I r THE LIFE OF WILLIAM MORLEY PUNSHON, LL.D. BY FREDERIC W/MACDONALD, PROFESSOR OF THEOLOGY, HANDSWORTH COLLEGE, BIRMINGHAM ; AUTHOR OF " FLETCHER OF MADELEY," ETC. CHAPTERS XI. to XV. hy A. H. REYNAR, M.A., Professor of Modern Langniagis and F.Jtglish Literature, Victoria University, Cobourg, Ontario. WITH ETCHED PORTRAIT BY MANESSE HODDER AND STOUGHTON, 27, PATERNOSTER ROW. MDCCCLXXXVII. [All rights reserved. \ PREFACE. In sending forth this vohime I have to express my regret that its pubhcation has been so long delayed. This has arisen from various causes, some of which, at least, it was not in my power to obviate. But I venture to hope that the delay has not been altogether prejudicial. It has given time for the acquisition of ampler biographic material, and for something else which it is more difficult to state precisely. Under any circumstances it could not be an easy task to weigh and analyse, to assign the limits, to give judgment, as it were, upon the qualities and work of one to whom the writer looks up with affectionate reverence ; but if the attempt was to be made at all, a reasonable interval of time, the per- spective of a few years, seems necessary. Otherwise, the " personal equation " is apt to be a disturbing one : the biographer cannot move with becoming freedom and calmness, and the reader, possessed by memories not yet adjusted and proportioned, is hardly prepared for the measured judgments of care- vi PREFA CE. ful biog^apb5^ I have felt mj^self but little qualified to estimate Dr. Punsbon's rank as a preacber and an orator. Sometbing of presumption must, I fear, cbaracterise tbe attempt on my part ; but to make tbe attempt wben tbe sound of bis voice bad scarcely died from tbe air I found impossible. One otber tbing must be said. Professor Reynar, Dr. Punsbon's son-in-law, bas furnisbed tbe part of tbis volume tbat refers to Dr. Punsbon's life in Canada. To tbose wbo may observe too mucb eitber of coincidence or of divergence between bis part of tbe work and mine, I would say tbat we bave written in complete independence of eacb otber, tbougb I am responsible for tbe work as a wbole. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. 1824— 1837. Birth and Parentage— Doncaster — Boyish Friendships — Schools and Schoolmasters CHAPTER II. 1837— 1843. HULL—SUNDERLAND. Aged 13 to 19. Counting-House in Hull — Early Love of Poetry — Death of his Mother — Conversion — Joins the Methodist Society — The " Men- ticultural Society" — Preaches his First Sermon — Death of his Father — Leaves Hull for Sunderland — Church Work — Search- ings of Heart — Joint Authorship, Wild Flowers, a volume of verse 16 CHAPTER IIL 1843— 1849. WOOLWICH— RICHMOND— MARDEN— WHITEHAVEN-CARLISLE. Aged 19 to 25. Resides with Rev. B. Clough, at Woolwich — A Candidate for the Ministry — Richmond College — A Painful Misunderstanding — Sent to Marden— Appointed to the Whitehaven Circuit — Re- moves to Carlisle — Letter to R. Ridgill 43 viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER IV. 1849- 1855. NEWCASTLE— SHEFFIELD. Aged 25 to 31. PAGE The Manchester Conference — Ordination — Marriage — Appointed to Newcastle — "The Agitation" — Recollections by Mr. Arthur and Dr. Parker — Removes to Sheffield — Family Life and Circuit Work — First Appearance at Exeter Hall — The Projohet of Horeb — Growing Popularity 66 CHAPTER V. 1855-1858. LEEDS. Aged 31 to 34. Leeds, Oxford-Place Circuit— Lecture : Science mid Literature in Re- lation to Eeliyion — Missionary Anniversary — Begins a Journal — Anxieties and Labours — Lecture : John Bxinyan — His Method, Style, Delivery — Views on Proposed Revision of the English Bible 97 CHAPTER VL 1858-1859. L ON DON, BA YS IV A TEE. A ged 34 to 35. Appointed to the Hinde Street Circuit — Work at Bayswater — Mr. Arthur's Recollections — Memories of Mr. Punshon and his Col- leagues at Hinde Street, by " Ucec meminhise jurat"— DeAth of his wife — Lecture : The Huguenots — Raises £1,000 for Spital- fields Chapel — The Conference at Manchester : Debate on the Bayswater Case — Devotional Meeting at the Free Trade Hall . 128 CHAPTER VIL 1859— 1861. L ON DON, BA YS WA TER. Aged 35 to 37. Journal — Letter to Mr. Ridgill — Ill-health and Depression — Lecture : Daniel in Babylon — Last Sermon at Baj-swater — Course of Ser- mons on " The Prodigal Son " — Pastoral Sympathy . . .154 CONTENTS. ix CHAPTER VIII. 1861— 1864. LOXDON, ISLf.yOTOy. Aged 37 to 40. PAGE Lecture : Maeaulay — Channel Islands — Cornwall Conference — Pro- posal to raise £10,000 for Chapels in Watering-Places— Opening of Chapel in Paris— Letters to his Little Daughter— Lecture : Wesley and his Times — Jubilee of Missionary Society — Letters to Mr. Hirst 178 CHAPTER IX. 1864—1866. CLIFTON. Aged ^0 to 4:2. Removes to Clifton — Preaches on "The Spiritual Wants of the Metropolis " — Lecture : Wilberforce — Travels on the Continent with Rev. Gervase Smith — Journal — Impressions of Missionary Work in Switzerland and Italy — Speech on "the Jamaica Ques- tion " — 111 Health — Visits the Continent again — Hopes and Fears 220 CHAPTER X. 1866—1868. CLIFTOy, LONDON. Aged 42 to Letter to Mr. Ridgill — Publishes Sabbath Chimes — Letters from Friends — Conference of 1867 — Completion of Watering-Places Chapel Fund — Appointed President of Canadian Conference — Inner History — Continental Travel — Lecture : Florence and its Memories — Address and Presentation — Farewell to England . 257 CHAPTER XL 1868. CANADA. Aged 44. Voyage to New York — Church Building in America — First Impres- sions of Canada— General Conference of Methodist Episcopal Church, Chicago — Conference Excursion — Camp Meetings . . 292 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER XII. 1868—1870. CANADA. AgedUtoiG. PAGE The Canadian Conference, 1868 — Fraternal Greetings from Synod of Presbyterian Church — Letters to Friends at Home — Marriage — Christmas — Friendships — Charities — Church Building — Metho- dist Union — Missions— Education — Lecturing— American Opinion 310 CHAPTER XIIL 1870 — 1871. CA NA DA. Aged i6 toil. Death of Mrs. Punshon — Journal — Letters — Travels — Journey to the Far West — Salt Lake City — Mormonism — California — Van- couver Island — Yo Semite Valley 341 CHAPTER XIV. 1871 — 1872. CAXADA—ICXGLAyD— CANADA. Aged 17 to 48. Visit to England — Addresses the Conference at Manchester — Con- tinued Labours in Canada — Physical Depression— Christmas — A Grandfather — Dedication of the Metropolitan Church — General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 1872 — Degree of LL.D 360 CHAPTER XV. 1872— 1873. CANADA— ENGLAND. Aged 48 to 49. Journey to the North-West — Ship\vreck — Visit to Missions in Mani- toba— Longfellow— Japan Mission — New Orleans and the South — Farewell to Canada 37G CONTENTS. xi CHAPTER XVI. 1873-1875. LOXDON, KESSIXGTON. Aged 49 to 51. Once more in England — Death of his Daughter — Appointed to Ken- sington— Uphill Work — Visits Rome and Naples — Work in Cir- cuit and District — President of the Conference, 1874 — Labours of the Year — Lettei's and Journal — Conference of 1875 — Ordi- nation Charge — Appointed Missionary Secretary — At the Mission House 390 CHAPTER XVII. 1875-1877. LOXDOX, MISSIOX HOUSE. Aged 51 to 53. Letter to Mr. Ridgill — Journal — Nottingham Conference — Lay Representation — Settles at Tranhy — Love of Life — A Railway- porter's Dream — Death of Rev. G. T. Perks — Estimate of his Character — Tribute to Dr. Waddy's Memory — Memorial Sketch of Rev. James Paisons — Letters to Friends — Address, Oxford under Two Queens 416 CHAPTER XVIIL JIISCELLAXEOUS. Varied Experiences of a Popular Preacher — Letters from Strangers — Crowded Audiences — Newspaper Comments and Criticisms — Statistics of Lecturing — Home-life — Friendships — Recreations — Recollections, by Rev. Nevison Loraine ..... 442 CHAPTER XIX. 1878—1881. LOXDOX, 3/ISSTOX HOUSE. Aged 53 to 56. Last Years of Labour — Suffering and Depression — Death of his Eldest Son — Last Journey to the Continent — Illness — Death — Burial — Sorrow in the Churches — Letters from Friends .... 465 CHAPTEE I. 1824— 1837. Birth and Parentage — Doncaster — Boyish Friendships — Schools and Schoolmasters. William Moeley Punshon, the only child of John and Elizabeth Punshon, was born at Doncaster, on the 29th of May, 1824. His father, who was a native of Sunderland, came to Doncaster early in life, entered into business, and rose to a position of comfort and credit as a member of the firm of Wilton and Punshon, mercers. He was a good Christian, and a hearty Methodist ; not distinguished, so far as is known, for ability, but much respected for his consistent character, and steady devotion to the interests of religion and morals. In the Methodist Society he held various offices, including that of Circuit Steward and Sunday School Superintendent. For the latter office he had the special qualifications of a strong love for children, and an affectionate, cheerful disposition. He died December 9th, 1840, having survived his wife two years and a half. Elizabeth Morley, the wife of John Punshon, was the second child and eldest daughter of William and 1 ^/ 2 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. I. Margaret Morley. Her father's family came originally from the neighbourhood of Castle Howard, and settled on the banks of the river Don, first at Sprot- brough, and afterwards at Doncaster. The roll of Doncaster freemen contains the following entry : " November 18th, 1796. — WiUiam Morley, clerk, was sworn a true townsman of Doncaster, and admitted and made free to all the benefits and privileges thereof, before Nicholas Eobinson, Esq., Mayor. — Entered by John Stannell, sergeant-at-mace." In the years 1825 and 1826, the same roll records the admission of Isaac and William, the sons of William Morley. The last-named w'as the eldest son. He died in December 1838, aged forty-one. Isaac Morley Hved to become a wealthy and influen- tial man ; was twice Mayor of Doncaster, was knighted in the year 1841, and died in 1879, aged seventy-eight. Besides these two sons, William and Margaret Morley had two daughters, Elizabeth and Margaret. The latter, born in 1803, was married in March 1825 to the Rev. Benjamin Clough, Missionary to India. A few weeks later, she and her husband, together with the Rev. Spence Hardy, sailed for Ceylon, where they arrived, after some danger and many discomforts, in the following September. Mrs. Clough was a true missionary's wife, a woman of deep piety, and much courage and self-control. Her course was a short one. She died at Colombo in less than two years after landing on the island, leaving a memory not unworthy to be associated with that of the saintly women who adorn the annals of early Methodism. Extracts from her journals and correspondence were edited by Dr. Adam Clarke, 1825.] BIRTH AND PARENTAGE. 3 who refers to them as showing "to what a state of useful excellence a Christian education, conducted under the influence of the Spirit of God, can raise the human heart." A single entry in her Journal, written at sea, furnishes a link hetween the saintly Margaret Clough and her sister's child : — " Sunday, May 29th, 1825. " This is my dear little nephew's birthday. May the God of his father graciously condescend to take this tender infant into His peculiar care ; and, if spared, may he be an ornament to the Church of God, and a comfort to his parents in their declining years." Elizabeth Morley, the elder sister, was married to John Punshon, at Cantley Church, on the 13th March, 1823. To her also " brief life " was the portion given. Her health was generally delicate, and after a few years of happiness as wife and mother she was taken from the faithful husband who was soon to follow, and from the child who, as it will be seen, mourned for his mother to the end of his days. She died on the 12th of June, 1838. The number of comparatively early deaths in these family records is noticeable. William Morley Punshon's father died at the age of forty-seven ; his mother at thirty-eight ; his uncle at forty-one ; his aunt at twenty-three. There was little promise of length of days for the child of such a household. Upon a blank leaf in John Punshon's Bible is the following entry, written by himself : " William Morley Punshon was born 29th May, 1824, at half-past six in the morning. Baptized Sunday, 4th July, 1824, by Kev. J. Cusworth. Eegistered at Doncaster Church 16th January, 1828." Mr. Cusworth was the Superintendent Minister of the Doncaster Circuit. 4 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. i. The home of which Wilham Morley Punshon was the soHtary child was one of those quiet, well-ordered, godly households which have ever been among the chief sources of the strength of Methodism. Outward and visible signs of worldly living were conspicuously absent. The inner and animating spirit of the family life was deeply religious ; the manners and modes of thinking those of a more mild and genial Puritan- ism. The round of Sunday and week-day services, prayer meetings and class meetings, lovefeasts and band meetings, dull and distasteful enough when looked upon from without, had inexhaustible charm for those to whose spiritual life they ministered. Then there was plain but cheerful hospitality for the preachers as they came and went in ceaseless itinerations ; now and again a party of Christian friends — not without prayer and the singing of hymns ; and at its appointed time, the crowning festival of the year, the Missionary Meeting, with the coming together of friends from a distance, and great speeches, and much joyful kindling of soul. The life of such families moved in a tranquil round, none the less rich in happiness because the pursuit of pleasure formed no part of it. A certain dread of the world led to strictness in the matter of recreations and companionships. Lines were sharply drawn, and good and evil brought into clear and unmistakable opposition. Questions that in our own day are considered open questions, or settled, after some casuistry, in favour of pleasing oneself, were decided by swift appeal to Scripture or pious tradition. Eestraints thus enforced might indeed be resented where the administration was formal and DONCASTER. 5 unloving, but where love to God and one another v^^as at once the law and the life of the household, there were no happier families in happy England than those of the whole-hearted Methodists of sixty years ago. But there were other influences beside those of his home that wrought upon Morley Punshon's child- life, and through it upon all his after years. He owed something — perhaps it should be said much — to his native place. Though Doncaster can hardly be counted among English historic towns of the first rank, its associations are sufficiently varied and in- teresting to move the imagination. From Roman, Saxon, Danish times, through the Middle Ages, during the Tudor, Stuart, Georgian periods, the stream of its history never wholly disappears. Its traditions are perhaps best known in connection with Southey's veracious memoirs of Dr. Daniel Dove. "Reader," says he, " if thou carest little or nothing for the Yorkshire river Don, and for the town of Don- caster, and for the circumstances connected with it, I am sorry for thee." In the middle of the sixteenth century, Evelyn describes Doncaster as " a large, fair town, famous for great wax-lights and good stockings." A few years later the corporation, in an address to Charles II., boasted that " they had not one factious, seditious person in their town, being all true sons of the Church of England and loyal sub- jects ; and that in the height of all the late troubles and confusion, they never had any conventicles amongst them, the nurseries and seed-plots of sedition and rebellion." Southey adds ruefully, " There are conventicles there now of every denomin- 6 tv. MorleY PVlsrstioM. tCMAf. t. atioD." To the honest, Church-and-Toiy soul of Wesley's biographer this was a state of things to be deplored, though he divides the blame between the government, *' which made no other provision for the religious instruction of the townspeople than one church, one vicar, and one curate," and Archbishop Sharp, who had secured the rectorial tithes for his own family, and starved the vicarage. As early as 1764, there was a "room" or preaching-place be- longing to the Methodists in Doncaster, In the April of that year, Wesley, finding it too small to contain the people, preached in a yard near the bridge. He describes the crowds that flocked to hear him as " a wild, yet civil multitude," and, three years later, as " wild and stupid enough, yet all tolerably civil, many attentive, and some affected." In July 1770 he writes in his Journal : — " I rode ;to Doncaster, and preached at noon in the new house, one of the neatest in England. It was sufficiently crowded, and (what is more strange) with serious and attentive hearers. What was more unlikely, some years since, than that such a house, or such a congregation, should be seen here ! In 1797 Doncaster appears in the Minutes of the Methodist Conference as the head of a Circuit. Although not sworn and registered upon the • Burgess-roll, William Morley Punshon was, like his grandfather and uncles, a "true townsman of Don- caster." He was proud of his native town, of its ancient memories, of the old parish church where its many generations had been baptized and buried. With his companion Richard Ridgill ^ he passed ' The Rev. Richard Ridgill, of Wynberg, Cape Town, President, in 1885, of the South African Wesleyan Methodist Conference. 1828.] JJOlVCAST£R CHURCff. 7 daily under its chancel window, loitering or scampering to and from school, blithe enough when the sun was shining, but whistling to keep their courage up if the shades of evening had fallen. Within the church were many things that appealed to his quick- springing fancies, and made impressions that he never lost. The great chancel window, dark and meaningless as seen from without, was radiant with prophets and apostles walking in a world of light. He looked up with wonder at the quaint old pictures in the roof. He spelled out the epitaph on the altar-Hke tomb of Eobin of Doncaster : — " Howe, howe, who is heare ? I Robin of Doncastere, and Margaret my fere. That I spent, that I had ; That I gave, that I have ; That I left, that I lost. a.b. 1579. Quoth Robertus Byrkes, who in this world did reign Threescore years and seven, and yet lived not one.'' He listened with silent delight to the great organ, whose mellow pipes were said to be worth their weight in silver; the organ at whose opening in the year 1739, the curate, Mr. Fawkes, preached in praise of sacred music, when, after touching upon the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, and dul- cimer, he turned to the new organ, and in a fine rapture exclaimed, " But 0 what — 0 what — what shall I call tliee^ thou divine box of sounds ! " The Doncaster of Morley Punshon's childhood, uninvaded as yet by railways, was a calm, leisurely, thriving place — always excepting the annual race- week, when calmness and leisure fled before the crowds that flocked from every quarter. An old town, with plenty of capacity for modern life ; con- 8 IV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. l. scious of its past, yet not lagging behind the times ; somewhat chiirchly, though without the perilous dignity of a cathedral and a close, — it was " meet nurse " for a child susceptible from the first to whatever was venerable, quaint, or impressive, yet summoned to earnest, practical life, alike by his own qualities and the call of God. He never lost his interest in the town of his birth, but continued to watch from a distance all that concerned its welfare. When in 1853 the church was destroyed by fire, few grieved for it more sincerely. He rejoiced in the noble building that rose in its place ; but the new church could never be to him what the old one was. A landmark of his life was gone. It is difificult, at this distance of time, to account for the method pursued in his education. His school life was over before he had completed his fourteenth year, and during that all too brief period he had been to at least four different schools. This was doing less than justice to a child already giving signs of more than ordinary powers. The short duration of his school life, in itself much to be regretted, was in effect still further diminished by the frequent change of teachers and modes of in- struction. The compensation for this lay, to a great extent, in a mental activity that had plans of its own, and reached out to right and left after the objects of its desire. As with many another youth, who, in the pursuit of knowledge and the cultivation of his powers, has been a law unto himself, the result went far towards justifying the method ; but, considering the career that lay before young Punshon, one cannot but regret that in his eager, quick-budding spring- THE " quaternity: 9 time the means of culture aud discipline were not more abundantly forthcoming. He went to school for a time to one Mr. Graham, in Doncaster, and afterwards to the grammar school. Here he and his friend Ridgill, together with two other boys, formed themselves into a society or brotherhood, to which he gave the name of the " Quaternity,'' the object of which was, — nothing so tame as mutual improvement, but the pursuit of adventures. The terms of their compact bound them to relate at their weekly meeting whatever of valiant deed or hairbreadth escape had happened since they last met. It may be imagined with what abundant colouring of romance these young knights-errant reported the adventures that never fail to come to heroes of tender age who are on the look-oufc for them. Many years afterwards he writes, " Oh those days of the Q. ! There's a glamour about them, notwithstanding their folly, which endears them to memory still." "When about five years old, and walking with his nurse, he was on one occasion tired, and unwilling to go further. But the promise that he should see Stirling Castle fired his imagination, and put new strength into his feet. He trudged along bravely till, by-and-bye, they came to a public-house with the sign of " Stirling Castle," when the cruel dis- appointment broke upon him, and he sat down by the roadside and cried bitterly. His love of poetry showed itself very early, and he would commit it to memory almost without effort. An old friend, still living in Doncaster, writes : — " My earliest recollection of Dr. Punshon is that of 16 tv. MORLeY PUNSHOM. [chap. 1. hearing him, when eight years old, repeat, standing on a chair, Byron's lines beginning ' The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold.' This he did in a vigorous and spirited style which I have remembered ever since." Of his boyish collection of books, a few volumes remained with him through life. They include a County Album, with 400 Topograpliical HieroglypJiics, evidently much prized, with the inscription " W. M. P., Doncaster, 1830, No. 1." Piety is represented hj BogatzJcy's Treasury, a gift from his father, and Abbott's Young Christian, from Mr. Eoscoe, his schoolmaster; and poetry by an edition of Milton, in two small volumes, and a copy of Pope's Homer's Iliad, that had previously belonged to his mother. Between him and his mother there was the ten- derest affection, and that intimate companionship and perfect understanding which seem to be reserved for mothers and their only sons. As a little child he was at her side, not seeking protection, but ready to afford it. Who should be master of the house and defender of the hearth, next to his father, but himself ? His mother never forgot how one day when his father was from home, he calmly seated himself at the head of the table, and looking at her, said, " My dear, what shall I have the pleasure of helping you to ? " From the Doncaster Grammar School he was removed in 1835, being then eleven years old, to a boarding school at Tadcaster, kept by Messrs. Stoner and Elsworth. The earliest of his letters that has been preserved belongs to this period. It is addressed to his Uncle Clough the missionary, at Colombo. I835-] Letter to Jtis umcle. n The penmanship is above reproach or criticism, a marvel of delicacy and beauty, giving promise of the free and elegant handwriting for which he was afterwards distinguished. The letter itself is an admirable specimen of the formal epistle which, once or twice in a half-year, used to minister to the pride both of schoolmaster and parent in the days when letter-writing was a recognised branch of polite education. Here are none of the genial crudities of style and spelling that characterise the schoolboy letter when it is spontaneous and unrevised ; but, instead, faultless writing, mature sentiments, and sentences constructed after the best traditions of the Johnsonian school. How many copies were written and corrected before it took its final shape can only be guessed at, but in such expressions as " the healthy town of Tadcaster," " the useful parts of the mathematics," and "the Annual Conference now assembled," though the hand is that of William Morley Punshon, aged twelve years, the voice is surely that of one or other of those respected gentle- men, Messrs. Stoner and Elsworth : — "Vicarage House Academy, Tadcaster. ''August nth, 1836. " My very dear Uncle, " Your letter to my cousin reached us while we were on a visit to my grandfather at Hull. My mother then expressed a wish for me to write to you. In compliance with her desire, and with great pleasure and satisfaction to myself, I now embrace the earliest opportunity of addressing you. "You will perceive by this letter that I am now at school, and will, therefore, be desirous of knowing how I am proceeding with my educa- tion. Thp Academy in which I have now been a pupil more than a year is pleasantly situated in the healthy town of Tadcaster, and conducted by Messrs. Stoner and Elsworth (Mr. Stoner is brother, and Mr. Elsworth brother-in-law, to the late Rev. D. Stoner), under whose superintendence 12 TV. MORLEY PVNSHON. [chap. I. I am endeavouring to acquire a knowledge of the Latin, Greek, and French languages. " I am also studying the useful parts of the mathematics, and the general routine of an English education, such as the English grammar, history, geography with the use of the globes and the construction of maps, etc. ; in all of which branches I flatter myself that I am making some humble progress. As to my writing, you will, of course, be able to judge from this letter, which I present to you as a specimen. " As to information, I am afraid I shall not be able to communicate much. The first thing which strikes my attention, and which will, I have no doubt, be interesting to you, is the Annual Conference now assembled. Dr. Bunting has been chosen President, and Mr. Newton Secretary, by very great majorities. This, of course, shows the respect and confidence which the Conference still retain for those blessed men, notwithstanding the vain attempts made by a certain party to weaken and, if possible, to destroy that confideuce. Medals have been struck to commemorate the first Conference in the town of Birmingham, and gold ones were presented at a public breakfast to the President and Secretary, and silver ones to the American and Irish representatives. The appointment for Doncaster Avill, I suppose, be as last year, viz., Messrs. R. Pilter, J. Bromley of notoriety, and John Callaway, late a Missionary in Ceylon, with whom I daresay you are acquainted. "I am happy to say, through the mercy of God, my dear father, mother, and cousin, as well as myself, are enjojnng a very good degree of health, of which blessing I hope you and my dear aunt and cousins are in the full possession. " I remain, dear uncle, " Your affectionate nephew, " William Morley Pl nshon." Rev. Benjamin Clougii, Wesleyan Minister, Colombo, Island of Ceylon. From Tadcaster he was removed to the school of Mr. Thomas Eoscoe, at Heanor, in Derbj^shire. Mr. Eoscoe was a schoolmaster of high local repute. He has been described as " a competent, good-natured, resolute teacher, with a somewhat commanding pre- sence, and the easy manners of a country squire or doctor, rather tliaii the stiffness of a pedagogue." Here also he remained but for a short time. At the end. of the year 1837 his school life terminated, and i837-] SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 13 almost immediately afterwards he entered the office of his grandfather Morley, whose business as a timber merchant had been removed from Doncaster to Hull. He consequently left home. His child-life was over — pathetically early, as he was soon to realize. On the whole, it cannot be said that he owed much to his schools and schoolmasters. This is not to suggest inefficiency on their part ; and, indeed, the clerkly qualifications with which he entered Messrs. Morley & Sons' counting-house prove the contrary, so far, at least, as the routine of an English education is concerned, and as that term was understood fifty years ago. His teachers did their duty by him, but the circumstances were against any powerful and last- ing impressions being received in the course of his schooling, which was too short and too frequently interrupted to allow of continuity of teaching, and progressive, well-ordered study. With his quick and versatile mind, and extraordinarily retentive memory, few things in the way of scholarship would have been impossible to him. Had opportunity afforded, and desire led that way, his success in languages and Kterature might be counted certain. But the real passion of his boyhood was for poetry and politics. He had confided to his friend Ridgill, as they sauntered together under the elms that overshadow the Great North Road near Doncaster, that his chief ambition was to obtain a seat in Parliament. When still a child he could name nearly all the members of the House of Commons, and the places for which they sat. He had begun to collect their autographs, and had his opinion as to their abilities. He delighted in the opening genius of Macaulay and Gladstone, and 14 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. l. the maturer excellences of Peel and Palmerston. For it was political eloquence rather than politics proper that fascinated him. Parliamentary oratory in its every kind, from the set speech to the twists and turns of debate, had an irresistible charm for him, second only, if indeed second, to that of poetry. Perhaps no English boy has ever carried in his memory, or poured out to his companions, more poetry and political oratory than William Morley Punshon. Not the best mental discipline, it may be said, or the most serviceable of accomplishments. Possibly not, but in these matters there is a factor to be taken into account which has a thousand times upset theories and baffled calculations, viz., the instinctive self-determination of the nature towards that for which it has a hidden and overmastering affinity. The youth who without counsel or encouragement thereto, and against the seeming fitness of things, must needs write verses, or paint pictures, or com- pose orations, had better be left to do so, though he be unable to explain his impulse to himself or any one else. Young Punshon's love of poetry and eloquence was of this kind, and must have its way. It would do more for him in the long run than " the useful parts of the mathematics," conscientiously taught by Messrs. Stoner and Elsworth. His instinct was a true interpreter and a safe guide. For one life-lasting possession he was indebted to his school days at Heanor. There he met with Gervase Smith, and there began the close and tender friendship which, unshadowed by a moment's cool- ness or mistrust, each counted among the chief 1837.] ff^S FRIEND GERVASE SMITH. 15 blessiDgs of his life. For mutual devotion and faith- ful companiouship, for sympathy with each other's griefs and loyal delight in each other's happiness, the friendship of William Morley Punshon and Gervase Smith will bear comparison with the purest friend- ships of history or romance. CHAPTEK II. 1837— 1843. HULL, SUNDERLAND. Aged 13 to 19. Counting-House in Hull. — Early Love of Poetry. — Death of his Mother. — Conversion. — Joins the Methodist Society. — " The Menticultural Society." — Preaches his First Sermon. — Death of his Father. — Leaves Hull for Sunderland. — Church Work. — Searchings of Heart. — Joint Authorship, Wild Flowers, a volume of verse. Before completing his fourteenth year Morley Punshon had entered upon the hfe of a junior clerk. To such routine work of the counting-house as fell to his share he was fully equal, but his ways were not those that lead to commercial greatness. It would have been impossible to mistake him for a " successful merchant " in embryo. The main current of his thoughts and aspirations continued to flow in the channel it had already made for itself. He read poetry more eagerly than ever, and tried his 'prentice hand at writing it. He carried on a volumi- nous correspondence with his friend Eidgill, chiefly on the two subjects that shared his affections. It is to be supposed that his duties were not very heavy, or his superiors very exacting, for it is said that many of his office hours were devoted to the study of political oratory and the poets. STUDIES IN POETRY. 17 His letters contained copious extracts of verse, to- gether with brief comments and criticisms. One such budget includes no less than forty extracts, ranging from four hues to twenty in length. The com- ments cannot be said to show any precocious critical faculty, but rather a catholic appetite that revelled alike in the didactic and the sentimental, and a keen enjoyment of musical verse, whether softly flowing or sonorous. In his hst there are perhaps too many minor poets, if, indeed, minimus would not be the fitter designation of some ; and certain of their productions are hardly worthy of his admiring comments ; but he was now browsing at large, and dainty discrimination seldom goes along with youth's keen appetite. Ee- membering, moreover, how Bowles's sonnets, which no one now reads, awoke the love of poetry in Coleridge, one must not deny to inferior writers the power to confer great and real obligations on young imaginative minds. The selections include Burns, Byron, and Scott at one end of the scale, and Eowe and Warton, Whitehead and Dibdin at the other. Eowe's hues on "The Eose and the Thistle" are marked " Good. Eowe is better as a translator. Yide his Lucan ; " Burns's "Scots wha hae," "the sweetest, most spirit-stirring piece I ever read." There are several selections from Byron, who, as may be supposed, moved him greatly. The Gladiator he would not reckon among his best, but it is very fine The stanza beginning " A kiDg sate on the rocky brow," is "beautiful, grand, majestic." In the opening stanza, " The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece," 2 i8 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. ii. Byron is himself again." Scott's lines, " They came like mountain torrent red, That thunders o'er its rocky bed," etc., he " would almost call perfect." Heber's mission- ary hymn, particularly the verse beginning — " Waft, waft, ye winds His story," is " sweet, simple, and elegant beyond description." An extract from Croly is marked " not bad ; " Southey is "good;" Warton is "tolerable;" one Mitchell is marked as " truly patriotic," and Mrs. Hemans is " sweet, tender, and — -feminine ! " Along with these poetical selections there came fi'om time to time verses of his own, to be approved or criticised by his friend. The earliest of these — the poet just fourteen years old — reveals him suffer- ing from " the whim of cruel beauty." It belongs in fact to the long series of " Rejected Addresses " in which young bards have from the beginning sought relief from the real or imaginary woe of unrequited affection. In these cases, it is believed, the joys of authorship far surpass the griefs which furnish the pleasing theme. With very young poets it is im- doubtedly so, and, in spite of gloomy hints to the contrary, the writer of the " Address to Cruel Beauty" is in fairly good spirits as he indites the closing stanza : — " Though my offering may be slighted, With existence love shall end ; Though my dearest hopes are blighted, Still I wish to call thee friend." But in the midst of aU these pleasant imaginings there fell upon him an unexpected and overwhelming blow, a sorrow that crushed out at oncf* all scnti- 1838.] DEATH OF HIS MOTHER. 19 mental griefs, and with them well-nigh extinguished the natural happiness of his young life. On June 12th, 1838, his mother died. The loss was irrepar- able, and he felt at once that it was so. He was struck to the heart by a sense of loneliness that lasted for many years, that was renewed in seasons of depression and ill-health, and would return upon him again and again even in busiest, brightest days. While mourning for his mother, he seems to have mourned over himself, feeling the pathos and pitiful- ness of his orphanhood. It was as though, while standing by her grave, he saw himself, an affection- ate, impulsive, imaginative boy, craving love and needing counsel, going his way henceforth alone, amid innumerable possibilities of evil and overthrow. His grief returned upon himself in pity and fore- boding. He had read Cowper ; he was familiar with his poem. On the Beceipt of My Mother's Picture, and took to himself in deep despondency the lines : — " My mother ! -when I learned that thou wast dead, Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed ? Hover'd thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son, Wretch even then, life's journey just begun ? " As soon as he reached home, he wrote a hasty note to Kichard Kidgill : — " We are all buried in profound grief at our house. You can sym- pathise with me because you have been in the same circumstances as myself. I feel that I could say with Cain, ' My punishment is greater than I can bear.' " Mrs. Punshon was buried under the shadow of the old church, near the entrance to the south transept, Henceforth, it was sacred ground to her son. Thirty years after, his wife by his side, he knelt and kissed 20 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. ii. his mother's gravestone, and spoke with emotion of the great loss her death had been to him. He returned to Hull almost immediately after the funeral, and in a few days wrote to Eidgill, enclosing some lines expressive of his grief. They need not be given here. Like most productions at such an early age, even in the case of persons possessing real poetic gifts, they are conventional, full of set phrases and the echoes of other verse. He adds : — " The above cannot be called poetry, but was written with a view to divert my thoughts fi-om the contemplation of one subject ; for when I am alone, and fall into an abstracted vein of thought, I am almost driven to madness. ... I need your sympathy and commiseration. I have heard your father is worse. I am very sorry to hear it. ... I want more courage than I possess to comfort my poor father." A few weeks later Eidgill's father died, and the two boys felt themselves still more closely drawn together. William writes : — Letter to R. Ridgill. "Hull, July 23/y/, 1838. " I am not at all the right person to undertake the office of a comforter, but . . . must attempt it. An alleviating circumstance in your bereave- ment was this, that it was long expected. . . . Remember you will still be the support of your sister. You must not forget that. ... I came to Doncastcr on the Tuesday, and Saturday was the day of interment. During that time I only saw her thrice. . . . There was such a heavenly smile on her countenance, it seemed as if a ray of glory had enveloped her form ere life's embers had departed. When I reviewed the past . . . the burden seemed insupportable, and a dark and dismal prospect of a still more dark and cheerless future burst upon my unwilling view with scarce a ray of light to dissipate the clouds of woe. I felt that I had lost her, that I should never hear the music of her voice again . . . that the guiding-star round which the orbit of my destiny revolved, was for ever eclipsed. . . . When I mused upon these things my spirit groaned within me, and I was ready to sink under the weight, and to consign my exist- ence to despair. From this state of darkness I was partially, if not wholly, roused by the voice of friendship pouring its sympathetic accents into my afflicted soul. Yes. and though dark thoughts sometimes obtrude 1838.] CONVERSION. 21 themselves, I possess more of serenity than I did. Let me entreat you to be comforted. ... I roused myself at your solicitation ; therefore, if you have any love for me . . . bear it patiently, if not with the endurance of a stoic . . . with the resignation of a philosopher, and the understanding of a man.'' This letter reveals, or perhaps suggests what is known from other sources, the conflict through which he was now passing. It is noticeable in the above letter that allusions to religion are avoided, and there is something like an affectation of a philosophic strain. Considering the Christian in- fluences to which he had always shown himself susceptible, and his ready, almost instinctive, use of religious language, this seems to require ex- planation. The truth is, that he avoided the subject, not from indifference or dislike, but from the painful intensity with which it was occupying his thoughts. He was touched and troubled to the bottom of his heart. He had felt the foundations of all things earthly give way. Things spiritual and eternal alone seemed real. He longed for faith in Christ, and for peace with God. The old, old question, "What must I do to be saved?" had awakened within his soul, and was crying for answer. On the 3rd October, 1838, he writes to his father : — ' ' Oh ! my dearest father, ever since the death of my mother I have been under deep and strong convictions of sin. Peace of mind I cannot obtain. Loud and frequent have been my prayers to Almighty God for mercy. But the heavens are as brass unto me. ... I sometimes think there must be some hidden sin which I have not yet given up. ' Oh that I knew my sins forgiven ! ' is my oft-repeated cry. I have no happiness ; though I may appear cheerful, yet inwardly I am all discontent and grief. Pray for me, my dearest father, that I may speedily receive the blessing I require." To this his father replied : — " My ever dearest and beloved William,— Remember the precious word of promise. ' I love them that love Me, and those that seek Me early 22 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. ii. shall find Me.' The Lord Whom you seek will be found of you when you search for Him with your whole heart. My dear lad, I spread your letter before the Lord upon my knees, and endeavoured to plead His word and promises on your behalf, and I have faith . . . that He will most assuredly set your soul at liberty, and speak peace to your troubled mind. He gave His blessed Son Jesus to die for you. Take encouragement, He that shall come will come, and not tarry.' ' The early influences of home and Christian train- ing, childish convictions of sin, and tender thoughts of God that had seemed to come and go, had really passed into his soul, and were now awakened and renewed. His mother's death, his father's appeals, wrought upon a heart whose preparation for receiving Christ was further advanced than he was aware. He was, indeed, not far from the kingdom of God. The ministry of the Kev. S. Romilly Hall, then stationed in Hull, a probationer in his third year, was of much service. Mr. Hall was a faithful and fearless preacher and pastor. Clear in his views, energetic, practical, not to be satisfied with generali- ties and uncertainties, ever pressing his young friend to trust in Christ for salvation, — his was just the guidance needed. Perhaps the total dissimi- larity of temperament was an element of power to the young minister in counselling the sorrowful, tender-hearted lad. After much spiritual conflict the way of salvation was revealed to him. He found rest to his soul. He wrote to his aunt : — " It was on the 29th of November. I had previously been in great distress of mind, when, as I was walking on the dock side, I was met by the Rev. S. R. Hall, who urged upon me the necessity of immediate belief. Then and there I was enabled to lay hold on my Saviour, and peace immediately sprang up in my heart." This 29th of November, 1838, he being then fourteen years and a half old, he always regarded CONVERSION. 23 as the day of liis spiritual birth. His whole after- life, inward and outward, was but the growth, the unfolding, the leading forth into ten thousand de- velopments, of what he then received. Of all the varied influences, mental, moral, and social, by which he was afterwards affected, there was none that constituted a fresh beginning, or removed from its commanding position in his history the spiritual event then consummated. His conversion as a boy is the key to his character and work as a man. He lost no time in joining the Methodist Society. There is an entry in the minute-book of the George- yard Leaders' Meeting which shows that, after the usual probation, he was proposed, with nine others, for admission into the Society at a Leaders' Meeting held on the 23rd May, 1839. From the first his spiritual life responded readily to the institutions and ministries of Methodism. He was its child, not only by descent and the force of circumstances, but by a real interior kinship. It met his wants, it at once awakened and satisfied his desires. He was in sympathy with its aims and methods. He understood with quick insight what it meant by its class-meetings and lovefeasts. He threw himself into its round of religious activity. He became a teacher, and, after a while, the secre- tary of a Sunday-school. He attended prayer- meetings, assisted in conducting them, and in May 1840 his name appears upon the Prayer-Leaders' Plan as that of a recognised labourer in this depart- ment of Christian work. Meantime, his desire for Christian fellowship was not exhausted by attend- ance at the class-meeting. In addition to meeting 24 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. II. ill the class of Mr. Johu Lowther, he was one of a band of three youths who met in a vestry of Waltham Street Chapel at seven o'clock on Sunday mornings, for prayer and mutual help and counsel. There w^ere no serious distractions from without, or questionings from within. Keligion was practical and experimental, undisturbed by influences critical or speculative. It was a time of happy, healthy growth ; and while his life as a Christian was being deepened, the spirit of Methodism gave direction and character to its growth. When the time for his entering the ministry should arrive, the extent to which Methodist doctrine, discipline, and traditions had passed into his life and become a j)art of himself, would be apparent. Soon after going to reside in Hull, he made the acquaintance of a youth named John Lyth, subsequently the Eev. Dr. Lyth. They became fast friends, and companions in religious life and mental cultivation. With the assistance of one or two others they formed a society for mutual improve- ment, to which they gave the name of Tlie Menti- cuUural Society. It consisted of some eight or ten members, and two corresponding members, of whom Kichard Kidgill was one. It is to be noted that every one of these subsequently entered the ministry. A discussion every week and a lecture once a month was the society's rule, and at these meetings Morley Punshon made his first attempts at debating and lecturing. Lkttkh to R. Ridgii.l. " Hull. Decemher \lth, 1839. " . . . . Figure to yourself our worshipful assemblage, straining their eyes out of their sockets for lack of knowledge. In the chair of state, 1839] THE MENTICULTURAL SOCIETY. 25 l)rc.sideut of the awful presence, sits Professor Lytb, bis hair ou end ' like quills upon the fretful porcupine,' . . . his hand raised to keep up the dignity of his presidential office. Opposite him your humble servant, with eye upturned, listening with breathless interest, my foot keeping time with the fine-turned periods. To the left of the president, F. Smith, in a recumbent posture, is gazing ou the lecturer's countenance as if he were a phrenological student ; while brother Locking, in an oratorical attitude, is enlightening us on the importance of a right improvement of time, or the character of Artaxerxes Longimanus." To these humours concerning "the Menticultural " succeed certain sentimentalities which are confided to his friend. He longs to be in Doncaster again, and has a vision of home happiness once more. Possibly his father may marry again. Suppose he should marry some lady with a daughter, who would thereby become his sister, and so afford him a joy he had never known. Ah ! to have a sister, generous, noble, just, romantic ! What bliss that would be ! And, moved by such a vision, prose becomes inadequate, and he must needs break into verse. To another correspondent, his cousin. Miss Panton, of Sunderland, he wrote frequently and freely. His letters reveal him very distinctly, — an affectionate and somewhat romantic youth, whose happiness, quickly kindled, and overflowing in even too copious sentences, was broken by intervals of depression to which physical languor often ministered. Mentally quick and versatile, susceptible to every suggestion of the sublime or the beautiful, with a power of language which in its exuberance he could not always manage, there is perhaps but one thing, the absence of which at this time is to be regretted. He was now thinking, talking, and writing at a great rate ; prose and verse, letters, essays, and speeches. 26 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. ii. were poured forth in abundance ; but of steady and systematic reading, such as would supply the dis- cipline, and furnish the material for all this mental activity, there are not the traces that could be wished. What has been already said of the dis- advantages and compensations of his educational course, apphes to this period of his life as well as to his school days. Writing March 31st, 1840, he describes his pleasure in hearing Mr. W. Dawson preach from the words, " Will ye also be His disciples ? " and repeats for his cousin's benefit some of the illus- trations used. Dr. Beaumont was to preach that evening, and he declares it too bad that James Parsons was to preach at the Independent chapel at the same time, and only hoped it was not done intentionally. He then refers to the answers his cousin had sent to certain riddles ; and soon after launches into an eloquent declamation on the time-honoured virtue of perseverance, in which the Greeks of Marathon, Joan of Arc, Masaniello, Crom- well, and Napoleon sweep before us as in a whirl- wind. After this flight, which, with all its bojdsh exaggeration, reveals true oratorio instinct, he drops smiliugly to earth again, saying, "Is not this now a very pleasing digression, which has helped to fill up my letter? I could have gone on for a long time, but must not encroach too much on good nature." The " M. S." (Menticultural Society) was doing well. They had had a biblical night ; F. Smith taking a Greek Bible, W. M. P. Latin, J. Lyth Hebrew, R. Locking German, in order to mark variations in the text. 1840.] LETTERS TO HIS COUSIN. 27 On the 29th May, 1840, he again writes to his cousin. He acknowledges a certain sense of ex- hilaration at the absence of one of his "governors," an uncle much addicted to the use of tobacco. His wife having " sweetly, and he must say justifiably, published a bill of pains and penalties against the practice of smoking " anywhere on the premises over which she had control, the uncle inflicted his pre- sence upon the juniors at times when they much desired to be without it. In the absence of this said uncle they had denounced this procedure wdth much eloquence, finding relief in so doing, and rapturously applauding their own utterances. He hints that the only case in which smoking might be tolerated would be as a cure for disappointed affections. He reminds his cousin that it is Eoyal Oak Day, and that on that day sixteen years ago he had entered the world, "the bells of St. George's, Doncaster, ringing a merry peal on the birth of William Morley Punshon." Then follows a more serious strain ; his life has been full of the lovingkindness and tender mercies of the Lord. He regrets his inherent indolence, and his love of the romantic : — " I feel a native reluctance to enter upon the perusal of any work that has been represented to me as profound. The light, gliding eloquence of a Bromley is more pleasing to my ears than the solid reasonings of a Dixon. But I am wandering. I do feel thankful to God for all His mercies, but especially that it has pleased Him to make me a partaker of the joys of religion. Often in our private band I feel my soul drawn out in gratitude to God that He has graciously visited me ; for what am I that He should have mercy upon me ? . . . What my future destiny may be is known only to God. I have had serious thoughts upon this subject. It has sometimes entered my mind that my destination is the ministry. (Silence ! for you are the first to whom I have mentioned it.) I have at times felt a desire strong and ardent to save souls. At other times my motives have been somewhat earthly, and I have checked the desire 28 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. ii. altogether, lest I should be seeking rather the applause of men than the honour which cometh from God. Be that as it may, I am thankful that I am, in my humble way, working for God." The Missioaary Anniversary had been held in Hull. The Eev. Eobert Wood, of Huddersfield, preached in the morning a most excellent sermon ; " the Rev. J. H. Beech, of Snaith, in the afternoon ; the Rev. B. Clough (his uncle) Id the evening. On Monday morning was the meeting ; collection On Monday evening the Rev. James Everett preached from " He that converteth a sinner," etc. "What a sermon ! It almost carried the people away." On Tuesday evening he heard the Rev. Samuel Waddy, of Sheffield, from " What shall it profit a man," etc., — " a very learned, forcible, and eloquent discourse." On Wednesday morning he was at the breakfast meeting, and heard addresses from Messrs. Reece, Everett, Clough, Waddy, and Duncan. In the evening another meeting was held, " and such a meeting, Waltham Street Chapel filled almost to overflowing. I was on the platform, and had a splendid view. The first speaker was the Rev. R. Reece, who was in the chair ; then the Rev. R. Wood, whose speech I did not hear ; then the Rev. J. Everett. In speaking of the length of time the ISIissionary Reports would live compared with other reports, he said, ' They will live after yours are converted into winding- sheets for pilchards and red lierrings ! ' Dr. Alder was the next speaker, and gave us some statistical accounts of Missions in diiferent parts of the world. The Rev. S. D. Waddy gave a very forcible and impressive speech, after which the collection was made. And what do you think was the collection? One. hundred and seventy-c/x pounds eleven ghUUngis and sixpence. Bravo ! " The M. S." still prospered. A new member had just been elected, after giving a specimen of his talents. ' The list now consisted of Bishop Lyth, Professor Punshon, Doctor Locking, Brother Smith, 1840.] HIS FIRST SERMON. 