobs I And doe ye no tliink that God could hae gien as preceese a pattern o' the Christian Kirk if it had been his wull, that there should bu ae form for the whole world? or as Saunders would say. If every field and every soil was just to be ploughed, harrowed, and sawn doon in the s;inie way? Will. I would think, John, the truth wad be truth in every part ; that if a thing was true in Scotland, it wad be true in every ither part o' the world. /. I would think sae tae. Will, but we are no sneakin' aboot the truth, but aboot the way 0' getten't, and it doesna hinder a man to get the truth as wsel as you, tho' hedoesna clap on your specks tae sce't I Ij. But, Alexander, I think it is hardly possible for any unprejudiced man to read the New Testament, and not to see clear intimations of the will of the great Head of tho Church, in reference to the right inherent in its members to elect their pastors ; or at a^ ^ APPENDIX. 459 :::n^h/rwTSE\;sVb1;rS^^^ - ^« P--* anyone bein,.placed ct, wS; dVyTfind^?''""'"' ''^'* ' '"'' ''^ ''''' '''y "'"'''^ «^* 'i"^^ i'^ tJ^« ^ori o' D. In the history we have of the election of an Apostle, and of a Deacon and in tha •(• That's a' verra full text that ye bae, raaister. th/ A^ostKi DeTcon^: *'^"' '"' ^' *'*^"' '" P^''^ ^^^'^ ' ^^^^^^ -' *^« «!-«- o' «f S /!"'*.'" ^^''P '^°°*'' .^°4 I candidly think ought to convince. We have an account of the election of an apostle in the first chapter of the Acts. It is there said '' And tZv appointed two, Joseph called Barsabas, who was surnan.ed Justus, and Matthifs And they prayed, and safd, Thou, Lord, which knowest the hearts of dl me^ show wheUier S. 1 candidly tpll you that I'm verra doubtlul about it; for ye'l notice in the first place, when It's said "^A^y appointed two," and "^Aey prayed, '' and 'SVgavffS their lots," It doesna say ^Ma did this, the people or the iokes. TlSe again it rH.?Tl*^'*''\f f but Christ; "shew wllether of tlJe two>/oi I^st chSen '' Mv^ninfitTl? f"tK ' ''^'''' ^"'^ ^^*'y; *^^ ^"'i °f Christ was found out byTot! My opinion is, that this was a supernatural way o' choosin' out an office-bearer -ana that 8 no in the Christian Church at a' noo, viz. , an apostle. ' mil It proves to my mind that folk should hae a say in the election o' a minister. J. It proves jist as weel vote by ballot ! T £]ri T °^«i''^ly Stating you my opinion, and you have a perfect right to state yours I think of coiirse that the election of Matthias is intended to guide the Christian cCrch r ^'l This opinion is confirmed by what took place in the electing of a deac^S tl^deron'trtSrT'* ' noo , the only ane I ever kent was aull Jock Morton. h3t^^''f^' *^°?riJ '''^^°"'; nonsense ; mony o' our Kirks hae deacons, and we would fr; nffl" ^'r 111^ °/?- *'.*.^' ^''''°" ^''^^^ performed by the elders, and I think the two offices should be distinct in every Christian congregation Will. And elected by the people. D That I think is intimated very clearly and beyond all doubt, in the history given Z .pV'^f '^'P*'" f .?t'^.t*'- T^*^-"" ''''' ^« ""' doubt that they were electeTb? the people, i^or we read that the twelve called the muUUude and said, "wherefore brethren, look ye out among you men whom we will appoint over this business but ^^Z^rAr''^^'' continually to prayer and the mlSstry of the word!'' and" it is what cante laST ^''°^ ' *^** they elected the deacons accordingly • -S. But a deacon's no a minister, he doesna teach-but looks after the poor; and it was but richt and fair that the folk that subscribed the money should elect frae among t them, them that were to pay it awa ; and when the people pay their ministers it will be time eneuch to quastion whether they sliould elect them i^i,,-!? ™y.™^»"f' f™^ 'e^diu- thatjiistory that had it no been for the grumbling o' the the young men are to hae a say-nane o' the servant-lads die to hae a say-nane but the male heads are tae cheep-as if a' the sense o" the congre- gation was in their heads ; and little sense after a' maun be in them ! for it's no expected them that they can hae sense eiieuch tae gie reasons ; but just tae say. No ! That's a droll way o trying the speerits, and being ready to gie a reason for the faith that's in them tae every man. Noo the veto was nather agreeable to the word o' God as it's laid down by you nor was it agreeable to the law o' the land as laid down by all the iudges. And, If she has got into this scrape it wasna for want o' tellin' and warnin' Monv a time It was said in the Assembly that a' this mischief wad come. Even the gude Dr. Jf ?i^' ^^ \^^t ^I ^^- St™thers, said before the House o' Commons afore it waf passed, that the Kirk had nae powers tae pass this law, and that it wad bring us into confusion! * 1 ii,''"'^ x^*' ''^""■U*^ unlawfulness, and that when the Kirk passed that law she' took the first word o flyting, and that her determination to keep that law. tho' it has been declared illegal, has f)een the grand cause o' her late troubles Will. There ye gang ' rh your Erastianism, putting the law o' the land higher than the hid o' thelf^k*"^ '^ '^""'^'^ ^ '^^ ^'^"^''^^ °^ Christ-making the king /. Hae 2/e g..t into this line. Will, o' calling your neighbour nicknames ; and cram- ming doon folks throats opinions they abominate, and putting sentiments in their tongues they never uttered ? It's no fair. D. Neither is it fair for you to assert that the church disobeys the law and is a rebel ? . They were passed of course by the British Parliament, for the protectioa of the Church of Scotland. S. The British Parliament! is that a ceevil body? D. Undoubtedly it is ! you cannot suppose it an ecclesiastical body ? S. VVeel, surely the Acts o' a ceevil body are ceevil Acts, and whatna court but a ceevil court should explain them ? D. but you will observe that these Acts refer to spiritual and religious matters. J. Sae do the Acts aboot the Sabbath-day ; for wasna Tam Speirs, that ne'er-do-weel, afore the Shirra, Friday was auglit-days, and tried by him for breaking thae Acts. D. You observe, Saunders, what I before said was, that while the civil courts should interpret these Acts, the Church Courts should interpret them as well. fFill. And that's but fair play. If twa folk war disputin' aboot a march dyke, it's surely richt tliat the ae man should hae as muckle say aboot it as the tither ; and sae whan the Kirk and State differ aboot their march, it's but fair the Kirk should hae a say aboot it as weel as the State. J. Aye, Will— and baith should gang tae a third pairty— the ceevil courts, that ex- plain a' bargains, and refer the matter tae them. But ye wad like the Kirk tae draw her ain march wi' the State, and naebody tae challenge't wi'oot his being caad an enemy tae the Headship ! S. Weel ! I hae nae objections as an elder, that the ceevil courts should hae the sole power o' sayan— no what a Kirk o' Chrut should teach or do, that nae power on yirth can say— but o' declaring what preeveleges tlie state has promised tae gie the Kirk o' Scotland as an establishment, and what she has pledged hersel tae dae while established. I ken mysel that I liaena the education nor the knowledge tae ken law— far less tae gie a vote against the judges and the lord chancellor aboot the law o' the land. Nor do I think I'm gaun against the headship in this : for I ne'er ken t that tae explain Acts o* Parliament was ane o' the preeveleges conferred on me as a Christian man. And let me ax— if the twa courts hae the richt tae explain the verra same Act— what's to be dune if they gie twaineanings tie't? they maun baith be law ? hoo can a man serve twa maistersf J. Na, that's a truth. If the ceevil courts say the Act means sae and sae, that the craw is black; and if the Kirk Courts say it means sao and sae, that the craw's white; and if I maun obey the law, and if my gude name, and my comfort, and the comfort o' a' my family ; na, maybe the peace and welfare o' the community and kirk depends on my sayan whether the craw's white or black, what i" the world can I do, when I want tae dae what's richt ? D. Let the Church Courts follow out their interpretation with spiritual effects, and let the civil courts follow out their interpretation with civil effects, and this prevents all clashing. S. It's a guy confused business ! and I w under hoo folk are sae mad at one anither when they differ on't, and hoo some o' the lassocks and lads are sae gleg sure aboot it ; and abune a' hoo they would ding doon a Kirk aboot sic difficult quistions. But yet I canna see hoo your way can keep the twa Courts sundry ; for what if each o' tliem bid a man do t.lie aaine thing ? And I'm tt^l't that this is just what they did. The ceevil courts in explaining the law, said tae the presbyteries o' Strathbogic and Auchterardei, "Gude or bad, the law wthat ye are tae try the presentee and no the Ibllis, and if y« 1 . . 1 APPENDIX, 46a J . Then the Kirk Courts said : 'The law is that the/o?^8 are tae try him, and if they are no pleased, ye are tae hae naething tae do with him ; thaVs the law; the a-aw's white!" Black It IS ! says the Presbytery o Strathbogie. " Gif ye say sae," says the Kirk Courts, ' doon wi your ishences, and awa oot o^ your parishes. " "We say sae, " savs the presbytery o; Strathbogie "for we think the ceevil courts ha. alane the richt tae tell us what s the meaning o' an Act o' Parliament. " " Richt," says the ceevil courts ! l«t " "f/P/"*^'^* y« '" y"^,"; Pa^shes, and no let ye be put to beggary for obeying the law. P« «;««"« white r says the Preabytery o' Auchterarder, '' and we'l no try the presentee. Wrang," says the ceevil courts, " we'l fine ye for no doing your duty. «°i?' J''P'"^- * T1 ,}inlawfully frae the I)ari8h. " " Richt, " says the church court^ and neergie in that the craw's black, for if ye dae ye'U bo enemy tae your Kirk.'' Say what ye like it's a bothersome business ! D. But I have a practical question to put to you, Saunders. Supposing the civil courts were to command you to do anything contrary to the law of God, would you as an elder or a member of the Church obey it ? 'J Will. Ay, that's the question. 8. Hoo can it be a question with a Christian man? Surely even a babe in Christ kens that it 13 his duty, first and foremost duty, to obey God rather than men, tho' these men should be members of Parliament, or members of Assembly, statesmen or church- men. J. Weel done, Saunders ! D, And what would you do then, if you were put in this position, the civil courts telling you that, as an office-bearer in the Establishment, you are bound to do something, which you think contrary to your duty to Christ ? ^J' A^°"i^ ^?^® the Kirk, I wadna try and break the bargain ; but I would say tae the state. The bargain s a bad ane, and I'll leave your service and be a Voluntary, and then 1 can mak a law the day, and change it the morrow. _ i). Leave the Church ! when you are acting agreeably to the mind of God, and obey- ing his most holy word ! Is that not giving up all spiritual independence, the right to act in spiritual matters, uncontrolled by any power in earth. S. I believe the Kirk has perfect liberty and spiritual independence to do the wark she promised to do, to teach the doctrines she agreed tae teach as an Estahlishcd Kirk, but that she has nae power tae gang beyond that without becoming a Voluntary Kirk D. You surely don't mean to assert that a Church of Christ on becoming Established can give up a particle of that liberty which essentially belongs to her as a Church of 8.^ Certainly not ! but it's maybe no easy to say what liberty essentially belongs to a ; but I ken this, that there s mony a thing she might do as a Voluntary K *^'' ' --- —--7 — ^-v^ ..^iv.,.j, „ wiiiig one ijiigiii, uu iia il yum, ' rrr' ,, r ^ <^oinpl«teIy oot her power to do as long as she is an Established Kirk, Will I think ye'll no mak that oot, Saunders. • ^'x ^^n "r° *'^ *'*^ "^^'^ *^'^* °"*^' ^^^ ^^^ spiritual independence to ehange ae doctrine in the Confession of Faith ? hae we spiritual independence tae put awa patronage » tae gie the election tae the people ? tae put down ony o' the Kirk Coorts ? or tae pit up ony mair ? Hae the ministers power tae draw their stipends, and tae preach whur thev please ? •' Will. We surely hae. _ S. We surely hae na as an Establishment : nae doubt the Kirk o' Scotland might mak' a thae changes the morrow, but she would be nae langer the Kirk Establishment She maun gie up her connection wi' the State, or be bound wi' the Acts that made her an established Kirk ; gie up her bargain or keep it. Will. But if the Church cam' to the opinion, that ony Act was against the Word ot God, would she no be bound to disobey that, or would she hae nae leeberty tae change it « S. No ! she would hae liberty to become a Voluntary Kirk, but she could hae nae liberty as lang as she remained in connection with the State to change the bargain without the State agreeing. Do ye think, that if the State had agreed to the veto law, that the Kirk could hae changed that law the week after and gien the power the folk to elect the ministers ? if the Kirk can do this, I kenna what's the gude o' bothering itsel' to get Acts o' Parliament at a'. J There's a hantle o' talk aboot the Kirk said this and the Kirk said that ; but after all, I'm thinking it just means, that some ministers in Edinbro' said this and that, and they seem tae think their mind must be aye tho mind o' Christ ; as far as I can see what they're wanting is, that the State shouM gie them their manses and glebes and power, and to pass an Act tae let the Kirk do whatever ske pleases. ACM^a 464 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. y M D. I must confess, Alexander, that I think you are wrong in regard to spiritual inde- pendence ; the Church of Scotland should be every bit as free as a Voluntary Church S. I canna see hoo it's possible as lang as there's ony Acts o' Parliament aboot her " I'll tell you in ae word my mind on't. I hired a servant on Friday last, and I made a bar- gain with him, that in winter he was to thrash sae mony hours in the day ; he agreed to this, and 1 hae the bargain in my pouch ; noo niavbe some day when he's thrashing some the tramping chiels will come smoking their pipes aboot the barn-yard, and say Ye re a poor slave, thrashin' awa' there instead o' walking aboot the kintra and eniov- mg your freedom like us ;" noo 1 kenna what the lad might say ; as he is no wanting in gumption, may be it might be this, "Lads ! I was ance independent like you, but I had nae clothes and nae meat, and was aboot tae wander frae place to place tae mak' a fend but my am free consent, I made a bargain wi' the farmer to do a particular work ilka day, and /n?n. iwlepe.ndcnt na lamjer except to keep my bargain ; for I bound mysel' by ^^' ^V, w}- ^^ slavery, I would advise you tramping chiels tae be slaves as fast as ye can 1 Ihis would be speaking like a man of sense, but maybe his acquaintance mi^ht put clavers into his head, and he might come to me and say, " I'll no trash in the barn ony rnair " What for ?" quo I. " Because," says he, " I'm no independent ! I canna do what I ike ! "1 l.en that," says I, "bui it was yoursel' agreed to the bargain." It s a bad ane, says he. " Bad or gude," says I, " a bargain's a bargain, and ye maun keep it ov Ice my service." What would you think o' him if he would say, '' I'll no lee your service, I'll eat your bread, but I'll no do your wark !" And this iust ex- plains the sang aboot the spiritual independence o' the Kirk ; the feint the hate do the ceevil coorts ™*^"-'"'^' ■^'■'' ^^^-'^ naijse, and stipend for the gude o' therarish A . Ii ' ^" ^' 8'«n « K>'in glebe. Kirk. Oh ay, says the State, tlL ma^' ami if tin. f''"'''''' "° '^J*^^^' '^ •''«?'^ ^^'^ «.'ntee be rejected by the presbytery and if t U V "''J^ctions are gude lot the pre- tiie people are no lilcascd \otih,ll ' .- , ^ '^^' '"^ ^"'^^ '^t him be imt in ■ avl if t^-^k. weit!^ri'^.t^':s^:!;vs'?ho'^T'^^*'';=';'^'^^^^^^ '^"^^-^^ ;1..V-130 years since the last barg u,!! ' v ^,' . J f /^^''^f ,^"' f'"" ">ony a year and viik rue. and thocht the bargain So a Km 7al^ ^ 1'''''m'^'^ ^H''^'J'>? ' ^"^ '" 1834 the to the Voluntaries that she was aS fr« n. ' "''"V'^"^' f "'"' '"'"^ -^y^ ^'■'" Ira^gin' kind 0' sly way o' iinkini: the SH^^^^ i"''' '*"'"*''« •"^^'^^l the V,to law-a to the Pr^sbyt^ry anil ax^s uTem f "ry im ;nd'':::'in «*"^ l^^r-'-^n^ation and come says the Presbytery, lad, thue d t y s a e "bj"'' J J'.IT"^, '* f\t^^' VfrisU. Na. „a, think o' ye. Ifs no fair, says Ihe bu InM'll ul^ « . *'"' ^"^^ **"'* *"•'' ^^'•"^t they and they a' glower at him, llr tve d 1 ."e .;.,.,. ? !" ^'T "^"^^ J"™^''"'^ *" t''-^™' they for the patron ? No a dockni So f u v ^ i ^"', ""!""''' """' ' "'"1 «'"it lare be aff tue his 'mither if he lik' N o sae fl 7s s th ' I'n'V'"^'-^ I'' ''""' '^'"^ ^"'^ '"'" *'*' tery and aays. ,h,,t they ,„..,„, see if he U It ?;r , ' ®",.l'f """'^'^ *" ""' ''''•■^''y- '''° °°* "' y""- I'l'"-^'. law Bays that tiu'.m, and no the f . k a e t o f v v! '7 ""'.f'""" "^'^'"'^ ''*^^' ^ fo"" the «ang doon tae the Presbytery wi' ,,',;, .ohm, ,^ ^,! "' T. u \" "'•' "* '""•■ ♦'"' 1'1'»"<.