29 and friend Elliott. Tlie, Professor gave a lecture on " The present state of Great Britain with reference to secular matters." ' In addition to lectures and debates, the members of the Menticultural " undertook the publication of a periodical to be entitled The Hull Quarterly Maga- zine. It will readily be believed that it did not extend beyond a few numbers. They also encou- raged one another in writing poetry, and cherished the design, realized a year or two later, of publishing a volume of their joint contributions. It was on his sixteenth birthday that he wrote to his cousin, with injunctions to secrecy, that it some- times entered his mind that his destination was the ministry. His convictions on this subject increased in strength and definiteness, and were probably fostered by friends who discerned his gifts, and the direction that his thoughts were taking. His friend John Lyth had become a local preacher, and that fact, by reason of their close intimacy, helped to keep the subject before his mind. Another letter to his cousin narrates the circumstances under which he preached his first sermon : — " Hull, August 5th, 1840. "On Sunday last at seven a.m. I went to our band, and we had a very profitable time. At ten o'clock I went to see them at the school, and about half-past ten J. Lyth came in, and he and I started for Ellerby, where he had to preach twice. Having only one sermon ready, the other was to be an extemporaneous effusion. We arrived ; the congregation in the afternoon was twenty-four souls, and he preached his only sermon, from ' Behold the Lamb of God,' etc. In the evening we did not know what to do, so it was agreed that we should each deliver an address, and then hold a prayer-meeting. After having implored the presence and blessing of the Holy Spirit, we both mounted the pulpit. It had been arranged that I should speak for ten minutes, and then he should finish, I gave out, ' Come, sinners, to the gospel feast,' then prayed, then read 30 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. ii. the lesson — a long chapter — then gave out, ' The great archangel's trump shall sound,' and then announced my text, ' And as Paul reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come. Felix trembled,' etc. I got into the subject, and, with the help of God, spoke for between half and three-quarters of an hour, and left him nothing to do but conclude." On the evening of Sunday, August 2nd, 1840, being just sixteen years and two months old, William Morley Punshon preached his first sermon. It was one of those experiments which must be judged by its results. The freest of religious com- munities would scarcely approve of an order of boy-preachers, yet the very stiffest of such would do well to make it possible for the youth who has *' . . . some naked thoughts that rove about, And loudly knock to have their passage out," to exhort or " prophesy " somewhere within its borders. That young Punshon was being drawn from above as well as urged from within, cannot be doubted. After that first boyish sermon to the vil- lage people at Ellerby, others beside himself believed that he was called of God to preach the gospel. But there was discipline in store for him. It would have been a positive calamity had he glided too smoothly into the new life which this first attempt disclosed. It is not to be wondered at that temptation and conflict followed this perhaps too easy beginning. Bodily suffering, severe search- ings of heart, and another sore bereavement, came to protect him from being exalted above measure." He writes to his cousin of " dark and gloomy thoughts, and of a slavish, tormenting fear of death." He was tempted to think that Christ had not 1840.] DEATH OF HIS FATHER. 31 accepted him. He was painfully conscious of the besetting sin of vanity, and bitterly upbraided him- self with desire for display. His very desires after goodness were haunted by mistrust of his sincerity and dread of unworthy motives. Then, in endeavouring to check and mortify the tendency to vanity, he found himself upon the shoals of other perils, real or imaginary, and was greatly tossed and troubled. He became involved in casu- istry : Is this and that sinful in itself, or only when carried to excess ? " He has thoughts of being slovenly in dress, of absenting himself from chapel, of using "plain, nay vulgar language instead of that flowery style which was natural to him, to scribble no more — all in order to avoid opportunities of making a display." In August 1840, a week or two after preaching at Eherby, he left Hull for Sunderland, and passed from the oflfice of the Messrs. Morley to that of Mr. Panton, an uncle by marriage on his father's side. A few months later his father died. He had dis- posed of his business early in the year. His health was broken, and his spirits depressed. After spend- ing some time with his relatives in Hull, he went to Sunderland, his native place, where he died on the 9th of December, 1840. William's orphanhood was now complete. He felt his loss very deeply, but his letters written about this time show a remarkable elevation of religious faith and feeling. To his cousin he writes " that after the first fit of anguish the predominant feelings of his heart were gratitude and praise. He takes comfort in thinking of his father and mother as, 32 TV. AIORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. II. he would fain believe, appointed by God to watch over him, and * bear him up in their hands, lest he should dash his foot against a stone.' " During the first year and a half of his residence in Sunderland it does not appear that he attempted to preach. His early effort at Ellerby remained a solitary effort, though by no means forgotten, or unrelated to what followed. But he threw himself eagerly into other kinds of Christian work, more suited perhaps to his age, and better fitted to prepare him for the future. He took an active part in the Sunday-school connected with the old Ironworks Chapel. He became a member of a Prayer-Leaders' Band under the superintendence of Mr. Anthony Newton, and assisted in holding prayer-meetings in some of the most dismal parts of the town, to which, on dark winter nights, tlie workers had literally to grope their way. He also established a " Menti- cultural Society " differing in some respects from that with which he was connected at Hull. The devo- tional element entered more directly into its organi- sation. On alternate Monday evenings the meetings were devoted to prayer and Christian communion. At least one member of that little society survives, an early and a lifelong friend of Morley Punshon, Mr. T. C. Squance, who says : — " The papers which he read from time to time led those who heard them to form the highest expectations as to his future ; while his spiritual experience indicated the strength of his desire to consecrate his powers to the highest ends."' The following extracts from his correspondence will show something of the occupations, the conflicts, and the progress of this period of his life : — i84i.] LIFE AT SUNDERLAND. 33 May 21si, 1841. "I have been taking myself to task concerning the intense depression of my spirits, and puzzling myself to discover its pro- bable cause. I think it is constitutional, and may be classed with nervous diseases. While it holds me under its dominion it is hard indeed to bear. ' The heart knoweth its own bitterness,' and cannot explain it if it would. . . . F. has come to lodge with us, and, in consequence, I again sleep in the bed I formerly occupied. I did not get much rest the first night. My thoughts were wandering to the past, and recalling my father's death. I did not forget to contemplate the heaven to which he has ascended, and when thinking of the sighings of his spirit while on earth, I have fancied them collected together, and forming an atmosphere surrounding me his child." June 1st, 1841. "I have just returned from the Sunday-school Anni- versary Meeting. . . . R. Wharton astonished me beyond measure, and not only electrified but melted me to tears several times during his speech, Such a fervent breathing spirit of piety, such occasional flashes of real wit, such amazing eloquence ! Oh ! how I felt myself called upon to increased exertion in the cause of Christ, especially when Wharton, with his hands raised to heaven, expressed the overflowings of a heart surcharged with gratitude." January Gth, 1842. " I never felt until Sabbath last the immense import of words that I have repeated over and over again, ' a living sacrifice.' What a picture does this give of a state of entire consecration . . . and yet even to this state God can bring me. Lord, hasten the time. . . . We had indeed a delightful time at the Ironworks. It was a season long to be remembered. In the prayer-meeting that followed the service I felt the presence of God. . . . When breathing with fervency of spirit. ' Take my heart, but make it new,' I felt as it were the earnest within me that God would show me greater things than these. " Did you ever feel, in the midst of a hallowed service, as it were a sweeping, a breath, which seemed to waft itself over the whole congrega- tion, so that you could almost see its movement and hear its sound ; and there has followed a sweet and holy stillness, ' the speechless awe that dares not move ? ' There was such a feeling in the school on Sunday morning. I felt its hallowing influence, and praised God." To Mr. J. Lyth. ''March mil, 1842. "My thoughts on the subject of the ministry have at length, I think, come to a crisis ; and I feel it to be my duty to call sinners to Christ. I think, if all be well, I shall apply for a ' note ' after our missionary ser- mons on the 3rd of April. I think of Heb. ii. 2 — 4, ' How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation,' etc.. and this is my outline : — 3 34 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. ii. " Introduction : The design of the Epistle to the Hebrews. " 1. Nature and greatness of gospel salvation. " 2. Clearness of evidence on which it rests. " 3. Fearful consequences of neglecting it ; and application, pressing the great question, ' How shall we escape ? ' " You must pray for me that I may have help from on high to enable me to keep all improper motives in the background. " I have at last established a Menticultural Society in Sunderland, which consists at present of five members. They are C. H. Potts (p), William Perks (p), Wm. Morley Punshon, R. R. Fitzgerald, and Thos. C. Squance. Those marked p are preachers, and the others are likely to be, please God. I commenced with my lecture on the ' Evidences of Christianity.' Potts delivered a sermon on ' It is appointed unto men once to die ; ' Fitzgerald on the Fall of Man, and on Monday night Squance lectures on ' Missions.' My next is ' Religion and its Tributaries,' proving the accordance of religion and science. On April 3rd I hope (D.V.) to hear Dr. Beaumont in the morning, and George Steward at night — the two most splendid preachers in the Coimexion." The Superintendent Minister of the Sunderland Circuit at that time was the Eev. Thos. H. Squance, whose name is honourably connected with the first Methodist Missions to the East. He was one of the seven missionaries who sailed for India in 1813 in company with Dr. Coke. The latter, as is well known, died suddenly during the voyage, and the young missionaries were left to begin their work without their veteran leader. After labouring in India for nine years, Mr. Squance was compelled, by the state of his health, to return to England, and the remainder of his long hie was spent in the home ministry. He was a wise, faithful, kindly pastor, and took a warm interest in young Punshon's welfare. From him, as his Superintendent, it would be necessary to procure a "note," as the old phrase was, authorising him to preach at such and such places within the circuit. This was the usual course prior to becoming a recognised local preacher, and 1842.] LIFE AT SUNDERLAND. 35 afforded a preliminary test of fitness. Mr. Squance readily furnished the required " note." This earliest credential of his ministry was highly prized by its possessor, and carefully preserved to the last. It runs as follows : — " SuNDEKLAND, March 26th, 1842. " The bearer, W. M. Punshon, is hereby authorised to preach at the following times and places : — April 3rd Southwick. „ 17th Deptford. May 1st ...... Ironworks. „ 22nd Hylton. June 12th Burleigh Street. July 3rd Ballast HUls. T. H. Squanck." A2>ril ith he writes : — -"Yesterday I ventured to stand up and declare the unsearchable riches of Christ. You know that it ha- long been a subject of my thoughts and prayers. Many of my perhaps too partial friends discovered my call before I found it out myself. I have had frequent intimations from Mr. Squance to the same effect, and on Wednesday week Mr. Allen met me in the street, and told me in so many words that I ought to preach. These things decided me, and in dependence upon God I ventured. But oh the struggle for purity of motive, for singleness ©f eye ! Who is sufficient for these things ? Pray for me. Pray that every high thought may be humbled, that every vain imagination may be cast down. Pray that in my ministrations my Master only may be seen." August IQth, 1842. " I have been lately very much depressed in spirit, ' cast down, but not destroyed,' but in the midst of my depression I have felt the power of Christ to save. I preached at the Ironworks on Sunday afternoon, and felt my soul blessed. While recommending religion to others, I felt determined to secure more of it myself. At our prayer- meeting in the Assembly Garth at night we had an especial refreshing. I do not remember ever attending a place where I was so much blessed There were Kempster, C. Smith, Wm. Perks, Fitzgerald, T. C. Squance, and myself, and after the meeting we woke the echoes in Ryliope Lane with our hymns, for which exploit I was punished by my old friend the tic. . . . Mr. Steward, I am glad to say, remains at Newcastle. I hope to have more opportunities of hearing his thoughts that breathe and words that burn. August 2Sth, 1842. (^Written from Glasgow.) " The social principle is 36 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. il. strong within me, and I owe a deep debt of gratitude to the Providence which has thrown my lot in the midst of associates Avhose influence is for the most part benign and hallowed, and is exerted to lead me in the way of truth. . . . We were too late for the churches this morning, so went into the Catholic chapel. This afternoon we went to St. Jude's Church, where I had the pleasure of hearing Henry Melvill of London, who gave us a most splendid sermon, delivered in a Methodist style. This evening I found my way to the Methodist chapel, where I heard a good plain sermon on the paschal blood. I felt that blood was precious to me. " I have thought much of late on the responsibility of the work of the ministry. I called on Mr. Allen the other day, and he asked if I was preparing for the May District Meeting. I name this because I want you to join me in prayer that in this matter I may be guided. My own opinion is that my health is not sufficiently good.'' December 11th, 1842. " As regards preaching, I have plenty of work, and plenty of fame, so that were my motives worldly I should be satisfied. But I am not. I want the success which I have always regarded as the true and only criterion of the ministerial call. I preached in the town a fortnight ago, and had a crowded chapel, and felt consider- able liberty while speaking from 'Behold he prayeth.' I was shocked to hear that one who heard me on Sunday night died on Monday, being drowned in the river. Oh ! how faithful we should be, declaring con- stantly the whole counsel of God."^ From the foregoing extracts it will be seen with what steadiness the current of his life was setting towards the work of the ministry. The interest which he felt in politics, though not extinct, was now altogether subordinate. A passion for preach- ing, to which his natural gifts and religious aspira- tions alike contributed, had become the master- passion of his soul. Along with the delight that attends the exercise of oratorio powers, there came a deeper insight into the great realities of sin and redemption, and a graver, more chastened estimate of the office and work of the minister of Christ. It was well indeed that misgivings, and conflicts, and inward humiliation were given in this precocious 1842.] A LOCAL PREACHER. 37 spring-time, when perhaps the one thing to be feared was a too swift and easy blossoming. The difficulties involved in the preparation and delivery of sermons, which are in themselves a discipline for most young preachers, hardly existed for him. He sermonised with ease ; divisions, paragraphs, sen- tences took shape as fast as his flying pen could fix them. There was no laborious committing to memory, — that was accomplished in the act of composing. What he wrote he could recall, page after page, with perfect accuracy and freedom ; while his delivery, rapid, rushing, yet subtly modulated, charmed the ear, and strangely touched the emotions. These were great gifts — gifts rather than acquire- ments. What many men by slow degrees, through continued effort, in some measure come to possess, was his he knew not how. Little more than a boy, he began to preach, and at once found himself famous. The people flocked to hear him. The chapels were crowded. He was pressed to preach at Doncaster, and seventeen hundred people filled Priory Place Chapel. Invitations poured in upon him from the towns and villages near Sunderland, and from Hull. He entered at once upon the honours and upon the perils of a popular preacher. And surely none would lightly estimate those perils in the case of one so young as William Morley Punshon, whose temperament — affectionate, impres- sible, ever craving sympathy, and susceptible to pain and pleasure at the hands of others — would naturally expose him to all the dangers of the position. But the safeguards were forthcoming. As has been said, they consisted, in part, of the inner spiritual disci- 38 VT. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. ti. pline by which it pleased God to chasten him, and, in part at least, the wholesome, practical work of the prayer-meeting, the Sunday-school, the mission band, served to keep him in touch with homely people and humble ways, and maintain the balance of things as against the exciting influences of popular services and admu'ing crowds. By a special grace of God, his conscience had been awakened to the evil of vanity, and to the presence of something in himself that was either that, or the root and beginning of it. He took the warning, and fought this enemy down to its lurking- places. The victory was given him with such com- pleteness, that few ever knew of the danger, and of the way it had been overcome. On this defeated vice the opposing virtue was established with such happy mastery that, through his after career, of all the tributes he received from friends, and particularly from his brethren in the ministry, the most frequent was that which was rendered to his humility. It was a common saying that nothing was more won- derful in Punshon than his modesty. His early friendship with Eichard Eidgill con- tinued undiminished during the years that followed his removal from Doncaster. Poetry and politics formed the principal topics of correspondence between them. But Ridgill was surprised, and not altogether pleased, at the direction things were taking with his friend. In a letter written long afterwards, he says : " I remember, as it were but yesterday, how, when we were pacing up and down Prospect Street, Hull, he told me he had begun to preach. I listened with amazement, and something like contempt, for, Wesleyan though I was, my heart was not then as his heart, and I thought him a fool." 1842.] RIDGILL BECOMES A MISSIONARY. 39 In the summer of 1841 they spent some time together at Sunderland, Eidgill was then intending to seek his fortmies in New Zealand, and if he looked with little sympathy on his friend's purpose of entering the ministry, the latter just as little approved his notion of emigi-ating. He endeavoured more than once to dissuade him from it, and wrote : — " Are you going to prosecute this whim of yours ? Is New Zealand still precious in your sight, or has reason reasserted its supremacy ? I need not say that I sincerely hope such is the case." Early in the year 1842 Eidgill left England, not, however, for New Zealand, but for South Africa. The friends parted at Sunderland in August 1840. Their next meeting- place was City Eoad Chapel, London, in the August of 1880. Soon after reaching South Africa, Eidgill was converted, and almost immediately entered upon missionary work, thus passing into the ministry before his friend Punshon. The last had become first. William was filled with joy on hearing of this, and wrote to his cousin : — " I want you to praise God with me. Richard Ridgill has felt the power of the gospel, and is now engaged as a missionary, preaching in the regions beyond the unsearchable riches of Christ. ' What hath God wrought ! ' How strangely and beautifully do all things work together for good ! We were loud in deprecating his departure from England. But the Lord had need of him." Although Mr. Squance wished to propose Morley Punshon as a candidate for the ministry at the March Quarterly Meeting of 1843, he felt unable to consent to this. He wanted more time for self- examination, for preparation, and for prayer. It was 40 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [CHAP. II. finally arranged that he should give up his situation in Sunderland, and spend a few months with his uncle Clough, then stationed at Woolwich, that he might he directed in his studies, and otherwise assisted in preparing to become a candidate for the ministry in the spring of the following year. Before leaving Sunderland one of his early ambitions was gratified. A tiny volume, entitled Wild Flowers, or a Selection of Original Poetnj, was published under the editorship of John Lyth, then just entering on the work of the ministry, to which he contributed seventeen pieces. They had been composed at intervals during the three previous years, so that some are very youthful productions indeed. It is not necessary to submit them to serious criticism. They show, not so much direct poetical impressions, as the influence upon a warm and lively fancy of the poetry that he had read. Their chief interest at this distance is biographic. They illustrate some events in his history, and show the kind of topics that interested him, and furnished themes for his early efforts in verse. Perhaps the truest note of feeling is uttered in the poem entitled "Lines on the Anniversary of a Mother's Death," and in the verses, recalling Cowper's lines, in which he mourns his loss : — " But thou art gone ! and I am left A heritage of tears ; My mourning soul, too soon bereft, Thy smile no longer cheers ; And bitterly the thought intrudes,. As through the world I roam, — Its cities are but solitudes. For I have lost my home. 1842.] JOINT AUTHORSHIP— A VOLUME OF VERSE. 41 " Why didst thou die, my mother ? why Deprive me of my guide ? Oh ! oft with aching heart I sigh And grieve that thou hast died ; For, what with frowning skies above. And struggling fears within, I'm sure I need a mother's love To woo my soul from sin. " But, mother, thou art happier far ! Thou standest near the Throne, And I must wage my spirit's war, And brave the world aloue ; Then oh ! let thy pure spirit be For ever hov'ring near. And in all trials whimper me, — ' Thy mother watches here.' " In a short poem with, the title " 'Tis good for us to weep," are the following verses, among the best written in his boyish years : — " The weak and wayward heart To earth so closely clings, That heaven, in mercy, deigns to part Us from our lovely things : So, when our joys are slain Beneath the angel's sword. Our bleeding hearts repent, and pain Reminds us of the Lord. " God hath marked out our way ; But when the sunbeams shine. Too oft our willing feet would stray Earth's fading flowers to twine ; And when to leave the track Our hearts would widely roam, He sends a storm to drive us back To Him, and heaven, and home." Two poems, entitled " Mary Stuart " and "Holy- rood," are chivalrous vindications of the Queen of Scots. 42 Vr. MORLEY PUNSHON. [CHAP. II. The most vigorous stanza of the former is the following : — " Ill-fated Queen ! the world can trace In thee the fortunes of thy race, The sorrows of thy line ; The grief that storms without control — The anguish of a Stuart's soul — A Stuart's death — were thine." The writing of verse long continued to be a recreation, but, as his true calhng grew upon him, and took completer possession of his life, it occupied an entirely subordinate position, and, while affording pleasure from time to time to himself and to his friends, never really came into competition with his more serious labours. CHAPTEE III. 1843— 1849. WOOL WICH— RICHMOND— iTA RDEN— WHITER A YEN- CARLISLE. Afjed 19 to 25. Resides with Rev. B. Clough, at "Woolwich.— A Candidate for the Ministry. — Richmond College. — A Painful Misunderstanding. — Sent to Marden. — Appointed to the Whitehaven Circuit. — Removes to Carlisle. — Letter to R. Ridgill. In August 1843 lie left Sunderland for Woolwich, and entered upon a course of theological study under the direction of Mr. Clough. Although full of heart and hope with respect to his work, it was not without a painful effort that he parted from his friends and relations in the north. The three years he had spent in Sunderland had been momentous ones. The events by which they had been marked included his father's death, and the consequent break-up of his home, the great quickening of his spiritual life, and the rise and growth of the conviction that he must become a minister of Christ. To his friend Lyth he writes : — " Woohoich, Aurfust 28t\ 1843. — I have now got somewhat settled in this neighbourhood. I like the face of the country very much, but Methodism is not northern Methodism. It may be more enlightened, but it has less feeling, and less power. I have preached both in Deptford 44 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. hi. and Woolwich chapels, and suppose I shall have to go to Greenwich soon, where, in a morning, they read prayers. Let us not forget to pray for each other, my friend. If health and circumstances favour, I am now fixed for the work of the ministry. Yesterday I was on board the Persia, which is going to take Barnabas Shaw out to Africa again. I could not help wishing I were going too. Oh for more of the spirit of Christ ! " To his cousin lie writes of " a lamentable and fearful depression " that had seized upon him. He could neither study nor make sermons. " If this should last there would be nothing for it but to give up all thought of the ministry." A few days later the cloud has lifted. He felt at once the comfort of the Lord, and rebuke for his despondency. On the Sunday evening he had preached in Spital- fields Chapel. It was crowded in every corner ; not less than two thousand five hundred persons present. About five hundred remained to the prayer-meeting, and there was reason to think that some souls were truly penitent. He had at first a stout Yorkshire prejudice against the liturgy, and could hardly bring himself to read the form of Morning Prayer to which so many of the congregations in London and the neighbourhood were accustomed. After reading prayers at Limehouse, he admits he may, in time, be able to profit by them. As for his recurring fits of depression, he determines to shut his eyes to difficulties until he shall have strength to do the braver thing, — look them in the face, and conquer them in the name of the Lord. He found much comfort in reading a short memoir of a Mr. T. M. Haswell, that had just appeared. It pleased him to notice the resemblance between his 1843-] A CANDIDATE FOR THE MimSTRY. 45 own circumstances and those of the subject of the memoir; a local preacher, about to seek admission to the ministry, just his own age, popular, of poetic tastes and tendencies, and, above all, one who had to struggle against the same temptations as beset himself — self-complacency and desire for fame. He longs to overcome these dangers as successfully as Haswell did. His aversion to pride of heart is made deeper and more settled. To one of his cousins he describes a service at Blackheath, where he had much blessing in spite of unsavoury surroundings : — " We are compelled to worship in a stable, fitted up as well as circum- stances will allow ; but it is a most wretched place. The walls are damp, and when the place is crowded, it is almost unbearable. Underneath the only window, at one end of the room, is a pig-stye, which effectually pre- vents us from opening the window ; and, moreover, such is the spirit of persecution in the place, that the owner of the stye occasionally rakes up the filth thereof for the purpose of annoying." He spent the first week of the new year in the Romford Circuit, to supply the place of a minister who was sick. In eight days he preached eleven times, met sundry classes, and walked forty miles. " So I think I have been tolerably worked." As the time drew near w^hen he must be formally proposed at the Circuit Quarterly Meeting as a candidate for the ministry, he passed through fresh searchings of heart. He felt unworthy to be a minister of Christ. He dreaded lest when he should wear the garb, and speak the language, and engage professionally in the service of rehgion, he should lose its inner life and spirit. In due course he passed the 'ordeal to which he had looked forward with mingled hope and fear. 46 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. hi. Proposed by the Superintendent Minister, and accepted by vote of the members of the Cii'cuit Quarterly Meeting, according to the unvarying rule of the Methodist Church, William Morley Punshon had passed the first of the gates that guard the approach to the Methodist ministry. Through the subsequent steps and stages he passed successfully, and early in September 1844 he entered the Theological Institution at Eichmond. Among the fifty-six candidates who were examined together in July 1844 were several who afterwards rose to distinction in the Methodist Ministry. Of these may be named Thomas M'CuUagh, President of the Conference in 1883 ; J. D. Geden, for twenty- five years Classical Tutor at Didsbury CoUege, and member of the Old Testament Eevision Company ; Samuel Coley, a preacher of altogether exceptional originality and beauty, who occupied for a few years the chair of Theology at Headingley College, and died, all too soon as it appeared, in 1880; and Benjamin Hellier, for twenty years Classical Tutor, and subsequently Governor of Headingley College. By Mr. M'Cullagh's kindness, his recoUectious of this examination are quoted here : — " When the roll was called, a young man of twenty, evidently keen of eye, and with curly locks, answered to the name of William Morley Punshon. ... I do not recollect that wo spoke to one another during the days we stood face to face at City Road. After our appointment to circuits by the Conference of the following year — he to Whitehaven and I to Workington — we very early formed the friendship which has stood the strain of thirty-si.x years. After meeting in Cumberland, one of our earliest conversations was on the incidents of the July examination. We agreed that a few of the Committee were unnecessarily severe with some of the candidates. With the President, John Scott, there was nothing to complain of ; but Dr. Bunting, ' behind the throne, and greater RICHMOND COLLEGE. 47 than the throne,' who possessed a giant's power, used it like a giant ; at least, so thought some of the examinees. Young Punshon fared better before the July Committee than some of his brother candidates ; but he told me that at the close of his examination at the May District Meeting he was rather worried by the number of questioners. Having afterwards to read some verses from the Bible, that the meeting might judge of the way in which he read the lessons in public worship, he created a smile by the passage which, without design, fell to his lot : ' How are they increased that trouble me ! Many are they that rise up against me,' " etc. Mr. Arthur, referring to the July examination, says : — " He was remarkable rather for the precocious reputation which whispered of his coming celebrity, than for anything that the examina- tion evoked. He was modest, collected, and clear." The following are extracts from letters written during this period : — " You will have heard that I passed the Quarterly Meeting, and thus far my way has been made plain. I meet with every encouragement from those who are around me, and I need it, for there are most formid- able discouragements within myself. . . . " I believe God is daily fitting me for the work by giving me to see my unfitness for it. It is when I have nothing that I most abound. I was never, I think, so deeply convinced of my own unworthiness as a few Sundays ago, when preaching the funeral sermon of one of our deceased members. The text was Psalm Ixxiii. 25, 26, ' Whom have I in heaven but Thee ? ' — chosen by herself on her deathbed. The spacious chapel was completely packed. Not an aisle could be seen, and the gallery stairs were crowded from top to bottom. When I entered the pulpit I was completely overpowered, . . . but the Lord was with me, and I was enabled to preach with freedom and power. ... I never felt more thoroughly humbled than when before that vast assembly." On entering the College at Eichmond he threw himself heartily into his studies. The Eev. Thomas Jackson was Theological Tutor, and the Eev. John Farrar Classical Tutor. Mr. Jackson has left in his Becollections of my oiun Life and Times (pp. 322 — 328) an interesting outline of his course of theological 48 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. hi. lectures. Both lie and Mr. Farrar were painstaking and competent teachers, and men of the highest character, then and for long years afterwards — to the beautiful old age which each was allowed to attain — held in great love and reverence throughout the Methodist Connexion. His notes of college lectures are very full, and written with characteristic neatness. The theological lectures are thirty-one in number, and include the doctrine of the Trinity, the Person of Christ, and the Creation and Fall of Man. In addition to these there are copious notes of a short course of lectures on natural philosophy, delivered by Mr. Farrar. A series of extracts from Puritan Divines, and parti- cularly from John Goodwin, shows Mr. Jackson's influence over his theological reading. But his life at Richmond came to a sudden and unexpected termination. After four short months of residence he left the College to return to it no more. At this distance of time it may be allowed, without attributing blame to any one, to express regret that such a proceeding was possible in the case of a student of much promise and of unblemished character. Taken in connection with the short and often interrupted course of his early education, it was peculiarly unfortunate that just as he was falling in with the conditions of college life and study, the order of things should be once more dislocated, and he himself transferred from the lecture-room and library to the duties and responsibihties of the ministry. It may, perhaps, be urged, not without plausibility, that the same Providence that had cast him to such an extent, even as a boy, upon I845-] 'LEA VES RICHMOND COLLEGE. 49 his own mental instincts and appetites, was once again setting aside arrangements which, for most men immeasurably the best, were not the best for him. The reason for his leaving the Institution must now be stated. Shortly after entering the College he found that he had been entered as a missionary student, and that he was there at the charges of the Missionary Society, which, in turn, would have a claim upon him to proceed, in course of time, to a foreign station. To this he did not feel prepared to consent, while his relatives were strongly opposed to it. After some negotiation the Missionary Society abandoned its claim to his services, and as it was considered that there were quite as many men in training for the home ministry as would be required, any necessity for his remaining longer at the College seemed to those in authority no longer to exist. Considering that he was immediately sent to supply a vacancy in the home ministry, and was forthwith caught in the whirl of its engagements, it is a httle difficult to follow the reasoning pursued. But it is needless to discuss the matter. His account of it shaU be given without further comment : — To THE Rev. J. Lyth. " Maidstone, February Qth, 1845. " Your letter addressed to Richmond has been forwarded to me here. / have left the Institution. Now just summon all your inventive powers to try and find out the reason. As you will not be able to guess, I will reveal it at once. I filled up my schedule with a general offer without consulting my friends, and on my entrance at Richmond I found I was regarded exclusively as a missionary student. Of course, as in duty bound, I made it known to my friends, and they objected to let me go abroad. This was notified to the authorities ; and, after many long and painful discussions, it was resolved (and how could it be otherwise ?) that 4 W. MORLE\ PUNSHON. [chap. hi. I could not any longer be continued as a missionary student . . . and as they had quite their number of home students, they had no room for me there. So here I am, on the ' list of reserve.' I cannot blame myself, except for want of explicitness at the London examination. I did then express my preference for the home work, but it seems they did not understand it. However, ' good out of this seeming ill ' will be educed for the candidates of future years, for they have discovered that there was a lack of explicitness on both sides ; and at future examinations the men are to be distinctly ' told for what service they are intended.' " On leaving the Theological Institution, Mr. Pun- shon's name was placed on the "list of reserve." Under this term, well understood by Methodist ministers, are included ministerial candidates of various classes who have as yet received no regular appointment from the Conference, and are at the dis- posal of the President for meeting emergencies and supplying vacancies in the ranks of the ministry. He had not long to wait for employment. A case of an exceptional kind had arisen in the village of Marden, in the Maidstone circuit, of which Mr. Clough was the Superintendent. Owing to ritual- istic, or, as the term was forty years ago, " Puseyite " practices, a number of persons who had been accustomed to worship at the parish church withdrew from it, and requested that a Methodist minister might be sent to them. In answer to this request Mr. Punshon was sent to Marden, to do his best in a somewhat delicate position. On his way thither he writes to his cousin : — "MAinsTONE, Fehniary bth, 1845. " You heard of the secession from the Church at Marden in Kent. The friends have handsomely come forward to pay my board if I will reside amongst them and be their minister. I have acceded to the proposal, so that I am now incumbent of Afarden ! It will be connected with the Maidstone circuit, and I shall change with the Maidstone preachers, which will make e work considerably easier, , , . There are, of course, dis- 1845-J HARDEN. 51 advantages. There are no Methodists in the place, and I shall have to try, under God, to make some. " Of course this is no Connexional arrangement. I am still on the list of reserve, and it does not at all guarantee my ' coming out ' any sooner. But it will be capital drill for the ranks, and I hope by God's blessing it will be beneficial both to me and the people among whom I labour." The hope expressed in the last sentence was happily realized. The agitation and unsettlement of mind caused by his removal from college subsided. To the delight of preaching was now added the interest of pastoral work. He gave his afternoons to visiting, and found that a minister has other means of usefulness to the souls of his people than those belonging to the pulpit. And what was good for them was no less serviceable to him. No man needs the disciphne of pastoral work more than the popular preacher. Tendencies to the unreal, the artificial, the high-flying, are best checked and qualified by intercourse with the sick and sorrowful, by experience of practical ministering amid the varied conditions of actual everyday life. The months spent at Harden were happy and useful ones. His preaching attracted large congregations. By some of his "parishioners," as he called them, he was strongly urged to seek orders in the Church of England, with the assurance that a church should be built for him. But neither then nor at any later period did he falter for a moment in his allegiance to Methodism. It cost him no effort to decline the kind proposal. He set himself rather, as he had playfully said, " to make some Methodists." A Society was organised, a chapel built, and when the time came for him to leave the Kentish village where he had served his short apprenticeship to the ministry, a probation before the probation which had its formal 52 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. hi. beginning at the Conference of 1845, he could look back with thankfulness on good work done and useful lessons learnt. In the Minutes of the Conference of 1845 the name of W. M. Punshon occurs for the first time. It stands under the head of " Preachers now received on trial," together with the names of Thomas M'Cullagh, George Mather, and Ebenezer Jenkins, almost the only survivors of the men of that year. Although his exceptional pulpit popularity was now becoming widely known, he was not appointed to one of the more important or exacting circuits. There is, indeed, something amounting almost to a tradition in Methodism, that distinguished men spend the earlier years of their ministry in obscure places. After a while the great centres claim their services and afford them more adequate sphere for their powers ; but scores of instances might be adduced to show that " country circuits " have been the training- ground of the men who have afterwards risen to honour and authority. A certain shrewd — not to say shrewish — critic of men and things a generation ago named Whitehaven as the kind of circuit to which high officials and other pampered personages might be sent with advantage for the subduing of their pride. To Whitehaven Mr. Punshon was appointed, assuredly not for this purpose, but possibly with the notion on the part of those in authority that hard work, scanty re- muneration, and the obscurity of the Cumberland dales would be peculiarly good for a young man of poetic and rhetorical tendencies, and precocious popularity. This was all fair enough, and, as has I845-] WHITE HA VEN. 53 been said, quite in accord with precedent. At this time Whitehaven was a circuit with two ministers and about three hundred members, and included a dozen or more country places on the coast and among the hills. For a young preacher there was plenty of fresh air and exercise, and abundant oppor- tunity for hard work amongst a sturdy, intelligent people, farmers and miners, seafaring men and thrifty townsfolk. At the very beginning of his work at Whitehaven, the "thorn in the flesh" from which he suffered again and again through all his earlier years made itself painfully felt. Various physical distresses, together with extreme nervous depression, brought him very low, and seemed to deliver him up to the darkest fears and imaginings. While his preaching astonished and delighted the congregations that flocked from every side to hear him, he seemed to himself to be losing the favour of God and the goodwill of men. He put himself under medical treatment ; he was galvanized, but hardly knew whether body or mind ailed most. His letters to his faithful, sister-like cousins are very touching in their disclosure of pain and despondency, the inner side of a Hfe whose outward course was one of unclouded popularity and favour. That his recurring depres- sion had its roots in a constitutional malady is undoubted, and in this he came to find a sort of satisfaction ; while in its higher and spiritual aspects he learned to accept it as chastisement for his profit, and to turn it to good account in the balance of his joys and sorrows. Having said this much, it is not necessary to quote 54 IV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chaP. ni. in detail his descriptions of his depressed state of mind. An example or two will suffice : — To HIS Cousin. "Whitehaven, September \lth, 1845. " You may well ask what is the matter, and I can hardly tell, only that I am ill and unhappy. ... I should not at all wonder if a month sees the end of my ministerial life. All my old Hull feelings — do you remember them ? — aggravated into intense force by the pressure of disease — for the same strange malady yet haunts me— have returned upon me. . . . The harrowing suspicion has come across me that my brain was going. I am almost convinced that I shall have to leave the ministry." To THE Rev. J. Lytii. " Whitehaven, September nth, 1845. " You may have perhaps heard that I have been ill. . . . I am still_ anything but well, and my only consolation is my work. A nervous melancholy has taken possession of me which at times oppresses me grievously. " This is a hard circuit ; our shortest distance is nearly five miles, and our longest about fifteen, and we have no conveyance but our vile bodies. Our financial matters are at the idtiina thule, but wo hope against hope to rise. " You would see in the W atchman the opening of our Harden Chapel. It is a glorious thing, if well managed. I have no doubt of the people's steadfastness, but all will depend upon the preacher now appointed. The first year wins or loses the battle. I have done something, or rather, God has done something by me, for the Connexion, and I shall look back upon the period of my residence in Marden, and thank God that I have not lived in vain." To HIS Cousin. "Whitehaven, September 2bth, 1845. " I write this morning to let you know that I am better in spirit and prospect, although not much improved in health. ... So far as I know my own heart, I have an ardent desire to belong to Christ, to forsake all sin, and to be made useful to those around me. " I was much encouraged on Sunday evening, preaching at Harrington, a small seaport about five miles distant. Wo had a very lively pi-ayer- meeting, and it is the first I have seen for a long time. One poor back- slider was in great distres.s. " My Superintendent is a very nervous invalid, who has had a paralytic stroke, and is threatened with another, so that the circuit is but poorl}' 1846]. REV. r. APCt/LLAGIf'S HECOLLECIIONS. 55 furnished in its ministers. Oh that God may choose the weak things to confound the wisdom of the wise ! " To HIS Cousin. "Whitehaven, April 2nd, 184G. " I have promised not to engage myself to any other circuit than this for the next year until after the June quarter-day. I went to the meet- ing on Monday with a negative prepai'ed, and I stated it pretty plainly ; but the in^'itation was not only unanimous, but given with such warmth and affection that it compelled me to pause. It will be a terribly up-hill year for me if I do stay, because I shall have to begin it without a single sermon. " The good work continues. We have had some souls gathered in nearly every Sunday night. Our numbers show an increase of twenty- five, and thirteen on trial. The Lord be praised for this small measure of prosperity. " Poor Wayte ! You would perhaps see the death of a young missionary in Sierra Leone. He was with me in the Institution, — a most devoted little fellow, offered himself specially for that murderous clime, and was only there three weeks when death completed his sacrifice." Although the note of depression frequently re- appears in his letters, it was not observable in his public work and general intercourse with his people. In these, by a swift and happy re-action from gloom and distressful questionings, he found deliverance from the adversary, and was full of fervour and enthusiasm, or bright with a genial, sunny playful- ness that had a great charm for those around him. Mr. M'CuUagh's recollections of this period will be read with interest : — " It was my happiness to hear Mr. Punshon's first missionary speech. It was delivered at Harrington, a quaint little seaport, then in the Whitehaven circuit. As I was the ' stranger ' from Workington, he urged me, as ' the deputation,' to make ' the 'collection speech.' I was suffering from hoarseness, and so I resolutely refused. As I listened to his oration, for such it was, I felt very thankful for my hoarseness, for I do not think I could have spoken after such a speech. I was prepared for something good, as accounts reached Workington almost daily of the wonderful young preacher who had come to Whitehaven. . . . But when 56 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. in. I heard for myself, I found that the half had not been told me. The rush of brilliant thoughts and burning words, the perfect whirlwind of eloquence, almost took away my breath. I do not know that I was more enraptured with his speeches at Exeter Hall in after years, than with that first platform effort during the first few weeks of his ministry. We used to call it his ' Excitement Speech,' as he dwelt in it upon the excitements of novelty, opposition, and success, by which the missionary enterprise had been supported in turns, until at last it came to rest upon principle. I no longer wondered that such an orator succeeded in filling the large, half- empty chapel at Whitehaven with admiring hearers before his first month in the circuit was over. "In the May of 184G he attended his first District Meeting at Carlisle. He and I lodged together at a village two miles from the city, and as we had to preach on successive mornings at five o'clock, an early start was necessary. We arranged between us that he was to remain awake all night in order to waken me, as I had to preach the first morning. I promised to do the same for him the next night ; but, alas ! the willing spirit was overmatched by the weak flesh, and the watchman overslept himself. Finding ourselves considerably behind time, in order to recover some of it we ran the whole of the two miles. Arrived at the chapel, we found the Rev. Samuel Rowe giving out a hymn from his pew. Mr. Punshon entered the pulpit, and preached a remarkably beautiful and eloquent sermon. After the service I breakfasted with some of the ministers at the house of Mr. James. The preacher of the morning not being present, much of the conversation at the brealcfast-table turned on the sermon, wonderful from any one, but especially from a probationer in his first year." Soon after returning from Carlisle he writes to his cousin : — " WiiiTKii.wEN, May 2bth, 184G. " I am completely exhausted this morning. Thank God it was worth my labour. Two were made to rejoice last night, and there were three others in distress. There was a magnificent congregation. " I imagine Carlisle will be my next year's abiding-place (mind, this is yet a secret). I was there this week at the District Meeting. I have had invitations from Hexham, Gainsborough, and Sevenoaks. I hope the Lord will direct me. I wish to be in all things guided by Him. I am going to reprint Wild Flowers." In the summer of this year he and his friend M'Cullagh went together to Keswick to speak at a meeting. They took the opportunity to make a short 1846.] VISIT TO THE LAKE DISTRICT. 57 tour through the Lake District, It was a time of intense enjoyment to them both, as, in addition to many other bonds of brotherliness, they were one in their love of nature, and susceptibility to poetic influences. They went on pilgrimage to Greta Hall, so long the residence of Southey, then but three years dead. Mr. M'Cullagh noticed a characteristic of his companion's mind that was undoubtedly an abiding one, — that "human sympathies, social in- stincts, and admiration of genius" were more quick and sensitive with him than the feeling for nature, although the latter was by no means dull and undis- cerning. He says : — " The poetical associations of the district invested the landscapes with additional attractions to him. He remembered that we were in the region of the Lake Poets as well as at the Lakes. In Lays of Hope, pub- lished soon after this visit, are some lines on ' Lowdore,' in which the author says more in praise of Southey than of the waterfall. ... In speaking of the Scottish lochs, he told me that in sailing down Loch Katrine, in order to enjoy it with intenser relish, he read The Lady of the Lake all the time. " After rambling on the shores of Derwentwater, and visiting the water- fall, we returned to Keswick, and had a glorious meeting. The White- haven minister spoke in his usual style, and so excited were myself and the late Robert Haworth, who was then stationed at Keswick, that neither of us was able to go to sleep the livelong night, but we chatted until morning." The sermon preached in Carlisle at five o'clock on a May morning was memorable for something more than the run of two miles that preceded, or the immediate impression made upon those who heard it. The Methodists of Carlisle set their hearts upon securing Mr. Punshon for their circuit when he should leave Whitehaven, and, as appears from the hint given to his cousin, they at once informed him 58 tV. MoRLEV PVNSItoM. [chap. 111. of their desire. Accordingly, on completing his second year at Whitehaven, he was appointed to Carlisle, and removed thither at the beginning of September 1847. Almost immediately afterwards he wrote at con- siderable length to his old friend Eidgill, then com- pleting his four years' probation as a missionary in South Ahica, and about to be married. He congratulates him warmly upon his approaching happiness, and, after the manner of the boyish and romantic days whose memory was so dear to both, finds prose too tame a medium for his thoughts, and utters them in verse. He, too, has a deep, pure happiness in which he would have his friend rejoice with him. He has won the love of the most amiable, intelligent, and pious of maidens, and cannot thank God sufiiciently that after long hoping and waiting he is now engaged to Maria, daughter of Mr. Vickers of Gateshead. " And now, as to myself. My prevailing feeling is a deep and painful consciousness of unwortliiness, pressing upon me at times so as to be almost intolerable. . . . The hue of earthliness is upon my actions, my distrust is so dishonourable, my love so languid, my worldliness so intense, that I hardly dare believe I am a child of God. . . . My position is a perilous one. I am generally popular, the breath of indiscreet praise wafts so oft across my soul, that I am in danger of thinking more highly of myself than I ought to think, and it has struck me that God keeps me humble by scant prosperity in my own soul. When the acclamations by which I have been greeted, and the attachment I have inspired, would have elated me beyond measure, I have sadly breathed, as I contem- plated the sinfulness within, ' Ah ! if they knew my heart ! ' and the thought has been a stern schoolmaster to drive me to Christ. Oh ! my brother, it is a hard matter to keep always humbly at tlie feet of Jesus. The bribe of talent, of applause, and, above all, because most like an angel of God, the bribe of usefulness, are very dangerous, and can only be withstood by vigilant, unceasing prayer. . . . " When I last wrote you I was in Whitehaven, and, I think, had just 1846.] LETTER TO THE ReV. R. RIDG/LL. 59 entered upon my second year. I was unanimously invited to remain a third year in the circuit, but it seemed to me that my work there was done. I could number about sixty who ascribed their conversion, under God, to my instrumentality. I had invitations from Hexham, Bishop Auckland, and Workington, but my predilections were in favour of Carlisle. Still, I did not wish to choose my appointment, so I accepted none. Here I am, however, by appointment of Conference, and if the powers that be are ordained of God, and He blessed all their proceedings, — which I somewhat doubt, seeing the unjustifiable means sometimes resorted to in order to secure good circuits, etc., — I may suppose it is providential. " I am now in my study, in sight of the fine old cathedral whose ' merrie chime ' gives it a sympathy with humanity, and makes one feel as though the mighty mass had a knowledge of mortal joy and woe, and concealed within its majestic bosom a heart of flesh and blood. To the right is the time-honoured Castle that has stood some seven sieges, and in the time of border feuds was the defence of the English frontier. There is the old dungeon in which Fergus Maclvor was confined, and Gallows Hill, where he expiated with his life his mad devotion to the Stuarts. The view from the Castle rampart is exceedingly beautiful. A vast extent of fertile country stretches in rich landscape before you, through which the Eden meanders, its glossy waters reflecting the sunbeams that delight to wanton with the silvery stream. Our cause is low, having been rent by the demon of division. Our labour is almost confined to the city. The country places are very miserable. With the exception of ' Warwick ' there is not one worth mention, and our sanctuaries are either cramped dwelling-houses where we are ' cribbed, cabined, and confined,' or schoolrooms ranging in dignity between a hen-house and a stable, somewhat too orderly for the one, scarcely so respectable as the other. 