~- loon, and they »ee on h^ . nniT el Ln •^'' ?'"/ *'" *''*"'» ^l'''^' «" 1'^' «'" K*< paw tron ; so he and fhe 1 S L , ,, !. '"^ '" "" ''"■'". ,^'' "'" «"« that, «ays the siii.T a« ♦!." .■"•1-.- «-i--' 'i h''''^. '"..""' 'ourt o »es.sion. and tlm Kf't "n,i,J .i _.. . di 466 LIFE OF NOMIAN MACLEOD. > I business, and ^if the Lords like they may gie him the stipends ; but if he gies mair gab, they'I tak liie lishence frae him. But they say, says the lad, they canna gie me the stipends till ye open the door and ordain me. We'll ne'er do that, says the Kirk. I ken, says the pawtron, that nae power on yirth can mak ye do that, but certies ye mauu gie a compensation for the injury ye had done me and the lad, and surely ye'll say that's ceevil effects I D. After all I have said, and after all you have heard from the various deputations, I see it would be useless to carry on this discussion longer, — my mind is made up. 1 grieve to think it, but I fear it will be my imperative duty to leave the church establishment, to go out with those noble men, who are making so many sacrifices for conscience sake, and to give a Free Presbyterian Cliurch for Scotland. J. As tae what they'I gie to Scotland, that's no ken't yet ; but I see they're trying tae take a gude Establishment frae her, — and whatna sacrifices are they makin'? Will. Sacrifices! Castin' their manses, glebes, stipends, and a' tae the winds. t/'. I am tell't that they are gey an' gleg aboot the siller, and desperat tae get it ; they say they are tae hae a central fund in Edinbro, and taa gie a' the ministers that gang oot wi' them £100 a year, besides the tae half o' their ain winnings. It'll be a gran lift to some o' they Cod Sakker chiels. D. Quoad Sacra ! S. A hunder pound a year I they'll ne'er maun tae keep an Establishment for Scotland. X>. I am not afraid of it ; the rich will give, the poor will give ; for the old spirit is up; the Blue Banner is abroad, and the whole world will see wliat Scotland can do. J. I would rather see't tliiin hear tell o't. Will. See auld Air. Smith in this verra parish, what he has gien. J, Aye ; for the body's dospcrat keen in the business ; but think ye will his son Jock fjie when he's dead and gaiie ? Na ! I mind ance Dr. Chauniers comin' here, and a gay thick way he has in his tiilk, tho' folk that understan' him say he's gran; — it was at the church extension time, and he and them that were wi' him proved hoo the Establish- ment, wi' a' that it had, ai'd wi' tho thoosands that it was liftin' every year (and I'm thinkin' they got £300,000), and wi' the help the Dissenters was gieing them, they couldna maun tae supply gospel ordinances tae the kiutra ; and think ye will they maun't noo withoot an establishment, wi' a' their bawbee collections? If they do, I can only sae thers hae been a haiitle o' braw speeches cast away ; and if tliey dinna, it's no them but puir workin' men like me, that will be the sulfcTers; for what care I to haetheelec tion o' a minister, when I'm ower puir to hae ane at a'? D. Stay in then, and bring back the reign of moderatism and of darkness, and see our great schemes, the glory of the Church, destroyed, and behold our national Zion become a desolation, a hissing, and a proverb. When she has deserted her great Head, t is time for me to leave her. Will. An' for me tae ! S. Andgifa' ye say was true, orhadae particle o' truth in't, it wouldbe timeforusn' tao gang ; but ns the apostle says, " to him that thinketh it is unclean, to him it is unclean; but let such man bo fully persuaded in his own mind; let us not judge one another, for we must all stand before the judgment seat of Christ." Let me 8{)eak freely tae ve, Mr. Brown, before we part, — yo nae said ninny things that grieves my heart. As tae tha reign o' nux'.eratism, nae doubt Scotland was ance what she's no noo. I mind mysel a time when there was na sic faithfu' preaciiin' in the jiarish kirks as noo; but (iod in His niorcy, — for tae Him, and no tiie tiiis set o' men or ti:at, be tlie praise — breathed by His Spirit on this valley of dry bones; and 1 noo ken mouy men whom ye ca' moderates, be- cause they're no convocationists, that nre God-fearing, zealous men, kent and loved in their ain panshes, tlio' they're may be no in the mouth o' the public; and I ken mony that are foremost eneuch in this steer, that in my opinion, hae verra little o' the meek- ness and gentleness o' Christ. Ye sju-ak o' our schemes, and ye may woel ca' them the glory o' tlie Kirk ; but do these no prove jist what 1 say ? Wha got up the sclw'met, for the flindoos? Dr. Inglis, the head o' the Moderates. VVha got up the education schenit) for the Hit'lands? Princiiial HiiinI, a Moderate, Wha was dwcr thi? (lolnnial Cliurch scheme in (ilasgow? I'riiiciial M'Farlan, a Moderate. Dr. Chaumors, u gude man, • nd a man 1 lo'e, tho' 1 tliink he's wrang, wmh ower the ither une. /. He's the only ana o' them a' that rued, for he's for puttin' down the kirk noo a' thegither. S. Whist Juhu. Am lae the Kirk dt-serting its great Head, Uoit forbid that that 'X iihould be true 1 I deiiv it, and iini ashamed tnat men that shouhl ken better should put such disturbing thouglits into the minds u' weak Christians 1 hae heard tht- sang aUir» A APPENDIX, 467 4 S\i;ff.KS-S^^^^^^ was aye their sough at th. ment ; the Auld Lights took up t?e same sanrwhenS "if'if^t^I "'H'^^'" '''''^• tae my lugs, so it'll no make me leave the Kirk ni VJL • ^^^ .^"^^ ' '* « ^1° "^w tome IS dear ! I was bom agin within her mils • so Iri "" ^""^ ' . "'^'' ^'^^''^ ^l«st are sleeping outside o* them.^ I 1 ae been Ztxt'JtZl T' ° i^^^onny bairns that gnn^age wi' her ordinances, and iTno b eak unl ll p *"'^ comforted during my pil- power-and it has ne'er been taken fae n.evpf^fl 1^°'""'"''''?'^ ^""^^^ ^« ^'-^ng as I hae fane ; and as lang as Christ ?si>reLh'5 vitMn~her w'J Tm ^""t """^^^'^ '^"^ ^^e pro! her, tae Jielp tae purify her andV^l n.nv i! , ''"^' ^ *^ ^**y t'le help tae reform and prosperity. ^ ^ ' ' ^"'^ *''' ^"''y "^ ^^"S '^^ ^^I'^ath is in my body, for her peaS folk: C riVo'vofn'ntlT""' "'' ' '''"" ^'^^^ '^"^ ^^ "^^^ = ^'^^ ^--nters are gude rci^ettS?^:^;^'^^SS^!^S^- ^- Kirk in the parish ; they a. the best Wi'V^SeJie bei;spoke;::'^t??e::!L\S^S^^'^ '"* ^S^ ^^^^ ^^* -« -» mtaetheirKirkiwi-ahaudo'thrrovenanfJ ^^i'^.",-^^^^ ° ^''"'i*^'' than tae get but this is nae pass at th dr doo 12;, Inf the ^^i'^'^'' / ''''' '"'-'"' *''"* '^'"^J^"' ! twa or three nnir. or be keepit oot ^ TZxZn \l 1 '", r '"^^ V''} '-''^venant, and putting the traditions o' our foiL-S 1 a S„' •- V"w^^^^ It's black popery, wooden Kirks, nana o' thein for me . tC'^lS \ *''^, 7-°''^ ° ^°^'- As tae your mer.-I'U stick by the aulLtone and HmPnnr'i ■''''* '^'^'^ "■'7'"*'^''' ^"^^ l'<^^tt in sim- deal langer than a' your timbS b%''ln^ i™'' """^ ^ ™ '"'^*'^'^" '^ ^^'11 no stan' a hantlo r^ev''Z^:tSk^;^:;^^^; ^V^^ ckn^our. and evil speaking." Let us as tae the «^m,w, we a' ag.;" L°e a Ife' »V" "'' \^^^^\oi Joac^J Though we diffrr o- the Church o''christ"fscot 2l and le S Urlr''"^) > ^''^"^^l"^" '"«"' tJ'« g"'•" Z f;"''' ^^'\ ^"thrie. " in things walk, and Oh ! spe.M the time £'n we sh'a l.n . i, \T'' -^'"l'^'' ^'^ »« thus above ; when " Judnh shall no more v^x Saim ,n ^^'' ' '"r * "\ ^f"*''"^ "^^''^'^^y neighbours shake Imnds ! Lpluaim, nor Lphraim Judah.^' Friends and /ra;. Ti en 's my haun tae ve We h^! h' ''"'^ """"■'' "* '''^ coming^ " and it's right wo slmSm forS "who we n" ""'' '"r''""''" ""'' f^'H«^v.connnu„i,.a„ts, like a pure Kirk. ^ '^^^ ^^ "'•-' ""'^ '^''""i «^« ^^rvo. " But yet I wad remarked tni a ledjiy that ancri'Sl^It^S ye a- i lTi.ey «hake hands Jnd P, JK l^ S^ ^ cS iJc^ 'i^lS '^^^ ^'' tL68 , f LIFE OF NORM AN MACLEOD, C. Address presented before landing at Bombay. " To the Reverend Nobman Macleod, D.D. '•Steamship Rangoon, "25tl.Nov., 1867. "Reverend and Dear Sir, " We, the Captain, Officers, and Passengers on board the steamship San goon, cannot bid you adieu without expressing our grateful sense of the pecuhar privilege we have enjoyed in your society and your ministration. ->. "As being all of us connected with India, we cannot but feel and believe that the visit to that country of one who exercises so great and beneficial an influence on public opinion at home must be productive of the greatest benefit. "We all most sincerely unite in wishing you and your colleague Dr. Watson a pros- perous journey, and a safe and happy return to your country and families. "We beg to remain, "Reverend and dear Sir, " Yours gratefully and affectionately, (Signed), "D, RoNALDsoN, Captain; Campbell Keir, Solicitor; G. A.Leckie, Col., B. Staff Corps; George Campbell, Commissioner at Nagpore; W. D. Robertson, C.S., Bombay; M. Moll, Friend of India Newspaper ; A. A. Munro, Major, Benp"' Army; John M. Champion, Major, R.E. ; J. H. B. Hallen, E. Army, Ins tor of Garrisons ; Wm. Thorn, M.D., B. Army; John D. Fuller, Libut.-Co .., R.E.; A. E. Haighly, B.A., Revenue Survey; H. E. Bright, Esq., ot Ensign; Thomas D. Rogers; James Sheldon ; Jessie M'Culloch; Frances Marriott; Anna M. Lynch ; S. M'Culloch, Barrister; George Birdwood, M.D.; Arthur Phelps, Capt., B. Staff Corp?; M. Edwards, Ben. C.S.; Helen.! Sorter; F. J. Oliphant; J. H. Champion, Lieut. -Col.; Frruk. Jas. Parsons, B. Stafif Corps; Maria Berthon ; Chakloite Webb; Jeanie Cameron ; Alice Thomas ; R. A. Klpuinstone, Major, B. Stafi' Corps ; John Wm. Yorke Fjshbourne, M.D. ; William F. Best; Diana J. Walvon ; G. Boileau Reid, B.C.S. ; Mary S. Walker; J. W. Sanderson; M. J. O'Kearnv . Wm. Morlahu ; Art. Rich- mond, Assist. Surg.; Wm. Fuller, Col., R.H.A. ; M. A. Tapp ; E. Edwards; J. D. Williams; H. A. Williams, Col., R.S.; G, E. Thomas, B. Staff Corps ; Walter Pains; George S. Lynch, Solicitor; \¥. Portkous, C.S., F. Stanobr Leatues, Solicitor; Wm. M. Leckib, Lie'jt.-Col., B5.I. ; J. Baylkv, Capt., 7th Hussars ; J. M. G. Bayley ; A. Y Kennedy ; M A. ISlphtnstone ; J. A. Slater; Agnes J. Hill; Robt. Brown. C.E, ; Janet V. Munro ; W. S. C. Lockhart, Bengal Cavalry; C. A. ■■ C. L. D. Newmarch, Col., Bengal E. ; A. W, Newmarch; Wm. Clon s.. *'»! Knjjjneer; <«BO[mF A^bi'tunot, Capt., and A.D.C; L. B. Halleti', Capi'., ), " .-rps ; W. SI! : Wm B Preston, Capt., B. Staff Corps ; Tho. Ed i ; 1'Jmily J. Tii- , .borge M. Huckebeut ; Stephen H. M'Thrine, Cm j. Ireland ; St. Clair Ikbland; T. S. Ireland ; James VV. Noble, P, and U. !», Bengal ir«''l'UN(»T, ; Wm . .ROROB kIhBLAHD; ; W. BlR- Okoroika ■inn : n. T. iluWDBN." ■)f tho Rev. IV ulUtiittuti Ilis tour to 4b» (Signed), "CAtcuTTA. 8th February, 1868. "J. Farquhar, M.D., Surgeon to Ficerojf. "J. Fayer, M.D. "J. Edmonston Charles, M.D., M.R.C.P. Lond., Art. Obsttt. Prof. R Extract from Address on Missions. voir £3"f; r.peeTt„ITv:?r„rr;eXt' :^1 Ttf ""'«'• t""-" moment that I am addresain^ lim.?^^^ *^ u^xY *"^'°' ^ ^^^^^^ assume for the not thought or inqufredrclfoSTh^^ubjeS""'' *'' "P"''*^"' *^°'^« ^'^ ^»»° J^^ve poputtTou'oL^'SsfrsVoSoOOoTStLS^^^^^ '^"^V^ -t-*. with a the whole empire of Austria- l^rtthi?,^^^^^^^^^ ^^""''^ "umbering more than from the most savage to "he most c, infot i r"-'^ '' °''"P''''^ '^J' ^^"^'^'^^ ^^^^s speaking languages wLchdiffeifrtnelrSr^ l'-""^'""^ '^^'^'^f^' ^^^^ most of them brokei un bv diawll „ "*' """'^ ''' ^''^^''^ '^°«« ^'^^ Italian, twenty separate lL~csESmber?bnHf™"%''' P^'-^Pt'^^H^y *° ^^''"^ P'-^babi; herited a Religion and a ch'ilizatTon S whlV f Tn ^^J'"'/*^ "^ *^'^ people have in- a vast antiquity. Recollect furthe; tiZ t it . f ''■ *° 'P'^^'^ afterwards, from Christianity to^ this g?eat mass ha^ I^o,, «v«f T* n "^P''^''* *^^ *''"*'^ ^"'^ ^^^^ of Church in British liS wSn the memo,?nf r"""^ ^''8"° .'^^ *^^ Protestant Scottish missions is renre^eTito bv Hr ^^^^^ ^ ''""'"^ ""'"l '° *'>«'" "le nge of our aid them in 00^00^0^; h \Xe Srct'^ oommenced them, and still lives to which the missi.)narie8 eniagetUn sueh aZ±, /"^''^'^i '^ yp" c^n, the difficrltics come in the ignorancrand^S ffLnee !.vr^?f^^^^^ enterpnse have had to over- at home, and of timid £ro,?an official's -^J-n! °P^°^'*»'"' «/ professing Christian, tools and instruments vWth Eh to conduorft;.' r ^"*' ^l" ? *™*'' «^ ^^^ ^^''y language, of the reliBi.rs svst mVofTn !V "Pfi'-^s ; their ignorance of the the'pe.ile • the.rtaToVa^B rvtc" Zmi^ettr^T'^r' i'liosyncrasies of in India before aekin7thr lestiWrf ^r 5^^^ ^'-^ "^ present labouring alone I Or, let us e. n.oreover. c.nrluJh ^;ii^/lu^^^ 1^.^'''''^ '"'"'""« annually. Those clergy f have. uu,re,.ve^ comuv.^r;^ h tl^m a V J''''^ ""'''""' """"""y- '''^"'«« ^J^^MX sands of Sun-laySoof tea he™ S «« '^""'^' "2"'"".''"« **' ''""''""'« "^ *»>,.«. deacows, teacheii ef C IriSi "l JX' ^rrn'^ Scnpiuro rea.lers. ciders, and ,^a«od ia dilla^ing a knowlci; "a;;';:;tiZU' a^d i;!X;:Zl^^^:±!^.rr?,«r-": c^e^u^dloc^S'ilX'p'SerevrS'r:; '^" ^J^^^^^I^r^^'^^'-n'ac^oM'^ is. giving not one ..nsslonlr; 1 1 tS V sfey S 'ili ^ Sa l""' ll- "' ^"l'** " ^» twonulhon., none to Bombay or ^^^J^i^^'^^:::^^,^!':^^^'^''^^ fTr^ II f 470 ITFB OF NORMAN MACLEOD. \, 1 West Prc-vmces with thirty millions; none to the Pmjab with fourteen millions; none to Oudh with eight m'.llions ; none to the Central Provinces with six millions ; none to other districts with five millions— but giving all to Bengal, and confining their ministrations there to a population equal to that which they left behind in all England and Scotland, there would still remain in that Presidency a surplus popula- tion of fourteen millions without a single missionary! Without presuming to solve the problem when that blessed period is to arrive in which, having no more to do at home, we may be set free to do more for India, I wish you at present to understand what is being done by us, along with other countries, for thr diffusion of Christianity in the Eastern, as compared with this, the Northern, portion of our great empire. Now, assuming as 1 do that the missionaries abroad are equal to our missionaries — or, what is the same thing, our minititers at home— yet, deducting from their small band of five hundred men those who are advanced in j'ears, and whose day is well-nigh done — those who are young and inexperienced, and whose day is hardly begun — those who have not the gifts, or the knowledge, or the mental habits, or the spiritual power which is required for thoroughly eli'ective work— and deducting also, as I presume we must do, a few who are unfit from other causes, such as sloth or mere professionalism, then we necessarily reduce the number of such men as are able to cope with the gigantic evils and errora of India — men able by the power of their teaching and of their character to impress the obsjrvLiut and thinking natives with a souse of the truth and glory of Christianity. In regard, however, to the moral character of all those missionaries, I rejoice to say that tuir information, derived from every quarter, fully realised our hopes that they were h orthy of the Churches which had sent them forth. Hindoos and Christians, natives and .