'Warwick' derives its importance principally from Warwick Hall, the lady of which, Mrs. Parker, is a member of the Society. I dined with her on Sabbath last in company with her brother, James Heald, M.P., one of the two Methodists who have been drafted into Parliament by the last election. Our chapel in Carlisle is good, and our congregations increasing. I hope, upon the whole, there is prospect of blessing. I have an active Superintendent (the Rev. Edward Sumner), who is also Chairman of the District ; which I esteem an advantage, tending as it does to initiate me in District business, and I trust ' the beauty of the Lord will be upon us,' and that the year on which we are entering will be marked by much saving power. . . . " The last has been a somewhat stormy Conference. The case of Caughey, the American Revivalist, has created a great deal of discussion. Many of our people are displeased with the stoppage put upon his labours by the Conference. Others — amongst them, myself — deem them right in 6o W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. hi. the thing, but grievously wrong iu the manner. Be that as it may, many heart-burnings have been created which time alone can allay, if they be allayed at all. . . . Considerable excitement has been caused by the publication of certain ' Fly-sheets ' reflecting on the proceedings and governmental acts of Dr. Bunting and his party, written in a bad spirit, and containing extremely vile imputations of motives, yet containing withal much deep and telling truth. The ' Fly-sheets ' were condemned by a vote of Conference, unanimous except Dr. Beaumont and S. Dunn. A resolution was then moved that the preachers should sign a Declaration expressive of their abhorrence, and disavoAving all connection with the authorship. Then came the tug of war. They debated five or six hours upon it ; principal speakers for the Declaration, Wm. Vevers, George Osborn, John Scott, Dr. Bunting ; against it, A. E. Farrar, A. Bell, J. Fowler, S. Dunn, Dr. Beaumont. At last it was carried by a show of bands so nearly equal that the President hesitated for some moments to pronounce the decision. It was consequently sent round. Many, I sup- pose, have refused to sign, — I, with my usual obstinacj', amongst the rest. " Just before Conference, I was down at Marden, preaching their anniversary sermons. The cause is prospering nicely. They have now about twenty-five members, and are likely, I hope, to be established. I reflect upon that part of my life with almost unmixed satisfaction, chastened still by the remembrance of my own unworthiness. . . . " I am still a monomaniac in autograph gathering, upon which I bestow a relaxing thought sometimes when my bow is unstrung. " You would hardly, before leaving England, hear of George Steward, one of the most eloquent of our preachers. His grasp of mind is immense, and I should think it no exaggeration to say he is equal to Watson in power, and superior in his perception of the beauty of truth. He is not popular. His preaching is too ethereal, and his delivery unpleasant, but the intelligent of his congregation esteem him very highly. " We have had warm work in defending ourselves from the attacks of The Christian Witness, a publication edited by Dr. Campbell, which has opened a furious cannonade against our polity. Yevevs and John H. James, the latter especially, have written well in our defence. The Evangelical Alliance, I fear, will be productive of but little good while this demon of party remains unexorcised. " The late election has been a very strange one ; memorable for the return of Lord Ashley at Bath, and defeat of Roebuck ; for the rejection of Macaulay at Edinburgh, and the drafting into the House of such men as F. O'Connor, George Thompson, W. J. Fox, and others, and for the complete fusion of parties. We shall see what the ensuing session brings forth. The general opinion is that the Parliament will be a short one. Lord John Russell, after all, is the most candid and consistent statesman in the bunch. I hope the country will give him a fair trial. 1846.] COURSE OF READING. 61 " What have you read lately ? I am making Wesley's ' Christian Library ' my staple reading for this year. There are some fine massive truths in the old divines. The very dust of their thoughts is gold dust. I have not a very large library as yet, but it is large enough for a young man. " I have to go to Brampton to preach missionary sermons on Sunday, and address a missionary meeting on Monday. I wish you would just come over as an unexpected deputation ! Do you get the ' Notices ' out yonder ? If so, have you seen a letter from Edward J. Robinson from Ceylon ? He is one of the most gifted fellows the Society has ever sent out, but very eccentric. He and I passed together at the London District Meeting. " Adieu, my dear Richard. Let us live near to God, preach the truth in its simplicity and power, and many shall be the crown of our rejoicing in the day of God." The reference to Wesley's Christian Lihrary as furnishing his staple reading may, perhaps, need explanation. It consists of a vast series of extracts, in the original edition extending to fifty volumes, selected by Wesley from the best theological writers in the English language, with translations of early Christian writers, and of moderns like Pascal and Arndt. It includes what were, in his judgment, the most valuable writings of Anglican divines like Hall, Taylor, Leighton, Beveridge, and John Smith; and of such Puritans as Owen and Goodwin, Sibbes and Manton, Baxter and Howe. This library of practical divinity, prepared for the use of the early Methodists generally, and of the preachers in particular, is one of many proofs that Wesley's ideals both in doctrine and devotion were sober and conservative. The energy with which he pursued his evangelistic labours was not greater than that with which he strove to give the spiritual life of his people adequate nourishment and discipline. The first few genera- tions of Methodist preachers were, to a large 62 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. hi. extent, "brought up" on the Christian Library^ to which their great leader did not fail to direct their attention with such exhortations and reproofs as seemed necessary. But its value relatively diminished as time went on. The biblical and theological writings of Adam Clarke and Eichard Watson possessed a fresher and more immediate interest for the younger men. Moreover, the grow- ing abundance and cheapness of religious literatm-e, and the charm of contemporary thought and writing as compared with the ancient, threw this stout array of divines more and more into the rear, — which, in such cases, means the remoter shelves of libraries and the recesses of second-hand book shops. Here and there a young minister was found courageous enough to face the course of study followed by his fathers, and read Divinity under John Wesley's guidance, — for the most part greatly to his advan- tage. Mr. Punshon was one of these. It furnished a kind of reading well fitted to qualify and supple- ment his characteristic tendencies. These carried him, as is apparent through his whole life, towards poetry, eloquence, and human afi'airs ; and with his enormous and ever-increasing facility of utterance, it was well for him to serve apprenticeship in private to the grave masters of Anglican and Puritan orthodoxy. For the rest, his letter to Mr. Kidgill shows him happy in his work and in his engagement with Miss Vickers ; not altogether delivered from the depression and morbid self-reproach which in earlier years had often filled his soul with gloom, but evidently less and less exposed to their influence as his life widened out 1846.] MINISTRY AT CARLISLE. 63 in energetic and successful work, and his heart was soothed by the loving sympathy of one who was to be his wife ; strongly interested in Methodist affairs, in the leading men and public measures of the Church in which he was rapidly becoming known ; and still, as in his boyish days, taking pleasure in observing and discussing the ways of Parliament. The popularity to which he alludes had now fairly assumed the character, though not yet the dimen- sions, that it was to retain for so many years. To the old chapel in Fisher Street streamed crowds of eager hearers, and all the calm proprieties of the staid cathedral city were stirred to their very depths. The recognised classifications of orthodox and heterodox. Church people and Nonconformists, pro- fessional men and tradespeople, were confounded in this new order of things. Persons found themselves side by side in the Methodist chapel who had never been in one before, who had never met one another there or elsewhere. Anglican clergymen. Dissenting ministers, Koman Catholics and Quakers, gentlefolks from the city and squires from the country, lawyers and doctors, shopkeepers, farmers, and labourers, with here and there an itinerant actor, — all sorts and conditions of men to be found in or near the old Border capital, flocked to hear the young preacher, and to be excited, subdued, moved by a pulpit oratory unlike anything they had ever heard. It was not subtlety or originality of thought, or novelty of doctrine, that drew the crowds and held them in breathless, often almost painful, suspense. In respect of doctrine it was Methodist preaching as generally understood, and there was little sign of 64 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. hi. new or deeper insight into familiar tmtli ; but there was a glow, a sweep, an exulting rush of quick- following sentences, exuberant in style, — too much so, a critic might say, — that culminated now and again in passages of overwhelming declamation, or sank to a tender pathos that brought tears to un- accustomed eyes. His whole soul was in his work. The ornate, musical sentences, full of harmonious delights for the ear, were no mere literary devices ; they were his natural mode of expression, raised and quickened by the emotions of the preacher's heart. His voice, often harsh and husky at first, would clear and strengthen as he proceeded, revealing unexpected range and power of modulation. His constrained, uneasy attitude grew free and graceful; he stood erect ; the left arm held behind him, with his right hand, instinct with nervous life, he seemed to grasp his audience, to summon and dismiss arguments, to cut his way through difficulties, until, with uplifted face, radiant with spiritual light, both hands were outstretched in impassioned climax, or raised as in contemplation of some glory seen from afar. Meanwhile, the crowded congregation was borne along with him. Commonplace, unimaginative people, and susceptible youths and maidens, the refined and reserved, and dull honest peasants, good old saints and careless sinners, — all alike came under the spell of his pulpit power. To not a few his ministry at this time was the means of conversion and newness of Hfe ; to very many it brought help and nourishment, stimulus and strength ; while to multitudes it was the disclosure of unimagined 1848.] MINISTRY A2 CARLISLE. 6S beauty and impressiveness in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, with what results the day will declare. Even to the little handfuls of country people in the villages he gave of his best. There was no need at that time to husband his strength or economise his resources. Those were happy days of youthful fi-eshness and vigour; and chapel, barn, or farmer's kitchen, — it was all one to him, if there were souls to preach to. In one country place in the circuit, the people met in the single room of a cottage, where, for lack of space, some had to sit upon the four-post bed which stood in the corner. It is still remem- bered how, on one occasion, an uncouth rustic came thither, and sat with eyes and mouth wide open in astonishment, listening and staring, until, unable longer to contain himself, he gave utterance, in the very middle of an eloquent passage, to a long emphatic " Coo-o-sh ! " of wonder and amazement. In July 1849 his period of residence at Carlisle came to a close, and with it the customary term of ministerial probation. To use official language, " he had travelled four years," and the time had arrived for being admitted into full connection with the Conference. His ordination and his marriage, both eagerly anticipated, were now near at hand ; and full of gratitude for the past, and of bright hopes for the future, he appeared at the Conference which assembled in Manchester on the 25th of July. CHAPTER IV. 1849—1855. NEWCASTLE, SHEFFIELD. Aged 25 to 31. The Manchester Conference. — Ordination. — Marriage. — Appointed to Newcastle. — " The Agitation." — Recollections by Mr. Arthur and Dr. Parker. — Removes to Sheffield.— Family Life and Circuit Work. — First Appearance at Exeter Hall. — The Prophet nf Horeb. — Growing Popularity. The Conference of 1849 is memorable in the annals of Methodism. The agitation and un- easiness that had prevailed throughout the Con- nexion for some time past called for prompt and reassuring action. The particular plague that needed to be stayed was that of anonymous pamphleteering, in which all reasonable limits of free criticism were passed, and the bitterest personal slanders were sown broadcast. With a connexional polity like that of Methodism, and with the discipline of mutual inquiry and oversight which, from the beginning, Methodist ministers have exercised among themselves, it was inevitable that the Conference should use whatever authority it possessed to discover and reprimand the authors of an unworthy and mischievous agitation. It will be remembered that at an earlier stage of the matter Mr. Punshon had spoken of the anonymous 1849.] THE MANCHESTER CONFERENCE. 67 pamphlets as written in a bad spirit, and contain- ing extremely vile imputations of motives, and yet containing much deep and telling truth." As the agitation progressed, and his acquaintance with its real meaning increased, he modified the latter part of this opinion, and was confirmed in the former. In the unhappy conflicts that shook the Connexion for some five following years, and in which the loss of 100,000 members was sustained, he bore his part with full conviction that in opposing the ill-omened "reform" he was contending for the interests of truth, of fi'eedom, and of religion. But that was yet in the future. A probationer on the eve of ordination, it was not for him to do more than listen to Con- ference debates, to watch the course of events, and to form such judgments of the men engaged and the issues involved as he was able. The Kev. Thomas Jackson, Theological Tutor during his brief residence at Eichmond College, was elected President, and the Eev. John Hannah, Theological Tutor at Didsbury College, Secretary. During the sessions of the Conference Mr. Punshon and his friend M'CuUagh sat side by side in a front pew of the gallery in Oldham Street Chapel, second only to City Road Chapel in its historic associations, — associations that have now no local habitation to cling to, but which will be preserved, it may be hoped, in fitting chronicles, and in Manchester tradition, for generations to come. Mr. M'Cullagh writes : — " From our coigne of vantage we watched with intense interest the proceedings of Conference. We heard the two speeches of Thomas Jackson, one after his election to the chair, the other in introducing the question of ' Character,' — both dehvered with solemn earnestness, and foreboding the disciplinary measures which followed, and have made 68 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. iv. that Conference memorable. We witnessed the exciting scene when James Everett appeared at the bar, and was questioned with regard to his connection with the ' Fly-sheets,' and we heard the sentence of expulsion. . . . Mr. Punshon was much struck with the debating power of the Conference, and, notwithstanding his own special oratorical gifts, he greatly coveted this peculiar kind of ability, in which, however, he never attained the same excellence as that to which he attained in the prepared deliverances of the pulpit and the platform." Among the young ministers completing their probation at this Conference were no less than five who in after years rose to the position of President, viz., William M. Punshon, Thomas M'Cullagh, J. H. Eigg, Ebenezer Jenkins, and Eichard Eoberts. At the public examination, when it is customary for the men about to be ordained to give some account of their call to the ministry, Mr. Punshon spoke calmly and modestly : — ' He felt that next to his conversion to God, his ordination was the most important crisis of his life. Remembering the way in which he had been led, and the unmerited mercies he had enjoyed, that he had been made a child of God through faith in Christ, and called to the sacred work of the ministry, he felt overwhelmed with gratitude. He was the child of pious parents, and was instructed in the fear of God and taught to reverence His ministers and read His Word. He scarcely remembered the time when he was not the subject of religious impressions. The first conviction of which he had distinct remembrance was produced when he was about nine years of age by a sermon from the Rev. W. H. Taylor, but it was not until his fourteenth year that the voice came by which he was really awakened to seek the Lord. It came from his mother's grave. . . . ' During the years of his probation he had laboured uuder much dis- couragement and depression, but God had upheld, and both humbled and gladdened him by giving him seals to his ministry. His conviction was unfaltering and constant that he was where God would have him be. He felt also that he was called to labour in the ranks of the Wesleyan Ministry. His love for Methodism was not merely hereditary, it was the result of enlightened and sincere conviction. He knew not where he couW find greener pastures or stiller watere, and while he trusted he should alwjvys cherish fraternal feelings towards all the children of God, here was his home.' 1849.] NE WCA STLE- UPON- TYNE. 69 The ordination took place in Irwell-Street Chapel, the charge being delivered by Dr. Newton. Mr. Pimshon left Manchester a few days after his ordination. He had made the acquaintance of the assembly of which he was soon to become a dis- tinguished member. He had begun to understand it and to love it, to gain an insight into its spirit and modes of procedure, and to revere the great principles which it embodied and maintained. Attracted and impressed by various types of intellectual and spiritual power, he listened with delight to the preaching of Mr. Steward and the speeches of Mr. Osborn. To each of these, in his respective sphere, he assigned the palm of superiority over all others. He himself w^as appointed to preach on a Sunday afternoon at Ebenezer Chapel, Redbank. A considerable number of ministers came to hear him, and he preached a powerful sermon from John x. 10, " I am come that they might have life," etc. Before the Conference closed he was appointed to Newcastle- upon-Tyne, a circuit having four ministers and about sixteen hundred members. He was the youngest of the four, and his colleagues were William Burt, William Pemberton, and William Andrews. His four years of probation for the ministry and his two years' engagement to Miss Vickers were com- pleted at the same time. His ordination was the seal of the former, and his marriage almost imme- diately afterwards brought the latter to its happy conclusion. Like himself, Maria Yickers was the child of Christian parents, and had been trained in a devout Methodist home. She is described by those who knew her as of a sweet and lively disposition. ?0 tr. MORLEY PVNStlOM. [chap. IV, and possessing an almost exuberant flow of spirits. She had a marked capacity for friendship, and from childhood was noted for her strong attachments and for the constancy with which she held to her friends. She was in full sympathy with the aims of a minister's life, and well fitted by character, training, and per- sonal experience of religion to be a true helper to her husband. From the home of her parents in Gates- head to her new home in Newcastle she had but to cross the Tyne, and with every promise of happiness that heart could wish, amid the prayers and blessings of their many friends, she became the wife of William Morley Punshon. They were married at the Wesleyan Chapel, Gateshead, on the 22nd August, 1849. Newcastle was a very different sphere of labour from those in which Mr. Punshon's lot had hitherto been cast. Whitehaven and Carlisle were not to be named in comparison with the capital of north-east England for population, wealth, and industrial enter- prise. The swarming populations of Tyne-side, rugged, strong-willed, warm-hearted, might well move to its depths the heart of a young minister. There is, indeed, no more vigorous, capable humanity on English ground — capable of good or evil, of brutal wickedness or high-strung, manly religion. From its earliest days Methodism has fastened upon this region with a strong grasp. Second only to London and Bristol in the honours of Methodist history, Newcastle has been the scene of some of its most characteristic successes. From John Wesley's day to the present time Methodism in Newcastle has maintained an earnest and effective witness for Christ, and been the means of turning multitudes *' from dark- 1849.] MINISTRY IN NEWCASTLE. ness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God." The Tyne-siders are by no means unsusceptible of the charms of eloquent utterance, but they are perhaps less inclined than most people to be put off with mere words. They want to know what a man means as well as to hear what he says, and are dis- posed to weigh and judge his thought whatever be the charm of his style. If some doubted whether the preacher who had drawn crowded congregations at Whitehaven and Carlisle would succeed among the "canny" Newcastle folk, the doubt was not un- natm-al. Moreover, Newcastle had knowledge of the best preachers Methodism had produced. The tradi- tion of good preaching was well established. The standard of comparison was high. And besides the native shrewdness, sure to detect what was showy and nothing more, there were ancient men and women in the congregations well experienced in Christian doctrine, who would give little thanks to a preacher, though he spoke with the tongues of men and of angels, unless he preached the gospel in its fulness and depth. Mr. Punshon was not unconscious of what was involved in his appointment to Newcastle. His apprenticeship was over. The privileges attaching to precocity had expired by lapse of time. From a promising youth he had become a man, to be tested and judged by the standards that are applied to men. Great expectations had been raised, and must be met ; great opportunities opened out before him, and he must rise to their height, or make conspicuous failure. He entered upon his work witli unfeigned humility, TV. MORLEY PUNS HON. [chap. IV. but without fear, sustained by his trust in God, and the sympathy of his true-hearted wife. As a preacher he took possession at once of the wider sphere that Newcastle afforded. His popu- larity was immediate and unbroken. The Methodist Societies were, however, sorely disturbed by the agitation that followed the disciplinary action of the Conference ; and, as often happens at such times, base elements from outside were drawn in, and the world's worst manners increased and embittered the controversies of the Church. His friend M'Cullagh was stationed in the Shotley Bridge Circuit, only fourteen miles away, running a course akin to his own in usefulness and honour ; and by correspondence and personal intercourse they strengthened one another for the duty of those difficult times. Mr. M'CuUagh says : — " He wrote saying, * Are you quiet in Shotley ? We have a good deal of agitation here, but unless Everett comes in person I think it will soon subside.' Matters, however, grew worse, and after a time he wrote to say, ' I have had my first public hissing.' This treatment he received from a mob which waylaid the Leaders' Meeting at Brunswick Chapel, to express disapprobation of some act of discipline which had been exercised. Mr. Pemberton, afraid to face the mob, clambered over the walls of back yards to make good his escape to his own house. This good man soon after fell into ill-health and died. His death, it was thought, was hastened by the anxieties and annoyances to which he had been subjected. His colleague, Punshon, easily rose superior to the difficulties of the position. The tide of his pulpit popularity, moreover, swept all opposition before it. However some might condemn the action of the Conference, the people were irresistibly drawn to hear this young Apollos, this 'eloquent man and mighty in the Scriptures.' Many came from other circuits to hear him. At Hexham, twenty miles up the Tyne, there were some who ran down frequently to Newcastle for the purpose."' It is not intended here to refer in any controversial spirit to what was once well-known to Methodists as i850.] ' ' THE A GIT A TION. ' ' 73 "the Agitation." It has passed into history, — it might almost be said, ancient history. Its ashes are cold, and if any one desired to kindle them anew, he would find it impossible to do so. Such mention as it receives here arises solely from the fact that Mr. Punshon was, of necessity, caught within its toils, and that it cannot therefore be wholly omitted from the story of his life. In a letter addressed to a friend at Carlisle, he discussed the matter at considerable length, and, as will be seen, with much vigour of criticism and general effectiveness. A meeting had been held by " Eeformers " in Carlisle, at which Methodists were urged to "stop the supplies," that is to say, withhold their pecuniary support from the ministry and the institutions of Methodism. " But fifteen years have elapsed, my friend, as you painfully know, since the Carlisle Wesleyan Society was rent in pieces on the very points that are now disputed. No new feature has been introduced into the controversy. Ministerial assumption, reckless expenditure, tyrannical conduct of the Conference, — these were the charges dinned into your ears usque ad nauseam in the unhallowed strifes of 1835. ' Stop the supplies ' was as unsparingly recommended then as now . Nay, some of the minor actors in the former drama again strut upon the stage, having learned nothing by experience, and are anxious to be constitution-mongers stiU. . . . " I was somewhat surprised, I confess, to find the name of the chair- man. But, though gifted by Providence with social position, and endow- ments which might have qualified him for honourable and lasting usefulness, he is a true child of Reuben, — ' unstable as water, he shall not excel.' . . . He appears to have become proficient only in certain parts of grammar ; to wit, the indefinite article, the future tense, and the infini- tive mood. Certain parties to be called upon for subscriptions ; certain districts to he visited ; certain improvements in Sabbath school manage- ment to be made ; and they remain in futuro to the end of the chapter. His verbs all signify to be, and to suffer, but never to do. I was some- what surprised to find that for nearly a whole twelvemonth he had remained a Reformer ; but he who has been ' everything by turns and nothiaig long ' cannot all at once be transformed, and I do not despair of 74 tV. MOkLEV PUmttON. [cHAf. IV. hearing by-and-bye that he has convened a meeting in favour of the Divine right of kings. Seriously, it is matter of lamentation that a gentleman generally intelligent should surrender his better judgment for the equivocal honour of a back seat in the cave of Adullam." After commenting upon the speech of the gentle- man who moved the first resolution, he continues thus : — " To crown all, he brings a charge of impiety against nearly every Christian Church. The Estabhshment, Congregationalist, Baptist, Presby- terian, Catholic, all are included in his tremendous anathema. Methodism is under his special malediction, and even his pet ' Association ' has some pretty little ' Reverends ' of its own. \Vhat must the poor man do ? The Scotch Baptist Church seems to be the only place of refuge. But even here he cannot be accommodated, for that quiet community are in the habit of minding their own business, and his genius would have no scope amongst them. Alas for him ! He is the orphan of Christendom, and must stand in his glory a spiritual Ishmael, ' his hand against every man's, and every man's hand against him.' ... I was almost disposed to pass the next resolution unnoticed, when I saw the mover's name. ' It's only M ,' rose to my lips, and I was nearly decided. It is said that when members of the House of Commons arrive just as a division is about to take place, and there is no time for them to acquaint themselves with the merits of the matter in hand, they are accustomed to inquire on which side a certain gallant colonel has ranged himself, and they immediately vote on the opposite, assured that they will not be far wrong. The illus- tration bears upon the present case. Dissatisfied alike with the Methodists and the Association, at war with everything and everybody, known as the horse-fly of the Society for years, blessed with a conscience that might supply all the boarding-schools in the city with indiarubber for a twelve- month, inventing a story about the scholars being supplied with a liberal allowance of port wine and other delicacies, in order to damage the Kings- wood Collection, he is the very man to do the dirty work from which his more respectable compeers shrink, and move the resolution about stopping the supplies. " Mr. J. H seconded the resolution. I fear, I greatly fear, the Con- ference must give up. They c;in stand out no longer. Mr. J. H has withdrawn his support. Mr. J. H has gone over to the enemy. And who is Mr. J. H ? A youth escaped from the nursery ! And he, as if determined to out-herod Herod, accused the Conference of duplicity, and, borrowing wholesale and verbatim from an older rebel in the Wexhi/an Tiiiiex, modestly compared liimself with Wesley, Knox, Luther, and Jesus Chri.st. So true is it that which hath been shall he, and still, as in 1850.] MINISTRY IN NEWCASTLE. ?5 Robert Hall's day, ' mice ' — uay micelings — will nibble at the wings of archangels." Throughout this letter, of which less than the half has been quoted, mingled indignation and humour have free course. There is at least as much fun as fury in it, and there can be little doubt that it was written with a keen relish of the task. But con- troversy, grave or gay, was not his chief employ- ment. Even in stormy times, " man," for the most part," goeth forth unto his work and to his labour until the evening," and through this period of agitation Methodist preachers went the round of their circuits, preached in town and country, met classes, visited the sick, and ministered " each in the order of his course," Punshon among the rest. He soon began to feel at home in what he called " our princely Brunswick chapel," and rejoiced in some success. He had at once great influence with the young people, his genial friendly ways co-operating with his great popularity to draw them round him. One of these writes in after years : — " I first knew Mr. Punshon in Newcastle-on-Tyne, when, immediately after his marriage, he came to that circuit. He never knew what power for good he had over some who were young people then. His preaching and example led to decision for Christ, at a time when the world on one side and religion on the other were seeking theii" allegiance. Some of them hope to tell him in a better world, what they never did fully here, — - how much they owe him. For some time he held a weekly Bible class at a ladies' school. How the girls looked forward to those Monday morn- ings ! Much of the instruction there received has been foundation truth, laid strong and deep. " I well remember the first time I heard Mr. Punshon preach in Bruns- wick Chaj)el. His vivid manner of giving out the hymns arrested atten- tion, and I was wonderfully interested in the sermon (rather a novelty for me then !) as he described, from the words, ' Behold he prayeth,' a Christian's course from beginning to end. 76 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. iv. " His appearance was quite juvenile, his hair thick, waved, and curling, his figure spare and muscular, while his keen blue eye seemed to take in every one in the chapel. " Soon he preached again, on a Fast-day appointed, I believe, on account of the cholera. His text was, ' It is better to go to the house of mourn- ing than to the house of feasting,' a discourse which was considered a masterly one, and was much spoken of. His enunciation, though clear and distinct, was very rapid, and yet his words seemed to come too slowly for his thoughts. The next sermon I distinctly remember was from the text, ' There shall be no night there.' It stirred my heart to its depths. I saw a new power and beauty in heavenly things, and was led to con- template seriously the Divine and the Eternal. I resolved as I lay awake during the night not to be shut out of that heaven into which one appeared to have really looked. " I was soon privileged to make the acquaintance of Mr. and Mrs. Punshon, and I count their friendship one of the greatest treasures of my life. Their kindness to me, a school-girl, I shall never forget. Both liked to gather young people about them. They knew we were attracted to them, .and they used this power, as occasion served, to win us to their Master. An evening at their house was a great joy. After some round game such as ' Proverbs,' or ' Capping verses,' at which both Mr. and Mrs. Punshon excelled, the crowning treat would be given when he re- peated piece after piece of poetry, — grave, gay, pathetic, his store seemed to have no end. Never did we hear from him a word unbecoming his profession. His influence reached to the mental, moral, and spiritual part of one's nature, and it was all good. " He was singularly free from unkind or uncharitable remarks. He always seemed to see the best side of every one, and by his silence would condemn any approach to censoriousness. Yet who could enjoy a joke more keenly, or see the ridiculous more quickly than he ? " For the first two years of their residence in New- castle, Mr. and Mrs. Punshon hved in lodgings. During their third year they rejoiced in a house " all to themselves," — a very small one, and by no means sumptuously furnished ; hut the new joy of house- mastership was keenly realized, and he would show his friends over the modest dwelling with much pride and delight. His letters afford a few ghmpses of his happy home-life. i85o.] BIRTH OF A DA UGHTER. 77 To Rev. T. M'Cdllagh. " September 1th, 1849. •■' This comes to open our epistolary campaign after the long vacation during which so much of blessing has come to us both. I have made numberless inquiries after your whereabouts, in order that I might offer my congratulations among the hosts of friends who encompass you with good wishes and prayers. I will venture to say none are sincerer. I trust that the intimate friendship which has subsisted so long between us , and which I have learnt to consider almost as one of the necessities of my life, will be rather cemented than otherwise by our new relations." To another friend he apologises for delay in answering her letter, and gives a list of the excuses he might offer : — " The care of the Churches, the duties of the household, making speeches, providing ways and means, filling up schedules, buying bacon, taking journeys, ' beside that which cometh upon me daily,' the loving with in- creasing attachment my own dear home, and its still dearer inhabitant. . . My wife tells me that I am pretty well ; various impertinent people insinuate that I am getting stout, and even my Bishop the other day was prophesying that I should become a ' round preacher.' Be this as it may, I fancy either matrimony or the Newcastle air, perhaps a spice of both, has hitherto agreed with me passing well. My work is much more laborious, and scarcely so well repaid as in Carlisle, and but for the de- structive and painful agitation, I should like my circuit well. Our con- gregations are very good all through the circuit, and our members, though there is a great leaven of dissatisfaction, manage to cleave to us, some of them rather closer than we like ! " I don't know whether I intimated before that I was thinking of getting thin, of setting up a cry about persecution, and of trying to become a martyr on a small scale. "What think you of my plan V If I came to Carlisle, do you think I could get up a tea-meeting, with a collection afterwards for the ' Thin Minister's Martyr-Fund ? ' " The most comfortable sort of thing would be to have an annuity settled on me, that by the generosity of a kind people I might again become fat and flourishing." In December 1850 he rejoiced in the birth of a daughter, Fanny Morley. The father-heart awoke within him, and his letters brim over alternately with deep and serious feeling, and buoyant dehght 78 W. MO RLE Y PUNSHON, [chap. iv. in his new treasure. The tidings were sent at once to his friend M'Cullagh, " God blessed me with a daughter about an hour ago ! " A few weeks later : — " Fanny Morley has already composed several essays on the marvellous properties of fire-light, with two or three investigations into gas-light, a study in which she has begun to take deep interest. How thoughts, and hopes, and fears throng upon one as a father ! The Lord hide our offspring under the shadow of His wing." To a friend in Carlisle he adds : — " Of her superlative ugliness, I need but tell you what everybody says, — the everybody in this case means three old ladies, — that she's just like me. I write this, in spite of my jesting, with a full and thankful heart." Before the time came to leave Newcastle a son was born, "the heir of all the Punshons," as his father would call him when indulging in mock- heroics on the subject. These were happy years in Morley Punshon's life. The craving for sympathy and affection was now satisfied. For the first time since his childhood he had a home. The love of wife and children had brought health to his spirit, and delivered him fi'om the morbid conflicts and questionings of earlier days. His religious life was deepening, and his mental powers expanding. It was a time of growth, and of growth in kindly soil and genial weather. His popularity was well established, and though he cared more to be loved than to be admired, both were given to him in large measure. In the work of the pulpit and the platform he found a joy that amounted to rapture, while the longing amid it all to bring souls to Christ, tempered that joy with humility and seriousness. But though the circle of 1850.] MR. ARTHUR'S RECOLLECTIONS. 79 his life and labours continually widened, the centre of his happiness was his home. As yet there was no shadow upon it, no sign or beginning of sorrows. Anxieties, sickness, bereavement, — these were below the horizon, and before many years were past would darken the sky ; but for the present all was bright. It was a morning without clouds ; the cheery sun- shine rested upon the home, and filled the hearts of its inmates. The following recollections of Mr. Punshon at this period of his ministry will be read with interest. The Eev. William Arthur says : — " The first six years of his ministry were just closing before I heard him preach. Meantime his name had become widely known, and his merits were matter of frequent dispute. Some of his earliest writings I had seen, and they appeared to me to warrant the appreciation of the multitude rather than the depreciation of critics. " It was in 1851, just when the Conference was assembling at Newcastle, that I went on a Sunday morning to hear Mr. Punshon, at Wesley Chapel, Leeds. The condition of the Connexion was anxious in the extreme ; I had been for four months suffering a compulsory silence, and had but a slight prospect of ever again being fit for a circuit. Thus, both in point of health and the influence of circumstances, T was predisposed to take cloudy views rather than sunny ones, and besides this, the general impression I had gathered from report led me to expect brilliancy indeed, but not much of true thinking or religious power. Never shall I forget how thankful I was in walking away that Sunday morning. I had found a man better than his reputation. The brilliancy and the popular attraction were indeed there, but of a quality and in a degree greatly exceeding what I expected, and underneath there was an amount of real thought, a true preacher's aim, and a depth of godly feeling such as report had t)y no means prepared me for." To these impressions received by Mr. Arthur when a minister of considerable experience and stand- ing, we are able to add others made about the same time upon a younger man, himself just beginning 8o W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. iv. to preacli, measuring men and things for himself, and particularly able to embody the result of his observations in language shrewd, humorous, and piquant. The following sketch is furnished by Dr. Parker of the City Temple : — " I cannot have been more than nineteen years of age when I first saw Morley Punshon ; yet I remember distinctly that when he was pointed out to me as ' the rising orator ' of the Methodist pulpit, I failed to see the image and superscription of genius on his round, substantial, and inexpressive face. Poetry might somewhere lurk in the light curly brown hair, which clustered thickly around a somewhat stubborn-looking head, but nowhere else could I discern a trace of the fancy which works miracles in tone, and colour, and form. " 'No,' said I, ' no ; Morley Punshon may be that man's name, but when that book was bound, the apocalypse was left out.' " So much for my impressions of the burly young man who was sitting sideways towards me as he made a very hearty tea in a Methodist schoolroom, preparatory to a meeting that was to be held in the chapel overhead. My eye was still inquisitively fixed upon ' the rising orator ' of Methodism, with the view of trying to read the meaning of his projecting eyebrows, and the singular motion made by his almost invisible eyes. " Presently the chairman had said his civil nothing about the gentlemen who surrounded him, and one or two speakers had, with the full and hearty concurrence of the assembly, resumed the seats they ought never to have left. Then ' the rising orator ' came to the front of the platform and laid both hands somewhat nervously upon the substantial rail. The voice ? — yes, that will do : sharp, vibrant, dominating, quite a special voice ; would be well heard on shipboard even in a high wind ; a clanging voice, which escaped harshness by the occasional interspersion of tones liquid and musical. " At this point my opinion formed in the tea-i'oom had undergone considerable modification. At this long distance of time it seems to me that I had never heard so much about ' gems ' and ' diadems,' ' diamonds ' and ' corals,' ' glowing seraphs ' beating their wings (I forget against what), ' roseate dawns and westering suns.' I had heard nothing quite like this before. It took my boyish fancy captive, and sent me back to all my poetry books with new zest. " Fix the next point of time when I am twenty-one. Time, Sunday afternoon, three o'clock ; place, a small Northumbrian village. The little chapel is crowded. Why ? ' Punshon is coming.' That was reason i85i.] DR. PARKERS RECOLLECTIONS 8i enough. It wanted but .a minute or two to the liour announced for commencing : there he is ; hat in hand, eyes downcast, quick in step, and presently he is in the pulpit giving out the hymn beginning, ' Father of me and all mankind.' He is much paler than before. After the prayer, which did not move me, he soon gave out his text, ' The Lord will bless His people with peace.' Without a note to help him, away he went, every sentence polished, every paragraph complete, and the whole tone solemn, urgent, and resolute, but without a touch of pathos, or a trace of tears. It was like hearing good news spoken to one from the top of St. Paul's Cathedral, the news being very good, but the distance being very great. Yet I had a new feeling towards the ardent preacher, for I saw that he was more than clever, and that his real purpose was to do good. He had of course his own way of doing it, and he kept steadily to it. He had no humour, no pathos, and even in private I often observed that the smile was in his eyes rather than on his lips. At the time to which I am referring his sermons were, like his voice, inspiring, rousing, and wakening like the blast of a trumpet. They were full of doctrine and of sound teaching, as remarkable for solidity as for beauty, set in a form of words that often dazzled and startled by their beauty and music. " Here my merely boyish impressions end, but I ask the editor's per- mission to add that after the years of boyhood had passed I heard Dr. William Morley Punshon with inexpressible delight, marking how wonderfully he had grown in spiritual knowledge, and in that kind of expression which, though not lacking one element of the old beauty, was yet charged with the subtle inspiration that can be caught only in deep and prolonged communion with God. Morley Punshon is a name that I can never forget. It charmed me in my earliest years, it gratified me in my maturer days, and now as I take up his sermons and read them I can hear the orator hurling his sentences in the midst of the great congregations that gratefully respond to his pointed and noble appeals. Dr. Punshon was a poet-preacher. He saw poetry in everything, or saw everything through poetry. It is not for any one man to say, ' This is the right way,' or ' That is the wrong way ' in preaching. Every preacher has his own way of working out his own ministry. When we come to recognise this fact we shall see that poets and reasoners, historians, expositors) declaimers, and men of supreme emotion, aU constitute one grand ministry, which it pleases the Lord to recognise in its wholeness, and to bless alike in its parts and in its unity.'' On the last day of August 1852 he took leave of the Newcastle Society. A meeting was held, and he 82 VF. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. iv. was warmly thanked for his acceptable and useful labours. He said : — " I never felt more thoroughly humbled than I do this evening. I came among you with my ordination vows fresh upon me, and I regard them as solemnly binding. How very far short have I fallen of what I pur- posed then ! I feel undeserving of the kind vote of thanks that has been passed this evening. A friend, however, remarked to me that it was not unanimous ! One person did not hold up her hand. That person knows me better than any one else in the chapel, and is fully aware of my painful consciousness of feebleness in my pulpit ministrations, and my gi-eat dis- satisfaction and depression afterwards. I deeply mourn that my ministry has not been made more useful. Some over whom I had hoped to rejoice, are, I fear, yet in their sins. While preparing his sermons, how often is a minister ready to think ' they will not be able to resist these arguments, they must be conquered by these appeals ; ' but again and again he has to learn that ' old Adam is too strong for young Philip ' stUl. A note received last evening pleased me more than anything I have heard to- night. It is from a young man stating that his first religious impressions were produced under my ministry, that he has found the Saviour, and is now engaged in preaching the gospel. Some others I know of who have been led to the Saviour who are now in the far West, and others, I hope, are adorning the gospel at home. " You have promised to remember me in what I most value, your prayers. I thank you all for the uniform kindness with which I have been treated, and I can truly say that I leave Newcastle without any feeling other than that of love towards every one with whom I have come in contact." Having completed his term of three years in Newcastle, according to the inexorable rule of the Methodist itinerancy Mr. Punshon must needs remove to another sphere of labour. He was ap- pointed to the Sheffield-East Circuit, to reside at Thorncliffe, about seven miles from the town. The *' agitation " so often referred to had left its traces on Sheffield Methodism in the shape of diminished numbers, embarrassed chapel-trusts, and financial burdens. The arrival of so popular a preacher and energetic, a worker was a welcome re-inforcement. 1852.] THORNCLIFFE. 83 His first service in Norfolk Street Chapel, when he preached with great spuitual power from "Behold the Lamb of Grod," filled many a Christian soul with gratitude and hope. One thing only came between him and the perfect enjoyment of his work. His residence at Thornclifife was not altogether congenial to him. He was away from the great population to which he felt strongly drawn, and which was the natural sphere for a ministry like his. The absence of railway communication, or, indeed, of any public conveyance except a kind of coach which ran to Sheffield on market days, was a serious inconvenience to one who could not but be moving hither and thither continually. Urgent requests for special pulpit and platform service poured in upon him, and his journeyings multiplied. At the end of a year he was removed to Shefiield, an arrangement agreeable to himself and advantageous to his work. After a week's residence in his new home he writes : — " On the whole we are comfortably off. The house is somewhat antiquated and tumbledown, but well furnished, with a pleasant garden and a kind neighbour. My work is not burdensome, and the prospect appears rather encouraging. I have been agreeably disappointed in the aspect of the congregations. They are both more numerous and more lively than I anticipated. " I have made many resolutions of fuller devotedness and consecration. On Sunday evening I met the finest class, without exception, that I ever met in my life, a class of thirty-six members, all young men. Their experience was delightful, and led me to augur well for the Methodism of the future in Sheffield." To THE Rev. T. M'Cullagh. ''September Wi, 1852. " From my own ingle-nook, the parlour of a tumbledown old house, veneralilc from its antiquity, snug fi'om its cottage-likeness, pleasant from its rurality, remarkable for the combination of its stylos of architecture, 84 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. iv. inconvenient because of low roofs and unexpected steps in strange places, and yet charming because it is one's own, — I write to assure your Macship that I am still your affectionate friend and brother. " This certainly is a new style of life for me, never to see a ' 'bus ' or hear the shriek of a whistle from one week's end to another. I doubt not that by-and-bye I shall become so countryfied that, like the old gentlemen farmers, I shall show that I am a lord of the soil by carrying a pound or two of it, by way of sample, on my boots and breeches. " I am expecting, however, that it will be a sphere of usefulness ; not the less so, perhaps, because my antediluvian distance from railways will check my vagrancies, and because my predilections were in favour of any place but this. " I am pastor of three country places, Thorncliffe, Ecclesfield, and High Green, at two of which I preach everj' week, and at the third once a fortnight. This is all my week-day work ; on Sundays I change regularly with the others. So that you see, apart from my rustication, my dis- advantages are not very great. " You will see that I am on the deputation for Norwich. Do you think the collections will pay the expenses ? " I wonder who compiles the Minutes ? You will see that Henry B. Cox is said to have retired for want of health. You know he died three years ago. If you turn to p. 15"2 you will find that Timothy C. Tngle and Ralph Keeling — who both died last year — are part'tcularhi requested to attend a meeting of the Education Committee to be held in Kirkgate Chapel, Bradford, next July. Why not invite John Wesley? I should think he would be more likely to accept than either Ralph or Timothy." A few months later he renewed his correspondence with Mr. Kidgill, who was still labouring in Southern Africa : — "Thorncliffe, kear Sheffield, January Wi, 185.^. " . . .1 am now in my eighth year of itinerancy, and have laboured successively in Whitehaven, Carlisle, and Newcastle-on-Tyne. ... 1 have been led in a way that I knew not. Lovingkindness has followed me all the days of my life. I can see the good hand of God in many of the most bewildering and painful events of my history ; and just as when the sun has set the stars come out in their placid beauty and ' Darkness shows us worlds of light we never saw by day,' so, in the darkness of depression, public slander, and personal suffering, I have learnt more lessons for good, and been more braced up for earnest work, than by ought or all beside. My personal piety is not wliat it ought to be, never altogether clear of api)relionsion and of alloj', but I am striving for the I853-] LETTER TO MR. RIDGTLL. 85 mastery over self and sin, and yearning for larger measures of the life of God. 1 am sometimes tempted to think that a high state of comfort in religion is withheld from me that in the counsel of my Master I may be kept humble at His feet. I have much to guard against, both in the pressure of a partial, though undeserved, popularity, and in the danger there is of lapsing into a professional piety, and losing its vitality and power. I am thankful, however, for present desires and aims, and, more than all, for the blessing of Heaven owning my labours in the conversion of sinners. " You are aware in the general of the storm we have had to encounter as a Connexion, but you cannot be aware of the enormous wickedness and unblushing Antinomianism with which we have had to contend. Many good men have left us, prejudiced and misled as must always be the case in such unhappy divisions, but I do from my heart believe that there are among us hkelier elements of progress and prosperity than we have had for some time. My principal quarrel with the so-called Reformers is, that they have by their insanity and sin thrown back the cause of salutary and enlightened amendment in our institutions for an indefinite period. We are neither perfect nor infallible, but when these men assailed with utter recklessness all that was lovely and of good report ... it was time to sink all minor schemes and sentiments, and unite in one vigorous defence of the citadel. I was in Newcastle in the thick of it, was slandered, abused, and publicly hissed ; but I survived, stayed a third year, saw the tide turn, and had the chapels filled to overflowing once or twice before I left ... I believe that I shall have cause to be thankful all my life for that fiery ordeal. I used to be so excessively sensitive to blame, I would scarcely do what I knew to be right lest it should not be palatable to all. By the grace of God I left that feehng a legacy to the Newcastle Radicals. " The Connexion generally is, I think, improving. It is likely that we shall again have a decrease of numbers, but, God helping us, it will be the last. There are signs of reviving in many parts of the land. We have some splendid fellows amongst us. Do you know George Steward ? He is one of our first men, equal, though in a difEerent way, to Richard Watson ; Lomas, Waddy, George Osborn, Prest, Macdonald, Hurt, Vasey, Davenport, Arthur, Gervase Smith, Tyerman, Coley — each of them a tower of strength. I don't think that in the world you will find such a ministry. It is no small thing to stand in not unhonoured companionship with such a band. " I suppose you have seen my Lays of Hope. I think Charles Lister told me he had sent you a copy. I have given up poetry, or rather, the coy muse has forsaken me. Since I was married I have not written a line. . . . My dear wife — formerly Miss Vickers of Gateshead — has brought me two fine bairnies, a chatterbox of a lassie, two years old, who 86 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. IV. rejoices in the name of Fanny Morley, and a lump of a lad, rather slower in his development, but ' biding his time.' " Some of my principal friends in the ministry are M'Cullagh, now at Bishop Auckland ; William Hirst, now at Houghton-le- Spring ; M. Andrew and a few others. I am on fi-iendly terms with most of the younger great men, Waddy, Osborn, Vasey, etc. " When are you thinking of coming home ? It is almost time you revisited ' the glimpses of the moon ' in your own country. We shall be very ready to lionize you, as we do every returned missionary. " Your Kaffir war seems almost interminable. There is, I hope, a better prospect of its termination now. We have just changed our Ministry again. D'Israeli is brilliant, but a charlatan, and Lord John Russell the statesman of England. I fear our Protestant interests will suffer from the introduction of so many tractarians into the Cabinet. Gladstone & Co. are very indifferent in the struggle between England and Rome." To THE Rev. Thomas M'CuLLAr.ii. " Thornclii-fe, ^;>n? Is/, 1853. " A hearty, brotherly congratulation to j'ou on your success at Leeds : I have been greatly delighted to hear of your fame. I followed on your heels in the Huddersfield circuit, and the whole conversation of some folk I met there was M'Cullaghfied : ' These '45 men,' as Mr. Walker said, ' there's something in them.' We are going on ' prosily,' fifty-one increase on the quarter, twenty-seven short on the year. Methley, W. AVilson, and myself invited. A good work all over the circuit, save my poor Thorncliffe, where all languishes. " You will have seen the April magazine, and will notify my London work. ' I exceedingly fear and quake,' but the Lord will give me strength in my day. I don't expect I shall have to speak in Exeter Hall. If I have it will be a terrible affair." He here refers to the invitation he had received from the Missionary Committee in London to take part in the services of the approaching anniversary. Such an invitation to a minister of Httle more than seven years' standing was more uncommon thirty years ago than it would he to-day. It was an un- usually early recognition of power and promise in a young man. Mr. Punshon might well be fluttered with hope and fear as he thought of the possibility of I853-] INVITED 70 LONDON. 87 having to address the great audience in Exeter Hall, an audience that would include the most dis- tinguished ministers and laymen in tlie Connexion, and, in particular, those great leaders of the Con- ference who were, not unnaturally, regarded as the most formidable of hearers and critics. He could hardly be unaware that a style like his — ornate, poetic, high-pitched — might not be altogether to the liking of some of those potent seniors, who were understood, rightly or not, to have little sympathy with youthful oratory. But there was no escape. The rising reputation that had. made it necessary to invite the young minister from the country to preach and speak in London, required that the ordeal should be faced. The development of his life-work had reached a stage when it must enter upon a wider sphere, or fall back a failure and a disappointment. He did his best to prepare for the duty before him, and went up to London trusting in God. The ser- vices of the anniversary commenced with a sermon at Southwark Chapel, by the Eev. G. T. Perks. On the next evening, Wednesday, Mr. Eattenbury preached to a crowded congregation at City Eoad. The following morning Dr. Hannah was the preacher, and on Friday morning the Rev. -Norman Macleod. Mr. Punshon's work began on the Sunday, when he preached at Spitalfields in the morning, and Hinde Street in the evening. On Monday the great meet- ing was held in Exeter Hall. Mr. James Heald was in the chair. The report was read by Mr. Osborn, the financial statement by Mr. Hoole. The meeting was addressed in succession by Dr, Hannah ; the Rev, 88 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. iv. E. J. Eobinson, then recently returned from Ceylon ; the Kev. Gibson M'Millen, from Ireland ; the Eight Hon. Joseph Napier, Member for the University of Dublin, and the Kev. -John Rattenbury. Dr. New- ton, now an old man, within a year of the close of his blameless life and noble ministry, and still the most popular man in the Methodist ministry, was expected to speak before the meeting closed ; and with this long array of speakers behind him, and the veteran advocate of Missions to follow, Mr. Punshon was called upon to address the meeting. He spoke for some twenty minutes, and made happy and effec- tive allusion to the venerable men upon the platform. " I would humbly say to-day, if it may in any way cheer the declining years of those whose every affection is bound up with this great cause, that there is a goodly fellowship of us who have sworn never to desert it. I have been thinking of what I could say that might worthily occupy the few moments allotted to me. I could not discover what it was that prompted my invitation here except this, that it might be a mutual and glorious benefit, — the young instructed by the experience and counsel of the aged, and haply the aged cheei-ed by the buoyancy and enthusiasm of the young. As Whitefield said to Wesley, when there was a rumour of Wesley's speedy departure, ' Noa stquamur non imss'ihus o:(iuui,' ' We will follow; but not with equal steps.' Equal steps seem impossible ; but still we will follow. Depend upon it, we will follow ! It is to me a matter of unfeigned rejoicing that our Sparta hath many worthier sons than 1 who are ready to unite in the advocacy of this cause, and who arc prepared to do and to die in it, till it finally triumph.'' The words of the young and eloquent speaker pro- duced a great impression. It was felt that another man had arisen to stand among the foremost defenders and advocates of Christian Missions. And from that hour it was so. He had taken possession of Exeter Hall, to retain it to his life's end. Of all who have trodden its historic platform none have moved the I853-] EXETER HALL. 89 eager thousands that pack within its walls with com- pleter mastery than he. The promise of this was discerned by some at least of those who heard his first speech. But in looking back upon that meeting an interest attaches to it which time only could bring to light. It was Eobert Newton's last appear- ance at the anniversary of the Wesleyan Missionary Society, and Morley Punshon's first. For the first and last time they stood together in the cause with which their names must always be linked. The elder handed the torch to the younger and passed away. That May morning in 1853 divides the earlier from the later period of Missionary advocacy. The name of Eobert Newton may stand for the one, the name of Morley Punshon for the other. On leaving London, Mr. Punshon hastened to Norwich to fulfil the duties of a Missionary Depu- tation. From thence he writes to Mr. M'Cullagh : — " Noinvicii, MuyWi, 1853. " It was a glorious meeting in the Hall. ... I hoped I .should escape until Rattenbury was speaking. I did not get niy resolution until then ; when Hoole stole along the platform and said, ' We want you to second this resolution, — twenty minutes at most, and as much less as you like.' This was at twenty-live minutes to four, and there wtis Wade of Selby, and Dr. Newton, and the collection to follow. ... I have forgotten to tell you the most gratifying thing to me ; not the congregations, though Spitalfields was full, and Hinde Street crowded ; nor the collections, though the morning was £13 and the evening £11 more than last year ; nor the reception at the meeting, though it was warm ; but that after the meeting the old doctor — the great lion — the veritable Jabez Bunting hobbled across the committee room for the express purpose of shaking hands with me, and telling me that it gave him pleasure to see and hear me there. " Fancy the change from Exeter Hall to Peasenhall down in the wilds of Suffolk, beyond the limits of the twopenny post, when I began the missionary sermon with /biu- people, and the collection at the meeting was five and twentij shilUmjs .' " 90 TV. MO RLE Y PUNSHON. [CHAP. IV. After a year's residence at Tliorncliffe Mr. Pun shon removed to Sheffield. This arrangement was, in every respect, a happy one for him. It removed certain difficulties which he had experienced in his work, and it placed him in the midst of congenial society. His genial nature found its hest relaxation from the strain of ever-increasing labours in the hospitable homes of his people. There was no fairer aspect of Methodism in Sheffield than the home-life of its leading families, cheerful, intelligent, and unaffectedly Christian. Among these he formed some of his strongest and most abiding friendships. The ties that bound him to Sheffield stood the test of time and distance. Long years afterwards he said, " I prefer Sheffield-East to almost any circuit I know." The Conference of 1853 met in Bradford, under the presidency of the Eev. John Lomas. Mr. Punshon and Mr. M'Cullagh spent a short time there together. One incident connected with it is recorded in a letter to a friend : — " We have just had a beautiful and impressive scene. After the read- ing of an obituary by F. A. West, as by one consent all was hushed for Dr. Bunting's remarks. He could not speak, and sat, the majestic old man, with head down and frame quivering with suppressed emotion for three or four minutes. At last he rose, and calm, resigned, Christian, poured out his feelings. The feeling, the pagsion of the Conference, was intense." To THE Rf.v. T. M'Cullagii. "Sheffield, October Glh, 1853. "I cannot come to Rhildon. I am up to the chin. Listen : — 11th, Grimsby ; r2th, l.'Jth, and 14th, among the swamps of Norfolk ('relieving and extending') ; 17th, Boston ; 18th, Howden ; 2;5rd and 24th, Radnor Street, Manchester ; 31st, Lincoln ; 2nd, Silsden ; Hth, York ; 21st and 22nd, Huddersfield ; '27th, Hinde Street, London, besides all circuit work 1853-] LECTURES AT EXETER HALL. 91 considerably increased by my removal to Sheffield ; and in the midst of all 1 have to finish a sermon, write a memoir of my uncle for the maga- zine, and last, not least, woe of woes ! to prepare a lecture for the Young Men's Christi.in Association, Exeter Hall. I shrink, falter, tremble, repent. " Our new men take well. Methley puts his hand on his breast, — that enormous hand ! — and throws out some very sparkling and clever and sensible things. Wilson is a pastor among a thousand ; Sugden an active Revivalist. The Lord is with us, that's the best of all. Souls are gathered in, and our main difficulty is with sickened, but not penitent. Radicals, who are coming ' in their twos and threes,' as the people say, and we hardly know how to deal with them. We had a sweep the other day — illustrating the adage, ' Two of a trade can never agree '—who, tired of the rival soot-bag at the Reform Chapel, came to us to be whitewashed." The invitation to lecture at Exeter Hall proved to be one of the most important events in his life. It was the summons to a new sphere of labour, and his response to it influenced his whole after career. The vocation of the popular lecturer was not a new one, but it was to receive fresh interpretation at his hands. He broke away from its traditions. He had conceived of new possibilities in connection with it. Established canons of style and delivery, and exist- ing standards and precedents, were disregarded. It was a new departure. It is the simple truth to say there had been no such lectures before. This is not to disparage the work of his predecessors and con- temporaries. Here was something different in kind from what had hitherto gone by the name of lecture. " In his hand the thing became a trumpet, whence he blew Soul-animating strains." Reserving for the present the history of his labours and triumphs as a lecturer, together with the examination of his method and style, it is sufficient here to say that on the 17th of January, 1854, he 92 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. iv. delivered his lecture on " The Prophet of Horeb," in Exeter Hall, to nearly three thousand people. He spoke for two hours with perfect command of him- self, his subject, and his audience. Towards the close, says one who was present, there was the stillness and solemnity of death — "You might have heard a feather fall in that vast assembly ; " and when the last sentence had fallen from his lips, the whole audience rose en masse, and cheered till it could cheer no more. A correspondent of The British Banner, com- menting upon a statement in that paper that " the lecture was of such a character as not to admit of being reported, so as to retain its peculiar ex- cellences," comes to the defence of the reporter in the following strain : — " It was unreasonable and cruel to expect such a thing. The ablest reporter, in your or any other corps, who could keep his eye and his hand down upon his paper, while that lightning was flashing, and that thunder was pealing above and around him, must have been the veriest slave to his craft that ever, for love or lucre, covenanted to fill so many columns of letterpress." The lecture was re-delivered a few weeks later in Norfolk Street Chapel, when the building was crowded in every part, and the utmost enthusiasm manifested. To lli;V. Rl( IIAKD RllKilLL. " SiiKFFiELD, November 1th, 1854. " My course in Sheffield has been a very happy one. The circuit was low, and it has been raised by the blessing of God upon our labours. We have added about three Imudred members in the course of the last year. For twelve months wc have scarcely had a Sabbath eveniug without wit- nessing conversions. Three of us hold prayer-meetings after every service, save, of course, on sacramental occasions, and the good resulting from this old-fashioned plan is inestimable. I have agreeable colleagues. Mr. I854-] LETTER TO MR. RIDGILL. 93 Methlcy is a man of considerable genius, though his taste is not always correct; Mr. Wilson is a brilliant example of cheerful and consistent piety ; Sugden, out at Thorncliffe, is a valuable man of the revivalist school ; so that I don't think there is in the entire Connexion an appoint- ment equal to ours for variety and adaptation. I am in my third year, and according to our inflexible itinerancy, must budge, greatly to my sorrow, at Conference. It is possible that I may remove to Leeds, if it should please God to continue me health to work. " I am amazed, and ready to cry ' Oh, the depth ! ' when I look back upon the last few years. That I should have achieved such a position in the noblest ministry in the world, is to me a source of deepest humbling, as well as of most fervent thankfulness. Last year the highest honour of my life came to me in the shape of an invitation to lecture to the Young Men's Christian Association in Exeter Hall, along with Sir James Stephen, Dr. Gumming, Close of Cheltenham, McNeile of Liverpool, Candlish of Edinburgh, and others. " Perhaps some of the Doncastrians have sent you the Prophet of Hovel). " We have some splendid names in the Methodist Ministry now, men of promise and of power. I am not speaking of the men whose reputations are established, but of the alumni ; such as Arthur (though he is almost out of the catalogue, for his reputation is becoming world-wide), and W. B. Pope, and Perks, and J. H. James, and Wiseman, and Rigg, and Richard Roberts, and Gregory, Coley, Tyerman, Gervase Smith, Vasey, Hartley, Cranswick, E. J. Robinson, and M'Cullagh, last, not least. It is worth living to be associated with such men in the great work of saving souls. I am more and more persuaded of the high destiny of our beloved Methodism. If she be but faithful to her original mission to ' spread scriptural holiness through the land,' she may be one of the first to catch the significant fore-tokens of the Saviour's approach." Two characteristics of the writer which only strengthened as time went on are observable in this letter, — his loyalty to Methodism, and his admiring love for his brethren in the ministry. Not that he was blind to the defects and limitations of Methodism, but they were as nothing to him com- pared with the glory that pertained to it as an evangelical Church, sound in doctrine, practically efficient in discipline, and rich in spiritual life. 94 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. iv. Happily free from the right-hand and left-hand errors of sacerdotalism and rationalism, true in the main to its great calling as the servant and witness of Christ, — ^he regarded it as chosen and honoured among the Churches of Christendom, alike in the work assigned to it by the head of the Church, and in the blessing that crowned its testimony. He knew its history, and was imbued with its best traditions. He understood its genius, and was in sympathy with its spirit and general tendencies. It gave him adequate sphere for a life-service in the cause of Christ, and thus satisfied him mentally and spiritually. Notwithstanding the poetic vein in his nature, Mr. Punshon's mind was essentially practical. Speculative difficulties and sentimental objections went for very little with him as against experience and practical proof. Hence his devotion to Methodism was untroubled, and he could speak and act in her behalf in a whole-hearted way. His love for his brethren has rarely been equalled. As he rose in public esteem, and was eagerly sought after from many sides, his regard even for the obscurest men in the ministry seemed to become only the more tender and considerate. He re- membered names and faces, he knew where nearly every man was stationed, he had something like personal acquaintance with each. He delighted in the gifts, the accomphshments, the successes of other men. He welcomed every sign of promise among the younger ministers, and was ready, with swift appreciation, to recognise and encourage then- progress in anything that was good. His capacity i88s.] LAST YEAR AT SHEFFIELD. 95 of love and admiration was that of a generous nature. If it was possible to think well of a man, he did so. In any case, he spoke evil of none. The last year of his ministry in Sheffield was one of ceaseless activity. His list of engagements bears witness to the varied claims that were now made upon his time and strength. In addition to his ordinary ministerial duties he greatly assisted Mr. Methley, his Superintendent, in large financial and administrative schemes to relieve the em- barrassed chapel-trusts. These efforts culminated in a bazaar, by which the sum of i;l,270 was raised, — an amount, in those days, unprecedented and all but unhoped-for. Anniversary Services, Missionary Meetings, Lectures follow in quick succession. His journeyings, though not yet on the scale of later years, were swift and frequent. One week he is preaching in Sheffield on Sunday and Monday, at Keighley on Tuesday, at Penrith on Wednesday, at Carlisle on Thursday. Another week sees him in Sheffield, Gloucester, Cardiff, Chepstow, Stroud, and Bristol. During the year he visited some fifty different towns in England and Wales, and preached for the first time in Ireland. With the exception of an attack of bronchitis which laid him aside for a fortnight in the winter, his health continued good, save for a certain nerve-strain of which he began to be conscious. In February 1855 he spoke at the Annual Meeting of the Young Men's Christian Association in Exeter Hall. The Hall was crammed. He writes to Mr. M'Cullagh: — 96 IV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [CHAP. IV. " I was introduced to tlie Hon. Arthur Kinnaird, Binney, George Smith, and others. Lord Shaftesbury was pleased to characterise my address as one of ' prodigious power,' but intimated that there was just a danger lest, in seeking for the elegant phrase, I should overlay the sturdy thought." At the Conference of 1855 his ministry in Sheffield terminated. It had been an eminently happy and successful one. There was an increase of more than two hundred members in the Society. Debts had been paid off, and difficulties of various kinds surmounted. It had been proved to himself and to others that it was possible to combine an effective ministry in his own circuit with a kind of second ministry through the Connexion at large. The applause that greeted him as a lecturer took nothing from the eagerness with which the people flocked to hear him preach the gospel. He met classes and held prayer-meetings with earnestness and unction, and no joy with which his prosperous course was crowned equalled the joy that was given to him in the conversion of souls. Before going to Conference he found time for a short but " glorious " Highland trip, accompanied by his wife. He writes : — " I never was more impressed with personal littleness than in the midst of God's grandeur. ... I have just refused to lecture for the Young Men's Christian Association in their next course. I cannot stand the havoc it plays with my nei'vcs." And then follows a tribute to the itinerant system, which every Methodist minister will understand : — " I have begun to feel very unsettled, and shall be, I suppose, till I change circuits." CHAPTER V. 1855-1858. LEEDS. Aged 31 to 34. Leeds, Oxford-Place Circuit. — Lecture : Science, and Literature in Relation to Religion. — Missionary Anniversary. — Begins a Journal. — Anxieties and Labours. — Lecture : John Bunyan. — His Method, Style, Delivery. — Views on Proposed Revision of the English Bible. Feom Sheffield Mr. Punshon removed to the Oxford- Place Circuit, Leeds, another of the centres and strongholds of Yorkshire Methodism. If a certain restlessness had preceded his removal, it was fol- lowed hy at least a brief spell of depression. The greetings with which "the new minister" is welcomed often fall upon a heart that is sore with the separation from old friends and old scenes. His first letter written from Leeds to Mr. M'Cullagh reveals something of this. The latter had just re- moved to Spitalfields : — " HoLBECK, Leeds, September 5th, 1855. " May a provincial brother aspire to address a metropolitan in familiar phrase and style ? How did you feel in St. George's on Sunday morning ? I hope comfortable. I started at Oxford Place and Hanover in very middling style. I am greatly discouraged, and sustained only by the abiding conviction of duty. This Holbeck location does not suit me. I seem quite out of the world. The walk to Leeds is dismally drearj^ and long. The house is a good, commodious, venerable affair." 7 98 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. v. To THE Rev. T. M'Cullagh. "Leeds, January V2th, 1856. " All hail ! and a happy new year to you and yours. May you be crowned with every new covenant blessing. . . . The first draft is pretty well completed for next year. It is rather odd that such men as Macdonald, Illingworth, Rigg, Newstead, and others are not engaged. I have done nothing towards the biography, and see no prospect for some time. I shall have to give up this itinerancy-run-mad if I am to turn author. I go to Newcastle on Monday, Carlisle Tuesday, Penrith Wednesday, Hexham Thursday, and on the 21st to Belfast. " Loraine has gone to Blackburn, to supply for Nattrass, who is ill. If you want a student at any time, ask for Cockill, and tell me how he gets on. He promises well." Ou 21st January Mr. Punslion crossed from Fleetwood to Belfast, and the following evening lie lectured in the Victoria Hall. The lecture was entitled Science and Literature in Relation to Eeligion. This is by far the most ambitious title borne by any of his lectures. Not unnaturally, it was his earliest. In its conception it belongs to his boyish days, and in the actual form it assumed it was the work of his first years in the ministry. His idea was to show that there is no real antagonism between science and religion, and that the connection between religion and literature is one to which the latter is deeply indebted. Under the former head it cannot be said that he had anything new to bring forward. He had no such acquaintance with science as to qualify him for independent handling of his sub- ject, or for a searching criticism of scientific unbelief. To this he made no pretence. But there were common misconceptions that he could remove ; and if his replies to infidel objections were not very original, they were, to say the least, good enough for the objections dealt with, and for the objectors 1856.] "SCIENCE, LITERATURE, AND RELIGION." 99 who catcli them up so lightly, and pass them on with so much confidence. The Deluge, the six days of Creation, the Mosaic chronology, the sun standing still upon Gribeon, were some of the matters on which he gave a popular answer to popular objections. Question and answer alike are now out of date. The attack and the defence of thirty years ago are antiquated, as, if we may judge from the past, those of our own time will be a generation hence. The rapid super- annuation that prevails within the sphere of this controversy is very striking, and is itself an evidence of the truth of revealed religion that should not be overlooked. The important fact at each stage of the long conflict is not that the defence was inade- quate, but that the attack was unsuccessful. If the perfect Apologia has not yet been produced, neither has the successful assault on Christianity yet been made ; and, meanwhile, it holds on its way, greater than those who defend, and stronger than those who assail it. The latter part of Mr. Punshon's lecture is that in which he moves most freely. To one who loved poetry as he did it was a genial task to dilate upon the poetry of the Bible, and to show how light from the oracles of God had been caught and reflected in the noblest verse of many ages. Here his great gifts of delivery availed him, and the hearer who might not be altogether persuaded by his reasonings was alternately awed, moved, and melted by the perfect recitation of passages from Shakespeare and Milton, from Byron, Scott, and Keats. With regard to the more argumentative portions 100 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. V of the lecture, it should be remembered that they were not set forth in prosaic bareness, nor was the hearer allowed to listen to them in cold blood. They were cast in rhetorical form, the burnished sentences being built up one upon another in a series of ascents that drew the hearer along with them to the inevitable climax. It was the first time Mr. Punshon had lectured in Belfast, but he was already known as a preacher, and his reputation as a lecturer had gone before him. The Victoria Hall was crowded in every part. The newspapers next day gave a long list of ministers and notable persons who were present, beginning with Dr. Cooke, Dr. Morgan, and Dr. M'Cosh, and concluding with a Mr. Gregory M. Wortabet of Beyrout, and Elijah Seelaby of Samaria ! He began with a modest apology for addressing such an audience on such a theme. He came as a young man to address young men : — " An opinion is abroad in the eartli, which lias been received in some quarters as conclusive, that science and religion are opposing principles, antagonist powers ; that, as if they could not breathe the same atmo- sphere, the one instinctively flies at the approach of the other ; and that it is impossible for a man who is deeply learned in this world's wisdom to be equally conversant with the wisdom which is of God. From this view of the subject, infidels, ever on the watch to tarnish the fair fame of Christianity, have been eager to deduce that the Gospel is a system of superstition and ignorance, unworthy the attention of an intelligent being. AVe believe, and will endeavour to show, that between the subjects in question there exists no natural or necessary opposition. By religion we mean Christianity, and by Christianity the system of revealed truth contained in the Holy Scriptures ; and we think that to this glorious revelation of the mind and will of (lod the whole circle of the sciences affords no ground of rational objection ; nay, that science is never so exalted as when submissive to religion, and that literature as her hand- mie condition, that it does not interfere with your preaching twice every Sunday at least, nor with due preparation for the pulpit. This is your glorious mission — to preach Christ, to save souls ; the noblest, hoUest work on earth, to which every- thing should be subordinated, compared with which everything is little. Nothing should interfere with this. " Next, but still inferior, to this, is the platform advocacy which pleads for Christian missions on the highest grounds ; not the claptrap speeches which only aim at present effect in a collection, but those which raise the people to the height of the great argument — Christian obligation, because Christ commands — Christian privilege, because Christ invites — Christian honour, because Christ gives success to human agency. The heart and head touched, stewardship will be recognised and gold will follow. " But you must not only plead that others be sent to preach, but preach that others may be saved. You dare not evade your call to the ministry. I am sure you have no disposition to do so. " My notion of the sphere for you is, London, large chapels, crowds of young men, earnest proclamation of the gospel, a good colleague skilled in administration who shall form Bible-classes, enrol members, ascertain their character and talents, and from among them furnish the Church with stewards, class-leaders, Sunday-school teachers, and all other labourers required." The Hinde Street Circuit of 1858 embraced the vast district which may be roughly described as beginning at Regent Circus, Oxford Street, and stretching to the west and north so as to include Marylebone, Tyburnia and Kensington, Netting Hill, Bayswater and Westbourne Park, Kilburn, St. John's Wood, and Hampstead. Upon these great and populous regions of London Methodism had little more than a nominal hold. Five chapels, two of them small ones, and little more than nine hundred members, with four ministers to occupy the pulpits 9 130 U^. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. vi. and take pastoral oversight of the congregations, con- stituted its whole strength in the midst of a population numbered by hundreds of thousands. The era of chapel-building and Church-extension had not yet begun.* Hinde Street Chapel itself, ugly and incom- modious to the last degree, possessed good Methodist traditions, which were worthily sustained by the Society of that day. The Societies at St. John's Wood and MUton Street were smaller in number, and per- haps less vigorous and eJSicient. But the Chcuit, as a whole, was a strong one, if only its utter dispropor- tion to the surrounding population were left out of sight — strong in the character of its principal men and women, and in the hearty religious life of its members generally. The staff of ministers appointed at the Conference of 1858 was G. B. Macdonald, Thomas Llewellyn, W. M. Punshon, and Frederic Greeves. It may be doubted whether there was another circuit in the Connexion so strongly manned. With the view of raising a congregation and con- solidating the work at Bayswater, it was arranged, with the consent of the Circuit Quarterly Meeting and the hearty concurrence of his colleagues, that Mr. Punshon should preach once every Sunday in the Denbigh Koad Chapel, instead of taking turns equally with his three colleagues according to custom. This arrangement, to which the parties concerned were agreed, gave rise in some quarters to unfavourable comment, and subsequently to an important discus- sion in the Conference. But it was justified from the * On the ground which in 1858 constituted the Hindo Street Circuit there are in 1887 seven circuits, fourteen ministers, and thitjc thousand members. 1858.] WORK A 7 BAVSWATER. first by its success. The small congregation and Society of some sixty persons, which had hitherto worshipped in a hired upper room, had taken posses- sion of a new chapel that would seat one thousand two hundred people. The neighbourhood was densely populated, but it was one where Methodism had no prescriptive right or influence, and where it was not enough to build a chapel and announce it as open for public worship. A congregation must be made, and that not from materials prepared to hand, but from the multitudes around who had no pre- possessions in favour of Methodism and its ministries, and many prejudices against them. The means for "compelling them to come in" were found in Mr. Punshon's exceptional popularity. The success of the venture that was made will best be told in the words of the Eev. WiUiam Arthur, himself a chief promoter, almost the originator, of the great exten- sion of Methodism in Bayswater. " During his first residence in London I had ampler opportunities of judging of him as a preacher and pastor than are usually possessed by one minister in respect of another. He preached once every Sunday in Denbigh Road, and for the greater part of the time I was an habitual hearer, being myself unable to speak in public. It was said, ' You are building a cage, but where will you get the bird to sing in it ? ' But Providence sent the bird, and no sooner was that voice heard than the people flocked as doves to their windows. Each successive week seemed but to add to the eager- ness of the crowds he attracted. They packed the seats, they filled every stair and nook and cranny ; they stood compressed in every aisle. They comprised men of every rank and of every denomination. Attention was always unflagging, and at times it seemed as if the spirit of the orator had wound itself round the whole multitude as around a single man, and was hurrying it along in his own path. If many went away only to admire, not a few went away to repent and seek after God. Old pilgrims went away with upbfted heads, feeling enabled and impelled to ' urge their way with strength renewed.' The members of the Church steadily increased in number. It seemed as if those who were awakened under 132 TV. MO R LEY PUNS HON. [chap. vi. his ministry were of a class to whom earnest preaching of the gospel was new, rather than of such as had been accustomed to a heart-searching ministry. " The theological truths he presented were generally the fundamental ones, and were treated with great simplicity. His expositions of Scripture were neither elaborate nor recondite, but such as would be patent to any ordinary student. They were never far-fetched or fanciful ; for with him the province for fancy to play in was by no means that of in- terpreting the Word of God. Reverently receiving that Word according to the most natural and best accredited expositions of it, he proceeded in his own manner to amplify and enforce its sacred lessons. He exulted in proclaiming the greatness of God's love to man, the boundless mercies of his gospel, and the redeeming sacrifice of Christ. ' What I most value in Punshon's preaching,' said to me a well-known Churchman who often heard him, ' is his setting-forth of the doctrine of the atonement ; ' and about the same time as this observation wii.s made by a man of scholastic culture, a pea.sant from the north, .after describing to me his congregation, added, ' Eh, but he was powerful on the blood.' " His amplification, at some times laboured, was generally rich in a very high degree. Not unfrequently it was gorgeous, sometimes tremendous, and occa.sionally pathetic to a point at which an undefined and sudden thrill passed through the audience as through a single frame. Some of his hearers at Denbigh Road do not forget to this day the moment when, after having enlarged on the compassion of our glorified High Priest for His tempted and downcast followers, he suddenly subdued his tone, and with a note of strange sympathy and tenderness repeated the words, ' touched with the feehng of our infirmities." So vividly does the memory of that moment even now continue, that when in any cares or pains they look up for help to our ascended Lord, that word ' tonrhed ' as then uttered seems to breathe over their spirits like a balm. "In the case of Dr. Punshon, more than in that of any other minister I ever knew, one subse(|uently found more spiritual fruit of his sermons than at the time of their delivery the apparent impression on the congre- gation would have led one to expect. That impression seemed often to partake more largely of literary charm or of oratorical ascendency than of soul-converting power. But the proof came after many days. Mr. Hull, one of the oldest and ablest ministers in the Irish Conference, said to me many months ago, ' In every Circuit of mine which he has visited, preach- ing occasional sermons, I have afterwards found his spiritual children, and that is more than I can siiy of any other of those very popular men who are celebrated for occasional sermons.' To this testimony I shall only add that in my own course I have very often met with his children in the gospel both on this side of the A tlantic and the other. Indeed, of sons in the gospel it has often seemed to me as if the Lord had granted to Dr. 1858.] WORK AT BA YSWATER. Tunshoii a larger portion thau even to many whose repute as winners of souls was not implicated with any fame for intellectual briUiancy. Those sons of his in the ministry are in Circuits at home, and in stations in Canada, the United States, and the Mission-field. " In connection with his frequent absence from his own Circuit, which his occasional services in all parts of the country involved, one feature always struck me as peculiar. With many men, Avhen such absences are frequent they render them almost useless for the afEairs of the Circuit during the little time they may happen to spend in it. Some- how it was not so with him ; he never lost the thread of home afEairs, or seemed to overlook small details. He moved with so much speed and decision, that a day or two of his presence would count for more than many days of an ordinary man. His oratorical command was not more wonderful in great assemblies than was his patient jjower of detail in business meetings of the Church. Few indeed of those whose only gift is for business could transact it with so great accuracy, so great dispatch, or so much to the pleasure of others. Seen at one of his marvellous lectures, in a vast hall, surrounded by a waving throng, he would be taken for a giant woodman who lifted up the axe only on the tallest trees ; but no cabinet-maker was more minute or dexterous, none fitted point to point with minuter or surer touch, than did he in arranging the sacred matters of business which are sometimes called secular. In such transactions he had a great art of saving time and sparing trials of temper ; and of his rare gifts this was neither the least rare nor the least valuable. " The rapidity just alluded to was not confined to the transaction of busi- ness. It seemed in him to take a ijeculiar form, and in combination with minuteness to constitute a very distinctive mark of his genius. It under- lay all his mental operations, and determined the lleet current of his argument, and the speedily shifting character of his illustrations. It had very much to do with the estimate that many formed of his sermons, and also with the familiar complaint that they could not be remembered. Rapid in grasping conceptions, rapid in seeing analogies, rapid in linking relative to co-relative, rapid in affiliating feeling on thought, rapid in com- pressing many ideas into few words, rapid in reckoning, rapid in penning, and strangely rapid in utterance, his massive mind, laden with heavy weights, seemed hung on strangely agile springs. But in all this, and par- ticularly in utterance, it was not with him as with many, ' the more haste the worse speed.' It was, on the contrary, tremendous speed and no tripping. Every syllable was clean cut, every word distinct as the stroke of a bell ; and though the next stroke followed it instantly, and upon that came another and another and another, no two notes blurred on one another. This combined rapidity and minuteness appeared in almost all he did." 134 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. v. But Mr. Punslion's labours were not confined to the Bayswater portion of the Circuit ; Hinde Street, St. John's Wood, Milton Street were visited in regular succession. At Hinde Street he was par- ticularly happy, and nowhere was his ministry more successful in the best sense of the word. A corre- spondent, signing himself " Kcec meminisse juvat" furnishes some "recollections" which may supple- ment those of Mr. Arthur respecting Denbigh Road : — " How well I remember the year 1858-9, surely the annua mirahilis of old Hinde Street, when Mr. Macdonald, Mr. Llewellyn, Mr. Punshon, and Mr. Frederic Greeves were the Circuit-ministers. What a Quaternion ! We said so to ourselves at the time, and I say it now with deepened feeling as I look back upon that fourfold ministry, which, in its variety and in its oneness, nourished and stimulated my eager youth. I was little more than a boy theu, but I belonged to Hinde Street with all my heart, and Hinde Street belonged to me — ' qvoniin j)ar!i parva fui.' Then, as now. I thought the old chapel ugly to a degree that was positively fascinating, but my love for it was never for a moment disturbed thereby. Mine was a spiritual, a dematerialized affection that pierced through the outward show of things to their inner beauty and lovableness. No device of architect and builder, working together in guilty confederacy, could have more successfully mortified the tastes of the Avorshippers ; yet, at a fastidious age, with the critical faculty well awake, I walked about this Zion and told the towers thereof with serene and unassailable satisfaction. For me this grim piece of unimaginative brickwork enshrined sanctities and spiritual delights numberless and inexpressible. ' It nothing common had nor mean ' in the round of its ordinances, the very absence of all outward picturesqueness only serving to set off other and deeper attractiveness. Perilous, perhaps, was the non-provision for the longings of the eye, the car, and the not unlawful susceptibilities of the young, but happily atoned for by the wealth of influences, religious and intellectual, that centered there. On Sunday mornings I would climb the steep staircase, with its friendly rope in place of hand-rail, on my way to the sky-lighted vestry where the class met ; and in the afternoons I dived down the cellar-steps which were the only approach to the schoolroom. During the morning service I kept watch over restless scholars in that wonderful upper gallery to which we of the Sunday School were relegated,— honourable banish- ment to giddy heights — where the voice of the preacher and the responses 1858.] MEMORIES OF HINDE STREET. 135 of the people came up in gusts and snatches of which they who worshipped on lower levels knew nothing. But it was the evening service, teacher's duties and all pious police functions discharged for the day, — it was the evening service that brought the crown of all joys and blessings, when the ploughshare cut its deepest and the good seed fell into the good ground, when the showers descended and the rain also filled the pools.'' " There were many of us young people to whom it was a joyous spring- time. The dew of our youth was upon us. The ' years that bring the inevitable yoke ' were yet to come. The first delight of Christian life had not spent itself. In the work, the worship, the fellowship of the Church there was a freshness, a charm not to be described. And that dull, un- lovely chapel was hearth and altar at once, the place where light and heat converged, and whence again they flowed out on many sides. " For our ministers we had great love and unbounded admiration. There was little disposition among us to set one off against another ; and, indeed, there was no such inequality in respect of their pulpit powers as to encourage invidious comparisons. No four men who were entirely one in their aims and convictions could differ more widely in style, and in their modes of presenting truth ; but the ministry of each seemed to sustain and complete that of the others, and anything like ' I am of Paul, and I of ApoUos ' on the part of their hearers would have been no less foolish than unworthy. I do not presume to give a formal criticism, I am only recalhng my youthful memories, when I say that whether it were Mr. Macdonald in the pulpit or Mr. Llewellyn, Mr. Punshon or Mr. Greeves, we looked up and were fed, we came hungry and went away satisfied. Mr. Macdonald was then some fifty-three or four years of age, with the manners and appearance' of genial authority, manly alike in thought and mode of utterance. He had lost, I suppose, some of the fire and brightness of his earlier style, but to us he appeared the very mod.el of middle-aged ripeness, strong, well-balanced, full of broad sympathies and clear common sense. His noble voice and somewhat stately elocution impressed us greatly, and if his didactic strain was occasionally heavy, it was rescued and relieved by the felicity of his illustrations, and the skill with which he introduced a not too frequent anecdote. Mr. Llewellyn was perhaps more unequal than his colleagues, the difference between his ' good times ' and his bad ones being more marked. He was always earnest and affectionate, and when his spirit was fairly aglow his im- passioned appeals, full of solemnity and tenderness, seemed as though they must carry everything before them. Some of us thought that he especially excelled in addressing the young. If the junior minister of the four, who was still in his probation, had appeared to disadvantage among such colleagues it would have been but natural, and in no way a proof of inferiority. But in the case of Mr. Frederic G-reeves this was not so. It was almost impossible to believe that he was a young preacher 136 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. VI. In knowledge, experience, style, delivery, he was far beyond his years. He might have been preaching all his life. Young he was in zest and buoyancy of spirit, and perhaps in certain literary tendencies and sus- ceptibihties, but mature in all else. His sermons combined fulness of matter, clearness of arrangement, and a finished style. He also excelled as a reader and a speaker. Our standard of elocution at Hinde Street in those days was a high one. If under Mr. Macdonald, Mr. Punshon, and Mr. Greeves we became somewhat exacting in this matter, who shall blame us ? " So far as popularity was concerned, Mr. Punshon greatly distanced all the rest. When it was his turn to preach at Hinde Street, we had to be there betimes to gain admission. On a Sunday evening the crowd would begin to gather upon the chapel steps an hour before the time for service. By the time the doors were opened there was a compact mass of people in waiting, and sometimes a painful crush before they streamed freely into the aisles or trooped up the gallery stairs. Soon every pew was filled, and every coign of vantage occupied. When the preacher came out of the vestry it was often necessary to clear the pulpit steps of those who had taken possession of them, in order to allow him to pass. After a while, and not without difficulty, all were in their places ; there was a general settling down, and perfect stillness as he gave out the first lines of the opening hymn. The congregations included all sorts and conditions of men. There were Methodists from various parts of London and from the country, religious people of all denominations, sight -seers, novelty- hunters, critics, wise men and simpletons of every degree. Sometimes the face of a well-known public character would be seen — actor, statesman, or Church dignitary. Men of the world would smile to meet each other in a place so unlikely as a Methodist chapel. His reading of the Scriptures never failed to fix the attention of the hearers. As he engaged in prayer with increasing freedom and fervour, responses would be heard, now singly, then in growing fulness and volume, while here and there an un- accustomed visitor would look round, half -amused, half-puzzled, to see what it meant, perhaps wishing himself well out of it. By-and-bye came the sermon. How well I remember his texts : — ' Are not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel ? may I not wash in them and be clean ? ' ' Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead ; ' ' Whom have I in heaven but Thee ? ' ' He being dead yet speaketh,' and many more. " After the text was announced there was a kind of subdued rustling as of preparation and expectancy, a final adjustment of bodily and mental faculties, and then a silence that could be felt. At intervals of perhaps ten minutes there were breathing spaces, when, at the close of a division or period, the spellbound hearers had a brief release, and there was a movement, almost a murmur, through the congregation as of pent-up 1858.] MEMORIES OF HINDE STREET. 137 emotion set free. There was a discharge of long-restrained coughs, a general drawing of breath and changing of position, until, after the short pause, the tension was renewed as the hearers passed again under the dominion of the pi'eacher and his theme. " There was undoubtedly in Mr. Punshon that kind of power which from its effect upon the sensibilities and emotions of a congregation has been called ' magnetic,' but his ministry at Hinde Street possessed a power above and beyond that of mere eloquence. He preached with 'power from on high,' that power by which souls are awakened, convinced of sin, and brought from death unto life. There were times when the congregation seemed overshadowed by the presence of the Lord, when the most careless were moved with awe, and Christian hearts were filled with the sweet and strong consolations of God. His yearning desire to bring sinners to Christ was in itself very affecting. To some of us it was a new revelation of the urgency and tenderness of the gospel itself. It seemed to say, ' God is my record how greatly I long after you all in the bowels of Jesus Christ.' In the prayer-meetings that often followed the evening service, his appeals would reach their climax of persuasiveness and affectionate entreaty. Nothing touched him more deeply than the presence of humble, sorrowful souls seeking the Lord. I have seen him pass from one to another, whispering words of counsel and direction, or offering short and earnest prayers, his face wet with tears and radiant with holy joy. At those never-to-be-forgotten times of blessing there was nothing of the masterful or self-confident in him, no self-assertion in his way of dealing with inquirers, but deep humility and reverence, a tender sympathy with souls, and great simplicity of faith towards God. We who were young at Hinde Street in the days of which I have been speaking were, perhaps, first drawn to Mr. Punshon by the eloquence of his ministry ; but the strongest and most enduring influence he exercised upon us was due to qualities in that ministry still higher and more precious. There were those among us who ' owed to him their own selves also.' " It will be remembered that Mr. Punshon had accepted an invitation to become one of the ministers of the Spitalfields Circuit, and that this arrangement had been set aside on the ground of his wife's state of health. This could not but be a great disappoint- ment, as there were special circumstances in the case which made the loss of his services a very serious one. The chapels throughout the Circuit were burdened with debt. The case of Spitalfields W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. vi. Chapel was aggravated by the fact that there were only three surviving trustees, and that of these only one, and he a man of limited means and non- resident, was willing to act. The congregation, which at one time was large and flourishing, was greatly reduced in numbers and resources. The in- come of the chapel was inadequate to the expenditure, and it was impossible to create a new trust, as persons could not be found to undertake the heavy responsi- bilities involved. In these very difficult circum- stances the Rev. Eobert Inglis, Superintendent of the Circuit, received permission fi'om the Conference to solicit help throughout the Connexion, and he toiled bravely at his uphill task. The prospect of Mr. Punshon's help made the matter look more hopeful, and when it was found that it could not be had, the disappointment was proportionately severe. It says much for the good feeling of those concerned that they relinquished their claim upon him, ** not grudgingly nor of necessity," but in a generous manner. Mr. Punshon was touched by the con- siderate kindness of his friends in the east of London, and determined to give them all the assist- ance in his power. With this object in view he prepared a lecture, by which he hoped to raise a considerable sum for the relief of the sorely burdened Circuit. The subject of the lecture was determined by the history of the Spitalfields Chapel. It was originally a French church, built for and used by the Protestant refugees who were driven from France by the Eevocation of the Edict of Nantes, In 1819 it was purchased by the Methodists. Mr. Punshon's imagination was pleasantly kindled by this blending 1858.] LECTURE: ''THE HUGUENOTSr 139 of Huguenot aud Methodist associations, and his lecture The Huguenots was the result. He threw himself heartily into the studies which the suhject required. The lecture gives evidence of considerable reading. It is longer, more elaborate, and contains a larger body of historic fact and biographic detail, than any of his previous lectures. Its literary quality is higher, though it is still an oration, not an essay. Perhaps the portraiture of the chief personages of the story — Coligny, Catherine de Medicis, Antoine de Bourbon, and Henry of Navarre — is the most striking characteristic. In these word- painted portraits many thought him at his best. In devoting his lecture on the Huguenots to the relief of the old Spitalfields Chapel Mr. Punshon did not offer that which cost him nothing. It was prepared in the intervals of frequent journeys, and amidst the great labours of his first months in London. It was begun in the most distressing days of his wife's illness, and finished during the dark and lonely weeks that followed her death. For the hope that had been revived by their removal to London was soon cast down by the appearance of worse symptoms, and the rapid progress of disease. Journal. '^ Septemher 11th, 1858. —My experience has been very varied during the last two mouths. I have been often weighed down with anxiety and overmuch sorrow, and sometimes, for I would not be ungrateful, exalted with favour, and enriched with blessing. My dearest wife, the loved object of so much solicitude, still continues weak and poorly. By the providence of God we had a very happy Conference, and I have passed through all the partings from attached friends, and am in my new sphere of labour, living in an airy, open situation. I feel much about my entrance upon ministerial life in London, but God is all-sufficient, and I will try to trust Him for all, I40 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. vi. " October 'liid.