-iiiopoaus of every rank and class, were unanimous in th>.'ir hearty testimony upon this point, and fully appreciated the un- selfishness of their motives, the sincerity of their convictions, their intimate know- ledge of and interest in the natives, and the wholesomeness of their inttuence upon the whole body of Indian society. Among those missionaries, too, there are some everywhere who, as regards mental power, 'earning, and e; .estness, would do honor to any Church, and who have largely contril)uted to advance the interests of social science, Oriental literature and history, as well as of Christianity, and who have a right to deepest respect, sympatliy, and gratitude from all who have at heart the con- version of India. It is gratifying and assuring to know, also, that the number of missionaries and of their stations is steadily on the increase, while conversions in- crease in a still greater ratio. ' ' I have not, of course, spoken here of the labours or influence of chaplains with reference to missions. In numerous instances these have boon very effective, but they might be greater in muny more. Nor have I alluded to the English bishops, who, as a rule, Lave been, as gontlomcn of learning and highest character, an honour to the Church and to Christianity. " But we have been taking into our calculation the difficulties only on our own side, 80 to speak, in the way of iui])arting knowledge to thj natives of India. Ought we not also to consider the dilliculties on the other side in receiving our message? Of these, ag peculiar to Hindoos, 1 shall have occasion to speak afterwards; but here I would have you remember tliat, in addition to the ditticultie.s common to inert, sloth- ful, prejudiced, and self-satislied people in every part of tlie world,— in Christendom aa well as heatliendom,— to eluuigo any opinion, however erroneous or indeffiisible, or any habit, however foolish or absurd, the natives of India generally, among other hindrances, have presented to them for their acceptance a religion Avholly diflerent in kind from all they or their fathers ever heard of or believed in. It therefore demands time, intelligence, and patience to examine and understand it even when preached to th'jm. It is a roli:don, moreover, whicli they have never seen adwpiately embodied or expressed in its social aspects, whetlier of the cliurch or the family, but only as a creed; and this, too, of a strange [)euple, whom, aa a rule, thoy dislike, aa being alien to tiiem in liuiguage, in race, in foolings, and numners, and wiio have conquered and revolutionized then- country by acts, as they think, of cruelty, injustice, and avarice. " But let us suppoao tiiat the intelligent and oducattd Hindoo has been convinced by English (Mlncation ul the falsehood of liis own religion. I beg of you to realize and to Bynipathize with his dilliculties of another kind, when Christiiinity, as the only true religion, is i)ie8onted to him for his a<:e(:i)!;ince. He has brought his Bralnninical creed ami iiraelicoB, wesiuu' assniiio, under the light of reason, conscience, and science, for their judgment, and he has had pronounced upon them the sentence of condemna- tion. Ht has disuovuib'd that hu haa hitherto believed a lie, and been the slave of • APPENDIX. 471 n millions; X millions; 1 confining Bhind in all Ills popula- solve the lo at home, nd what is nity in the ire. Now, I — or, what jand of five igh done — -those who fcual power )resume we issionalism, e with the liing and of inse of the icter of all ry quarter, [ sent them class, were cd the un- late know- lence upon i are some d do honor ts of social who have a irt the con- number of 'ersions in- plains with e, but they ps, who, as nour to the ir own side, Ought wo jssage? Of but here I nert, slotli- liristen'.iom fi-nsihlo, or nong other ditterent in re demands fireaclied to y embodied t only as a being alien riuored and nd avarice, mvinccd by ilize and to only true ^raluninical md science, condeuina- a slave of • »i I h„,,e,% and ,i„ccr,lj in the Ugh. „, ,™th, .rSd of Ltag jSg <"% ™e™ Chnsfcianity, as a religion whose characteristic and essential doctrines ar3wl?/-«./, 18 but another form of superstition, with false miracles, fa se science and afse e{erv thmg, which professes to belong to the region of the supernatura Thpt ?l ^ru •^' are moreover Jncreased and inte'nsified by'those schooTsTthought wMcTa pretr and as a reaction from the past, exercise such an influence in Europe and America' Their views and opmions are in every possible form reproduced in IiX Tnd take rooi: the more readily, owing to the remarkable inability of the Hindoo Snd whatever be Its cause, to weigh historical evidence, and to appreciate the value of V^/, if h • bearing on the grounds of religious belief. ^^l^'^eciate tne value of facta m their ''If to this IS added the manner in which Christianity, even as a creed has some t^mes wefear, by truly Christian men, been represented or rather mLrenresented with Its doctrines, if not false y put, vet sometimes nnt in n UnLvT rf ^ ^ " In so far as the results of missions in India can be given bv mere statistic.. fJ,P« hhnllfT ^f^-^^r^'T*'' 'linkable care, and pubifshel i.f SSby Sf MulleSs himself an able and distinguished missionary. From these we ^atLr fW thlli ' rcocve a Chruban education at mi.sion school,. A, a mcaT„Tc3 1 a M«f 5 |r^=|„,„;z,i:!tc£f-Sf^^ resiament into five more ; and twenty separate books of the 01c and New Tes^mS =?i=cJir»o;Tr,x"s^^^^^^^^ r:|:x.cTs,r;trr-;^:;;:iV-;r^^ ft,.f II -"^ ""i -"^'''"^ ?''"' ^^'''^ '''^^"^'■^ "^ missioaa on an- mere statistics Not S , rV!r.''7.''Tt'' "' *" 'h' r^'' *^""' ''«^^'«ty with which thesriiave iSn furnS ed or collected, but because of the impossibility of obtaining by this metL i Si impression ot what has been actually accomplished by Oh istiafi m sio" f T > all which the conversions have come are taken into nc. int- alnn.r ^iVi. fi, '"''7^7,.""'^ "' and character of the converts. To ino.st tiiey migl t p ve t ?th- n tl . v "Jlf "'^^^'.'^ proving, as they atlonl no cvideii.,.e of tho^i'il^i^V;. u ts^nlb, "^^r^-^^^^^^^ being more and more etlected by th< ,n on the whole tone ami spirit of Hindf «oc eti as vrepm-ntonj to deeper and more extensive ultimate results. Nevertheless the .^^^^^^^ the real value of the work which has been accomplialiei„ ;^m u'stloL a? ?'r' -"«''"'%-'^ *'- substitution forih.in o5 a hving ti SS' He must look at India an a whole. Now, we are all aware of the vast changes whiS i?l f — m LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. have taken place during a comparatively recent period in most of those customs, which, though strictly religious according to the views of the Brahmins, are now pro- hibited by law, and have passed, or are rapidly passing, away in practice— such as Suttee, infanticide, the self-tortures and deaths of fanatics at great idol-festivals, &c. We know, too, of other reforms which must be in the end successful, such as those affecting the marriage of widows, polygamy, the education of females, Ac. Such facts indicate great changes in jniblic opinion and that the title of thought has turned, and IS slowly but surely rising, soon to float off or immerse all the idols of India. In truth the whole intelligent and informed mind of India, native and European, is convinced, and multitudes within a wider circle more than suspect, that, come what may in its place, idolatry is doomed. The poor and ignorant millions will be the last to perceive any such revolution. They will continue to visit and bathe in their old muddy stream, as their ancestors have done during vast ages, wondering at first why those whom they have been taught to follow as their religious guides have left its banks, and drink no more of its waters, wondering most of all when at last they discover these waters to be dried up. Others of a higher intelligence may endeavour for a while to purify them, or to give a symbolic and spiritual meaning to the very mud and hlth which cannot be separated from them. Men of greater learning and finer spiritual mould will seek to drink from those purer fountains that bubble up in tlie distant heights of their own Vedas, at the water-shed of so many holy streams, and ere these have become contaminated with the more earthly mixtures of the lower valleys. But all are doomed. For neither the filthy and symbolic stream of the 1 uranas, nor the purer fountain of the Vedas alone, can satisfy the thirst of the heart of man more especially when it has once tasted the waters of life as brought to us by Jesus Christ : or, to change the simile, although the transition between the old and new may be a wide expanse of desert filled up with strange mirages, fantastic forms, and barren wastes, yet whether this generation or another may reach the Land of Promise flowing with milk and honey, the people must now leave Egypt with its idols, and in spite of murmurings, regrets, and rebellions, can return to it no more. "When I thus speak of the destruction of Hindooisin, I am far from attributing this result solely to the efforts of missionaries, though these have not only taken a most worthy share m the work of destruction, but have also