—\ dare not have transcribed my feelings during the past ten days, I have been so racked with distrust, ahirm, and anguish. My wife still very poorly. Mamma (]\Irs. Vickers) quite confined to bed, and insensible. It is a long, dark night ; surely the Lord in His merciful goodness will make the morning come by-and-bye. " October 6th. — Yesterday we committed dear mamma to the grave. So one of our sufferers has languished into endless day. She was seized with paralysis on Sunday, and rapidly sank away. Thus the links to earth loosen. I dread the effect upon Maria of this new sorrow. I am striving for calm and patient trust, hopefully to believe that God wiU perform His Word unto His servant, upon which He hath caused me to hope. " October 23r(I. — God has graciously preserved me in journepngs, and I have returned in safety after one thousand three hundred miles' travel in Scotland, but alas ! only to find my dearest wife visibly worse, and a very gloomy prognosis from the doctor respecting the future. He seems to consider her case well-nigh hopeless. Is it indeed to be so ? Has a lying spirit been suffered to deceive me, or have I been allowed to mistake the wishes of my own heart for whispers from on high •* It would seem that, in all human probability, she cannot recover, and my home is to be desolate, and my heart wrung, not only with the bitterness of death, but with disappointed hope, and trust, perhaps unwarranted, proved to be presumption. " October 30lli. — One or two seasons of deep heathen sorrow. I am try- ing for perfect resignation, praying for it, hoping to attain it, and do feel a measure of power to trust God with -ill. But I dare not brood over my circumstances or I should be unmanned. I want more personal holiness. " November Srd. — The dear sufferer is visibly wasting, and, I fear, sink- ing into the grave. This is indeed a bitterness, deep, prostrating, terrible. Oh ! to see the wife of my youth going down to death, to watch the woful sufferings, and to be unable to help . . . but the Lord has promised to sustain. " Xorember 6th. — The doctor has now pronounced my wife's case abso- lutely hopeless, and she has become so rapidly worse that the fatal issue cannot be long delayed. She is calmlj' and happily resigned, and in her patient trust exemplifies the perfect power of godliness. This is indeed strong consolation under a trouble otherwise overwhelming. "November 'Jth. — Had a very precious Sabbath communion with my dying wife. Felt very near heaven, and had strong consolation drafted into my soul. On the whole I am enabled to trust in God. " November V2th. — The stroke has fallen. My precious Maria languished into life on the 10th of tliis dreary November at a quarter past four in the afternoon. Her death was painless. Sudden faiutness seized her. ' This must be death,' she said. ' (Joing, going to glory I ' and in ten minutes she was immortal, ' no more to groan, no more to die.' For her the change I859-] JOURNAL. 141 is glorious, but for me, alas ! for me ! . . . For myself the future is dark, unknown, fathomless ; but he that walketh in darkness must stay himself upon his God. " Xoremhe)- l^tli. — This day I have committed my precious dust to its resting-place. ... I have consecrated myself afresh to the great work to which God has called me. My darling children are very interesting and affectionate. God gives me comfort in them amid my grief and trouble. December ith. — Have this night arrived at home after three weeks' sojourn in Devonshire and in Sheffield. Though I have had ' tears to drink in great measure,' I have had abundant consolation in the precious promises, of which sympathising fi'iends have reminded me, and in my own approaches to the throne of grace. I have felt inexpressibly in first preaching the gospel of God since my loss, but my determinations are strong for the Saviour and His service, and I pray that out of this seven- fold-heated furnace I may emerge into a mightier and more successful ministry. . . . My dear little Fanny's birthday. Lord, sanctify her sweet disposition by Thy Holy Spirit. " December 27th. — Still in infirm health, harassed by returns of an old and very depressing pain. It seems my lot still to sufEer. I cannot read God's purposes, but can trust that they are wise and kind. Greater sense of my loss yesterday, or rather on Saturday, than I have felt before. The first Christmas Day without my precious Maria. Everything seems to remind me of my sorrow. " January 8fh, 1859. — The services of the Watch-night and the Covenant were both blessed to my soul, though during the former I was in considerable pain. A very exciting service in St. James's Hall on Sunday evening. It is no small privilege to declare the truth to some three thousand people at once. May God keep me faithful ! ' Hold Thou me up, and I shall be safe ; draw me, and I will run after Thee.' "■January Ibth. — Sickness still in our family circle; children ailing, Fanny V. weakly and delicate, and Jane, our servant, confined to bed with what seems to be the beginning of a serious illness. The pride and worldliness are not trampled out yet. Lord ! in judgment, remember mercy. '^February Hh. — Again a sufferer ; intense pain in the face, and boils. Wish I could feel less impatient under the strokes of the chastising hand. Unable to do my work to-night, got through yesterday with great difl&culty. " February 12th. — Better able to work again, and very thankful to be so engaged. Some sense of loneliness cheered by remembrances of my beloved's happiness in the better world, and of my own usefulness here. Finished my lecture on ' The Huguenots,' prayed earnestly in the train to-day that it might be a blessing to thousauds, and no snare to me."' 142 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. VI. The lecture, prepared during the darkest weeks of his life, hears no trace of the shadows that hung so heavily upon him. There is nothing morbid in the sentiment, no falling away fi-om the healthy, hopeful strain of his teaching. It is probable, indeed, that the labour of composition brought relief, that in the selecting and grouping of materials, in shaping his periods and giving finish to his sketches, he found respite from his sorrow : — " For the unquiet heart and brain A use in measured language lies ; The sad mechanic exercise, Like dull narcotics, numbing pain." It was delivered on Friday, February 18th, 1859, in the old chapel at Spitalfields, a place consecrated by Huguenot traditions. The building was crowded to its utmost capacity, and when, after nearly two hours of unbroken sway over the audience, he resumed his seat, it was felt that the reputation established by his previous lectures. The Fropliet of Horeb, and JoJm Biuiyan, was carried to a higher level, and placed upon a still surer basis. Perhaps, when the hearers had recovered from what many called the enchantment of the time, and recalled the brilliant or moving passages by which they had been borne along, his recitation of Macaulay's Ivrij, and the portrait of Catherine de Medicis, stood out above all else. Through the clanging stanzas of the former they heard the drums and tramplings of the battle, the thunder of the cap- tains and the shouting ; while as they looked upon the latter a chill seemed to fall upon the audience, and freeze all hearts with abhorrence and dread. 1859-] CATHERINE DE MEDICI S. 143 Portrait of Catherine de Medicis. " Remorseless without cruelty, and sensual without passion — a diplo- matist without principle, and a dreamer without faith — a wife without affection, and a mother without feeling — we look in vain for her parallel. See her in her oratory ! Devouter CathoHc never told his beads. See her in the cabinet of Ruggieri the astrologer ! Never glared fiercer eye into Elfland's glamour and mystery ; never were philtre and potion (alas ! not all for healing) mixed with firmer hand. See her in the councU- room ! Royal caprice yielded to her commanding will ; soldiers faltered beneath her glance who never blenched at flashing steel ; and hoary- headed statesmen, who had made politics their study, confessed that she outmatched them in her cool and crafty wisdom. See her in disaster ! More philosophical resignation never mastered suffering ; braver heroism never bared its breast to storm. Strange contradictions are presented by her which the uninitiated cannot possibly um-avel. Power was her early and her lifelong idol, but when within her grasp she let it pass away, enamoured rather of the intrigue than of the possession ; a mighty huntress, who flung the game in largess to her followers, finding her own royal satisfaction in the excitement of the chase. Of scanty sensibilities, and without natural affection, there were times when she laboured to make young lives happy — episodes in her romantic life during which the woman's nature leaped into the day. Toiling constantly for the advance- ment of her sons, she shed no tear at their departure, and sat intriguing in her cabinet, while an old blind bishop and two aged domestics were the only mourners who followed her son Francis to the tomb. Sceptical enough to disbelieve in immortahty, she was prudent enough to provide, as she imagined, for any contingency ; hence she had her penances to purchase heaven, and her magic to propitiate hell. Queenly in her bearing, she graced the masque or revel, smiling in cosmetics and perfumes ; but Vicenza daggers glittered in her boudoir, and she culled for those who crossed her schemes flowers of exquisite fragrance, whose odour was death. Such was Catherine de Medicis, the sceptred sorceress of Italia's land, for whom there beats no pulse of tenderness, around whose name no clinging memories throng, on whom we gaze with a sort of constrained and awful admiration, as upon an embodiment of power, but power cold, crafty, passionless, cruel — the power of the serpent, which cannot fail to leave impressions on the mind, but impressions of basilisk eye, and iron f aug, and deadly grip, and poisonous trail." Journal. " Fehruavy Vitli. — Delivered my lecture to a very crowded house in old Spitalfields last evening. Very much exhausted at the close, but amply repaid by the feeling elicited and displayed. Wept bitter tears, though, I trust, without repining, as I thought that one who would have listened 144 ^ MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. vi. lovingly ' was not.' My Marah-fountain seemed opened afresh. My precious wife ! Oh I may I live for the heaven to whose wealth she has contributed. I pray that I may be strengthened in the delivery of this lecture, and saved from elation of spirit through the often undeserved applause of those who hear me." During the next two months the lecture was re-delivered to large and eager audiences in London, Manchester, Liverpool, Birmingham, Bristol, and elsewhere. Three days after its delivery at Spital- fields he gave it in Hinde Street Chapel, a week later in Belfast, two days afterwards in Liverpool, and the following week in St. James's Hall, London. Lord Shaftesbury was in the chair, there were three thousand three hundred persons present, and the net proceeds exceeded .£200. It was a memorable occasion, memorable even among many similar triumphs. The audience was by no means Umited to Methodists, or to Noncon- formists. It included persons of nearly every rank and class, but fused by a common enthusiasm. The rigid features of the chairman relaxed, and on his usually immobile countenance were seen the signs of strong emotion. At the close, when the whirl- wind of applause had died away, an anti-climax was forthcoming. A letter was handed to Mr. Punshon in the committee-room from an Essex clergyman, and was something to this effect : — " That the writer understood that the gentleman he addressed was a public lecturer ; that they wanted a lecture at the Mechanics' Institute in his village, and wished him to come ; that he did not know his fee, but if he would come and lecture, he could promise him that his travelling expenses should be paid, and that they would find him a bed at the ' Swan.' " The exertion involved in these efforts was very great. They did not take the place of his ordinary I859-] DOING TOO MUCH. eugagemeuts, but were iu addition to tliem. The week after lecturing at St. James's Hall he preached twice in London, once in Manchester, twice at Bridge water, lectured in Plymouth and Bristol, and spoke in St. James's Hall at a meeting of the Young Men's Christian Association. The following week, besides preaching in London and Nottingham, he lectured on three successive evenings at SheflSeld, York, and Leeds. The excessive strain began to tell on mind and body, but there was no relaxing. "J/«rc/t llih. — Another week of joumeyings, and of high excite- ment. . . . Feel poorly in body ; convinced that I am doing too much, but mind for the most part calm. Felt deeply on the occasion of my first public visit to Leeds, and the sight of some old friends was almost overwhelming. Fear lest the active should leave no room for the con- templative. T want to dwell more in thoughts of holiness and God. " April 2n(l. — Much perturbed this week by bringing up with cough- ing a small quantity of blood. Felt alarmed when I considered the multitude of engagements which I have yet on hand, and anxious, if it be God's will, to work yet longer in His service. Feel convinced that I have been doing too much. The physical and mental strain has been continuous and intense, and added to the sorrows of my lot, and the anxieties which I cannot tell the world, they have almost worn me down. May God strengthen me during the next few weeks. " May 1-lth. — Finished on Thursday evening the delivery of my lectures. Exeter Hall was full, and I felt very thankful when the whole afiEair was over. God has mercifully blessed me with more strength and less elation than I expected. To the glory of His grace I ascribe the success of the lecture, and on His altar I lay it." The work he had set himself to do was accom- plished. He had raised a thousand pounds for the old chapel at Spitalfields. It was a generous gift, ungrudged and free, and the bestowal brought him joy. What it had cost him he partly knew fi-om the alternate strain and reaction that accompanied and 10 146 W. MO RLE Y PUN^SHON. [chap. VI. followed each effort. But he did not care to count very closely his spending of himself. " The lore Of nicely-calculated less or more " had no attraction for him. But the cost of this and many another labour of love was reckoned against him, and exacted to the full in after years in shattered nerves and broken spirits, in languid days and sleepless nights. " May 28table last night, and a subduing and heavenly 156 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [CHAP. vil. conversation with brother James Smith, of Rochester, which did my heart good." The charge of plagiarism brought against Mr. Punshon in the columns of the Manchester Guardian went the round of the newspaper press. It could not fail to wound and distress him. His reply was a denial of the charge, and he at once forwarded the manuscript of his sermon to the editor of the Guardian, challenging a comj)arison with the printed discourse of Dr. Greenwood. The editor accepted the office of referee, and published the following decision : — " We have carefully perused Mr. Punshon's sermon on Deut. viii. 2, and a sermon of Dr. Greenwood's on Psalm cxliii. 5, pointed out to us as that of which the rev. gentleman is alleged to have unfairly availed himself. Our judgment upon the matter is that the charge of plagiarism is wholly without foundation. Between the train of thought in one section of Mr. Punshon's discourse and that of the whole of Dr. Greenwood's sermon, there is about as much similarity as might be expected between writers treating of the office of memory from a religious point of view. To this resemblance, such as it is, ample justice is done by describing it, in Mr. Punshon's words, as the legitimate result of reading and recollection ; and our opinion is that the grave accusation conveyed in the assertion that the two compositions contained ' the same divisions, the same argument, and the same beautiful language ' has been very groundlessly preferred. — Ed. Guardian." The year 1859 — 1860 was comparatively unevent- ful with Mr. Punshon. His round of labour was unceasing, save when occasionally interrupted by sickness. He lectured but little during the year, and prepared no new lecture. His strength was mainly given to preaching, and for this purpose, in addition to his work in London, he visited more than sixty towns in England and Wales. He also addressed some twenty-five missionaiy meetings. Besides his i860.] JOURNAL. 157 great sorrow, the shadow of which returned upon him again and again, the delicate health of his little daughter caused him almost constant anxiety. The troubles of some of his relatives were added to his own share of griefs, so that he was heavily weighted. But there was no slackening in his work, and, in particular, no faltering in the urgent, hortatory character of his preaching. It was never more suc- cessful in bringing souls to Christ than at this time, and in the joy of such sowing and reaping he had abundant consolation amid his sorrows. Journal. " January \st, 1860. — All thanks and praise to the merciful God who has permitted the light of another year to dawn upon me. It begins upon the Sabbath. May this be prophetic of great spiritual blessing. Felt humbled to the dust last evening at the special service at Mr. Stoughton s chapel. Never felt so thankful for the precious blood of Christ, and realised its power. Lord Macaulay has died suddenly during the week. Genius could not save him, any more than mechanical skill could save Brunei and Stephenson, or science Humboldt, or literary ability De Quincey and Wash- ington Irving, or saintly piety John Angell James, — all of whom during the year have been reaped by the great destroyer. I begin this year with solemn vows, determined by God's help to renew my covenant heartily, to war against fretfulness, vanity, impurity, repining, unbelief, and all other sins that do so easily beset me. January 7th. — A heart-searching sermon on Sunday from Mr. Arthur, a solemn Covenant-service, an awakening hour at night. Upwards of thirty gave in their names to decide for God. Bless the Lord for a good beginning to the year. " January 21st. — A week of mercy. Preserved in journeying, and kept comparatively free from the power of evil. Thankful to hear of Mrs. P. having found peace with God, and to receive several letters from inquirers after salvation. January 28th. — Absent from home all the week, and privileged unin- terruptedly to work for God. Saw the blessed effects of the revival in Newcastle and Sunderland, and renewed pleasantly the intercourse of former years with friends at Carlisle. My own soul for the most part breathing after God ; on one or two occasions intensely desirous of a closer fellowship, though again humbled by my faithlessness. 158 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. vii. February lltJi. — There seems an indication of (jod's presence and power in the Churches in a very remarkable manner. A midnight meet- ing held on Thursday was attended by two hundred and fifty of the poor fallen girls of Regent Street and the Haymarket, twenty-five of whom wished to go into Asylums. " 3Iarch 17th. — Shocked and startled on Sabbath morning by the news of the sudden death of dear Mr. Corderoy of High Street, our foremost man in this Circuit, struck down almost in a moment while engaged in business at Woolwich. How awfully admonitory to us who remain ! For him a glorious change." Letter to Rev. R. Ridgill. "March llth, 1860. " I don't know how much you know of me, so that I may tell you news which is no news ; but this letter, so long delayed, is now fairly started, and must be finished to-night, for each day seems to bring its own ' tale ' of work, and the hours are all too short. You have heard, I gather from your letter, that I have been deeply stricken, and that I mourn the wife of my youth. It is a passage in my history on which I do not care to dwell, for I have to remember sore struggles for resignation, and many seasons of deep, heathenish sorrow. To her the change was glorious ; I could not have wished an easier or a happier deathbed. You told me in your last that you rejoiced over me with trembling. Just listen to what I have had to humble me. For the three years previous to my wife's death I never had the doctor out of my house ; for the last .six years I have not been out of mourning. I have had to suffer my share of family troubles, in some cases to mourn over misconduct. Father-in-law, mother-in-law, grandfather. Uncle Henry, several other uncles, aunts, and cousins, and, in my own home, my wife and two children, have been taken from me. The waves have rolled over a stranded heart sometimes. But I praise God notwithstanding, and did praise Him even in my depth. I am never sanguine about my own experience, but my desires are after God, and I can truly say I am spoiled for any other service. I think, moreover, that He has shown me the proper worth of men's applause. I have passed through a novitiate of popularity, sensible of but little elation, T dare not Siiy of none, and longing always to retain my old affectionateness. I would a thousand times rather be loved than admired. My wife's sister is with me, and will remain, God willing. I have four little ones — Fanny Morley, the eldest, and my only girl, a delicate creature who has not outgrown her croup tendencies yet, though she is nine years old. She is sharp, lively, intelligent, old-fashioned. My eldest boy, John William Vickers, is at boarding-school, and I heard from his master on Wednesday that he has ju.st begun Greek. He is a wonderful arithme- tician, and has every sort of sen.se but common sense, and I hope that will i860.] JOURNAL. 159 bo given by-aud-byc. Morluy is a curly-headed, handsome, affectionate lad, whose development is remarkably slow, perhaps the surer for that, but hitherto he has not shown himself brilliant. The youngest, Percy Henry, is a fine, arch, intelligent, self-willed lad, as he says, ' half and a three years old.' I am blessed in my children, and their affectionate and winning ways have often recalled me from my sorrows. " I have more to do than I know how to accomplish. For the last three years I have averaged 14,000 miles a year in my evangelistic journeys, and am toiling hard to bring souls to Christ, and then to Methodism, as the purest and best administration of truth and godly discipline that I know. We are a few of us, young men, rising into influence in the Con- nexion. We have some grand men among us, — Arthur, /ac/Ze pr(wce/A« in most things, Gregory, Gervase Smith, Coley, Roberts, Rigg (for writing), M. C. Osborn, Fred Greeves, Tweddle, Sharr, Bush, G. S. Rowe, Piggott, John Moore, Workman, Josiah and Theo. Pearson, — all these among the younger men are men of mark in their way. We have the Conference in London this year. Opinion is much divided about the Presidency. Some think Stamp will get it ; Hoole, Osborn, Thornton, Rattenbury, Prest, Macdonald, all are named. I suppose you know I sit on the platform as one of the Conference letter-writers, and have the Financial Secretaryship of the London District, and, what I like better, the Secretaryship to the Committee for the examination of candidates for the ministry. Altogether, but that I want more grace, I am very well contented with my lot, and hope to live and die a brotherly Methodist preacher. " Do you write verse now ? I have no time for anything but making sermons. Isn't it like me to write on these fragments of paper, and those upside down ? Well, the heart is right after all, and it beats very tenderly for my old friend. God bless you, dear Hardric, and your wife and bairns." Journal. " March 2ith. — Disquieted a little by the persevering republication of my sermons, some that I would fain withdraw from circulation. Much encouraged by an increase of seventy-seven in the Circuit this quarter, and ninety-two on trial. This is the highest good. " April 14cth. — Poor George Gaskell, of Leeds, suddenly snatched away, just my age. Father Chappell gathered also home. Lord, teach me to live in habitual preparation. " April 2Sth. — Much shocked and grieved by the case of my dear friend Tweddle, who was severely injured by a railway accident on Monday. What am I that, through extensive journeyings, I should have been so long preserved ! All the household ill with colds and coughs, induced by this very trying weather. " Mai/ 26th. — No improvement in my dear little girl, who coughs almost i6o TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. vii. incessantly. Surely the Lord is not about again to open the family grave. Oh, if it be possible, Lord, spare my ' one little ewe lamb.' Stri^ang for the submission that shall be neither presumption nor distrust, but find it hard to be realised. God of all grace, help, help, or I perish ! What a hard heart mine must be that I cannot be trusted with happiness, lest I should, like Jeshurun, ' wax fat, and kick.' " May 29th. — God has mercifully spared me to complete my thirty- sixth year. My look back to-day has been a very regretful one. I am deeply humbled that my life has been so very unworthy. But I have renewed my covenant. God helping me, I will be the Lord's. I renewed it with my early waking thoughts. I renewed it in the train as I came up from Lincoln, and I have renewed it this evening solemnly, as I stood upon the turf which wraps my ' precious clay' in Kensal Green Cemetery. May God strengthen me to keep my vows ! " June IGth. — Depressed and sad. It seems as though my life were to be a life of struggle for submission to God's will, a constant round of wearying and irritating trial. Fanny Vickers and little Fanny both sorely cough- ing. My sister's cough almost incessant. How vile I must be when so much affliction is needed to keep me humble. Lord, give me the victory ! My anxieties are sometimes so consuming that if I am not delivered from them, or enabled to rise above them, I shall die. Thou canst help, 0 Lord, and Thou alone. August ith. — Still engaged at Conference, and necessarily much absorbed with its manifold business, though not ^vithout upliftings of heart towards heaven. Renewed my old grief by a visit to Kensal Green to-night, in company with my friends Smith and Wilson ; but comforted again by the thought of the guarded rest in which my dear one lies.'' The side of Mr. Punshon's life which is revealed in these extracts from his journal was wholly un- known to the multitudes whom he addressed, week after week, in all parts of the country. A few intimate fiiends were aware of his private sorrows and anxieties. But the spiritual conflicts to which they gave rise, the deep depression, the self- reproach, the sense of loneliness and helplessness that returned again and again, — these were hidden even from them. Still less could the general public imagine at what cost to himself, with what inner distresses and sinkings of heart, he was doing his i860.] DEPRESSION AND CONFLICT. i6i work. To all outward appearance his course was one of unbroken popularity and honour. Judged by the crowds that flocked to hear him, by the tributes of the press and the favour of the people at large, by the power with which, in the pulpit and on the plat- form, he swayed the hearts of tens of thousands, and, above all, judged by the results of his ministry among his own flock and elsewhere, nothing seemed wanting to the happiness of his life. But there was ample counterpoise of suffering to keep the balance. At no period of his life was he wholly free from the discipline of pain, and it would seem as though it kept pace, to say the least, with the increase of his honours and suc- cesses. Physical languor, the reaction from excessive toil, nervous fears, sharp attacks of painful ailments, never-ceasing anxieties concerning his children, an almost too complete sympathy with the troubles of others, the oft re-opened wound of his bereavement, and a certain tendency to, perhaps, morbid introspec- tion,— all these together made the "thorn " which kept him from being exalted above measure. There are deeper notes of distress in his journal than any recorded here ; but enough will appear in this record of his life to show that he was not exempted from that general law which makes sacrifice and suffering the conditions of victory. "The servant is not greater than his Lord." The Conference over, Mr. Punshon took a much- needed holiday at Llandudno, and then, returning to Bayswater, entered on his third and last year in the Hinde Street Circuit. Journal. " 1860, Septemher \st. — On Sabbath the 12th, while preaching in dear old Norfolk Street, I was distressed by bringing up a small 11 l62 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. vii. quantity of blood. The prospect of enforced silence at first was very hard to be9,r, but I found some power to stay myself upon God. The last fortnight has been spent at Llandudno in company with dear ones and loving friends, and I hope I am the better for it. Spiritually, I have had much to mourn over. A spirit of petulance, murmuring, and rebellion has at times possessed me, for which I grieve before God. " September 8th. — Went in the forenoon to the Scotch Church in the Lung' Arno, witnessed the recognition of two new elders, and preached to a congregation of eighty-three persons. It was to me a joy and a refreshing to be permitted to speak for my Master in Italy. In the afternoon, my friend Mr. Gerv.ise Smith occupied the pulpit, these being the ' conditions ' upon which our friend Mr. Macdougall consented to be our guide yesterday." From Florence they went to Genoa, and thence returned to Milan. From Milan their route was by Como, and Bellaggio to Colico, and over the Spliigen Pass to Coire, and it was their intention to return home hy Ziirich, Schaffhausen, and Basle, Baden, Heidelberg, etc., to Cologne, and thence to Calais. " October 2Ath. — Baden Baden. . . . After the table d'hote, where my v/s-a-ri.s was an English M.P., we went to the Conversationshaus, where in the large and splendid hall a brilliant company Wiis gathered, listening to music ; while in the smaller saloons excited players were busy at the 18650 JOURNAL OF TRA VEL. 243 gaming tables. The only persons who appeared unmoved were the croupiers. For nearly an hour we stood watching the players, some at rouleUe, and some at vingt-un, whatever those games may be. I tried at first to understand them, but gave up the attempt in despair. It was a sad sight ; old men with white hair, men in manhood's prime, youths just entering upon life, gouty old dowagers rouged to cheat people into the belief that they were young, new-made wives entreating their husbands for money that they might stake it upon the hazard, and worst of all, ' simple maidens in their flower,' young Eves, with loose duennas or gambling mothers like serpents by their side, — all were there, intent upon the play, fevered with the excitement of occasional gain, but of far more frequent loss. I observed some who seemed to win by every venture, others whom ill-luck attended throughout. The English M.P. who sat opposite me at the table d'hote was there, and staked so largely as to excite the attention of the managers, who keenly watched his movements. At one time he staked a whole handful of gold at a venture, which the merciless rakes swept off, and again he extended his hands, like Danae, to receive a shower of gold. It is to be hoped he rose from that table ' a sadder, but a wiser man,' for he left off a loser of something like a hundred and fifty pounds. I was particularly struck with a young girl with a very innocent face who blushed painfully with the excitement of the game. She lost for a long time, but played on with desperate hardihood until a slight turn of fortune came. She had an elderly woman with her who seemed to prompt her to play, and to counsel her where to place her money. ... I have rarely seen a sadder sight than those tables presented. I longed for the language to testify against the abomination, or to lay a beseeching hand upon the shoulder of that young girl, and utter a word of warning in her ear. " October 21th. — Brussels. We had hoped to have a quiet Sabbath in Brussels, and on Monday to leave for ' home, sweet home.' Alas for the vanity of all human expectations ! Letters have come, and the postscript of one of them brings me tidings that a sore trouble has befallen. The messenger of death has again entered our family, and my loved ones at home need me, for they are in sorrow. Half-past six was the hour at which the intelligence reached me, eight o'clock saw me on the route for home. The night fitful and stormy, with now and then pause of calm, and glimpse of star, fit emblem of my disturbed mind, with its fluctuations of distrust and reliance, of wonder and prayer. Calais is reached, we have a woful passage ; by six in the morning are in London, and have aroused my friend's household. At 11.45 I left Paddington for Bristol, arriving safely at home by three o'clock. So comes to an end, abruptly, and by a great sorrow, this Journal of Travel. The sorrow, however, is but a human pang, for upon the future of our beloved one no cloud darkens. 244 MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. ix. " ' She is not, for the Lord hath taken her — And softly, from the hushed and darkened room, Two angels issued, where but one went in.' " During the last five weeks we have been preserved without an accident, and without an illness, through a journey of three thousand miles, during which we have been in Belgium, France, the Duchies of Luxembourg, Darmstadt, and Baden, Prussia, Italj', and nineteen cantons of Switzerland. We have seen nineteen lakes, sixty-five rivers, and fifty- two towns with more than ten thousand inhabitants. We have travelled on one river, seven lakes, and two seas, twice on horseback, in one stage- coach, four carriages, five diligences, on fourteen steamboats, and thirty- one railways. We have crossed both Alps and Apennines, and now, thanks be to God for the sight of some of His most marvellous and beautiful works, both of that beauty which He has enabled His creatures to develope, and of that which He has flung forth from His own royal hand. I would fain hope that my life shall be the better for my journey, and that my ministry, if it please God that I should continue to exercise it, shall be more faithful and efficient because of the revelation of God which has been shown to me in nature, — a revelation with no redemptive strains among its music, but glorious with exceeding glory when illus- trated by the Word, and viewed with a faith which sees the Redeemer in all." On his return to Clifton Mr. Punshon found him- self so far improved in health as to be able to resume his work, or at least some part of it. He preached but once on a Sunday, and greatly lessened the num- ber of his week-day engagements. He was, indeed, obliged to "go softly," and economise in various ways the strength which for many years he had spent so lavishly. This slackening in his public labours had its compensations both for himself and his people. He was able to meet classes, to conduct prayer-meetings, and to bring his great influence and administrative skill to bear upon the details of Circuit work. A new chapel at Kedland was the next step in the development of the Clifton Circuit, and he set himself to devise a scheme for its speedy erection. 1865.] NOTES ON CONTINENTAL MISSIONS. 245 One of his first acts after returning from the Con- tinent was to put in writing his impressions of Methodist missions in Italy. His had been in no sense a tour of official inspection or inquiry. But he was deeply interested in the cause of evangelical religion in Europe, and he examined such aspects of it as came before him with much sympathy and with keen intelligence. He was neither an ofiicial optimist nor an irresponsible fault-finder; but his public ad- vocacy of missions would have been a poor and hollow thing if he could have passed, incurious and unconcerned, through those portions of the missionary field of which he had so often spoken. Then, as in later years of official responsibility, he sought to look the work of Christian missions fairly in the face, to take account of all the facts of the case, the difficulties to be encoimtered, the modes of work, the character of the workers, and the failures and successes achieved. He was the last man to press a true-hearted, faithful Christian labourer with impatient and unreasonable demands for visible results ; but he was equally in- disposed to shut his eyes to what seemed inadequacy of eff'ort, or deficiency in the true spirit and aim of the missionary worker. From notes taken on the spot he wrote as follows : — " I was desirous, during my late visit to the Continent, to learn as much as possible of the state and prospects of our evangelical work, especially in Italy. Of the work in Lausanne, where I had the privilege of preaching through an interpreter, I need only say that it was pleasant to observe that Pasteur Hocart was recognised as a notahiUty by the inhabitants of the town, and to find that a faithful testimony was lifted up for Christ amid prevailing formalism and superstition ; while one could only long for the work to be transferred from the stifling room up three flights of stairs to the ' Memorial Chapel.' The site which M. Hocart prefers seems to me to be by far the best — just below the Post Office, two minutes' 246 TV. MO R LEY PUATsHON. [chap. IX. walk from the Hotel Gibbon, and in sight of every passenger upon the fine new bridge. " It would be presumptuous to express any very decided opinion about the woi'k in Italy, as I took but a flying glance at several of the stations ; but sometimes the impressions of a passer-by arc valuable, and a quick eye and a thirst for information will often give a looker-on tolerably correct ideas. " My impressions of that part of the work which is under Mr. Piggott's immediate superintendence were very favourable. The work in Milan is healthy, and the book-depot, and the preaching-room, as well as the school, under their present guidance appear to me to be answering good ends, and to be honestly worth the money expended upon them. It is quite evident, however, that Mr. Piggott is over-weighted, and could accomplish far more work for Christ if he had less labour on his hands. I did not go into South Italy, but the accounts from Naples and its neigh- bourhood (from independent sources) are very satisfactorj'. There are some difliculties and a slow growth in Parma and Spezia, but I was greatly pleased in the former case with the heart and good feeling of the Evan- gelist, and the book-depot is doing good. Signor Gioia seems a man of the right stamp, and the congregations are flourishing. The school, how- ever, has greatly fallen ofE. In Spezia, Signor Lissolo's health has been very feeble, and when I saw him he was just recovering from a severe attack of fever. He has not yet establi-shed a school, but it is talked of, and some gentleman in the neighbourhood has made a liberal offer towards its support. " The least satisfactory part of the work, as it seems to me, is where one would have hoped for its healthiest development, in the city of Florence. I may here say that I went to Florence biassed rather than otherwise in favour of our operations there. I confess to have been disappointed by almost everything I saw and heard. The impression is made upon me, rightly or wrongly, that the money now expended by the Missionary Committee in Florence is not put to the best advantage. " On the whole, my decided impression is, that to do any permanent good in Florence we must begin anew, taking the work entirely out of the present hands, and that the best thing would be to confide it to a resident English minister, if work could be found for his Sabbaths. The difficulty about this is that an English cause would interfere greatly with Mr. MacdougaU's church, and be regarded as unfriendly, and that an English- man could hardly expect to master Italian so as to preach in fastidious Tuscany, whose proud sons will not even hear Gavazzi, because he is a Bolognese. " I have preferred to write my impressions currente calmno, for I am no accredited agent or official inspector ; but I love the cause of Christ, and am anxious that it should have free course in Italy." 1865.] THE JAMAICA QUESTION. 247 Towards tLe end of the year 1865 a series of events occurred in Jamaica by which public feeling in England was deeply stirred. An insurrection of negroes took place at St. Morant's Bay, in which eighteen white persons, including magistrates and clergymen, w^ere killed, and more than thirty wounded. The insurrection was suppressed by Mr. Eyre, the Governor of the island, with skill and vigour, but, it was believed, with unnecessary severity. In addition to the loss of life inflicted in the course of the military operations, no less than three hundred and fifty-four sentences of death were pronounced by court-martial, and executed. When the news reached England, public opinion was strongly divided on the subject of the Governor's conduct. Broadly speaking, it produced two parties, — the one abounding in admiration for the coolness, energy, and skill by which the Governor had suppressed a local, and averted a general, in- surrection of the negroes ; the other full of indigna- tion at the severities exercised in the process, and especially denouncing the trial and execution of Mr, Gordon, a coloured member of the Assembly. Committees were formed for the prosecution of Governor Eyre, and for his defence, and for some months the Jamaica question agitated the whole country. Distinguished men plunged into the controversy on the one side and on the other with equal energy. Mr. John Stuart Mill, Mr. Peter Taylor, and Mr. Goldwin Smith were prominent in the attack, and Mr. Carlyle and Mr. Euskin in defence. Mr. Mill writes, " The perpetrators of those deeds were defended and applauded in Eng- 248 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [CHAP. IX. land by the same kind of people wlio had so long upheld negro slavery ; " Mr. Carlyle speaks of the meetings and the protests, more silo, as " the English nation making a dismal fool of itself." It became very difficult for men to think with calm- ness or speak with moderation. The controversy was carried on in superlatives, and the only issue that seemed worth debating was whether Governor Eyre was an incarnate fiend or an angel of light. Amid the general excitement there were some who preserved their reasonableness and self-control, and could speak strongly yet temperately, joining in the demand for Government inquiry without prejudging the question in its every detail. Mr. Pimshon was one of these. A crowded meeting was held at the Broadmead Rooms, Bristol, in which he urged that searching and impartial inquiry should be made into all the circumstances attending the revolt in Jamaica and its suppression : — ' ' He wished to indicate the course which he thought that inquiry ought to take. It was not the question of putting a man on his trial. That there was something wrong in Jamaica they in Enghvnd were convinced, and they were anxious to get to the bottom of it. They were anxious, not for the trial of Governor Eyre, nor for the trial of the Baptist Missionaries, but for a thorough investigation of the whole affair. There should be inquiry into the causes of the admitted discontent on the part of the negroes in Jamaica ; inquiry why such risings had not taken place in Barbadoes and Trinidad, where larger efforts had been made for the education and uplifting of the people than were permitted in Jamaica. He would inquire, further, whether it was really, as the Timen asserted, a rising of colour against colour ; whether it was a riot, a servile insurrec- tion, a political revolution, or actual rebellion. Had the teaching of the missionaries contributed to bring it al)out? If they had been indiscreet, reprimand them ; if seditious, silence or punish them. But if they had uplifted the people, restrained lawlessness, and prevented for a long series of years the outbreak which had come at last, then let them be cleared of reproach, and receive their thanks. 1865.] THE JAMAICA QUESTION. 249 " Thon tbei'o should be iuquiry wliethcr the dearest privilege of the British subject had not been infringed in the case of George William Gordon. Upon his guilt or innocence he would pronounce no opinion. He waited for evidence. Antecedently, his character was as good as that of Governor Eyre. Previous good character was the possession of both. It would be no joy to any right-minded person that such a man as Governor Eyre should be proved to have committed himself. It would be a relief to all if he could be cleared altogether ; or if he had done wrong, that it was error of judgment, not cruelty of heart. It should, further, be inquired how it was that not a single casualty had occurred among those engaged in suppressing a widely- organised revolt ; and, finally, it should be inquired whether, after the rebellion had ceased, ex- treme measures had been resorted to in the execution of such a large number of persons. "His chief motive in the matter was not the crimination or the acquittal of Governor Eyre or of the Baptist missionaries, nor the vindi- cation or otherwise of the negro character. It was the honour of England that moved him most. The moral prestige of a nation was its greatest heritage. There were young states in Europe, there was a country now mourning the death of one of the most sagacious monarchs who ever occupied a throne, a people impregnated with English ideas, and looking up to England as its model ; there was young Italy just shaping itself for freedom ; there were some of the freest minds in France looking with respect and admiration towards the institutions of England. It was vain to conceal from themselves that in Belgium, in Italy, in France, public feeling had received a rude shock from the events which had occurred in Jamaica. There were other countries in Europe which they had been accustomed to rebuke, and those countries were speaking of the sullied name of England. He had read these words in an American newspaper : — ' At the close of a long rebellion, the British press with one accord counselled mercy to those who had been defeated. This is English precept. A small rebellion breaks out in a district of one of her own colonies, and she executes the rebels, and dooms the forfeited lives to death by thousands : this is England's practice.' He desired to clear his country from such reproaches. He Avanted those exti-emc measures to be explained and justified, or disproved. If they could neither be disproved nor justified, let them be disavowed, and, in some sort, atoned for. Then their country would justify the hopes of the nations that looked up to her as a model, and disappoint the expectations of those who would delight to see her shamed and humbled.' " For months together during this and the two following years there are no entries in Mr. 250 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. ix. Piinshon's journal. He continued to devote him- self to the work of his Circuit, and to the affairs of the Bristol district, of which he was chairman ; but in every other respect he contracted the sphere of his labours. From May 1865 to January 1867 he entirely discontinued lecturing. He was sadly broken in health, and subject from time to time to great depression. His letters to his faithful friends Mr. Hirst and Mr. Grervase Smith contain such items as these : — " Nothing will avail, I fear, but absolute rest for twelve months, even if that will. . . . " I have at last come to the conclusion only to preach twice a week, once on Sunday, and once on a week-day, until the Conference, when, if I am not better, T must become a lawyer's clerk or something of the kind ! . . . I hardly know what to say of myself. I am well and ill by turns. I think of going to Malvern for a fortnight to give a brief trial to the cold water system. After the district meeting we start, all being well, for the Continent. . . . " Dr. Grindrod writes that rest is essential, and I shall be obliged to take it sooner or later. I must ask him how long a rest. I believe I am slowly improving, but very slowly." Journal. " Fehruavxj \^th. — Wretchedly ill last Sunday, and by consequence de- pressed all the week. This chronic 'unwellness' is difficult to under- stand, and hard to bear. But the Lord knows the way, and He leadeth me. I long to trust Him thoroughly. It is ' encircling gloom,' but He knows the end from the beginning. The doctors all speak hopefully, but the hopelessness of my own feeling is great. " March 4th. — Spent the la<. — I have seen this morning one of the most astonishing and impressive sights I ever witnessed. It was the festival of the Corims Domini, and we secured a balcony in the Piazza San Marco to witness the grand procession. It started about eleven o'clock, and it was after one before the ceremony was over. Each parish in the city sent representatives bearing immense gilt candelabra with lighted candles, each parish having its own rich symbol. After these had passed in almost interminable lines, came Franciscan and Dominican friars in their peculiar garb ; then the orphan and foundling children. After these the liveried servants of the principal citizens (strikingly few in number), then the poikMu, the municipality, and Count Toggenburg, the Austrian Governor, and finally, the Canons of St. Mark, and, under a costly baldacchino, said to be worth two million francs, the Patriarch and his suite. When he had reached the end of the square opposite the principal door of the cathedral the procession stopped, the Host was elevated, the vast multitude uncovered, and every knee was bowed amid a silence that might be felt. The Host was most distinctly worshipped, it was a piece of sheer idolatry. When the blessing had been given, the cannon roared, trumpets blared, and the holiday had begun. Apart from its religious significance, the whole thing was very imposing. The square glittering with gold and blazing with light, the awful silence, the simultaneous clash of arms as the soldiers knelt in homage, constituted as impressive a pageant as this world can furnish, a memory that will not easily die. "... The people in Venice are intensely ItaUan, though they can only ' peep and mutter ' their longings in the presence of an armed 254 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. ix. tyranny. It is said that the guns in the forts round Venice have been pointed inward, and that in Verona they are aimed at the houses of the principal citizens. Such is the foundation upon which Austrian occupa- tion of Venetia rests. May God reaUse the dream of a united Italy, which shall include not only Venice but Rome ! " From Venice they made their way to Milan, Como, and Bellagio, and crossed the Sphigen Pass into Switzerland, as he had done some eight months before with Mr. Gervase Smith. Ten days later they were at Chamouny, having come from Martigny by the Tete Noire, not without amusing experience of mulish humours on the way. Journal. " Our mules were characters in their way ; one, like a shy damsel, provokingly modest ; another, a useful animal in the main, but subject to fits of perverse melancholy ; another, described by its eloquently indig- nant rider as ' perfectly intractable, sir ; utterly impervious to impression. Why, sir, I broke three sticks and seriously damaged an umbrella in the endeavour to bring it to reason ! It has the hide of a rhinoceros, the feet of a hippopotamus, the head of a donkey, and the tail of ApoUyon ! ' " After dinner we went out and beheld perhaps the grandest sight of our lives, the sunset on Mont Blanc and the Glacier des Bossons, in a cloudless sky. The monarch's head was bare, and he had not on even the thinnest of his many cloud-veils, and his attendant aiguilles stood out like spearmen on duty, sharp and keen against the evening sky. The rose and purple varied with yellow and green shades upon the glittering snow, and in the solemn hush of the great hills, as if they grieved mutely for the dying sun, there was something at once to calm and to elevate the soul." The " Journal of Travel " shows very clearly that, when relieved from the strain of his work, and cheered by pleasant jom'neyiug with fit companions, Mr. Punshon's health and spirits rapidly improved. If there be any foundation for the popular behef that the sevens in a man's life are critical years, years when, so to speak, leases fall in and need to be renewed ; if at these recurring periods nature 1865.] JOURNAL OF TRAVEL. 255 re-adjusts her forces and makes her transitions, there was ground for hope in the way that his whole system answered to restorative measures. It has been shown that for a fong time he had lived and worked at the highest possible pitch. He had overdrawn the account with his physical and nervous powers, and there were unmistakable threats that those drafts would not be honoured much longer. It was feared by many — feared by himself in his hours of depression — that he had gone too far for complete recovery, that broken health and shattered nerves were all to which he could look forward. But the genial, cheery month of travel with his friends showed that underneath the ailments and nerve-exhaustion from which he was suffering there was still a vast reserve of vital power. His enjoy- ment of nature was fresh and keen, rising at times to rapture ; his interest in men and things was undi- minished ; his imagination kindled as readily as ever in the presence of foreign cities and ancient buildings, of venerable monuments or renowned works of art. His quick glance let few things escape it — solemn, pathetic, or grotesque — in the scenes amid which he found himself. His memory swept into its receptacle facts and dates, sayings and doings, old and new, with a swiftness and certainty in which there was little, if any, falling off; while his pen, still " the pen of a ready writer," found it no task to write in amplest detail the history of each day. These things did not betoken a real and permanent exhaustion. Recovery might be delayed, but it must surely come to a nature which, in spite of a prodigal expenditure, showed still such large 256 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. ix. and available resources. Meantime, he himself, even when most depressed, " loved life, and would fain see many days." He sought to school and subdue himself in this matter, to bring his mind to the thought that possibly his work was well-nigh done, and his course finished. It was a time of conflict and discipline. " Take me not away in the midst of my days. ... 0 Lord, I am oppressed ; under- take for me. . . . Nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wUt." Thus William Morley Punshon prayed in the darkest hours of 1866, — a year when the shadow of death seemed gathering for him. But he was heard in that he feared. As to the king of Judah wben " he turned his face toward the wall and prayed unto the Lord," "there were added unto his days fifteen years." " The Lord hath chastened me sore : but He hath not given me over unto death." " I shall not die but hve, and declare the works of the Lord." CHAPTER X. 1866— 1868. CLIFTON, LONDON. Aged 42 to 44. Letter to Rev. R. Ridgiil. — Publishes Sabbath Chimes. — Letters from Friends. — Conference of 1867.— Completion of Watering-Places Chapel Fund. — Appointed President of Canadian Conference. — Inner History. — Continental Travel. — Lecture : Florence and its Memories. — Address and Presentation. — Farewell to England. TowAEDS the close of the year 1866, Mr. Punshon wrote at considerable length to his old friend Ridgiil. Nearly five and twenty years had passed since they met, and the correspondence had, as was almost inevitable, dwindled down to an interchange of letters at long intervals; but each retained for the other the affection which had begun in boyhood, and was to last to the close of their common life- time. Letter to Rev. R. Ridgill. " September 2dih, 1866. " I can scarcely tell you how often I have made up my mind to write to you, nor how I have been prevented time after time. If you knew my experience during the last twelve months, you would not wonder at my silence, and you would forgive my seeming neglect. " My illness has changed me in many respects ; not essentially, for I am still made up of the old warp and woof, but, being an exhaustion of nervous energy, it touched the springs of hope, and life seemed, without any physical disease upon me, to have lost all its buoyancy and vigour. 17 258 W. MORLEY PUNS HON. [chap. X. I am better, much better, but it will probably be a long time before I am well, if indeed I ever possess again the robustness of former years. I have had to struggle sorely, moreover, with mental disquietude. I could have braced myself for illness, but to be neither ill nor well tried my faith and patience to the uttermost. " Of -English Methodism you know, I suppose, as much as I can tell you. There is a growing indifference to class meetings, which I do not like to see ; but it seems an inevitable tendency of a higher civilization where the culture of the leaders does not advance with that of their charge. Some say it is a result of a more refined and reverent religious feeling. This I have yet to learn. Our pulpit is well sustained. Many of our younger men are of great promise. External prosperity abounds, but the numbers remain almost stationary. It is small comfort to know that we share this languor with other Churches. The attritions of mind are fiercer now than they ever were, and all things appear in preparation for such a war of opinion as we have never seen yet. "... I have a chapel on hand just now, to be opened on November 1st. My fund, which is yet £1,200 short of the £10,000 contemplated, keeps me busy, for I must finish it this year. " How many children have you V Mine are making me feel old. Fanny, my eldest, my only girl, is fifteen years old, just finishing her schooling, and I am happy to say, decided for God, and a member of Society. She is tall and delicate. John William, my eldest boy, is fourteen, a mathematical genius, but a care and anxiety to me lest he go astray. Morley, the next, is a little curlj'-headed rascal who can't learn from books at all, but of shrewd and observant habits. Percy Henry, the youngest, is a very boy, with a boy's 'dread of books and love of fun.' On the whole they are a comfort to me, and I bless God for them. "... How strange it is to look back on former times, when there Wiis a romance even about one's follies. Do you ever essay poetry now ? I am foohsh enough to meditate another volume, a sort of Methodist Christum Year. Whether it will ever appear, time only can decide. The muse is capricious and wilful, and chooses the times of her visits and inspirations. My hobby is for autographs still, and my small store has swollen into a large collection, very large for an amateur, and containing a few very valuable things. '• John Bedford is to be our next President, I suppose. After him, George Scott, Stockholm Scott as we call him. Some in the former time have spoken of me, but that has gone by, prababbj for eccr. I know what I say when I say this. 1 should greatly deprecate the thought of myself in such a position at present, and though I may have dreamed of it some- times, tlie dream has had an awakening, and I am wide awake, and sorrowfully, now. 1 can .say no more on this subject. What I have said hero will perhaps be interpreted .some day. i866.] A NEW PROJECT. 259 " I firmly believe, the longer I live, in the mission of Methodism as the preservative of sound doctrine, a happy repository both of order and of life. Do please take this letter as in some sort an atonement for past transgression. Believe me, my heart is the same, and yearns after my old friend ' Hardric ' ; and though ' Roderick ' has been superseded by ' Wilfred,' and ' Wilfred ' by a less euphonious name which I bear before the world, I have a fervent ' God bless you ' for the friend of my early days." An allusion in the above letter that will need explanation appears also in a letter written at the same time to Mr. Gervase Smith : — Letter to Rev. G. Smith. " September, 1866. ''Think of my year's work, and pity me :— £1,'25U yet to raise for my fund ; £45 of the sum I promised to Redland Chapel yet unraised ; £140 for the Circuit not forthcoming ; all the subscriptions to my fund to collect ; Redland Chapel to open and clear, yet £2,000 short ; my Chris- tian Year to finish ; all Circuit and District matters to look after ; the conference to prepare for ; and then, the unknown beyond.'''' During his year, not of rest but of diminished activity, he had been quietly engaged upon a new project. Partly as a solace and a recreation, and partl}^ as service to Christ and His kingdom, in the hope that " verse might find him who a sermon flies," he set himself to the preparation of a series of meditations in verse on the great themes of the gospel, and the chief aspects of Christian life and experience. For many years previously he had discontinued the writing of verse. Although poetry had been his first love, and to become a poet was perhaps his earliest ambition, the vocation of the preacher had proved the stronger, and, save for an occasional poem, gay or grave, written to give plea- sure to a friend, he had produced little or nothing since the youthful effusions already noticed. The 26o TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. x. feeling for poetry had continued strong with him : it had touched and brightened his style, and given glow and charm to his discourses ; but it had not been concentrated upon poetry as an art, or disciplined to the production of anything that re- quired sustained and serious effort. He now essayed the poet's task under conditions very different from those under which his early efforts had been made ; and it is not easy to say whether the later conditions were more, or less, favourable to success than the earlier. On the one hand, his powers had greatly developed, and his whole nature had been deepened and enriched. He was now in the prime of life, and had passed through an exceptional amount of the discipline that leads to wisdom, to ripeness of judgment and largeness of heart. In these respects his qualifications as a poet were vastly greater than in his young and callow days. But, on the other hand, everything in the life of more than twenty years had gone in the direction of the preacher's calling and cast of mind, while his literary style had been moulded by the requirements and conditions of public-speaking. It remained to be seen whether his well-trained instinct of rhetoric would help or hinder him in the sphere of poetry. Moreover, a man who has attained conspicuous success in one sphere cannot make a venture in another without a certain risk. Mr. Punshon was now one of the most prominent men of his day, and his reputation as a preacher fixed the stan- dard by which he would be measured when lie appeared in another capacity. From the nature of the case, any volume of verse he might now publish 1867.] ^'SABBATH CHIMES. 261 would undergo very different criticism from that which his previous efforts had received. But his ambition was a very modest one, or rather was wholly subordinate to the one great aim of his ministry. He did not greatly care to consider whether the volume he proposed to issue would raise or lower his reputation. Early in 1867 he published Sahhath Chimes; or, Meditations in Verse for the Sundays of a Year. The preface was as follows : — " To those whose ' heart is as my heart,' I offer this little volume, the offspring of a year's enforced pause amid the activities of a busy ministry. I covet for it, chiefly, three successes : that, if God wills, it may be a messenger of mercy to the wandering ; that it may be a comforter to the troubled ; and that it may be a memory of the writer to many friends." It has been seen from his letters, and is apparent from the character of the work itself, that Sabbath Chimes was intended to be a kind of Christian Year, an imitation of the general method and spmt of Keble's well-known volume. The resemblance lies so frankly on the surface as to be an obvious part of the writer's design, and must be taken into ac- count in forming a judgment upon his work. The scheme of a poem for each Sunday in the ecclesiastical year, and for the chief Fasts and Festivals, was not, however, the invention of Keble, though he has made it his own, and indissolubly associated it with his name. The method is familiar to all who are acquainted with Anglican devotional literatm-e. The hymns of Bishop Jeremy Taylor appended to his Golden Grove, of Dr. Donne and Bishop Ken, Greorge Herbert and Henry Vaughan — 262 TV. MO RLE Y PUNSHON. [chap. X. to say nothing of the hymns for the Christian seasons to be found in the Roman Breviary and among Lutheran hymn-writers — all point to the method adopted by Kehle, and used by him with such enduring results. There was no trespass therefore upon the author of the Christian Year in arranging a series of religious poems on a similar plan ; but considering how Keble's volume held the field, it was inevitable that any book of similar scope and structure would come into comparison with it, and in this comparison, it may be said at once, he could not but suffer. There is little need to enlarge upon the qualities of one of the most notable and influential books of the century. For the number of its editions, and the extent of its circulation, for its direct and remoter influence upon religious life, Keble's Christian Year belongs to the class of 'volumes paramount ' to which the Imitatio Christi and the Pilgrim's Progress belong. As in the case of a Kempis and of Bunyan the master-work has, for most persons, effaced the author's other labours, and remains his one monu- ment, cBre perennins ; so in Keble's case, the other aspects of his life will more and more drop out of memory, and he will go down to posterity as tlie author of the Christian Year. A student of Church history here and there will set himself to trace his connection with the ' Oxford Movement,' but thousands will know him only as the author of their morning and evening hymn, and of tlie religious meditations by which their souls are soothed and purified. Apart from its doctrinal characteristics, 1867.] "SABBATH CHIMES r 263 books like the Gliristian Year are few and far between, the rare product of spiritual and intel- lectual forces whose law of working cannot be calculated. Generations may pass without a single addition to this class of potent books. It was not given to Mr. Punshon to add to their number. His Sahhath Chimes was not unworthy of him ; it did not injure the reputation which he had secured by labours of another kind ; it gave pleasure, and ministered to the devotion of many ; it contains many a strong, and many a soothing stanza ; it is free from the morbid, the sickly, the superstitious ; its doctrine is scriptural, its spirit reverent towards God, sympathetic towards man ; it contributed a strain or two to the permanent enrichment of spiritual song ; but, if it be asked, twenty years after its publication, whether the writer derives reputation from his book, or the book from its writer, there can be no doubt as to the answer that must be given. In other words, Mr. Punshon was, first and last, a preacher, and his achievements in other directions, including that of poetry, remain unmistakably sub- ordinate. With very few exceptions, the pieces included in this volume are religious meditations, not hymns. The observation of the late Principal Shairp upon this characteristic of The Christian Year, is equally applicable to Sahbatli Chimes. " It cannot be too clearly kept in view that Keble is not a hymn-writer, and that The Christian Year is not a collection of hymns. Those who have come to it expecting to find genuine hymns will turn away in dis- appointment. They will seek in vain for anything of the directness, the fervour, the strong simplicity which has delighted them in Charles Wesley. But to demand this is to mistake the nature and form of 264 TV. MO RLE Y PUNSHON. [chap. x. Keble's poems. There is all the diiference between them and Charles Wesley's, that there is between meditation on the one hand, and prayer, or thanksgiving, or praise on the other. Indeed, so little did Keble's genius fit him for hymn writing, that in his two poems which are intended to be hymns — those for the morning and the evening — the opening in either case is a description of natural facts, wholly unsuited for hymn purposes. And so when these two poems are adopted into hymn col- lections, as they often are, a mere selection of certain stanzas from each is all that is found possible." There is a very close parallel between the character and history of the morning and evening hymns of Keble and Punshon. The morning hymn as it stands in the Tlie Christian Year consists of sixteen stanzas ; as abridged in Hymns Ancient and Modern^ it has but five. The evening hymn, in The Christian Year fourteen stanzas in length, is reduced to six in the same hymn book. Similarly, the hymn for morn- ing, twelve stanzas long in Sabbath Chimes, is re- duced to five in the Wesleyan Hymn Book, and the hymn for evening, from twelve to six. In the poems alike of the Anglican and of the Methodist are '* descriptions of natural facts," beautiful in them- selves, and steeped in an atmosphere of devout medi- tation, but foreign to the spirit and method of a true hymn. For the reader these two portions are an essential and indispensable part of the whole, but they are not suited for the service of the sanctuary. Lovers of Keble, The Christian Year in hand, will still repeat at sunset the lines : " 'Tis gone, that bright and orbed blaze, Fast fading from our wistful g-aze ; Yon manthng cloud has hid from sight The last faint pulse of quivering light.'' But in the congregation this and the succeeding verse are passed over, and the evening hymn begins. 186;.] 'SABBATH chimes: 265 " Sun of my soul ! Thou Saviour dear, It is not night if Thou be near : Oh ! may no earth-born cloud arise To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes." So, in households where the 8ahbath Chimes are prized, the quiet worshipper communing at eventide with God and his own heart, will read, " Another Sabbath sun is down, Grey twilight creeps o'er thorpe and town, How much of sorrow, unconfessed. Lies hidden in yon darkening west ! "What burdens, uncomplaining borne, What masks o'er latent anguish worn, What pangs of heart-break, plots of sin, Have this night's shadows folded in ! " But no Sunday evening passes in town or country, in England and the larger England where our language runs, but the public worship of the day closes with the verses in which meditation is quickened into prayer and praise, and solitary communings are merged in common supplications and thanksgivings : " Whate'er has risen from heart sincere, Each upward glance of filial fear, Each true resolve, each solemn vow, Jesus our Lord ! accept them now. " Whate'er beneath Thy searching eyes, Has wrought to spoil our sacrifice. Mid this sweet stillness while we bow, Jesus our Lord ! forgive us now. " And teach us erring souls to win, And hide their multitude of sin ; To tread in Christ's long-suffering way, And grow more like Him day by day. " So as our Sabbaths hasten past. And rounding years bring nigh the last ; When sinks the sun behind the hill. When all the weary wheels stand still ; 266 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. x. " When by our bed the loved ones weep, And death-dews o'er the forehead creep, And vain is help or hope from men ; Jesus our Lord ! receive us then.'' As a religious poet Punshou had this in common ■with Keble, that he accepted without reserve or qualification the Christian view of human life. Neither of thein was at any time a doubter. No traces of conflict, or of stormy and perilous stages of thought, can be discerned in their verse. The firm foundation of a definite creed is in each case unmistakable. And whatever may be said for " honest doubt " as a source of poetic inspiration, hearty faith is at once more fruitful and more potent. And as the author of Tlie Christian Year and the author of SabbatJi CJmnes held with equal firmness the great doctrines of the common faith, so each accepted heartily the system of the Church he loved. Here Keble had, as a poet, the advantage. The Church of Keble, whatever may be urged against it, was at least " Meet nurse for a poetic child." Its venerable antiquity and liistoric associations wrought powerfully upon him. Its literary traditions were of a kind to call forth and give encouragement to his genius. Herbert, nnd Vaughan, and Bishop Ken smiled upon him : Hooker, and Taylor, and Wilson nodded approval. The devotion of centuries had moved through that round of sacred seasons of which he became to a new generation tlie poet and the interpreter. Those who were famihar witli tlio English Prayer Book were, so to speak, a constitu- 1867.1 "SABBATH chimes: 267 eiK'.y prepared for The Christian Year, where the spirit of the Prayer Book is precisely caught, and well nigh perfectly expressed. In the case of Pimshon and his volume there was little or nothing answering to this. There was no tradition for him to take up and enrich. He had no predecessors by whose labour a certain strain of meditative devotion had been made familiar and dear to the people. The one form in which Methodism has possessed high poetic inspiration is that of the hymn, and the one name of commanding reputation belonging to it is that of Charles Wesley. As a hymn-writer Charles Wesley was unrivalled in his own age, and hardly surpassed in any ; but as soon as he went outside that special province he sank to the level of his day, the day when English poetry touched its low-water mark. The literary traditions of Methodism were not therefore a help, a stimulus, an inspiration to Mr. Puuslion, as were those of the Anglican Church to Keble. In his attempt to associate the Sundays of the ecclesiastical year with meditations in verse, he had no support in the usage of Methodists at large. Among them there are undoubtedly many to whom the dignity, the tenderness, the poetic charm of liturgies, and of ancient memorials and observances, powerfully appeal ; but, speaking generally, these things have been altogether subordinated to the maintenance of evangelical doctrine and Church principles. Without running all the lengths of Puritanism in its disregard of "times and seasons," the devotional life of Methodists has detached itself from the old ecclesiastical order. The few great 268 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. X. festivals are remembered, bnt the calendar as a whole is civil not churchly, or where it is the latter, its epochs and successions are modern and denomina- tional. In shaping his work, then, as a Christian poet on the general model adopted by Keble, and by him invested with fresh authority, Mr. Punshon was to some extent seeking to combine the characteristics of two distinct systems, — to cast the free, experimental religious life of Methodism into the mould of Angli- canism, or at least into the form that Anglican piety had for the most part preferred. Not that his book goes in obvious bonds to the order of the Church's year. The Sundays after Easter, and after Trinity, are not so named in detail, though their numbers are observed ; the theme of the poem is not of necessity chosen from the lesson, gospel, or epistle for the day — a rule which at times pressed heavily upon Keble himself — so that the ecclesiastical calendar does not too prominently rule the procession, though it furnishes the fixed points by which the proportions of the whole are governed. There is, of course, no reason why a writer should not employ the method of any school towards which for any reason he feels himself drawn. The Anglican is at liberty to write another Pilgrivi's Progress — if he can, and the Nonconformist to produce a second Christian Year, on the same condition ; and yet, perhaps, neither of these things is likely, not more from the want of genius, than from the lack of inner sympathy and accord. Perhaps, after all, none but a Churchman born and bred can write a devout and pleasing poem for, say — " the Sunday called Septua- 186;.] "SABBATH chimes: 269 gesima." Or, if that be saying too much, none but a Churchman will have the ear, and reach the heart of persons who greatly observe Septuagesima and and Sexagesima. If Mr. Punshon's volume has not secured the permanent position which his friends expected, the foregoing considerations will furnish at least a part of the explanation. On its appearance it was heartily welcomed. Personal friends recog- nised characteristic modes of thought and feeling. Those who knew him only as a preacher found him a preacher still, setting forth in verse the gospel to which they had often listened, the aspects of the Christian's life and calling with which he had made them so familiar. If in the pulpit his sermons were poems, as was often said, his poems are not seldom sermons, rising from the preacher's heart though shaped by the poet's hand. Again and again the moral of the sermon is enforced in verse. For example, the courage that is " not ashamed of Christ," a continually recurring theme in his ministry, is described and commended as follows : — " There is a courage braver far Than charges in the ranks of war, Or leaps to hear the cannon's boom, Or speeds, with patriot pride, to doom. A hardy frame of well-knit nerves The soldier's purpose amply serves, And speeds the thinning phalanx on. When banners trail, and hope is gone. " But warriors oft have backward turned When folly laughed, or passion burned ; Scared from the right by witUng's blame, Have let small sneers their manhood shame. 270 IV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. X. So on Gilboa's rainless field, The monarch ' casts away his shield.' So Samson, when his lusts invite. Turns craven in the moral fight. " Let God inspire ! — then weak are strong, And cowards chant the battle-song ; He, whose approach the darkness hides, Stands fast when all the world derides ; 'Mid fiercest fires the generous youth Is vahant for the living truth ; And, martyred for the Saviour's sake. Heroic woman clasps the stake. " We thank Thee, Lord ! — when Thou hast need The man aye ripens for the deed ; And Thou canst make the timid bold To shed his fears — as dross from gold — And, nerved from Heaven, nor droop nor quail. Though worlds confront, and hell assail. Oh breathe, in tliis and every hour, On each — on me — this soul of power ! " This may be said to be the expansion of a passage in his Dcmiel, which, again, has its parallels in many a sermon, so constantly did he return to the central themes, doctrinal and ethical, of his ministry. There is another passage in the same lecture, beginning, " There are no trifles in the moral universe of God," that may be compared with the following lines : — " There are no triHes. Arks as frail As bore God's prince of old. On many a buoyant Nile stream sail The age's heirs to hold. From Jacob's love on Joseph shed. Came Egypt's wealth and Israel's bread ; From Ruth's ciiance gleaning in the corn, The Psalmist sang; — tlie Christ was born. .86;.] ' SA BBA TII CHIMES. 2Jl " Each spirit weaves the robe it wears From out life's busy loom, And common tasks and daily cares Make up the threads of doom. VVould'st thou the veiled future read ? The harvest answereth to the seed. Shall heaven e'er crown the victor's brow ? — • Ask tidings of the battle now." The sympathy of Christ, a theme very dear to Mr. Punshon, and one on which he frequently en- larged with deep and tender feeling, is the subject of Poem XV., " For in that He Plimself hath suffered being tempted, He is able to succour them that are tempted " :— " Our hearts, forlorn and troubled, need A tender priest and true. Mighty with God to intercede, But kind and human too ; And Christ, in this His desert-hour reveals The arm of conquering strength, the heart which warmly feels. " Vainly he tells of wound or scar Who ne'er took sword in hand. Idly he speaks of ocean's war Who sees it from the strand. The ' visage marred ' begets the sense of pain, Our own tears give the power all other tears to explain. " So, Jesus, in this school of .scorn. Though Thou wert Son Divine, The whispered sin, the troubling thorn. The thought of shame were Thine. ' Tempted in all points. ' Be Thy name adored For this true humanness, — our Brother, Saviour, Lord ! " The foregoing quotations will suffice to indicate the character of Mr. Punshon's verse. A more detailed criticism would call attention to merits both of thought and of expression that are here 272 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. X. passed over. It would also be compelled to notice certain defects — obscure or ambiguous phrases, words of doubtful legitimacy, and the excessive use of compound terms. But enough has been said. The final impression left by a re-perusal of ^ahhath Chimes is that of strongly -held religious belief, of earnest convictions and warm sympathies working in a mind touched and quickened by poetic sensi- bility, and of one accustomed to use language for the purposes of Christian oratory, employing it with varying success under new and more exacting con- ditions. Looking at Mr. Punshon's life-work as a whole, it may be said of him, as John Wesley wrote of his brother Charles, " His least praise was his talent for poetry." One of the writer's hopes in connection with the publication of Sabbath Chimes was immediately and abundantly realised. Through the wide circle of his personal friends it was received with liveliest pleasure, and called forth many a warm acknowledg- ment. Few men have leaned more upon their friends than he, not for help but for happiness, finding in their affection solace and delight second only to those wliich spring from faith in God. His volume of verse, to whomsoever else it might find its way, was an offering to his friends, an offering straight from his heart, and one that undoubtedly went straight to theirs. Letters of thanks poured in from every side, and the pleasure that these gave him surpassed, as at all times of his life, that which he received from favourable notices in the press. It was characteristic, not of an author's vanity, but of his passion for friendship, that these 1867 ] LETTERS FROM FRIENDS. 273 letters were carefully preserved. A few extracts from them will be read with interest : — From the Rev. Thomas Jackson. " I thank you for the copy of your Chimes which you have had the kindness to send nae, and which I have read. Some of the metres perplex me. They are, I believe, in accordance with modern practice ; but my old ears have been mostly attuned by the men of former generations, such as Dryden, Pope, Prior, and Cow per. With the modern artists I am not much acquainted, my prosaic mind being mostly familiar Avith the com- positions of dry theologues, who either had no imaginations, or never used them. Yet I like your sentiments ; and several of your Chimes, especially towards the close of the volume, really did my heart good. They brought tears into my eyes, especially those which relate to the death of Christ as a sacrifice for sin. " May I suggest that you should take care of your health ? I believe the Master has a great work for you yet to do." It should be mentioned that Mr. Jackson was then in his eighty- third year. From the Rev. G. T. Pekks. "I greatly admire the sound discrimination with which you have shunned High Churchism on the one hand, and no Churchismon the other. No Christian, unless stereotyped in a stiff and narrow sectarianism, can read your Chimes without being quickened in intellect, and strengthened in soul." From Mrs. Oxenbould, Birmingham. "By the bedside of my suffering sister I have read and re-read the poems, only to return to them with fresh interest, and thus, in my case at least, one of your aims, that of 'comforting the troubled,' has been achieved. I have scarcely as yet thought out their comparative merits, but find myself most frequently recurring to 'Faith,' 'Hope,' 'Love,' 'Trinity,' 'The Lord's Supper,' the sixth, fifteenth, and thirty-third; while single verses such as ' And as sometimes when words would fail,' and ' E'en as for rain the cedars pant,' or, again, ' More grateful in the desert lone,' fix themselves on the memory, to become a daily source of refreshment." 18 274 W. MORLEY PUNS HON. [chap. X. From the Rev. Nevison Loraine. "Your most welcome volume has just reached me, and I hasten to acknowledge before even I have had time to read it ; but already, let me assure you, that one of the 'three successes' which you covet for your volume, it has achieved. It has come laden with a fresh and fragrant ' memory of the writer ' to an old, a widely separated, but an unestranged friend. And many a time and oft hereafter your Sabbath Chimes will float on a ' Wind of memory murmuring the past.' '' As the year 1867 advanced Mr. Puushon's health steadily improved. The comparative rest had re- stored his nervous system. He was still a strong man, and if his strength were but moderately liusbanded there was little reason to fear its early exhaustion. He began to resume public work, though not upon the former scale. After an interval of nearly two years he was induced to deliver a lecture in a village in the Midlands, and finding himself no worse for the effort, lectured during the spring and early summer at Plymouth, Wellington, Kidderminster, Burslem, Cardiff, Dublin, and Belfast. At the missionary meeting held in Exeter Hall on the 29th of April, he received what might fanly be called the welcome of the entire Connexion upon his reappearance in a sphere peculiarly his own. To quote the language of The Watchman, " The plat- form seemed itself again as William Morley Punshon rose to speak." In June he went to Ireland and attended the Con- ference which met in Belfast, under the presidency of the liev. William Arthur. On the 25th of July the British Conference began in Bristol, and Mr. Punshon's term of service in tlie Clifton Circuit was practically at an end, 1867-] CONFERENCE OF 1867. 275 For two reasons the Conference of 1867 is memor- able in liis liistory. It saw the self-imposed task whose labom'S and anxieties he had borne for five years, bronght to a successful close ; and it marked the termination of the first and longest of the three stages into which his ministry was to be divided. Before another Conference came round he had crossed the Atlantic, and found a home and sphere of work in Canada. There he was to spend five years of mingled happiness and sorrow, in labours that stretched, literally, from ocean to ocean, from Nova Scotia to Vancouver Island. The five years spent in Canada were to be suc- ceeded by a second ministry in England, the last of the well-marked periods of his life-work, eight years of honours and ripe renown, of multiplying cares and decreasing strength, of bodily sufi'ering and spiritual discipline, until, broken and spent by mani- fold labours pressed into years too few, he should finish his course. But all these things were yet hidden with G-od. Neither light nor shadow from the future fell upon his path. The morrow must take thought for the things of itself. It has been seen that the undertaking to raise i610,000 in five years for the " Watering- Places Chapel Fund" had been, from various causes, a heavier one than he anticipated. That for nearly two years he had been obliged to desist from lecturing, was in itself a hindrance to his operations of the most serious kind. There were times when the sense of responsibility weighed heavily upon him, and it seemed as though he must seek relief in some modi- fication of his original plan. No one was disposed 276 W. MO RLE Y PUNSHON. [chap. x. to hold him severely to his offer, and had he stated his inability to caiTy it out, the utmost considera- tion would have been shown him. But what public opinion would have wilhngly sanctioned, he himself could not permit. Nothing less than his first pro- posal in its full dimensions would satisfy him, and, in spite of all difficulties, he was able to announce to the Conference the completion of the scheme. The sum raised by lectures, sermons, and donations secured by personal application, was .£10,117. In addition to this, interest had accrued to the amount of £580, making a total of £10,697. What it cost him to secure this great result has been partly seen. What he accomphshed thereby for the strengthening and development of Methodism will in some measure be understood from the following facts : — The sum of £8,870 was granted towards the erection of twenty- four new chapels, at an estimated cost, in many cases exceeded, of £54,665, to provide sittings for 10,920 persons. Towards the alteration and enlargement of six chapels, at a cost of £3,700, a sum of £845 was granted ; and a further sum of £555 was given to assist in the liquidation of debt upon five other chapels to the total amount of £4,361. By this fund, therefore, the erection of twenty-four new chapels in watering-places was secured, and eleven others were benefited by alterations, enlarge- ments, and the removal of debt. Nearly eleven thousand sittings were added to the chapel accommo- dation of Methodism ; while the £10,000 raised by Mr. Punshon were the means of calling forth from local efforts no less a sum than £62,727. What these figures imply will be best understood by those who are 186;.] COMPLETION OF HIS FUND. 277 accustomed to deal with church-extension schemes. It remains only to give a list of the places where new chapels were erected, in order to show how widely the benefits of this fund were distributed. These are, Eastbourne, Folkestone, Walmer and Deal, Brighton, Lanciug, Bournemouth, and Weymouth ; Ilfracombe, Helstone. Niton, Sandown, and Bin- stead ; Matlock Bath and Malvern ; Keswick, Salt- burn, Bridlington Quay, and Lytham ; Rhyl, Llandudno, and Aberystwith ; Gorleston near Yarmouth, and Bray in Ireland. Enlargements were made at Torquay, Tenby, Bognor, Builth, Ramsgate, and Weston-super-Mare ; and debts paid off at Dawlish, Bowness, Ambleside, Ventnor, Fresh- water, Filey, and Blackpool. The Committee of the fund, in the report which was presented to the Conference, speaks as follows : — " It is with 110 ordinary feeling of respectful admiration and gi-atitude that the Committee bears testimony to the cheerful, sustained, and continuous efforts of Mr. Punshon to secm-e the end contemplated. Originally projected by him, the ' Watering-Places Chapel Fund ' has been raised solely by his exertions ; the Committee has acted merely as the executive in dispensing the means placed in its hands. Amid ' labours more abundant,' and recently in a state of health which might well have demanded an entire relaxation from such toil, our beloved brother has executed his self-imposed task. Within the period proposed, the magnificent sum of £10,000 has been placed upon the altar, for the special purpose of rearing suitable houses of prayer in the beautiful watei'ing-places of our land. The success which has crowned this work will appear more signal when it is remembered that the last four years have been marked, on the one hand, by national financial difficulties of an extraordinary character ; and, on the other hand, by special and enlarged contributions towards commercial and other objects on the part of the Methodist public. The cotton famine and the commercial panic have been contemporaneous with the establishment of the ' Wesleyan Missionary Jubilee Fund,' and the ' Metropolitan Chapel Fund.' These Church schemes have been most munificently supported by om- people ; yet, during this peculiar trial and unusual effort, and with so much to depress 278 fr. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. x. the energies and divide the attention of all, the ' Watering-Places Chapel Fund ' has been raised and conducted to the issue which we now report. By this nobly sustained and successful effort IVIr. Punshon has laid the Connexion under lasting obligations ; to him the Committee tenders its warmest thanks, and earnestly prays that he may long be spared to occupy that position of honoin- and usefulness which he has so well earned by his eminent abilities and unwearied devotion to the cause of Christ." Upon the presentation of this report, it was moved by Mr. Arthur, and seconded by Mr. Scott, that the thanks of the Conference should be given to Mr. Punshon. This was carried with enthusiasm, and he was left grateful and happy at the successful issue of long and anxious toil. By one other quality which should be referred to, the value of Mr. Punshon's labours was greatly en- hanced. He followed with close and kindly interest the cases dealt with by his fund. His personal attention was given to local details, to the great advantage of those concerned. This was particu- larly the case with regard to North Wales, where his friend the Rev. Frederick Payne was devisiog large things in respect to the rapidly increasing water- ing-places on that coast. Year after year, often accompanied by Mr. Gervase Smith, he visited the neighbourhood, and threw himself with characteristic energy into Mr. Payne's ever-expanding operations. At lihyl and Llandudno, at Conway, Prestatyn, and Llanrwst he rendered service on many occasions and in various ways. The Conference of 1867, however, was marked by a far more important event in Mr. Punshon's history than the completion of the scheme that has been described. For reasons whicli, to liis own mind, had become conclusive, he determined, sliould the 1867.] iMVlfAtlON TO CANADA. 2?9 consent of the Conference be given, to accept an invitation that had reached him from Canada. The Conference of the Wesleyan Methodist Church in Canada, in its address to the British Conference, after describing its fields of labour, and plans of operation, made the following request : — " We believe that we should be much assisted in these great purposes by the example, sjTiipathies, and labours of one of the most approved members of your own body ; and we therefore venture to suggest and solicit your appointment of the Rev. William Morley Punshon as our next President, with the request that he may be permitted to travel through our Con- nexion the current year ; believing as we do, that his counsels and ministrations will, under the Divine blessing, greatly edify us and our people, immensely benefit our entire Church and country, and cojjtribute largely to consolidate into one mighty community, Methodism throughout British North America." It was felt that compliance with this request in- volved some important considerations. A strong Committee was appointed, consisting of all the ex- Presidents and eight other influential ministers, to consider the matter in all its bearings, and report to the Conference. It was now generally known that Mr. Punshon was contemplating a step that would profoundly affect his personal and domestic life. It was not unlikely that it might lead to his making his permanent home in Canada, and there were differences of opinion as to the extent to which the Conference would be incurring responsibility, and giving its sanction beforehand to what some, at least, of its members could not approve. The question which was complicating the other- wise simple matter of Mr. Punshon's temporary trans- fer to Canada will be best stated in his own words But meanwhile, the Committee, after looking at the whole matter, recommended the Conference to 2§0 tV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. x. accede to the request from Canada, and make the desired appointment. The report of the Committee was laid before the Conference by Dr. Osborn in a speech of great weight. " He reminded the Conference that for several years past he had advocated, in the strongest manner of which he was capable, the advis- ableness of maintaining, by frequent deputations, their friendly relations with aihliated Conferences. Just in proportion as their official control over them was diminished, it was of the utmost importance that their moral influence should be extended and increased ; and that could be most effectually done by asking brethren to visit them from year to year, to inquire after their welfare, to see how they did, and to give them such encouragement and information as only deputations of living men could do, and letters, however well they might be written, could not supply. " While their extension in Great Britain was limited in its area, the area in the colonies might be almost said to be unlimited ; and many hindrances to their work which existed within the four seas, did not exist in the vast colonial empire of Great Britain. They had in the North Amei-ican colonies, in their present circumstances, a wide and most important field for the extension of their influence. The recent political arrangements by wliich the two provinces of Canada and Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward's Island were consolidated under the title of ' The Dominion of Canada,' opened a new door for usefulness in that dii-ection. Not only would the power of Great Britain be con- solidated, and a more efl^ective system of government be introduced, but the moral influence of Great Britain would, they hoped, by those means be greatly extended, and opportunities furnished for the spread and progress of Methodism, a matter of far more importance than many persons in this country conceived. They had already in the new Dominion a position of considerable imi)ortaiicc, and, if it pleased God to bless their woi k there, that position would grow every year. He knew no better way of helping than by endeavouring to strengthen Methodism, to give it additional impetus, and, if he might say it, additional prestige, by the appointment of deputations to visit those provinces, and to lielp the Methodist work in that country. Those were the public and general grounds on which he was prepared individually to recommend to the Conference, and on which, he was thankful to s;iy the Con\niittce was prepared to recommend to the Confei-ence, that the appointment which the Canada Conference requested, should be made by the present Conference. He tlierefore proposed : — " ' That it is highly desirable on pul)lic grounds that the request of 1867O PRIVATE AND PERSONAL MATTERS. 281 the Canada Conference should be complied with, and that the Conferenoe be recommended to appoint Mr. Punshon to preside at the next Canadian Conference to be held at Kingston, in the month of June, 1868, and to visit various places in that Connexion in the ensuing year.' " The resolution was seconded by Mr. Arthur and carried by an almost unanimous vote. Mr. Punshon was further appointed Kepresentative of the British Conference to the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church in the United States, to be held at Chicago in the following May. The other element in the case was private and personal ; yet, as affecting a public man, it was impossible wholly to withdraw it from comment and discussion. Two entries in his journal, the one written some eight months before the Conference, and the other nearly a year and a half afterwards, will best explain his course, and the feelings by which he was actuated. Journal. " November 2ith, 186G. — Strange and grave perplexities have risen up around me, and I am longing to know my duty, and then to be strengthened at all hazards to do it. As far as I can see, my lot will not be cast much longer in this land, and I shall be called upon before long to make the sacrifice of position and influence at the bidding of duty and honour. Be it so. If the sword pierce the heart. Thou, O Lord canst heal the wound, otherwise mortal." The other entry is one whose significance will be recognised at once. It was written certainly for no immediate purpose beyond that which determines the keeping of a private journal at all ; but it is more than probable that the thought was present to his mind that at some future time it would be read, perhaps that it ought to be read, by other eyes than his own. That time has now come. Not with ruth- 282 less, but with kindly hand death unlocks the drawers of cabinets, and spreads before our eyes long hidden papers to which our friends have entrusted the inmost secrets of their hearts. Journal. December 2)cd, 18G8. Toronto, Canada. — I overcome my reluctance to set down my thoughts and feelings, a reluctance which has mastered me for many months, as this hiatus in my diary shows. The ' sti-ange and grave perplexities ' of which I spoke in a former entry deepened and com- plicated. My searchings of heart grew intenser, until, clear and full my duty rose before me, and I have been strengthened to do it. At the Con- ference of 1867 I was designated representative to the General Couference of the Methodist Episcopal Church in America, and President of the Canadian and Eastern British American Conferences. I had previously announced to the President, and to a large and influential Committee (compo.sed of all the ex-Presidents, the Revs. J. Bedford, President, E. Hoole, W. B. Boyce, L. H. Wiseman, Rigg, Vasey, S. R. Hall, G. Smith, C. Haydon, M'Owan, and J. H. James), that after much and prayerful consideration of the subject, I deemed it my duty to marry Fanny Yickers, who has for nine years been the mother to my children, the only mother, indeed, whom two have ever known. I detailed fully my motives and reasons to Mr. Arthur, in a letter which he comforted me by saying was ' worthy of me, and of the grace of God in me.' In the fulfilment of this duty I had to make great sacrifices, to consent to be misjudged, to gi ieve some whom I loved, to lay my account with a publicity given to my private affairs which is to me the heaviest cross of the kind that I could be called to bear, to lose a position which had become assured hy years of service, to trample upon love of country (with me a pa.ssion), to break up old friendships, to bear the imputation of motives which my soul scorns, and to bear it without answer, to found a home in a new world, and above all, to imi)eril my usefulness. Yet my convictions of duty have never wavered. I was married to dear Fanny on the 15th August by the Rev. Egerton Ryerson, D.D., Dr. An.son Green and Dr. Lachlin Taylor being my sureties. I am happy in my wife's love, and in my own strong assur- ance that I have done right. The Lord my God, Whose guidance I have invoked, has not suffered me to be haunted by the shadow of a misgiving on this point. 1 cannot see tlie future. I am liviii'.; fiom day to day. If I can wait, cahnly wait, my righteousness shall be brought out as the liylit, and my judgment as the noondaj'. My convictions that the law forbidding marriage with the .sister of a deceased wife is iniquitous and opprossive, have been of many years standing. I examined into and settled 186;.] DEsriMY DECIDED. the matter with myself before I had thought that I should ever be per- sonallj- involved in its application. Hence, when the duty rose up before me, and it seemed that a way was open to discharge it without entailing embarrassment on the British Conference, I was strengthened to do my duty. I claim no credit for it. I am not ambitious to be either a hero or a miirtyr, but it has been cause of gratitude to me, who know my own heart, and its foolish hankering after everybody's good opinion, that I was not faithless nor craven in this hour of bitter trial, leading, however, in God's providence, to domestic happiness and the rest and comfort of home." Sucli were the terms in which he subsequently referred to the proceedings of the Conference and their relation to his personal history. The only record in his diary at the time is as follows Augud 1st, 1807. — My destiny decided. Designated President of Canada Conference, and Representative to America." A few weeks later he closed his ministry at Clifton. He preached in the morning at Eedland, and in the evening at Victoria Chapel, to overwhelming congre- gations. All Bristol was represented ; it seemed as though all Bristol would have been present had there been room. As it was not his intention to go to Canada till the following April, he had now, and it might be for the last time, several months at his own disposal. A part of the time he devoted to rest in Wales and travel on the Continent, and the remainder to a series of farewell visits to friends, and to preaching and lecturing in various parts of the country. It was necessary, however, to provide a temporary home, and this he found in Milner Square, Islington. He was by this time an accomplished continental traveller. His knowledge of routes by rail, steam- boat, and diligence, of hotels, currency, passports, and the like, was both extensive and minute. He 284 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. X. was equally good as a guide over a mountain pass and in a picture gallery. He was experienced, but not hlasc,^ enjoying still more deeply on acquaintance what had delighted him at first. The journal of travel which commemorates this latest tour is as ample and as enthusiastic as the earlier ones. It is a hundred quarto pages in length, written in his usual swift, legible hand, and illustrated with no less than eighty- three photographs. Keen enjoyment of life, strong interest in men and things, and unfailing delight in the beauties of nature and art, are evident in every page. Room must be found for an extract or two. " September 2:)th, 18G7. — How wonderfully, even in trifles, history repeats itself. The 'autocrat of the breakfast table' notices the consciousness which sometimes flashes across a man that he has been aforetime in pre- cisely the same circumstances as those which were around him at the moment. It was exactly on this day two years ago that I started, then also from 47, City Road, London, for the Continent, in company witli the same loved friend. Then, as now, the Chief Commissioners of Highways, or Sewers, or Gas, or Paving, were at work on subterranean improvements, ' mending their ways,' on the 2r)th September, 1865 : and on the 25th Sep- tember, 1807, I found and left them at the same labour. " Septeni her 'lOlh. — We made our way to the Exposition. It disjippointed me agreeably. The art treasures are comparatively poor ; the best have been familiar to us for years ; but the glass, porcelain, and repousse work were exquisite. We visited the Bible stand, the missionary museum, and the stand for the distribution of Hebrew Scriptures to the Jews. Nearly two million portions of the Divine Word have been dispcr.sod in seventeen languages to ])eoplo who have been for the most part eager to receive them. . . . As the gong sounded for departure, the scene was indescribably animating. The crowds poured forth, with every variety of countenance, costume, and conversation, as if Babel had been let loose suddenly. My heart wished that the Babel might speedily find a Pentecost to reverse its doom." After a few days in Switzerland, they crossed the Simplon, and made their way leisurely and happily to Venice, and thence to Inuspruck, Munich, Vienna, 186;.] AT WITTENBERG. 285 and Prague. On the return journey they visited Wittenberg. " We first made our way to the market-place, where are the newly- erected statues of Luther and Melanchthon. Luther stands with an open Bible in his hand. On the pedestal are four inscriptions : one stating that the ground for the monument was given by the Count of Mansfeld, and that the monument itself was erected by Frederick William III. ; a second with the inscription, ' Believe in the Gospel ; ' a third, ' If it be God's work ye cannot overthrow it ; ' and a fourth, ' Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott.' The statue of Melanchthon is likewise inscribed on the four sides of the pedestal. On the first, ' I will speak of Thy testimonies also before kings, and will not be ashamed ; ' on the second, ' Endeavouring to keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace ; ' on the third, an extract from his writings, ' When we have brought our souls to the fountain of Christ, we have begun to be wise ; ' and on the fourth the announcement that the foundation stone was laid by the present King of Prussia so lately as the year 18(50. " It was market-day, and we had an opportunity I should have been sorry to miss, of seeing Saxon peasantry at home. We have seen strange costumes and customs since we left England, but we have seen nothing like the spectacle in this Wittenberg market-place. It was full of stalls, mostly kept by women who had come in long narrow carts, a dozen to- gether. Here might be seen an old dame, sturdy and stalwart they are for the most part, with a sort of woollen stocking for a head-dress, and with clogs which baffle all description. Yonder you may see an equally well-set man in a coat of pig-skin, coarsely, but plentifully ornamented with a rough sort of frieze or fur. All kinds of drapery were exposed for sale, and the strife of the rival dealers to get rid of their wares was most animating. As we walked down the long street we came upon a very popular exliibition, round which a large crowd was gathered. There was stretched out, about fifteen feet in length, a series of barbarous pictures. They represented scenes of love, jealousy, and murder. In every tableau the end was blood, and it was plentifully spread over the canvass. On a small tray in front of the proprietor was his stock-in-trade, the affecting liistories which the pictures but faintly illustrated. He di'ove a thi-iving trade, turning a dismal barrel-organ while turning a penny, while his Frau accompanied him in a voice like the croak of a raven. I observed in the market-place a singular meeting between man and maid. The man had evidently a tenderness for the damsel. They conversed with much animation for several moments, and then the climax came. He stretched forth his brawny arm, and unostentatiously, but efPectually — loiped her nose ! ! " At the end of the long street stands the Schloss Kirche, on the gates of 286 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. x. which were affixed the ninety-five tlieses of Luther, protesting against the sale of indulgences. The old gates have been removed, but in their place are fine bronze doors, put there by the King of Prussia, on which the tlicaex are engraven. I touched the door with my hand, and in my spirit evoked another Luther to stir into fresh life the effete and shrivelled thing which men call Protestantism now. We entered the church, and then, near the high altar, stood reverently on the dust of Luther and Melanchthon. " The next spot of interest was Melanchthon's house, with an inscription on the front, ' Here lived, taught, and died Philip Melanchthon.' We passed on from this until we reached the first building through the forti- fication, the old University, at the rear of which is Luther's house. You enter tlu-ough the portal. The house stands in the corner on the left. On one of the corbels of the door is his effigy ; on the other, his seal, a heart with a cross. Here is the very place where that large heart unbent in kindliest humanness from day to day, and where that great spirit went out in prayer, and was stirred to heroism. This second room was Luther's home . . . the rich panelled ceiling, the quaint windows, the elaborate stove, the strong oaken door, the table, the chairs where he and his Catherine sat vis-a-vis, his beer-glass — for he was no total-abstainer — his candlestick, the sampler which his wife's hands wi-ought, the psalter from which that rich voice sang its daily praises unto God. This is Luther's home. It is a hallowed spot, awing the soul as if some strong presence bore it down. There is also a cmious bas-rehef of Luther, with the inscription " ' Papa, pestis eram vivus, Moriens, ero mors tua.' " The word ' Papa' with strange significance, is printed upside down." This holiday lasted a month, and the Journal con- cludes thus : — " October 25ih. — At 6"30 a.m. we arrived at Charing Cross, and an hour later at City Road, having accomplished a journey of 30G4 miles, without let or hindrance. I write these words with a thankful heart, and pray that I may be wiser and better for this experience of travel.' The next few months were all too short for leave- taking in all parts of the country. It seemed as though every place where he had ever preached or lectured claimed a farewell vjsjt hefore his departure, 1867.] LETTER TO HIS DAUGHTER. 