laboured at the more difficult and more important work of construction. The whole varied and combined ^rces of Western civilisation must be taken into account. The indomitable power of England, with the extension ot its government and the justice of its administration, has, in spite of every drawback that can be charged against it, largely contril^uted to this result. So also, in their own way, have railroads and telegraphs,' helping to unito even outwardly the people and the several parts of India to each other, and all to iiurope. The light which has been shed by the Oriental scholars of Europe upon the sacred books and ancient literature of the Hindoos, has been an incalculable advantage to the missionary, and to all who wish to understand and to instruct the people of India. But nothing has so directly and rapidly told upon their intellectual and morr.l history as the education whieli they owe solely to European wisdom and energy. The wave-line which marks its flow, marks also the ebb of idolatry. This influence will c^ ^\1^u^^ appreciated when it is remembered that 3,080,000 Hindoos and about 5X),000 Mohammedans attend Government schools, and upwards of 40,000 of these attend schools which educate up to a University entrance standard, in which English 18 a branch of examination. These schools have been found fault with because they do not directly teach religion. It has been said that they practically make all their pupik mere Deists. But apart from the ditficulties which attend any attempt on the part of Government to do more, even were it to assume the grave responsibility of de- termining what system of theology should be taught, an logic, that in the end he will be led to accept the whole truth as it is in Jesus. But of one thing I feel profoundly convinced, that the Brahma Somaj, which numbers thousands ot adherents, is to be attributed indirectly to the teaching and labours of Christian missionaries ; and its existence, in spite of all I have read and heard against it, brightens my hopes of India's future. " I would here remind of facts in the history of the Church in past ages as worthy of being remembered, in order to modify the eager desires of the too sanguine as to immediate results, and to cheer the hop.,s of the too desponding as to future results, as well as to check the rash conclusions of those who, arguing from the past history of a few years, prophesy no results at all in the ages to come. As signs of the progress of that religion which, through the seed of Abraham, was in the end to bless, and is now blessing all nations, what conversions, let me ask, were made from the days of Abraham to Lhs Exodus ? How many duiine tlie long night in Egypt ? Yet, each of these iuLervals represents a period as Ion/' aa wliat separates us from the day when the first Englishman visited the shores' of India, or when the Church sprang into renewed life at the Reformation. What, again, of results during the brief period, yet so full of teaching, under Moses, accompanied by such mighty signs and wonders, when tlie Church was in the wilderness ? Why, on entering the land of promise, two men only represented the faith of all who had left idolatrous Egypt ? And yet, when it looked as if all was lost, God spake these words, As truly as I live, all the earth shall be filled with the glory of the Lord.' Recollect, too, what long periods of confusion and darkness followed the settlement of tiie tribes in Palestine. The experiment, if I may so call it, seemed to have utterly failed of educating a peculiar people, and so preparing it for the ulterior work of converting the r?i 1, ''^^*^ chosf-n race ended in captivity in the country from whence Abraham, itg father, began in faith, Ins journey fourteen centuries before. Nevertheless, that race did its work at last ! The first forms of its religious faith yet live, being cleansed from all idolatry since the time of the Captivity, but since that time only; and Christianity, as its flower and fruit, lives, and, after marvellous and stranf^e vicissitudes, IS grown into a mighty tree whose leaves are for the healing of the na- tions, and which is destined to be the one tree of life for the whole world. And so this feature in history constantly repeats itself— a time of activity ami repose, of winter and summer, of sleep and waking, of death and resurrection ; a time of long and varied preparations, with not unfreciuently very rapid fulfilments, like sudden out- bursts of a long-seething flood, or volcano; while these fulfilments become again begmnings of a new and as varied a course in history, ever accumulating blessings for the whole family of man. "Having tlius spoken generally of missions in India and their results, I must pro- ceed more particularly to the consideration of the various methods adopted by mis- sionaries for Christianising the Hindoos. ''But, before we can reply satisfactorily to the question regarding means, we must first have a still clearer apprehension of the nature of the end to be attained by them, involving some knowledge of the Hindoo religion as a system of belief and of social hfe. If we do so, we shall soon learn that we cannot, as is too often done, class Hindoos with other heathens (whether in India or beyond its shores), nor argue from wliat has been done by this or that instrumentality in the Sandwich Islands, for ex- ample, or in Africa, Burmah, or even Tinnevelly, that the same instrumentality will necessarily be as efFectual in Calcutta or Benares. It is admitted, of course, that among all races and in all countries the Truth, as revealed by Jesus Christ, is the one grand means of Christianising them ; but the practical question before us is. What is the best way of communicating this truth in certain given circumstances ? Now, to obtain the true answer to this question necessitates other questions regardincr the character, habits, and beliefs of the people we have to deal with, and regarding those peculiar circumstances, within and without, in which they are placed, which m ■ matei'ially affect their reception of Christian doctrine and life. ''With the risk, therefore, of repeating to some extent what, as bearing on other parts ot my subject, I have already a) hided to, let me direct your attention more par- ticularly and more fully than I have yet done to some of those characteristics of the Hindoos which distinguish them from every other people in India or in the world Observe, in the first place, that they ate a distinct race. I have already said that various races make up thn rxipulatiou of the trrsat i'nntijvis'.t of Hindostan The Hindoo belongs to that [ndo-Cermanic or Arya"n stream of which we ourselves are a branch, and which has flowed over the world. It entered India from the north-west, APPENDIX 47r urcaku!4 through the older formationa, overly ng them or surroundintr thptn w never utcerly obliterating or absorbing them. Now it ^ not w[th thn£. !i ' • i races-who, though probably once potaessing a Sfr civmzat7on\rP^fL "^'"''^ That Wf^ ^'T Christianised, India practically would be so, but S Sthe?uSe' ?:^?:^iSrtfsfjni;^-e^^S^^^ thoughts o the metaphysician, and the most sliadowy and transieWeLs ofthe fSsbe^o ^f irT-T*'''^^°'/°°f P™'^"^^'! ^ hcroic^and phirosophicTrtry cen! o tS wor d Tfh'fi"" ''^' '" "f' 7f" ""^ holds a foremost plaee^in the literature n •nfipilf ■ ; '? assertcd-I know not on what authority-that they were ami fW • a«t''«°orny long ere its very name was mentioned by the SeTs ^ and that m comparatively recent times they solved problems in alLbra which nof until centuries afterwards dawned on the aeutest minds of To Ic^a Europe W^^^^^^ we add to this a structure of society-to which I sliall immediately aSr-so com Son i? not Ch'^-*^ *r"^T for more than two thousand years' ^e'^mus tel adm ai fw'w„ .? *^''' physical, at least for their intellectual powers, and acknowledge ^;^:z!7i^s:i^^^ '''''-' ^^^* ^ ^^^'^^^ -^--^-^ -^ ^^-p^ytte? social '"Sjm "^vifbTft IT'l^'" ^!f "'^''"'"' f "^° ^^'"*^°°^' ^°"i ^« a «''«ed and as a social ^^cemvvith Its ellects on their g.,ieral temperament and habits of life. Ihe Hindoo religion, like Judaism and Christianity, is one which has survived the revolutions of long ages. Tlie religions of the Greeks and Roman o the ^0 t^ans Phcenicians, and Assyrians, with many others, are to us Ts fo sds of a ffl teSn. SmonT^'wi'''' """ '''''"' f'' 4'' ^' ^ P'^^^'^^' affectiiig tS destiSi , of tetming millions. We can gaze upon it as a living specimen of one out of many of the monster forms which once inhabited the globe. Unlike all those extinct?el gions it has Its sacred books, and I doubt not that to this written word it gS«y oweSn're- dSr-Tl^' Ve'd'°"'^ ''''W'''' T"'^'^- "* '''''''"'' ^-oprosenfinr-sTreS'o lustoiy. The \edas, at once the most ancient and the most pure and lofty date as I Li'^nefiS wi'tl^'o,. ^" 'T '^ f.T'' --1 contain many t.L andsubSlS id as o L^tivOvH^ff • "^ trace of the peculiarities of Brahmaninm-nay, declaring positively that there is no distinction of castes.' The great collection of thp Pnr anas was compiled in the middle ages of <,ur era, and fonnf the cKer^^ We' afpw l!?'