287 But amid all his public engagements, his heart dwelt much at home with his children. Letter to ms Daughter, ''December ?,r(l, 18G7. " I wish I could fully put into words all the breathings of my heart for my darling daughter this morning. As I get older, birthdays seem to me more solemn things than they used to do. They are not now occasions for mere festivity, though we should rejoice in the gift of life and its bless- ings, but times of sober thoughtfulness and prayer. It makes me feel very serious to tliink that you are '' sweet seventeen " to-day. '' I rejoice, my darling child, to know that your young heart has been given to Christ, and that you have learned to carry to Him your sins, and cares, and fears. To-day you should make the covenant afresh ; we need constantly to renew our vows unto the Lord. My prayer for you, and surely God our Father will hearken to a father's prayer, is that you may enter from tliis birthday upon a more earnest religious life, and be blessed with yet richer blessings from the God of your salvation. " Be determined, my darling, to master everything. If you meet with anything in your reading which you do not understand, do not slur it over, or pass it by, but make it your own. Do not get into the fatal habit of thinking that your education is finished. Properly speaking, it should only be beginning, and your school training should be but a preparation for the higher and permanent training of yourself at home. " I should advise you to do everything by system, and to do things which you do not like as well as those you do hke, so that you may be thoroughly furnished, and fit for any station in life which God's provi- dence may allot you in the years to come. " You Uttle know how much I love you, nor how often I bear you on my mind both by day and by night. " May God bless my child, and grant that each year as it rolls away may fit her more completely for a bright life here, and for the Father's house at last." Mr. Punshon's continental travels furnished him with the theme and the inspiration for another lecture. Of all the places he had visited, none fastened upon his imagination with more deep and enduring hold than the city of Florence. It combined for him almost everything in which he took delight, wealth of art treasures, venerable and beautiful build- 288 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. x. ings, historic associations of the most stirring kind, and memories of noblest men. He determined to pay his tribute to its intel- lectual and moral glories, and on the 2nd April, 1868, the last week of his stay in England, he took leave of Exeter Hall, the scene of his greatest efforts and successes for so many years, in a lecture on Florence and its Memories. The theme itself, its vivid and picturesque treatment, the delivery, ranging through the entire scale of the descriptive and the declamatory, the im- passioned and the pathetic, the vast audience, responsive as ever to each master-touch, — all were worthy of the occasion, the leave-taking of the foremost platform orator of the day, of one whose popularity rested alike upon the admiration and the afifection of the people. Two hours before the appointed time the approaches to the doors were crowded. Mr. Wm. M'Arthur, then Sherifif of London, his true and valued friend, presided. Three years had elapsed, years of broken health and much depression, since the production of his last lecture, that on Wilberforce ; but it was evident at once that there was no falling away, no sign of exhaustion in thought or feeling, in style or delivery. The history of Florence gave ample scope for his power of portrait painting. Cosmo and Lorenzo De Medici, Dante, Michael Augelo, and Savonarola, seemed to breathe and walk as he portrayed them. Two notes of feeling vibrated through the whole oration : hopeful sympathy with Young Italy, sharpened now and again into friendly chiding ; and suspicion and dislike of papal Home, and to each 1 868.] FLORENCE, AND ITS MEMORIES. 289 of these the response from his hearers was imraediate and enthusiastic. At the close of the lecture the audience sprang to their feet, and with waving of hats and handkerchiefs, and applause again and again renewed, testified their delight, and conveyed their good wishes for his future. He had fulfilled his last public engagement before sailing for America. One thing remained for his friends to do, and that was to give him some solid proof of their affection and esteem, and of the value they set upon the services he had rendered to Methodism, and the cause of religion generally. The rumour that a testimonial was in preparation had considerably disquieted him, and, indeed, called forth a letter from him in which, in a delicate manner, he said that he neither desired nor deserved anything of the kind. But, for once, his wishes were disregarded by his nearest fi'iends, and a small Committee was formed, under the chairmanship of Mr. M'Ai-thur, with Mr. Alexander M'Arthur and Mr. Eadmall as treasurers, to carry out the design on which many hearts were set. On Monday, April the 6th, he was entertained at breakfast by a large number of his friends. A valedictory address was afterwards read by Mr. Arthur : The reading of the address was followed by the presentation to Mr. Punshon of a salver, suitably inscribed, and a cheque for seven hundred guineas. In the course of his reply he said : — " When I first heard of this projected movement, my sensitiveness, or pride, or delicacy, whatever it be called, rose up in arms against it, and I feel as though the first thing I had to do to-day was to vindicate my own consistency. My feeling is unchanged. Although I would not willingly have dispensed with this meeting, so far as personal feeling is concerned, I 19 290 IV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. X. would have dispensed with the testimonial of which you invite my accep- tance. I feel, as I said in a letter which I ventured to publish, that I do not deserve it, and that I do not desire it. But there is a point beyond which resistance becomes ungrateful, and it would certainly not have been in my nature to trample upon the kindness of my friends, for there never was a period in my Uf e when I was more thoroughly avaricious of good wiU. " Some three and twenty years ago I first made the acquaintance of my esteemed friend Mr. Arthur. Before I entered the ministry myself, I was accustomed to look up to him as one in whose footsteps I should like to tread. He was then stirring the public mind of England by his fii'st addresses upon India, just after his return from the missionary field, and some portion of that holy fire which burnt sweetly and brightly, and with no eccentric flame, seemed to communicate itself from his addi'esses and from his pulpit ministrations to me. I rejoiced, moreover, in Mr. Arthur's example, because I thought that a certain ideal which I had long had before me, seemed to be realised, — the ideal of a minister of the truth who did not disdain the graces of style, and who could appreciate some- what even of exuberance in the imagination of others, but who at the same time took care in all his utterances to aim at the heart. I did not then imagine that there was any incongruity between the two things, and I do not imagine so now. I have never had any reason to change the opinion I then formed, that it was possible to present truth in the form most congenial to my own mind and imagination, and at the same time deal sternly with the conscience. I cannot — though I may seem to ' speak as a fool ' in saying so — I cannot remember the time when I did not try, at any rate, to deal with the conscience. I set it before me in the beginning of my ministry, and although that ministry has been marked by many im- perfections, which none feel more painfully than I do, I know that I have, by the grace of God, tried to save sinners. " When I bcaime a Methodist preacher I begjin where I should like all young men to begin now — in one of the worst Circuits of Jlethodism. I started from the lowest step of the ladder, and I am quite sure the disci- pline was an immense advantage to mc. . . . After the first ten years of my ministerial life, a wonderful fact was brought to my knowledge by my late dear friend, Edward Corderoy, who had a fancy for arithmetiail cjil- culations of that kind. It may be remembered that I was enabled, by God's blessing, to raise in six months, by lecturing, .some thousand pounds for the relief of Spitalficlds Chapel. Edward Corderoy, a.s some of you remember, wrote a series of letters on ministerial stipends. In the course of those letters he entered into some calculations, and wrote me a letter telling me that he shrewdly suspected I had been the instrument of gain- ing more for Methodism during those six months than Methodism had given me in ten years. It turned out, when I came to add up my income i868.] FAREWELL ADDRESS. 291 for the first ten years of my ministry, that it did not amount to anything like a thousand pounds. I may therefore quote my experience as a warn- ing against those who would enter the Methodist ministry for a morsel of bread. I do not know that T have been happier in the whole course of my ministerial life than in some of those first Circuits. I was learning all the time, and I greatly regret that I did not learn more. Anxious chiefly for the fulfilment of immediate duties, I did not lay the foundation I ought for the accuracy and self-control of the thorough student, and I have re- gretted it ever since. . . . " One lesson I learned very early, and, as most people learn lessons, by painful experience. I learned it by one of my own faults, and the rebuke which that fault received. For the last eighteen or twenty years I can say I have, by God's grace, made it a rule of conduct never to depreciate my brethren. ... I have endeavoured always to find out what there was of good in everybody. I have found it a wonderful help in gaining and in keeping the love of my brethren, and a real help, I think, to the cause of God, because I find that if I, as a minister of Clu'ist, uphold the reputa- tion of my brethren, other people are likely to do so too. . . . " I am supposed to be fairly liberal in some things, but I am intensely conservative in my love of England. I am conscious of a great wrench of feeling in thinking of residence in a distant land. ... I want the prayers of my friends to sustain me at every step. I am travelling under the guidance of God ; I go, therefore, without misgiving. I have committed my way to Him, and He will direct my steps. . . . " I thank God for the ministry and laity of the Church. I thank God for the godly men who are standing forth in connection with other Churches. I sympathise greatly with the Church of England in her present troubles, and I pray to God to bring her out of them. I sympathise greatly with the efforts which our nonconformist brethren are making : 1 do not look upon them in the spirit of jealousy — I never did. May God bless all our Churches, and always ! I do not know whether we shall meet on earth again. I trust we shall. But I want to walk in the way God would have me, and do just what He wills me to do. ' Serve with a single heart and eye And to His glory live and die.' " Thus did his friends send him forth, encompassed with their love and followed by their prayers, as with calm and steadfast mind he faced the unknown future, and went to find a vocation and a home beyond the sea. CHAPTER XI. 1868. CANADA. AgedU. Voyage to New York. — Church Building in America. — First Impres- sions of Canada. — General Conference of Methodist Episcopal Church, Chicago. — Conference Excursion. — Camp Meetings. On April 14th, 1868, Mr. Punshon, accompanied by his eldest son, sailed from Liverpool for New York. The voyage is thus described in his letter to the Methodist Recorder of London : — " Our good ship, the Scotia, perhaps the finest mercantile vessel afloat, left Liverpool with a fair wind, and steamed rapidly down the channel, with one hundred and fifty-three passengers bound for the Western World. The sea was so ciilm and bright that many deluded themselves into forgetfulness that it was treacherous as an April sky. We made Queens- town harbour by 8 a.m. on the morning of Sunday, April 12th, and waited there until half -past three for the latest mails to come on board. ... I suppose there can be nothing more humbling than a voyage at sea. It is a marvellous mortifier of pride. The most pompous Don Sancho is not likely to stand upon his dignity when he cjin hardly stand upon his feet. I believe there arc those who are so abnorm:illy constituted as to feel a defiant pleasure in the wayward element, but I do not aspire to such lofty philosophy. I am content, as a rule, to admire the grandeur of the waves from the shore, and am not insensible to the force of that particular part of ' the rest tliat remaineth,' which is assured by the promise that ' there shall be no more sea.' . . . Still there is something gi-and even to awful- ness in the thought of utter helplessness which you feel at sea. Sky and water, with no living thing visible over the vast expanse ; for divys together, just your own vessel witli its human freight — and God ! To i868.] VOYAGE TO NEW YORK. thoughtful mind there is no surer teaching both of humility and of trust. " From the time we entered the Atlantic until close upon our arrival in New York, we had persistent head-winds, so that, if we would advance at all, we must make gallant way against them. Indeed, save only that we were mercifully preserved from peril, we had in our eleven day's voyage a compression of the experience of all possible voyages. I could not help thinking it set forth in similitude the history of many a Christian life. Calm at the start ; broken and troubled water when the Atlantic surges met us ; heavy gales, blowing furiously against our progi-ess ; a sea majestic in its wrath, now making the ship to shake with trembling, now drenching it with showers of spray ; the presence of three large icebergs, beautiful but dangerous neighbours ; a shroud of fog which wrapped the heavens from our sight for a day and a half, during which the dreary fog- horn gi'oaned out its dirge-like sound ; calmer water as we approached the land ; and then a brilliant sun, and a sea of exquisite beauty, as we sailed through the Narrows and anchored in a fair haven. " The passengers who are grouped together in temporary intercourse on the voyage, are always an interesting study. Ours were for the most part intelligent and gentlemanly, with much respect for the ordinances of religion. They were of several nations, and of many pursuits in life. A New York banker and a Boston editor sit side by side with Liverpool merchants and young English soldiers. Yonder is a Spanish count, bilious and gloomy — here an aged apostle of temperance, who has spent a fortune in the spread of information upon its principles, and who has just had an interview with the Emperor of the French, whom he hopes to convert by and by. There is the popular author of FrainJey Parsonage, yonder the 'stump orator' of a company of itinerant minstrels — -popular also, though on a lower level. Here is a lady with two children, on her way to join her husband in California, who will be six weary weeks before she reaches the end of her travel. We had also on board a cool specimen of an American trader, who was currently rumoured to have with him a lai'ge quantity of what would be purchased at Niagara, as genuine ' Table Rock,' but which was in reality Derbyshire spar, which he had been to England to buy. " It was a work of no small difficulty, and yet a privilege of no common order, to be permitted to preach on two Sabbaths in the ship's saloon. The motley gathering — the crew (all of them who could be spared from duty), dressed in their Sunday best, and grouped in the lower part of the saloon ; the passengers of different nations, habits, beliefs, modes of thought, but all reverently gathered for the acknowledgment of God, and all apparently sincere in their responses to the litany of prayer, and respect- ful in their listening to the Word of Life — made the services at once novel and impressive. Our captain read the Liturgy — an office which he never 294 • PV. MORLEY PUiSfSHON. [chap. XI delegates to another, and right well he read it too — with a sonorous voice and appropriate emphasis, to attain which many an authorised reader of the service on land might well sit at his feet — and I endeavoured afterwards to rouse my hearers and myself to Christian manliness and heroism. The ' bread ' thus ' cast upon the waters ' may haply be ' found after many days.' " A welcome awaited me before landing in New York ; the provident kindness of some friends in England had secured that I should be met on the steamer, and the passage of my luggage through the customs facilitated. For this I was very grateful, for the five or six hours' waiting before you can get fairly landed is irksome and oppressive. " In the evening I went with my host to St. Paul's Methodist Episcopal Church, a fine marble building, which will seat about twelve hundred persons. Tlie week-evening services, however, are not held in the church but in the lecture room. The lecture was brief — a pointed and well reasoned exhortation to fidelity, based upon the promise that ' a faithful man shall be blessed of the Lord.' After the lecture the loaders were allied forward, and a prayer meeting began. The minister kept only a nominal lead of the meeting, persons from the body of the room starting a lively verse as the inspiration seemed to prompt them ; but the prayers were thoughtful and fervent, and those who prayed had power with God. The prayer-meeting in turn resolved itself into a brief band-meeting, and within about a quarter of an hour five of the members, male and female, had spoken their experiences. It had the good, sound, Methodist ring about it, and I augured well for the Church whose inner life was thus healthy and abiding. Among those who spoke at the band-meeting w^as the wife of one of the Bishops of the Methodist Epi.scopal Church. Before the meeting broke up I was introduced to the Church, and made welcome to American soil, and all was done with a frank and hciirty brothcrhness which affected me not a little. " There Wiis to be on the following day the dedication of a new and elegant church in Williamsburg, a suburb of the city on the Brooklyn side, and the minister who was appointed to preach in the evening was taken suddenly ill, and as it seemed an emergency, I overcame my reluct- ance and opened my commission in America in the empire city. Bishop Janes introduced me kindly to the people, and I felt freedom and some measure of power in proclaiming the Word of Life. There wei-e several things which struck me as novelties. Immediately in front was a table for the reporters, to the right of the tribune a pedestal on which was a very beautiful bouquet of flowers. The church was lighted like the British House of Commons, and the rays streaming throug)i coloured glass fell with a softened lustre which Avas cheerful without being dazzling. The total cost of the church was jJ'.'OO.OdO, or about l'-JO,(H)0 My only regret about it is that live less expensive churches have not been 1 868.] CHURCH BUILDING IN AMERICA. 295 built instead of this costly one, although for the large accommodation of every kind which has been provided, the money is not ill-bestowed." To a man of strong sympathies, the customs and institutions of his native land become so dear that something of antipathy to foreign institutions and customs seems almost inevitable. What is of another land is to us Englishmen ridiculous, and we must borrow of another tongue the word foreign — a word free from the smack of contempt that clings to our native word outlandish. The best cure for this prejudice, natural to all men, but particularly strong in Englishmen, is travel — per- sonal observation and experience of other lands and peoples. This is a sure cure in the case of thought- ful, generous minds, where the vice in question is but a virtue gone to seed. Such a mind was Mr. Punshon's, and such was the immediate effect of travel on his mind. Evidences of changed convictions may from time to time be seen in him ; but his broadened sympathies did not narrow again, and become confined to the land of his adoption. Instances of such reaction are not wanting in America. Men have come from the Old World to the New with the most violent preju- dices against everything in the New, and in favour of everything in the Old. After a few years such ill-balanced heads are found completely turned, loving all that once they hated, and alas ! hating all that once they loved. However Mr. Puushon may have learnt to tolerate, and even to admire, some of the peculiarities of the New World, Old England never for one moment lost her hold on his loyalty and affection. 296 W. MO R LEY PUN'S HON. [chap. XI. The architecture of the Brooklyn Church, at whose dedication he assisted, impressed him as something new. He had just come from a land of a National Church, and of grand architectural monuments — the work of many generations. The instinct of the religious feeling to express itself in art had been satisfied in England, and modern religious activity was turned in other directions. But in America are no Westminster Abbeys, and no venerable cathedi-als— the heir-looms of the ages. The men of this age must be the builders, and if the art- instinct is to be satisfied at all, it must be by free churches and voluntary endeavour. Upon the Methodist Church in America, therefore, has come a burden and a privilege from which the Methodist Church in Great Britain has been to a great extent relieved. The different aspect of things at once im- pressed him, but he did not perceive all at once the forces at work, or the reasons why the Methodists of Brooklyn did not build five less expensive churches instead of this costly one. At a later period he fully realised the different claims of different circumstances, and heartily responded to them. In the city of Toronto, as we shall see by and by, he was the most active spirit in the build- ing of the Metropolitan Church — the most imposing church in a city that is sometimes called the City of Churches. The following are his observations and impressions of peculiarities, some of which, we hope, are soon to disappear. It may be well, therefore, to have a record of them : — "The Methodist Book Concern, in a dingy street, is a very commodious i868.] OBSERVATIONS\ AND IMPRESSIONS. 297 building, and the centre of an enterprising trade. The publishers showed me the proof of my own Ghimflx, in which they had established a private copyriglit without any knowledge on my part. They have succeeded in bringing out a much handsomer volume than the original. I suppose I ought to feel flattered and grateful for the compliment, but somehow I don't. They say it is only a mild example of the lex tuUonis, as some of their works have recently been published in England. Well, I suppose after we have both ' shot the rapids,' there will be an international copyright by which our remote posterity may gather the fruit of their own labour. " After two days' enjoyment of the frank and generous hospitality of New York friends — a hospitality which could not have been greater or more freely exercised, I took my seat with a strange sense of novelty ' on board ' the cars for the long railway ride to Montreal. An English- man, who is a sort of travelling mollusc, very apt to draw into his shell, has something to overcome before he can approve the American system of cars, where, according to the Irishman's reckoning, ' one man is as good as another, ami a r/reat deal better.' Fancy long unwieldy carriages, a great height above the track, in which sixty or eighty people, who have no privilege of choice, are huddled together. Here is a bishop who wants to study his forthcoming homily, — but on a seat with him is a baby who breaks in upon the thread of the bishop's discourse at intervals, by de- livering a discourse of its own with much earnestness and ' with no language but a cry.' Here are emigrants with their bundles ; there are soldiers with their arms ; yonder are felons en route to the State prison. Some of your fellow-passengers are — well, say salivacious ; some are stertorous, some are infragrant, some are inquisitive. But there you are with no privacy, and no rest, if you travel for a thousand miles. "Well, but the sleeping cars, what of them ? Are they not a luxury un- known in the eastern world ? If the roads were solidly constructed, and the wheels ran smoothly, and you could resign yourselves to slumber with a tolerable probability of waking in a whole skin, they might be luxuries ; but as these are all of them contingencies, the advantage is doubtful, to say the least, and hardly compensates for the additional outlay of dollars. "After having passed Hartford, Connecticut, hallowed to me as the home of Mrs. Sigourney, we got into one of these sleeping cars at Spring- field, in the State of Massachusetts. About three in the morning came the conductor with a voice ominous as the croak of a raven, ' You must get up and change cars ; there has been a smash on the line.' And, to be sure, there had been a serious collision, and in the darkness we had to grope our way, lighted only by newly kindled fires, which made the dark- ness and the havoc more ghastly, past the battered engine and the overturned leviathan cars, to a train which awaited us on tlie other sidC) at a distance of about a quarter of a mile. By this delay we lost con- nections, so that our misliaps were not all over. As there are only single 298 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. XI. tracks for the most part, no special train could forward us, and we were detained ten hours at St. Albans, a place unknown to fame and song, ex- cept in connection with the St. Albans' raid, of which the papers spoke a year or two ago. The day at St. Albans wore its slow length along, redeemed from tediousness by the society of Montreal friends, who had come out to meet us, and by an enchanting view of the expanse of Lake Champlain, and at length, about 10 p.m., we crossed the magnificent bridge over the St. Lawrence, and were again in Queen Victoria's domin- ions, and safely housed in the good city of Montreal. " From Montreal we wend our way to Ottawa, the capital of the Dominion, chosen, it is to be presumed, partly because of its distance from the frontier, and partly because they who chose it had strong faith in the future. Rough roads, cedar swamps, snake fences, wooden shanties, gi'ound partially cleared, with black unsightly stumps of trees left to decay, every- thing betokening the dawning of civilisation in a neighboui-liood where the sun is rather slow to rise, all these signs meet as the train winds along between Prescott and Ottawa. It is interesting to see places like these in their beginnings. No prophet can prophecy what they may hereafter become. Ottawa is very beautifully situated upon the river fi-om which it gets its name. The Houses of Parliament stand upon a bold blufE of rock, and are very imposing. The interior arrangements will hold their own in comparison with St. Stephen's. They are most commodious and comfortable. I saw the Houses in session and conversed with several of the senators and members of the Legislature. Sir John A. Macdonald, the Premier, has a profile almost exactly like that of the Premier of England, and is said to resemble him in character as well as in face. I suppose between twenty and thirty of the members of the Dominion and Pro- vincial Parliaments are members of the Methodist Church, and some of them are men of considerable ability, and are likely to make their mark upon their time. This is as it should be, and as it will be by-and-by at home." Letter to the "Methodist Recorder." " The impression made upon my mind at Victoria University was most favourable. Since the charter was granted there have been nearly six hundred gi-aduates in the several faculties of arts, law, and medicine.* Many of these wcr present, strong and hearty in their affection for their Alma Mater ; and the addresses whicli were delivered at the Alumni dinner (a dinner, b the way, where all the toasts were drunk in water), while they attested the most unmistakable loyalty to British institutions * A faculty of theology has been added to the University and a union effected witli Albert College. There are now (1887) more than 1,800 graduates l868.] VICTORIA UNIVERSITY. 2gg ■javc the evidence of ability which would not disgrace a IJi'itisli House of Commons. There were two members of the legislature present, both graduates of Victoria College ; physicians, barristers, mayors, merchants, all filling reputable positions in life, linked in afiection and interest to an institution which boldly and manfully proclaims herself a Weslej'an University. I rejoiced greatly in the influence which is thus wielded for our own Church, and should deplore as a grievous calamity anything which would impair it. The Legislature of Ontario has been accustomed to give an annual grant towards the college funds, but they are threatening to withdraw all gi'ants fi'om denominational colleges, and are wishful to bring about an affiliation of all such colleges to the Toronto University. If such affiliation could be accomplished on equal terms, and without the cession of the University Charter, it might be an advantage ; but I confess that the reconciliation of class interests even here seems so difficult, and the ultimate benefit so doubtful, that I should be glad to see the Methodist people render themselves practically independent of the intrigues or fickle- nesses of politicians altogether. Not that I would have them give up then- just claims upon the Legislature. They have made great sacrifices for the higher education of the country on the faith of State help, and in some way or other, either by a sum fixed according to expenditure and results, or by a sum paid down in lieu of all future demands, this claim must be met, or the reputation of the province would be tarnished and its future put in peril. Dii arertite omen. " From Cobourg to Toronto the country still improves in appearance, and begins to look (nearlya month later) something like the green England which I left, each day developing some new secret of the spring. Toronto is a fine, well-built city, with a more English appearance than many others. Some of its public buildings are very fine, especially the University and the educational buildings, over which our friend the Rev. Dr. Ryerson presides— the informing soul, so to speak, of the whole system of common- school education in Upper Canada, a man who has had the rare privilege of building his own monument, and that more durably than in brass or marble." Letter to the " METiionisT Recorder." "May, 18G8. " During my whole stay in the wonderful city of Chicago, I was in a state of chi-onic bewilderment, and became so accustomed to be astonished that there ceased to be any novelty in the sensation of surprise. Here I stood in the largest grain emporium in the world. "The word corn in America means Indian corn exclusively, all other kinds are grain. " With two hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, substantial buildings, tiers of lofty warehouses, miles of docks, hotels vying with the ' Langham ' 300 TV. MO R LEY PUNSHON. [cHAV. xl. and the ' Grosvenor ' in size ; yet fifty years ago the long grass of the prairie waved unbroken, and the Indian paddled his canoe with no pale faces near him, save those who were condemned to inhabit the old prison- like fort, whose remnant in the last stage of dilapidation they show you to-day. I suppose for rapidity of growth there is no parallel to it in all the world. It was impressed upon me most vividly from a fact which their clironiclers record, that in 1838 — just thirty years ago — the inhabit- ants of Chicago — then numbering some six hundred, were alarmed at nightfall by the howling of a wolf, turned out to destroy it, and killed thirfy-fight wolves before inoniinr/. After this, one ceases to wonder at any tales of progress. This growth of cities in this vast continent is mar- vellous indeed. Although Chicago exhibits it on the largest scale, the thing is normal through the whole of the vast Western territory. " The General Conference has been so often described that it would hardly profit to repeat the description. Your readers know that it is held once in four years ; that it is composed of delegates elected by the annual Conferences ; that it is presided over by the bishops in turn, and that its functions are appellate and legislative ; strangers are admitted to the galleries and beyond the bar ; but even this distinction is practically ignored, and as but few of the ministers have any distinctive dress, it is not easy, if it were desired, to tell who are members of Conference, and who are there by courtesy only. As Chicago was crowded with visitors, brought there by the double attraction of the Conference and the Republican Con- vention, there was more excitement than usual ; but I saw lay men and ladies — with apparently equal rights — seated fast by reverend seigniors, as if the vexed question liad been settled, and each district and each Dorcas meeting had elected delegate or damsel of its own. The church in which the Conference Mas lield stands in " Methodist Block,'" so called because the square of houses is all trust property. The Cliiciigoans pride them- selves upon their far-siglited shrewdness in securing it. All the lower part is occupied by shops or stores, and as the block is in a commanding situation and in the heart of the city, these shops are let easily and for a high rent, so that tlie trustees have a revenue of about $30,000 or £6,000 sterling for purposes of church extension, by which they have already aided largely in the building of churches in other parts of Chicago. My first impression of the Conference was taken from the g;illery, and I was much in the condition of the man wlio looked down the chimney at the fire, and who was bewildered and blinded by the smoke. It would not, therefore, be fair to record it. Further observation convinced me of the majesty of the Conference, and of its enormous moral power. I do not think it is .so orderly nor so rcvei-cnt .as our own. The presence of enthu- siastic strangers, who ajjplauded as if they had a right to do so, and who on certain occasions are asked to vote, is a sore temptation to speech-making. The mode in which they express their wish for a vote to be counted seems i868.] GENERAL CONFERENCE AT CHICAGO. to be unhappy. When the bishop has ruled a question to be carried on a show of hands, some brother will jerk out the word ' Doubted,' when the vote must be taken again and the numbers declared ; I saw this done on one occasion when there were some twenty votes on one side and nearly two hundred on the other. But with all this, there is a devotedness, a oneness of purpose, a careless sense of freedom, an appreciativeness of good intention, a general moderation, a brotherly kindness, and an evident and self-sacrificing desire for the glory of Chi'ist, that are above all praise. The kindness of the Conference and of the bishops to myself per- sonally, or rather to myself officially, for they saw in me the representative of the British Conference, was unbounded. Bishop Janes met me at the station on my arrival, though it was eleven o'clock at night, and the three senior bishops met me at the cars on my departure, and very cordially wished me God speed. I feel unworthy to be thus served by men at whose feet I would willingly sit, because of their experience and successes in the Master's service. I suppose I must have shaken hands with the whole Conference, so many pressed forward — some full of old country memories ; some with brimming eyes at some roused thought of home ; some true Americans, but with frank and kindly feeling to Great Britain — and all servants of Christ ; and wearing themselves out in His toil. Amongst others I was glad to gi-asp the hand of Peter Cartwright — full of years, but racy and trenchant as ever — -while many whose names are well known in England, Durbin, Kidder, McClintock, George and Jesse J. Peck, Slicer of Baltimore, Eddy, Curry, Faster, Haven, etc., honoured me with their conversation and friendship. This General Conference has been noticeable for the admission of coloured men as delegates. There were seven of them, fine, intelligent-looking men, of all shades, from glossy black to dingy brown. I was glad to be permitted to be present, when by a vote, which was practically unanimous, colour- was adjudged to be no longer a disqualification for any office in the Church. Hail to the day when true freedom shaU prevail, and the great tides of love flood with all-embracing waves the little miserable enclosures, ' in whose eddying depths,' earth's charity has been so often 'drowned.' " On the 14th of May, Mr. Puushon wag" introduced to the General Conference of the Methodist Epis- copal Church, as the representative of the EngKsh Wesleyan Church. At the same time were intro- duced the representatives of the Wesleyan Church in Canada, the Kev. Egerton Ryerson, D.D., LL.D., and the Rev. Matthew Ritchie, D.D. Methodism in 302 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xi. America was just entering the second century of its existence. There were at that time under the juris- diction of the Methodist Episcopal Church, sixty- eight annual Conferences, with a memhership of 1,146,081 and a ministry of 8,000 men.* Mr. Punshon was introduced to the Conference in the kindest terms by Bishop Janes, and was greeted with enthusiastic and long continued applause. His address produced a profound impression. It is remembered and quoted to the present day. The speaker showed, of course, that he understood the people and the matters that he was to represent, but wtat surprised and won his hearers was the dis- covery that he understood them also, and entered with a rare and generous sympathy into their own thoughts and feelings. The following reference to his predecessors is characteristic of Mr. Panshon. " I think of honoured men in whose footsteps I am called to tread. I cannot forget that since your last general Conference, two of those who on former occasions have worthily represented us have passed to their abiding home. In the midst of tlic ciders among you, I am persuaded that the memory of Dr. Hannah is fragiant and undying. And you arc reminded of his genius, of his spirit, and of his lipe theologiail learning, of the cliarity wliich had its home in his heart, of his simple open face, and the patlios and power of his pulpit addresses, and of that odour of sjinctity which was expressed in every action of his life ; all these told even the thoughtless of the blessedness of a walk with (iod. You will not wonder at the affectionate Veneration with which we are accustomed to enshrine in our hearts the memory of that saintly man. * According to the Methodist Year Book, there were in January 1, 1887, in the United States, 27,000 travelling preachers, and 4,000,000 members, and a constituency of over ir),000,0u0. or more than one-fourth of the population of the entire country — ')t),000,i)00. In the Methodist Episcopal Church alone were 12,800 travelling preachers, and 2,000,000 members in full connection. i868.] ADDRESSES THE GENERAL CONFERENCE. 303 And yet more fresh and vivid in the memory of most of you, will be one who four years ago was the eloquent expositor of British AVcsleyan Methodism ; who, in your fair city of Philadelphia, glowed with his abound- ing love towards the brethren, and like Elijah, was taken from us ; and to whom such touching and proper reference was made in the adch'ess that has been read. We were not prepared for Mr. Thornton's departure. He had just returned fi-om his visit to your shores with enlarged experience, and with the warmer love which springs from closer knowledge. We were anticipating for him wider fields and holier triumphs, when suddenly the Master spake, and he was not ; and we were left in our sorrow to cry as we tracked his flight : ' My Father, the chariots of Israel and the horse- men thereof.' " To a question then much discussed in Anglican circles at home he referred as follows : — " Perhaps some of 3 0U may have read that there has been conversation about us lately in a notable ecclesiastical assembly, the convocation of the ministry of the Established Church of England, in the province of York, and that in the newspapers of the country there has been a good deal of discussion about a contemplated reunion between us and the Church of England. Now union is a very blessed thing. In view of the loss to the world, it is a thousand pities there should be a distracted Church. . . . There has been no propo.>-ition of union at all. There has been some talk of ahaorption, and if you take the Pan-Anglican idea of the matter, it would be the less absorbing the greater, which is a problem in dynamics hitherto unknown. If we would only consent to be absorbed quietly we might have certain concessions made. We should be allowed to have spiritual services, and to be somewhat enthusiastic in our own way, and some of us, highly favoured, might be exalted to positions of honour. So, perhaps to read these things from far, you may suppose we may be flattered by them, and that we are in danger of being ensnared ; but to us they are simply amusing. The time has long gone by for us to listen to any propositions of union except on equal terms. " We are not ' united Societies ' now ; we are a Church, with a godly order, with a compact and yet flexible organisation, with a pure creed, with gospel authority, with a practical and workable discipline, with, a Divine and hallowed life. And there are hundreds of thousands of those who are our joy and crown to whom we can say in the words of the Book, ' If we are not apostles unto others, doubtless we are apostles unto you, for the seal of our apostleship are ye in the Lord,' and our answer to them that do examine us is this. . . ." " 1 do rejoice most unfeignedly that, by the kindness of my brethren, I am permitted to-day to bear to you their fraternal greetings, to assure you 304 IV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xi. that the entire British Conference feels towards you and towards your nation the very heartiest good-will. "I know, for I have had opportunities for knowing — opportunities derived from a large experience, now extending over, I am afraid to say how many years of travelling throughout the length and breath of our land — that the great heart of England, its muscle and sinew, all that is best and strongest in it, is sound, and is cordial in this matter. '• I do not come among you to say this as a renegade Englishman, currying favour with you to secure a poor popularity by abasing my own institu- tions, and by exalting yours. These are honest English eyes that look straight into yours, eyes that have seen no fairer land than England, but I feel that I should have a small soul indeed if I could withhold my frank, genial admiration of your great country, and my prayer that its future may be a future of increasing glory. May the great city in which we are assembled, a city without parallel for rapidity of growth in the world, be the type of your national prosperity ! They tell me that it was lifted up out of the swamp so noiselessly that men ate and drank during the process without inconvenience and without fear. " Now that is the moral achievement which I hope for you. Not only on account of patriotism, not only because of fraternal feeling, but in my hope for the world do I trust that the two great nations which we re- spectively represent may work always in harmonious accord." To THK "Methodist Recorder." " They do things on a large scale in America. The directors of the rail- way invited the Conference to an excursion to the Mississippi, a trifling distance of a hundred and eighty-eight miles, and on Saturday, May 16th, three hundred and six availed themselves of the invitation. As we passed along our sensations of wonder were so frequently excited that it grew into a marvellous journey. I found myself seated beside a stalwart, weather- beaten minister, who claimed to introduce himself on the original ground that he, as a member of the General Conference, fiad travelled twice as far to attend its sessions as I had. I could not help admiring the energj' which had brought him so far, perhaps to sit speechless in a crowded church for a month. Anon came another marvel. We were crossing a veritable prairie, ' a boundless contiguity ' of grass, without a particle of ' shade.' There it stretched for miles on miles — flat, green, fertile, endless. It was my first acquaintance with a prairie, and it required but little fancy to realise all I ever read— elk and antelope, wolf and buffalo; the bull-frog, making niglit hideous ; the prairie-bird fla.shing on the wing ; dusky Indians trapping fur, their game, and no sign of a pale-face to ci-eate either astonishment or anger. But railroads are sad iconocliusts, and the iron liorse has frightened from the track all these iicconipaniments of the former time, and has borne hither thriving farmers who flourish and fatten i868.] CAMP MEETINGS. 305 upon the affluent soil. By and by the broad stream of the Mississippi was reached and crossed, and wc were in the State of Iowa. The end of our excui-sion was the city of Clinton, numbering seven thousand inhabitants, with handsome streets, shops, hotels, club-houses, etc., all of stone. In 1854, just fourteen years ago, it was all prairie ! On the arrival of the excursion train at Clinton, we walked in procession to the hotel, where impromptu repast had been prepared by a united effort of all Christian denominations in the city. "I left Chicago with regret. It became endeared to me by much hospitality. Indianapolis was next visited, and then Cincinnati, the ' Porkopolis ' of the Union — a fine, handsome city, with a decidedly English appearance, and the suburbs of which, called Clifton, would not disgrace the Clifton of my memory and love. Here I spent a very interesting Sabbath, and preached in a pulpit provided with two rather novel articles of furniture— a fan and spittoon. In coming out of the church I was accosted with, ' How are you, sir ; I am from Bristol,' with a warm shake of the hand, and an eye in which the tears were dancing. A few paces more, and a husband and wife stopped me : ' We are from Sheffield ; we were both in Messrs. Cole's establishment.' Shortly after- ward another couple. ' We came from Rotlierham about twelve months since.' Oh, the gladness of an old-country greeting in a land of strangers ! ' As iron sharpenetli iron, so doth the countenance of a man his friend.' During my stay in Cincinnati, I visited the cemetery in which Robert Wallace lies, and gazed with mournful interest upon the monument erected over his remains. He was a good and able man, and there are many on both sides of the Atlantic who keep his memory green. " I have twice had the opportunity of seeing the true American camp- meeting. From the hospitable home of my friend, Mr. Elliott, at Dobb's Ferry, on the Hudson, I di'ove to the famous Sing Sing camp ground, pass- ing on the way the spot where poor Major Andre was arrested, and near the beloved ' Sunnyside ' of Washington Irving. I was hardly prepared for anything so systematic or so vast. The ground covers eight acres, and is held by trustees, like any other Church property. On this ground was erected a city of tabernacles, with main and side avenues, intersected by First, Second, Third, and Fourth Streets. The avenues converge to a large circular space, at one end of which was the preachers' tent, with the stand in front, from which the addresses were delivered. Some of those who reside in the city have tents of their own, with parlour, and bedroom, and kitchen, so that they may extemporise a home, and at the time of my visit there were families who had been ' dwelling in tents ' for a fort- niglit in anticipation of the camp-meeting services. The worshippers are called to the service by the sound of a silver trumpet, and in fact the entire organisation reminded me of the compliment which Dr. Chalmers paid to the Rev. George Thompson, of whom he said, ' he had never seen a man 20 3o6 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. XI, set about the work of saving souls in such a business-hke way.' For some days before the day of my visit, the weather had been unusually showery, which had somewhat diminished the attendance, but when I preached in the afternoon there could not have been fewer than four thousand people present, and on the following Sabbath I understand there were twice that number. I afterwards attended a meeting on the Ebenezer camp-ground, neai- Wilton, in Ontario, Canada, which, on the whole, pleased me better. There was less preparation and more nature. Some two hundred conveyances of all kinds and sizes were hitched to the trees, the horses taking it as quietly as if they knew the wherefore of the gathering. The circle was a clearing in a forest over-arched by a leafy shadow of elm, maple, and pine. The tents were ruder and fewer ; the cross-sticks supported the cooking-kettles in approved gipsy fashion ; but there was the same earnest spirit of work ; and as I gazed upon the mass of upturned faces, three thousand of them at the least, with the silvery moonlight glancing through the bright leaves overhead, and the ruddy camp-fires throwing radiance upon strong features, I thought I had rarely seen a spectacle .so sublime, and it was to me an opportunity awful and yet inspiring, to preach in that cathedral of God's own architecture, ' all the words of this life.' I can easily conceive that in the wrong hands, managed by those whose zeid is not according to knowledge, these meetings may be occasions of extravagance and mis- chief ; but many with whom I conversed, and those among the thoughtful and godly of om- people, both in the States and in Cauada, assured me that their fruits abound and abide. The following account of an Indian camp- meeting was written some two years after Mr. Piinshon's arrival in America, but it is given here with his description of the latest type of camp-meeting as seen at Sing Sing, and the more primitive type as seen at Wilton : — " In company with several ministers and friends, I embarked at Colling- wood on the steamer Wanhuno bound for Parry Sound, where a camp- meeting of whites and Indians was being held. Tlie Georgian Bay, whose vast expanse stretched out before us, is a mighty arm of Lake Huion, and is said to contain more than twenty thousjind islands of aU sizes, many of them rocky and desolate, but some fertile and exquisitel)' wooded. A Sivil of twenty-four miles brought us to a group of islands named respectively ' Hope,' ' Bcckwith,' and ' Christian ' — embraced in our Church enterprise as the Christian Islands Mission. Here we took on board the missionary, 1 868.] CAMP MEETINGS. 