^t'^ '"f °" "V?'"'.^"'^'^' *^° ^'"^'^^ ^''"H »»^^ known to and reaky only ,i^^3 }{ •^''^'r tlicse I'uranas are one mass of follies and immoralities, of dreaming pantheism, of degrading and disgusting idolatry. Mr. Wheeler, in his recently publishetl volume, the first of his ' History of India ' thus writes of the great epics of Maha Bliarata, or the great war of iUiaiii an the R^unayano, or 'Adventures of llama,' with their present inlluenee on the Hindoos t ^ his opinion, I may state, that while the events recorded in these epics belon- to'the Vedic period, their composition belongs to the Brahmanic age, when caste was intro- duced a new religion established, and the Brahmans had formed themselves into a P.7'''''^»\fclesiastical hierarchy, and when, instead of the old Vedic gods and fonns of faith. Brahma. Vishnu, and Siva toolc tbeii- r.lano Th'-sc "srs- ovp^'^.-.-x;/., ' ' the Hindoos, religious poems, and coiis;e.iuently are the most powerful and popular props to Brahmamsm ' Few Hindoos,' writes Mr. Wheeler, 'may perhaps be ac- quainted with the whole of these epics, and none have ventured 'm subject them to a H 1 ^a .0% IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) y A {/ / >° C?. i9 I. ?■ €l ^ C/x fA 1.0 I.I 2.5 ■-IIM Ui lU u 1*0 IL25 Ml 1.4 u 11.6 <^ % 0% s^. // 'e. > >> 7 y.. PnoiogTdpiiic Sciences Coii.Krdton # ^1>^ ^^ \ \ '."i. 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSIEPN.Y )4S80 (7)6) B72-4S03 6^ %r .F coinmunity — what oHght tn be tlonc upon ordinary days and on holy days ; in youth, in manhood, and in old ago ; in health and sicknesB, and iu tho hour of 1 APPENDIX. 477 death ; and what ought to be done for those who are dead Rnina „, -i, ^ . him as a s nner or a saint in \r^x, «^ i„ n • " , • ^"'^^ ^^^ prescribed to wards superiors! inferiors and Suals • Z^^TT I '^•""f*"'^ '"'" ^«^ *« ^«t *"• on earth, and toward" all the eoS on '^aZS^f' T'^ P""*^"' ' *°^*^T tfp^^l^^^ ^'^'^ ^"'"'^ ^^ ""'"-'1'''^. the unimpeded progress^dlh^Sti^'^pt^^h^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ *" ~ thej;^s:^«5£sts^!^i^sr'Zsi^i^-£ and legitimate conse.juenccs of faith in^f teach?^ a, nl^of ok.l ence 1 0?^,°^'""''^ j;'ar;ri^:;^^:i?;.:s:;'?i^:!'^.!^j^^r'^^^ ^o sa/il;^t';;;t:Sco.is 1 have Ijean.. Uiat: e^i^ept^he^Jali^Sd t:;^^^^:^-:^:^^^^^ .nd Mahomnicdane. as a rule, far below 4at -'generally riired^ffiii^ ■! I 478 LIFE OF NORM AN MACLEOD. ' } t^Mi amount of morality, and the play of those afiFections among friends and the member* of the family, N'nthout which society could not hang together ; and while I refuse to believe that there are not among such a mass of human beings, Sv/^e true light and life received from Him who is the Father of light, in ways we wot not of and may never discover ; yet I have no doubt that the description of heathendom as existing m the latter period of Roman life, and as described by St. Paul in the beginning of his Epistle to the Eomans, is true to a fearful extent of India. Facts, besides, have come out in trials showing how 'religion,' so called, may become the source of the most hideous abominations, for which it is righteously chargeable. Immortal man is seldom bo degraded as not to seek some apparently good reason, and in the holy name of ' religion ' too, for doing the worst things. Thus the Thug strangles his victim as he prays to the goddess of murder ; and the member of a hereditary band of robbers consecrates his services to the goddess of rapine. "But enough has been said to give some Idea of Brahmanism, and we are thus better prepared to entertain the question as to the vieans by which it can be destroyed and Christianity, with its truth, holiness, brotherhood, and peace, take its place. ' "As to the question of mcaii.^ 1 assume that, as a Church of Christ, we are at liberty to adopt any means whatever, in consistency with the spirit ftf the Gospel and the holy ends we have in view, which, according to our knowledge as derived from the Word of God, interpreted by sound judgment and experience, we believe best calculated to accomplish those ends. The example of the Apostles as recorded in the Book of Acta, that missionary history of the early Church, and in the letters of the great missionary St. Paul, however precious to us and invaluable as a repository of facts and principles, can never bind us to adopt the verv same methods in our day in Icdia, if it were even possible for us to do so, as were adopted by the Apostles in the Asia Mmor or Europe of their day, unless it can be shown that the tields in both casea are so far similar as to admit of a similar mode of cultivation in order to secure that crop which Christian missionaries of every age desire and labour to obtain. St. Paul had nothing like the heatlienism of India, in its social aspects or vast extent, to deal with. But we shall be fellow-labourers with him if we understand his ' ways * 'manner of life, and possess his spirit. Let us only, as far as possible, endeavour to share what, without irreverence for his inspired authority, I may venture to call his grand comprehensive common-sense— his clear eye in discerning the real plan of battle and all that was essential to success— his firm and unfaltering march to the centre of the enemy's position, in the best way practicable in the given place and time— his determination to become all things to all men, limited only, yet expanded also by the holy and unselfish aim of 'gaining some,' not to himself, but to Christ ; and, in doing BO, we shall not miss the best methods of Christianising India. Right men will make the right methods. '' In reviewing the various mission agencies at work in India, we may at once lay aside the consideration of minor methods— such, for example, as that of orphanages male and female : for whate\ er blessings may be bestowed by them as charitable in'- Btitutions, or whatever advantages- and there are many such— may be derived from them as furnishing Christian teachers for male, and, above all, for female schools • and colporteurs or catechists, to aid missionaries ; or as providing wives for Christiaii converts, who could neither seek nor obtain any alliances from among the 'castes-' —nevertheless, these institutions, however iuultiplie Christian lit..nitiii\., and • tlier simiW details of uiibBion work, the excellence of which is obvious ami admitted. t>ut < wii' "ovtitiQ be members ) I refuse to e light and of and may as existing )eginning of isides, have )urce of the )rtal man is in the holy trangles his litary band we are thus ! destroyed, 1 place. , we are at Gospel and : rived from )elieve best ided in the tters of the spository of our day in sties in the L both cases secure that . St. Paul nt, to deal lis 'ways,* deavour to to call his m of battle e centre of time — his dao, by the i, in doing will make t once lay rphanages, iritable in- rived from 3 schools ; Christian > ' castes ; ' 111, cannot, es proper, ight in the especially 5 young at 1 not have looisni, or those con- e latter &7,. nfr!^ personality and unity ? We use but each term represents to\im an old aTfkSi '^ f?/' r^"!}!^^. and so will he ; , believes, and clings to, and which fiiruiH s Solfi I'r^*'; '''^'''^ '''^ understands of Gospel truths altogether different a?thmmiriv ^^' ^^'indins it to the perception uneducated thus not unfreqieSfy confZ^even^t'ir''^ ^^ *^ '"""^^ *^">'«- ^'he ^/"Jf«. with/.7uA7./,^a.a%ompUirTthe'rJ^^^ «/ o»r Saviour, Yi,/,H such difticulties as these, even you wTalso cease to w- J "V u ^''l' ^^''^y ''""^^'er sultsfrompreacliingalonetothoVuineHrndTasdisS^ ^S*^'" ^^""«* b""''" '^' *nd that the most earnest men have faded S makl ant * {'T- ^"""^ "^^^^ ««• «« ^-''-^^te- any more than the rain or light of hSvencKnth«i^rT"^''V'"If*^«^'»°«n"ie mass, the noblest and most devoted of men! Mr Bowei oft ""T^' '^ ? ^'''^''''- ^^'^^ of preach, and who has done so for a ouarter of ,: "L 'H' '^''°'" ^ '><^ard thus humble, truthful way-and his case ^a,S L 1 "*"'^' '"formed me, in his own earnestncss-that, as far as he knSw hi h^?. ^"'^'■', '^''''*'P' ^"'^ its Patience and " Bnt while, in trying to estimate tl^.i! rf 7 "'"''^ °"*^ «"'«!« eonvert. ledge of ChristianityYo^the liin U,os wZd In^e^v^n"' f ^°'»-"'-ating a know- m the way of preaching only. I wou d „o have vo7r. /''''''y <^°n?'o little more people. We...e strangirs and foreigners and - f ™"'* ^^ ^^ ^'' ^^'^ be so. Nature decrees. 'HithertrsK tC^' n f^\«« ^^ can discover, must ever and permanent settlement are for us imposSble O^r' ^"w" ^"'*^^'-' I'nmigrat.on Sil?d'"/r'^ without, and in order to Sen' and divt *T'^' ^"l'''-^ must^Iiere" dividuahty m a Christian form. At present w« JT • °P, ^™" ^^""ii her own in- ignoran of the inner life of the peoplf onmiralmosTf ^"""^y,;"'^ •!''"««* profoum ly ihfferent race in a different planet We com«',-nf .*' T*'^ *« '^ ^«' had visited a social y, and spiritually, u^til we can m e Unthe felfoiS" ''/"P*™*" "^ ™«"tal]y, as well as of » common citizenship If i„fr! fellowship of a common Chriatianitv upon native evangelists anr^i^^*^* »«;7'<;?,"t that we must ultima eyre J Clinstian religion, and to form theTinfnrT*.*^^/"''''^^^ "^ the natives in the fore, which ca'n b; devisedTr the raTs L un "an Hh^ ''"'"*' "l', ^'"'y "^'^^^l here! suited to meet the various ranks an(S!,i m^ ^''"'^"^^''y ^^^''^'ating such men most learned as well as the mos? Sorant -h" u"*^°° *"^ Mohammcdansociety the of the Christian Church. A? present we ite n* TT *''" '""«'• ^»'-"««t atte^ntion important end. P °'^"^ ^^^ '^^^ hut feeling our way towards this all- 81 f ...s 1 ' r 1 ! ^ t. ;^ k 482 ZIFH OF NOEMAN MACLEOD. You will now very naturally inquire how far our school system has succpedcd, after having ha., a fair trial, in adding converts and native evangelists to the Christian thurch. Ihe results of Dr. Duff's missionary schools may he taken as the most favor- able example. He had the honour not only of beginning the system in Calcutta, hut of carrying It on for the long period of thirty-five years; for although he left the Church of Scotland and joined the Free Church in 1843, yet he continued his mission m other buildings with unabated vigour and unwearied zeal. He was assisted, more- oyer, by a staff of missionaries who, in learning and ability, were worthy of their dis- tinguished leader; so that the system, it must be confessed, has had the fairest possible tnal, without interruption or weakness. Its agency, too, has always been strong and ettectiye. Ihe number of its principal and branch stations in Bengal is 12, with 51 Christian agents, including 4 ordained European missionaries; an average attendance of upwards of 3,000 scholars, male and female. Two ordained native evangelists are employed, and 5 agents are engaged in vernacular preaching in the Mofussil, or in the country. Now, the number of converts since the beginning of the mission until the present year has been 206. Not one, as far as I can discover, is reported for last year. As to ordained missionaries, three only have been contributed by the institution since its commencement. The same general results have been obtained from the in- stitution at Madras and Bombay, hitherto conducted by as able, accomplished, and devoted missionaries as have laboured in India. The names of the late John Ander- son of Madras, and of the venerable and learned Dr. Wilson, of Bombay, whom God has spared to labour, will ever be associated with the history of missions in India. ' Looking only to such results as can be expressed by mere statistics, those I have given may possibly be recognised as proofs of failure by one ignorant of India, ot comparing them with those gathered from other fields of missionary labour. I might however, easily show the value of those results, and defend them from the charge of insignificance, by showing the quality and influence of the converts who form the native churches connected with that mission and with other mission schools in India and thus prove the greatness of the victory by the difficulty of the battle, and the strength and importance of the position which it has thus secured with reference to the final conquest of the land ; or 1 might even compare the number of those converts with the number of missionaries employed, as proving a success equal to that of any other mission m similar circumstances. But putting aside these and many other elements of a success which, in my opinion, is unquestionable and remarkable, even as tested by statistics, I could most conscientiously defend it on a lower but sufliciently solid and hopeful ground. Were its work confined to the walls of the institution, and had It as yet never made a single convert, would it, I ask, in this case, however pain- tui and disappointing it might be to the ardent and hopeful missionary or to the Church, be unworthy of our continued confidence and unfaltering support ? I can anticipate but one reply by those who have at all comprehended the actual condition of Hindoo society, even as I have tried to describe it, and the nature and difficulty of the work to be done before its heathenism can be given up, and a genuine living Christianity substituted in its place. For realise if you can what the effect must be as preparing the way for Christianity, of thousands of youth nearly every year sent forth into society to occupy positions of trust and influence from all the mission schools 111 India ; not a few of their pupils truly converted to God, and all well imtructedm Chrirtianity, in its evidences, facts, and moral teaching; the minds of all considerably enlightened, their knowledge and means of knowledge vastly increased, and their whole moral tone and feelings changed and elevated ! f am com- pelled to reiterate the idea that the work thus done by the mission school is not the taking down a brick here or there from the beleaguered wall, but that of sapping it from below, until, like the walls of Jericho, and by the same Almighty power, though differently applied, it falls m one great ruin to the ground .• while at the same time it 18 preparing the ground, digging the foundations, and gathering materials for buiidinc up a now hvmg temple to the Lord. ''In regard to the rising up of a native ministry, that too may be pronounced a t u -a^ ^^® ordained are counted merely and not weighed. But that the different mission schools in India have raised from among their converts a mo«t intelligent, educated, and respected body of native clergy, cannot bo denied. I remember a caste native gentleman of wealth and education speaking of one of those clergy, and saying to me, ' that is a man whose acquaintance you should, if pos- sible, make. He was of my caste, and became a Christian ; but he is a learned and thoroughly iincere man, and people here honour him.' Thi« said much for both APPENDIX. 483 a^rltpTrL'ag'Sf ^°ifc is^n^lUf 'eTtt ZlZ '^'^T T^'^ ^' ^^^^ ^ ^^-^ such men-hundreds o evln tS,^? •^. ^}* i^^"''^*^' *^>** ^e had many more cultiea are at pr^Sj 'grearnot only ^^ rilhVr/T" ''I' ' ^^* *'^« ^iffi! iu supporting them wlere as vet no onS^rS "8^*^md of men, but, when found, the subordinates S iSjUsBiZd^^^hnZ '""'t ' T*^ '" ^^^"'^•"g ^^^^ *« be many better paid and mof^SSStZLTL^^^^^^^ T?" «?^"'^«' ^^en so of labour, /or while there ^rfSy clTof uniS ^nlT^ f"* other dt^ents native pastors, yet the demands of ofWa f^l ? 1"** dismterested labour among native pastors in towns Sants^Laftfrnl, fn?h^ T^ P'^nT" ^^^'^^ *^« ^"^^tio'i of those difficulties, good m?n have bee" '^"d^--^ ^'^^ Churchea. But, in spite of see no more likeb^sSurrSf^rainTngtSLa/r^ SSrat leTst Tb '^r* P""?^* sionary educational institutions Before closin