307 liis family, and some of his flock. There is a neat church on the most thickly peopled island, and some eighty-five members are under the missionary's care. With the exception of the keeper of the lighthouse, there are no other whites on the island than the missionary's family. About half a mile oflf is a small pagan village ; and here, almost secluded from society, hearing from the outer world but once a week under the most favourable circumstances, obliged like the ant to lay in food for the winter before the frost shall grasp and harden the waters, travelling often upon snow shoes twenty miles across the ice to a distant appointment, and but poorly paid for all, at least in this world's lucre, the man of God lives and labours with a faith and endurance and cheerfulness worthy of apostolic times. For about twenty-two miles the steamer threaded its way through a succession of islands which seemed almost interminable, and then we swept round a headland and entered a capacious sound, in which navies might float securely and with ample room. Nestled among the inlets lies the village of Parry Sound, a thi-iving settlement of about thi-ee hundred inhabitants, where ten years ago was the primeval forest. Christian enterprise has been privileged to found a prosperous community here, with grist mill, store, hotel, saw-mill, etc., in active operation. The proprietors, Messrs. J. and W. Bealty & Co., who are the lessees of the timber limits, and owners of the steamboat and lumber mill, are pushing merchants, and good Methodists to boot. The younger brother is an active member of Parliament, an equally active local preacher, and a sort of resident lord of the manor. " The camp-ground is in a most romantic spot, about a mile from the village. It is a glade in the forest. Between it and the village is a ridge of rock sixty feet high, its natural bulwark, and below it a path slopes gently to a small cove in the sound, where the boats of the Indians are moored. As I first entered it in the dusk of the evening, the scene was picturesque in the extreme. In the centre, at the lower end of the ground, was a large frame booth — the preacher's stand — from which a minister was addressing about three hundred people. At the higher end, imme- diately opposite, stood a large wooden building, called the prayer tent. All around on either side were tents of every size and shape, some of wood, some of canvas, some of boughs of trees hung upon a skeleton frame, in which the Indians and others camped for the occasion. As we passed by the wigwams, perhaps an old squaw, withered with age, and smoking strenuously the while, would lift iip the canvas to have a better look at the stranger ; or some bright little papoose would frame his face in the folds and glance archly at the passer-by. Five large fires blazed upon the camp-ground, raised on stages about eight feet high. After the public service the whites adjourned to the prayer-tent, and the Indians, two hundred of them, gathered in front of the preacher's stand, and held a prayer-meeting among themselves. Deep devotion and intense fervour 3o8 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xi. of spirit characterised this meeting. Some were in deep distress and wailed plaintively for mercy, others were so overcome by their emotions that they swooned away. Three or four were thus prostrated at one time. The exercises were continued far into the night, and in true brotherhood of worship the whites ever and anon sang out some song of Zion, and before it died away the Indians took up the refrain, and in their own tongue joined in their ' strange hosannas,' their swarth faces lit up with radiance, and thrown into relief by the blazing pine-knots which crackled in the evening air. It was a sight to charm a poet into rapture, and to constrain from a Christian heart a burst of thanksgiving to God. " ' The Sabbath day was an high day.' The breakfast hour was seven o'clock, and immediately afterwards small companies gathered, according to previous arrangements, in various tents for prayer. The morning service was announced for ten o'clock, but before it commenced six Indian babes received the rite of baptism, administered in their own language by the Rev. Allan Salt, a native minister. I also baptised the child of a white settler, and preached to the people, in a cathedral of God's own architecture, ' aU the words of this life.' " Mr. Salt followed with an extemporised translation of my sermon in the Ojibway language. A brief interval for dinner, and then the services were resumed. A brother preached to the whites, and I addressed the Indians through an interpreter. There were several pagan Indians from neighbouring settlements on the ground, drawn irresistibly to the spot, and yet afraid, as the Christian Indians said, to bring themselves under the power of the Word. " A collection was made for the support of a missionary to the Indian tribes. Glancing around the audience my eye had lighted upon a poor ill-dressed, aflflicted, and somewhat uncleanly Indian, stiinding, like the publican, afar off I was mentally contrasting him with many around him, and wondering wliether such as he, pagan as I deemed him, and stolid as he seemed to be, were likely to be reached and rescued. The fi'iends who made the collection were evidently of my mind, for tbey had passed him by. What was my surprise to see his gaunt form stalking through the files of his companions, and striding up to the pa.stor in charge, with a piece of money in his hand, which he offered as his contribution with a smile that redeemed his homeliness into momentary beauty. And how much gi'eater was the rebuke to my unbelief when, a few hours after, this same man, having been some time under instruction, formally renounced paganism and its errors, and was baptised in the presence of the multitude in the name of the ' Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.' " There are glorious attestations to the power of Christ to save among those red men of the forest ; and thi"ough many hindrances arising both from external circumstances and from peculiarities of national character, there have been, and there are, examples among them of eminent piety. 1 868.] AMONG THE INDIANS. 309 " The Christianity which the Indians embrace brings other blessings in its train. The whole of the Ojibways and Mohawks have ceased to be savages for many years ; some of them are highly intelligent, and one chief who was with us at the camp-meeting has recently been appointed a magistrate. "Godliness is thus 'profitable unto all things, having the promise of the life that now is and of that which is to come.' " The Sabbath evening service was interrupted by heavy rain, but the rocks echoed back the sound of praise and prayer far into the night. At half-past seven on Monday morning the lovefeast began. Whites and Indians vied with each other in forwardness to testify for Christ. One fine old man, a superior chief from the Church of England Mission at Garden River, who was converted from paganism about three years ago, was especially earnest and even eloquent, in the witness which he bore for Jesus, and the faces of the Indians were a study as they sat and listened. They are not commonly demonstrative. The same stoicism which in the times of the war trail made them boast of meeting death without the moving a muscle, when he came in his most horrible forms, lingers about them yet, so that they wear no tell-tale faces, and rarely go beyond the ' ugh ' of satisfaction and approval ; but the ' old man eloquent,' touched the springs both of laughter and tears. At the close of the lovefeast I read the Sacramental Service, and, with the ministers present, administered the Holy Communion in that forest sanctuary, with the glad sun shining brilliantly, making the leaves, glossy with the recent rain, to sparkle like sprays of silver ; and the fresh healthful breeze ever and anon shaking a shower like a bright chrism, down upon the worshippers below. " I feel that I shall treasure the memory of this visit for the mainten- ance of my own faith in times of depression and of doubt. I believe more firmly than ever that there needs but the one Gospel for the ' one blood ' of ' all nations of men,' and I thank God for this deepening con- viction wrought by the sight of true missionary work on true missionary gi'ound. CHAPTEE XII. 1868— 1870. CANADA. Aged U to 4G. The Canadian Conference, 18G8. — Fraternal Greetings from Synod of Presbyterian Church. — Letters to Friends at Home. — Marriage. — Christmas. — Friendships. Charities. — Church Building. — Methodist Union. — Missions. — Education. — Lecturing. — American Opinion. During his stay iu Canada, Mr. Puushon was for five successive years President of the Canadian Conference. For the first year (1868—1869) his appointment was made according to usage by the Britisli Conference, on the nomination of the Cana- dian Conference. Year by year, for the next three years, the British Conference left the election of their President to the Canadians, and they always knew how to discern in the gifts, and graces, and fruits, that marked Mr. Punshon's ministry, suffi- cient warrant for making him their President — the first amongst the brethren. In 1872 the British Conference again exercised the right of appointment, and at the same time gave notice to the Canadian Church that the time had come when they expected to receive again the distinguished son whom they had lent to Canada. His first Canadian Conference was held in the 1 868.] FIRST CANADIAN CONFERENCE. 3" city of Kingston, June, 1868. The following notice of this Conference is from the Toronto CJiristian Guardian : — " What gave to the Conference a special attraction for the public, as well as the ministers, was the presence of the Rev. W. M. Punshon, M.A., as its honoured President. The fact that the parent Conference was willing to spare its most popular and eloquent preacher, one whose name has become of connexional interest in England, was taken as a proof that Canadian Methodism occupied no mean place in the esteem of our fathers and brethren at home. Mr. Punshon completely satisfied all expectations, and won all hearts. This is saying a gi'eat deal, for expectation had risen very high. Everything he said gave freshness to every occasion, as well as to every item of business. Perfect good nature and marked im- partiality, marked all his utterances. Orators are not often good business men, in Church or State ; but the President seemed to see at once the bearings and relations of every matter that came up, and to be specially gifted with an intuition of the brethren's names. The Conference sermon was preached by him. Many had read his sermons ; many had hear.l him preach in England and Canada, but never had they known him to be more ' in the Spirit on the Lord's day,' never to occupy a higher, holier, eleva- tion, than while preaching on that Conference Sabbath. His lecture after the close of the Conference on John Wesley and his Tintes, was fidl of original thought and illustrations. So much has been said, on this side of the Atlantic in the year of the American Centenary of Methodism, respecting Wesley and his Times, that many wished the lecturer had chosen a fresher subject ; but those who listened to the vivid and varied portraitures of the lecture, were delighted that he had chosen precisely that subject. Every topic is new when handled by the true orator." The Synod of the Presbyterian Church was in session in the city of Kingston at the same time as the Methodist Conference. A deputation from the Synod visited the Conference, who in return sent a deputation to the Synod. " Is not this a wonderful day?" said a ministerial member of the Synod of the Presbyterian Church of Canada as the deputation from his Synod was returning from the Wesley.^ n Conference. It ivas a wonderful day! We do not know that a Synod of the Scotch Church 312 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xii. ever before had sent such a deputation to any- ecclesiastical assembly of another Church, certainly not to any Methodist Conference. The reception by the Conference of this deputation from the Church of Scotland was of the most Christian and brotherly kind. The address to the deputation by Mr. Punshon was admirable in taste and spirit. When he offered, in conclusion, " to join our Scotch friends in a * Solemn league and covenant, against sin, and the Man of sin,^ the meaning of the en- thusiastic applause could not be mistaken." The following letters will continue the story of Mr. Punshon's life, and at the same time show something of the love of home and friends, with which his heart was always aglow, even when he seemed to be absorbed in the activities of his public life : — To THE Rev. W. O. Booth. "Toronto, June 16th, 1868. "I am taking a lesson from Mr. Wesley to-day, and snatching a moment when I am detained fi'om an expected journey, to send a word of remembrance to one who will ever live in my heart's affection. How are you ? Do you keep the same cheerful, genial, winsome Christian that you have always been, bearing your infii-mities with a courage that is dauntless, and with a grace and power which make your children glorify God in you V " This is a wonderful country. I have lost no time, I assure you, since I first landed. My experience has certainly been enlarged by travel, and one's ideas naturally get wider as one mingles with the fellowship of men. I am pleased with the Canadian brethren. They are for the most part men of one purpose, and one aim. " We have had a blessed Conference. There is considerable party feel- ing here, and I feared before I entered upon my work that it would be a great trouble to me ; but it has been a great joy. There has not been a hard word — everything has gone on with the greatest harmony — and I was graciously helped in the public services as I have rarely been before. I am now on my way to the Eastern American Conference. I hope to reach St. John on Friday afternoon— this is Tuesday. The distances are 1 868.] LETTERS TO FRIENDS. indeed magnificent. I have travelled nearly seven thousand miles since I left home, and it is very fatiguing, because so many of the trains run in the night. I came down to the wharf at two o'clock to-day, hoping to go by steamer to Montreal, and lo ! when I arrived, the Government, with- out giving notice to anybody, had chartered the boats for the conveyance of troops, and so there was no boat ! and I have to travel three hundred and tliirty-thi'ee miles to Montreal by the dusty, slow, democratic rail, and all by night. You have liad some changes in England since I left. Poor Spence Hardy ! Father Squance was in the Bculah country when I was in Portsmouth in February. Dr. Andrews, and old S. Freeman are both gone home too, and among my friends — Mrs. Bailey, Clement Heeley's daughter, Mr. Newtoii of ThornclifEe, and poor Mrs. Hird of Leeds. So we all pass away ! I hope you will have a good Conference. We send you Harper — a good man and true — as representative." The odd pet name given to liis daughter in the following letter, was recognised by father and child as a symbol of the peculiar love between them ; and it was a peculiar love. On the one side, the tender yearning of a father's heart, exalted by a chivalrous reverence for woman, unconsciously commanded by the maiden. On the other side, an admiration akin to worship, the artless love of a child, a fearlessness that would reprove the impulsive word or act, the thought unworthy of him, and a motherly solicitude by which the strong man was comforted in the time of his pain and sorrow, " as one whom his mother comforteth." To His Daughter. " Fredrickton, N. Brunswick, Jan. 2&th, 1868. " My own dear Tibbie, .... This is the third letter I have written directly and exclusively for yourself. I suppose it will reach you before you leave London for Liverpool, and tend to cheer you in the voyage, with the assurances (if you need them) of papa's unchanging and tender affec- tion. I hope you will not be very disgusted with this country, as I find John William says he is. You would not think he was, to see him some- times. . . . He has no cause to be disgusted, unless his noted attachment to Old England renders him insensible to the kindness of friends and the beauty of scenery elsewhere. It shall be my study, darling Fanny, to .314 TV. MO RLE Y PUNS HON. [chap. XII, make you happy when you come into this New World. You will feel, I daresay, parting from old friends and scenes ; but with those you love and who love you near, and with as much civilization as a new unfinished country can furnish, you may manage perhaps to get along pretty well. This is a beautiful place in which we are located — the residence of the Hon. Judge Wilmot, who expects in a few days to be gazetted Governor of New Brunswick. The house is of wood, but beautifully covered with vines, and the grounds are exquisitely laid out and very extensive How did you enjoy the Handel Festival ? I thought of you very much that day. I hope you are keeping your heart with all diligence. In the absence of the means of grace you will get slack and cold unless there be special watchfulness and prayer." To E. D . "Meadville, Penn., July ?>Oth, 1868. " I am on my way to New York, to await the arrival of the ' Scotia. And strange to say, I am too agitated and apprehensive to be happy. I don't remember fiercer trials of faith, nor more frequent recurrences of ' the dark hour,' than have been my portion during the last month. Happily, in my deepest depression, I have had no misgiving about my duty. ... Of course, God, who has led me hitherto, may be better to me than my boding fears. And may take care ' at once,' as dear Mr. Arthur said, ' of me and of His own cause.' I trust He will. I would fain serve Him yet in the Gospel of His Son. . . . God bless you for all past kind- ness, and sympathy, and upholding." On the 4th of August his family reached New York. He writes, " Thank God, they are here safe, and our four months' exile is over at last." This four months' exile was but the beginning of what he expected to be a life-long expatriation. The sister of his deceased wife had been for ten years fill- ing a mother's place to his four motherless children, and by her faithful ministry making his house a home. That such a man should learn to love such a woman need surprise no one ; but the law of England forbade him to make her his wife — a statute of the year 1835 declaring marriage with a deceased wife's sister illegal. He would have submitted to this law, though he considered it unjust, and treated the i868.] MARRIAGE. 315 ministering angel of his home as his own sister. But this would not satisfy others, for his love was not concealed, and to please them he must either remove her from his home or marry another. A way of escape from such alternatives was unexpectedly opened up. There came fi'om the Methodist Church in Canada, a request that he would become their President and dwell amongst them. In Canada there were not the same legal objections to his marriage as obtained in England, whilst the sentiment, and usages, and judgment of the country were adverse to the English statute. After long con- sideration, and full consultation with his brethren in the ministry and his trusted friends, he accepted the call of the Canadian Church. How great the sacrifice was to him may be imagined by those who knew his intense love for his native land, his strong attach- ment to his personal friends, and his devotion to the Church to which he had given the first years of his strength. On the 15th of August, in the city of Toronto, Mr. Punshon was married to Miss Vickers. The marriage ceremony was performed by the Rev. Egerton Ryerson, LL.D., the Nestor of Canadian Methodism. What rest and comfort and happiness were in that home can never be forgotten by those who knew it. Its memory lingers Uke the memory of summer. Such a home had been the undoing of some men — of men who would have turned its rest into ease, and its comfort into indulgence ; but he never ceased to be *' in labours more abundant and in journeyings often." The comforts and joys of home were not suffered to 3i6 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xii. hinder, but were made to help him in the Master's service. To M. F- — . "Clifton House, Niagara, August 18th, 1868. " It struck me you would like to receive a letter with the above head- ing; and although it is a sultry afternoon, and I feel oppressed with a strange weariness, yet I have roused myself to sit down for the purpose. My wife is by my side, the cataracts roar outside, things of beauty which are joys for ever, images of sublime immensity which awe, while they entrance the soul. . . . You will not have lived perfectly until you have seen Niagara. . . . Fanny Junior comes to-morrow, to stay here till Saturday, and then (D.v.) we take possession of our new home. May it be a happy one. It will be, I trust, a household consecrated to the service and glory of God." To THE Rev. Thom.\s M'Ccllagh. "New York, October I2th, 1868. " I have purposed ever since my arrival on these shores to send you a friendly line, but ' work, work, work,' is the lex ritce of a Methodist preacher in either hemisphere, and so I have been 'let hitherto.' When we used to be so near each other in Cumberland, I little thought that the great gulf would separate us, ' but there is a divinity which shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will.' . . . Our good host, Mr. Elliott, had a reception for us on Friday night. . . . Dr. Durbin, Dr. Carey, and a host of New York notables were among the number. Abel Stevens could not come, but was here to dinner yesterday. He is a fine, genial fellow. I enjoyed his society thoroughly. Yesterday afternoon we heard Dr. Tyng, one of the eminent Episcopalian clergymen, and at night went over to Brooklyn to bear Henry Ward Beccher. It was a strange mix- ture of slang, scholai'ship, point, and power. . . . We have a nice house in Toronto, and do not lack any comfort, I think, which we had in England, except the occasional sunshine of the countenances of our friends. . . . " Memory lingers very often on old scenes and friends, and any tidings of them is very grateful. You seem to have had an interesting Con- ference. What with Thomas Jackson, and Dr. Pusey, and the Tim.es, and Punch, Methodism is in its silver-slipper state, indeed. Here in Canada it is a great power. The freedom with wliich it works out here, with no shadow of an established Church to darken it, is amazing. Only think, I lectured the other day in Newbury, a thriving Canadian village of eight hundred inhabitants. There is only one Church, and that the Methodist one. The Episcopalians have a small room which they hire, and in which they liave a service once a fortnight ! 1 868.] KEEPING CHRISTMAS. 317 " The Colonial Office has just sent out a table of precedence for Canada, which lias been received with indignation and contempt, for bishops and archbishops are mentioned above privy-councillors, etc. One of the papers has made the country merry by finding out that the senior bishop in the Dominion is good old Bishop Richardson, a one-armed, plain, homely Methodist, of the Methodist Episcopal Cliurch, which in Canada is a very fractional part of the population, but as the table does not specify what sort of a bishop, he, of course, will rank above all the rest. Our Canadian preachers are an earnest set of men, and some of them are very superior. . . ." Journal. " December 2bth, 18G8. — Through the various and eventful seasons this hallowed day has come, my first away from the old land, but the spirit of the Advent is the same, and the same dear Saviour smiles. Though most of my friends join with ' the herald angels ' in my native land, and some have been transferred into their own choir, I must afresh enter into covenant to-day — a covenant which I never subscribed more heartily, for I am oppressed by the great goodness of God. Truly, great as have been my trials, my mercies are gi'eater, and to-day I would humbly record my unwavering determination to be the Lord's." In all the light and shade of life, the Christmas in his home was joyously and piously spent. A merry Christmas, and a Jioly CJiristmasa,i'e separated by an impassable gulf to many Christian souls. It was not so to him. From the hour of rapt com- munion with his God he would come into the fellow- ship of his home with the dew of tenderness yet in his eyes, and the light of heavenly visions lingering on his face. And he would enter with the lightest heart into all the innocent sport of the home-circle. Yet it was felt by all that the faith, and hope, and love of the devout soul were so blended with the light and joy of the festal hour as to make a music in his life. Such many-sidedness and largeness of soul is not always understood. People who can be solemn only, are scandalized to see a minister of the Gospel in the full enjoyment of social and festive 3i8 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xii. life, and they say " behold a man gluttonous, and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners." Others, of just as narrow sympathies, say " Ah ! there is the true man, and the seriousness was only professional decorum." The narrow-minded saint and the narrow-minded sinner both say " he hath a devil" — the saint, when the man of God feasts and is merry, and the sinner when he fasts, and weeps, and prays. As the great Feast of Christ came round year by year, there was in the preacher's home no more youthful and gladsome spirit than his own. For days beforehand he might be seen stealing into the house with hands and pockets full of parcels that were rapidly put under lock and key. What amus- ing expressions were heard of his own expectations of the good things to come ! What sly suggestions of the improbable or impossible presents that he would like ! What feigned but alarming approaches to the secrets jealously and lovingly guarded from his eye and thought till the right moment of dis- closure should arrive ! And when the morning of the holy day at last had come, he would be found in the family circle with the serenity and strength of his manhood all beautiful with a freshness and gentleness like that of childhood. Then came the usual morning kiss, and the added salutation of the day, the story of the Advent read once more with such light and feeling that the Old, Old Story seemed new again, and then the cheerful meal, the antici- pation of the Christmas mail from England, or the discussion of the budget just arrived, the prompt despatch of necessary business, the sacred i868.] KEEPING CHRISTMAS. 319 music and song to occupy the moments till cliurch time. Then, the gladness of the family group as they went up to the house of the Lord, the devout attention, the sympathy and interest of the great preacher when he was a hearer, the kind and grateful notice of the good things in the sermon, and the silence on the weak points, if such there were. After the generous Christmas dinner, with all its merry talk, its memories and hopes, came the long- expected moment for the distribution of presents. The wants of each were anticipated and revealed by his gifts, and it was often found that he had remembered some old wish, forgotten by the one who had uttered it. His own spirit and tact were repeated again in wife and child, and he would find himself, in turn, the subject of a pleasant surprise. The evening is filled with music and singing, reading and recitation, speech and story, till once again the tired, happy household gather for the evening hymn and prayer, and the Christian home is hushed in the quiet of the holy night. At the Christmas of 1870 the cypress was mingled with the holly. And on the Christmas of 187'2 there were clouds of fear and sorrow at strife with the sunshine of their joy. In the one case the recent death of his wife, and in the other the failing health of his only daughter, subdued and chastened every mind. But in neither case was it felt seemly to allow the day to pass without a glad recognition of the good tidings of great joy. There was no dis- honest attempt to ignore the dark cloud that hung over the life, but with it all there was a genuine, a grateful, and joyous recognition of the light of Christ 320 TV. MO RLE Y PUNSHON. [chap. xii. by which the sable cloud of earthly sorrow was made to " turn forth her silver lining on the night." lu the love of h'iends, as well as of wife and children, and home, and Church, and native land, William Moriey Punshon was a man of a great heart. The words of truth and soberness concerning the beauty and strength of his friendships may seem ex- travagant to those who did not know him intimately ; but those who did so know him, cannot but think of his friendship for the late Gervase Smith, and Luke Wiseman, and Bishop Janes, as they think of the love of David and Jonathan. And some are yet living on both sides of the Atlantic, men and women, who mourn for him as the brother beloved, whose like they cannot hope to see again. With mingled fondness and reverence one aged friend is addressed as "papa." Many friends of early years are called by the old familiar names. One is to him a sister, in frank trust and reverent affection such as they alone can know who are filled with the spirit of the same Heavenly Father. Children always had the right of way into his heart. Some called him " papa" as he did his aged friend, and others still speak of him as dear Uncle William. The red-letter days and the black-letter days of his friends were all noted, and they brought from him kind words and letters as natm-ally and as constantly as the spring-flowers answer to the sunshine and the rain of the early year. " I like to observe days and seasons," he writes to a young friend, "if thereby I can glint a little sunshine into the hearts of my friends." This wealth and warmtli of heart may not be i868.] LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 321 understood by all — not even by all of those who have, on other grounds, a genuine admiration for the sub- ject of these memoirs ; and some may even think it a weakness in his character. But as wisdom is justified of her children, so let love be justified of her's, and let no one presume to judge in this matter who has never either inspired or been inspired with a love like his. To E. D — . " Toronto, November 25th, 1868. " It does us good always to receive your letters — our best, as weU as our dearest thoughts and desires are enkindled. Pray do not cease your ministry. Even when the note is of warning, regarding either intemper- ance of toil or spiritual ease, it is a welcome word ; our hearts often thank God for such a friend. You have made up your mind pretty soon that we are to ' settle ' on this side. With my usual caution I hesitate to pronounce so early upon the possibilities of the future. Indeed I am living from day to day ; and for the first time in my life, I have no golden period within the horizon after which the eye strains and the hope yearns. One thing is certain, I have no narrower sphere of usefulness here than I have ever had. I am apt to tremble sometimes at the responsibility which my position seems to entail." To THE Same. " Toronto, March iOth, 1869. " We have together grieved over your evident weakness and sufiEering) and hailed any signs of revival and hopefulness which we could gather from your letter, but we know how gently the Father chides those whom He loves, and we have rejoiced in the golden autumn which in spirit has followed upon the burning of summer. " My dear sister, it does seem to me that your ministry is but beginning ; there seems so much for you to do, to cheer the sorrowing and to chide the wayward, to strengthen other's faith by the lustre of your own, — that we want you to be hale in all the rapture of life, and that your ministry may be fulfilled. I do wish for you to-day the highest good, the deep rare blessedness, happier than happiness far. " I suppose Fanny has told you of our journeying. Did she tell you that at Columbus, Ohio, I preached to the deaf and dumb ! And she cried, and I cried as nearly as a man ought. I opened the Senate with prayer one morning at Washington. I wonder when a Methodist Minister will do that in a British House of Commons ! I was greatly helped in the 21 322 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xii. service at the dedication, but the irreverence annoyed me much. ... I wish you knew the P — ts, I think they would be a comfort to you and you to them. They are so simple and beautifully good, and dear Mrs. O is a gem. . . ." To THE Same. " Toronto, Sabbath Afternoon, June 13th, 1869. "... You cannot think with what a pride I see her wijining her gentle way here, as at home, into the hearts of the people, by a thousand quiet ministries, taking without an efEort the place they are not slow to accord her. I never could understand the secret of her power, but I begin to find it exerted here, as it used to be. . . . We just want a few of our English friends to look upon us in our Canadian home. " Well, the Conference is over — one of the best they ever had — the law of kindness in their lips from the beginning to the end. An increase reported of 2,156, one-thirtieth of the entire membership. You have been apprized already that I was re-elected President by a virtually unanimous vote. . . . I think you also received papers with the address to the people on their duties to the ministry, and to the ministers about to be ordained. I have put my whole soul into them. I did in the delivery, and I had almost said my whole life also — for after the Sabbath service I broke down — had one of my old faints intensified, was consumed with considerable fever, and away from the Conference for four days. I was variously exercised during my illness. "My strong love of life, moreover, agitates and troubles me. I can't decide whether it is riglit or wrong to cherish it. Yet I dare not doubt. I accept Christ in all the fulness of His offices and work as my surety. I have no other hope, but it is rarely that I have the (jlotc of this. Perhaps if I had a more hopeful experience I should have a more useful one. Perhaps not. Wlio knows ? I know this anyhow, that I believe in Jesus, and love Him, and long to love Him more. May He perfect His love in my heart. ..." The practical benevolence and private charity of Mr. Puuslion were in harmony with his largeness of heart. Of his private charities we may not speak. They were larger than appeared even to his intimate friends, for they were conducted after the teaching of the Love incarnate : " Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth." Whenever in his life such private charities were detected, he stood 1869.] GENEROUS SERVICE. 323 abashed before his own good deeds ; but it is due to the Church and to the world that mentiou be made of his liearty and generous support of efforts to bring glory to God and good to men. To tliese objects he not only devoted the talents that would have gained him place and power, and even rank as a leader and ruler of men ; but he returned in his subscriptions to her enterprises, much, if not all of the stipend that the Chm'ch allowed him, and as St. Paul lived by his craft so did Mr. Punshon live on the proceeds of his literary labours — labours which at the same time brought a large material as well as moral profit to the Church. In view of this fact his Canadian friends and fellow- workers thought it meet to present him with a purse containing four thousand dollars on the occasion of his return to the mother Church in England. When he heard of this purpose on their part it caused him no little embar- rassment. He could not gracefully refuse the gift, but before it was given he had resolved to provide for its return to the Canadian Church at his decease. Too soon, alas ! this generous use of the generous gift was made, and the money was returned to the Canadian Fund for the support of superannuated ministers. We have now to note some features of the work in which Mr. Punshon engaged in America. One of his first judgments on the peculiar ways of American Methodism was, it will be remembered, a mild condemnation of the policy that spent $200,000 on a beautiful church in the suburb of Brooklyn instead of in the building of five less expensive churches. He soon realised that the history and 324 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap, xii. circumstances of the Church in America called for corresponding peculiarities in work and methods, whilst the spirit and aim remained the same as in the old land. In the early times in Canada, before the establish- ment of representative government, the influence and prestige of the Episcopalian Church established by Parliament in England, prevailed in the colonies also. Till the year 1798 the clergy of no other Protestant Church had the privilege of solemnizing matrimony. Till 1843 the clergy of the Anglican Chm'ch were the sole beneficiaries of the clergy reserve lands — originally one- seventh of the crown lands in the province of Upper Canada (now Ontario) — set apart for the sup- port of the Protestant clergy. Till 1849 the control of the provincial university, then called King's College, was committed to the favoured Church. One after another these privileges, obtained through the partiality of irresponsible rulers, were disallowed by the Canadian Legislature, and perfect religious equality was established. This equality had prevailed so long before Mr. Punshon's arrival in the country that the asperities of the old time had nearly passed away, and a new generation had grown up who could wonder and smile at the social and civil disparity of the different communions in earher times, the pro- voking assumption of right to rule on the one side, and on the other, the indignant rejection of the claim. Whatever traces of the old differences had survived were largely forgotten in the hearty admiration and homage rendered by all the Churches to the great Methodist preacher, and this feeling of brotherhood was all the better for the fact that Mr. Punshou 1869. J CANADIAN CHURCHES. 3^5 always felt himself to be, and others felt him to be, a Methodist preacher, with a large catholic sympathy but, at the same time, a clear preference of mind and heart for the Church of his choice. Immediately on his coming to Canada he seemed to get into touch with his brethren, and to throw all his enthusiasm and energy into the onward movement of the Church. One of the first of these movements was the extension of church accommodation and the improvement of church architecture. The early Methodist churches were like the homes of the people, plain and uncomely, as might be expected amongst the first settlers in a new country. To some extent also these buildings gave outward and visible signs of the disabilities under which the Noncon- formists of early Canada suffered in common with their brethren in England. The luxuriant growth of a Church endowed and fostered by the State permits only a stunted growth to a struggling Nonconformist Church, and the architecture of the two Churches generally corresponds to the difference of their con- ditions. The perfect religious equahty that had been achieved in Canada, and the great increase in num- bers and in wealth of the Methodists and other Non- conformists, had been followed by a corresponding and becoming change in church architecture. The old time distinction between church and chapel became a matter of tradition only, and the import- ance of each religious body came to be measured by its worth and works and not by any standing given by Act of Parliament. The change from the comparative shadow in which a Nonconformist lives in England to the perfect 326 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xii. religions equality enjoyed in Canada was a grateful one to Mr. Punsbou. He thus speaks of it in his address to the English Wesleyan Methodist Confer- ence at Manchester, where he was representative of the Church in Canada : — " I do not know whether you will call it an advantage or no, but, in frankly speaking my own mind, I cannot help calling it a gi-eat and blessed advantage that Methodism in Canada walks abroad in the sunshine, that she cowers beneath no ancient shadow. She neither frets under legal restrictions nor droops beneath a baleful ascendancy. Oh, it has often been to me a glory and a joy, that the Methodism which I love, my own native and preferred Jerusalem, has there taken the position which she ought always to take among the Churches — standing forth in her comeli- ness the peer of all, and in her charity the friend of aU — too kind to be the enemy, too proud to be the vassal, too affluent in spirit and resources to be the poor relation of any." The Methodist Church in Canada holds a foremost place in numbers, wealth, and influence, and at once realised that in her churches, her missions, and her educational work, she should take the place, and do the work, to which Providence had called her. The chief monument of the church extension and improvement that marked Mr Punshon's time is the Metropolitan Church in the city of Toronto, and so large a part did he take in this enterprise that it is still pointed out as his monument in Canada. It is the largest and most beautiful church in the city, built at a cost of $180,000. In many other cities and towns, and also in country places, beautiful churches were built — one church at the lowest estimate being dedicated for every Lord's day in the year. To the dedication of many of these churches multitudes were drawn by the charm of the English preacher's elo- quence and the spiritual power that attended his word, 869.] STRATA' OF WORK. 327 The Canadian Conference sought to make the hest use of the extraordinary gifts of their President by making liim practically a bishop. He was burdened witli the care of all the Churches, and therefore he was not embarrassed with any special pastoral charge. " The diocese," said he, " over which I am called to preside, for my work is Episcopal if my name is not, is one thousand five hundred miles long, by some two hundred to three hundred wide, exclusive of the missionary dis- tricts, and it contains within it a population of nearly three millions." His engagements in this ** diocese " often covered every Sunday for months in advance, and many week- days as well. On his election to the Presidency in 1869, he said : — " I am thankful further . . . that in a new climate and through the changes of the seasons and the perils of travel, I have been preserved in health and safety, having been privileged to conduct during the year one hundred and seventy public services, and travelling to render them, sixteen thousand miles." In some respects he may not have acted with a zeal according to knowledge in these excessive labours When every one of his numerous engage- ments brought with it the excitement and strain of a special effort, the pressure was more than flesh and blood could bear without distress and hurt. The hearers who wondered at the brilliancy and power of the preacher, could not well imagine the agony of spirit in which he sometimes approached the pulpit, or the suffering and exhaustion that frequently came on after the labour was accomplished. It is a ques- tion whether we do not sometimes bring on needlessly and culpably those sad results that leave us in a pious maze at the way in which " God buries His workmen, and carries on His work." It is a question to be well pondered by those to whom God has entrusted the 328 IV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xii. higli gifts of oratory, whether brain and heart should not have periods of complete rest to justify engage- ments of extraordinary excitement and exhaustion. Out great barristers and statesmen find such periods of rest between the sessions of courts and parliaments, but oui* great preachers too often find rest in the grave when they should still be serving the Church in the prime of their powers. In these pages it will be seen how Mr. Punshon's work appeared to him, amid what difficulties it was carried on, and in what earnestness and humility. Journal. " February 9th, 1869. — One month of the new year has gone, bearing, I fear me, a record of short-coming away with it. I have been incessant in labours but not of the most spiritual kind. I feel the lack of settled work, and a direct pastoral charge. It is easier to be spiritually minded when the whole heart and life are engaged in direct soul work with others. The heart moreover needs that exercise which a pastor's sympathy brings in its train. Many signs of good in the Connexion over which I preside. The ministry is a devoted one, and the people expect blessing. " Dear C. M converted, partly through my instrumentality. The Lord keep the dear child steadfast to the end. March lAth, 18G9. — Returned yesterday from a three weeks' tour into the States, during which I have preached in Washington and New York, and lectured in Columbus and Baltimore, Washington and Albany. Grateful for the goodness of God in preserving us through many journey- ings and some peril. Have been privileged to speak for Christ, and with some power I would that I could always feel the kindling of His love. Death is very busy among my friends at home. . . . Life seems very short, and to look back on my work in it is but an unsatisfactory retrospect. Oh for more direct power over the souls and consciences of men. "November 21 st, 1869. — . . . A smart attack of illness yesterday, and a half hour of thorough physical wretchedness before preaching this morn- ing. . . . Am often tempted to think that it cannot be God's will tlmt I should continue to preach when it is attended with so much suffering, suffering which concentrates on self the thought which ought to be given to earnestness or breathed in prayer, and which cannot fail, as it would seem, to be hurtful to the usefulness of my message, but the Lord sustains me in the actual work when once the tremor has passed. i87o.] WORK IN WINTER. 329 To THE Rev. Thomas M'Cullagh. "Toronto, January \Ath, 1870. " I have been long purposing to write to you, but have been ' let hitherto,' for I have never seemed to have so much to do in my life as I have had lately, and in the near future I can see no cessation nor rest. The preach- ing and lecturing work I can manage pretty well, but the ' care of all the Churches ' is a grievous liurden. There are but few statesmen in this Conference, and a wonderful lot of lawyers, and disputes are continually arising upon small technicalities, and sometimes important matters on which the Book of Discipline is silent, which tire my soul. The President here is at once possessed of more and of less power than at home. His respon- sibility is greater during the year, but he is more liable to be overhauled at the end of it. However, if I can earn the peace-maker's blessing, or guide the old vessel safely through the shallows, I am content. " To-day we are in the midst of a snowstorm which realises the old traditional Canadian winters, and are shivering even through our double windows. We have just lost one of our ablest ministers. He died of heart disease on Christmas Day. He was a student at Richmond, con- temporary with Bush and the men of his year. James H. Bishop will not soon be forgotten in Canada. He was a ripe theologian, and a punctual, faithful Methodist preacher. Nearly every mail from home brings us the news of some break in the ranks of our friends. We have been greatly distressed by the news of the death of Mrs. J. W. Hall, jun., of Bristol, married her on June 21st, 1866, and after three short years of married lif she has passed away. Well, if the life is to purpose, and of faith, it matters not, though I am not insensible to the loss of being cut off in the midst of the days. I often think my love of life is morbid. But He who is the master of the human heart can loosen the fastest love. ..." To Mrs. T. F. C. M . " Toronto, February 3rd, 1870. " We are now in mid-winter, and it is pretty cold to-day. I drove seven and a half miles this morning, with the thermometer below zero, and have since been out twice in our own sleigh. . . . The two Fannies drove fifty- six miles in two days with me in a sleigh last week but one. I went up to Orillia on Lake Conchiching ... to dedicate a church. The drive was rather long, but on the whole I think they enjoyed it. The week before that I drove from Guelph to Fergus, thirteen and a half miles in the teeth of a fierce wind which almost skinned me — dedicated a church in the afternoon, attended a crowded tea-meeting in the evening, and started at 915 p.m. for the thii-teen and a half miles drive back. The thermometer six below zero, our breath congealing on our rugs and wrappers, the black and brown horses with which we started a well matched ivhite pair before 330 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xii. we reached our journey s end ; the snow crackling beneath our horses' feet, the brilliant moon walking in mid-heaven like a lonely queen, and making all the night radiant as the day. I don't think I ever enjoyed a ride more in my life. . . ." The following extract from another letter describes a midsummer night in Canada, and may well come in here after the midwinter night described above, and it should be borne in mind, especially by English readers, that the second is as truly Canadian as the first : — " This sultry sun has burnt out of me all the puny intellectual brilliance that I ever had, and I do nothing but languish through the days, attending committees and such small work, playing croquet in the cool of the evening, driving Fanny out now and then to pay some required visits, occasionally trying to fasten my mind to some laborious process but failing lamentably, and feeling it an effort to meditate at all, much less to grasp the invisible, and make my own its realities of comfort and wonder. I am thankful I was not born a Creole, not from any foolish prejudice of colour, but because I feel how difficult it is to be a 7)ian, serving God and working for Jesus, in hot romther. . . . Did you ever know what it is to sleep with two windows wide open, and a thin sheet as the only covering, and get up for a promenade in the night, looking out on the landscape while the air does not even flutter a leaf, and the sun seems to breathe in his brief slumbers as hotly as in his lusty march through the upper heavens? This summer has tried me much every way. In the midst of it we do a little. I preached on Sabbath evening and administered the Sacrament (amidst precious grace) to the people. . . ." Journal. " February 20th, 1870. — Touched profoundly during the week by the memoirs of dear A. H which S has written. What a wonder- ful revelation of God and heaven they must have had in that sick chamber. The gates were indeed ajar. In life she was timid and reserved, though always reverent and trustful. How suggestive her experience in dying, ' I don't need to cling to Jesus — He clings to me.' Heard of a drunkard reclaimed by a few words of mine in the noon prayer-meeting in Chicago a year ago. How humbling to think that the seed scattered by the way- side has borne fruit which has yet to appear in the furrows. ..." Juw 26th, 1H70. — Through infinite mercy spared during another Con- ference, which passed off pleasantly and profitably. The means of grace in tlio j)ul)lic services were especially refreshing. Delegates from other i87o.] METHODIST UNION. 331 Churclies furnished kindly episodes. The American representatives enjoyed themselves and profited us, and my dear old friend, Gervase Smith, brought safely over the ocean by God's goodness, delighted the bretliren exceed- ingly. The Conference was in fine temper. Scarcely a word to be regretted fnmi any one. An increase of 2,088, laua Deo. Since the Conference closed I have been wandering with my friend, Mr. Smith, whose society is as cold water to a thirsty soul. Some lethargy of spirit over me — per- haps nature's recoil from a prolonged strain — perhaps lassitude arising from prostration of body. . . ." To THE Rev. William Hirst. " Cincinnati, March. Uh, 1870. " It is refreshing and delightful to me to be assured of your changeless love, for I never was more covetous of it, and time does not deaden the feeling of old attachment, nor distance cause the dear images of friends to fade. " This is the blessed Sabbath, and I have just been preaching the word of life, and am thankful though humbled sorely. Oh, how diiferent I am from what I ought to be, and from what people think me to be. I do not think I am a hypocrite ; but I get so much clearer insight into truth, and into the harmony of Scripture and its wondrous beauty and power than I can possibly exhibit in my life, that I mourn and go softly, and can only long from the far depths to stand upon the crest by and by. Pray for me, my dear old friend ; I don't often let my friends into my heart. I wish I could sometimes lift the veil, but it is very often naked faith with me, and I would fain have, if the Lord will, some clothing of comfort and joy. I have been foolish enough to think that the joyous experience of some is withheld from me to keep me humble, lest I should be exalted above measure. Any how, this is one of the collateral results of it. But enough ; I have shown you one or two of my soul problems, that I may have your praj'ers. I need them, prize them, covet them. Pray, my dear friend, that I may ' live more nearly as I pray ' and preach, that I may tread warily in slippery places, and hold myself as a child of God without rebuke, and that it may please God to favour me with a fearless experience and an end of triumph at last." Another movement in which Mr. Punshon took great interest was that of the Union of the different branches of the Methodist Church. In the readjust- ment of relations with the parent Church in England, it was of great advantage that one so familiar with English Methodism and so influential in her councils 332 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xii. should be at the head of the Canadian Church. It was not till the year 1874, the year after Mr. Punshon's departure from Canada, that the first Union took effect, but he was actively concerned in the previous negotiations which led to that Union. The Union of 1874 was of the Wesleyan Methodist Conference of Canada, the Wesleyan New Connexion Conference, and the Wesleyan Conference of Eastern British America. This was followed in the year 1883 by a further Union of the Methodist Church of Canada, the Methodist Episcopal Chm-ch of Canada, the Bible Christian Church, and the Primitive Methodist Church. Thus was founded the present Canadian Methodist Church, into which all the Methodists of British America are gathered in one National Methodist Church of ten Conferences, 1,628 ministers, and a spiritual charge of some 800,000 souls, the largest Protestant Church in the Dominion. The mission to Japan, established by the Methodist Church of Canada, was due mainly to the interest and exertions of Mr. Punshon. In this enterprise he was in advance of some Canadians. The Dominion of Canada, stretching from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from the St. Lawrence to the North Pole — literally a " dominion from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth " — this land with all its various peoples, English, French, and Aborigines, and immigrants from all the countries of Europe, gave scope enough, some thought, for missionary effort, but others gave a cordial support to the pro- ject of Mr. Punshon to do no less but rather more for our missions in the Dominion, and at the same time send some messenger of salvation to the nations 1 870.] PLEA FOR MISSIONS. 333 beyond, and to the millions of Japan. The larger enterprise prevailed, and the members of the Metho- dist Church gave, and still give, their hearty support to the Japan mission, and encourage a zeal that dares to cross an ocean as well as a continent, to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ. We give here an example of his pleading for foreign missions. It will clearly show his own attitude towards that work, and it will further be of interest, as an illustration of his earnestness in the Master's service, at the very time when he was in the agony of domestic bereavement, his nights of weeping being followed by days of toil. " It is high time that Canadian Methodism was represented in the foreign field. As Manitoba has become a Canadian province, and British Columbia will be one shortly, we shall soon be without any foreign mission. It would be a reproach if we should long remain without one. There is room in China, in Japan, in Italy, where the chains of centuries are being broken — in Palestine, the land of that ancient race whose children have so many claims upon us — there is room in Spain, over whose long night the morn of light and liberty is breaking. Such an enterprise would quicken the energy and develop the liberality of the Church." . . . " God takes care at some time or other to let developing circumstances touch every human life. Circumstances apparently dark and discouraging may be charged with the grandest purpose, as the darkest cloud with the most brilliant flashes of lightning. . . . The greatest cause of apprehension to the missionary enterprise is not opposition, but indifference. This is the chief source of peril and failure. If Laodicea be the type of the Churches, no wonder the world sneers and perishes. If our rehgion be clad in silken sheen, a patronised and fashionable thing — a sort of ai-morial bearing for which men pay small duty either to God or man — is it any wonder that men are heedless, or fall into the drowsy monotony in which the messengers dream away their lives ? The poison-trees in the field are but little harmful. They are uprooted as soon as they are found out. The barren trees which cumber the ground and mock the delusive hope of the husbandman are the curses of the vineyard and the field. " But if we are idlers we shall be the only idlers in the universe. Everything around us rebukes our lukewai-m and traditional piety. 334 JV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap, xii Nature is in earnest. Pagans are self -devoting. Mohammedanism has resolute and valiant sons. Popery compasses sea and land to make her proselytes. Infidels walk warily and constantly, scattering the seeds of unbelief. Society is in earnest. The sons of enterprise do not slumber. Warriors hail the clarion and rush eagerly to the war. Students consume the oil of the lamp and the oil of life together. Mammon's votaries are not the laggards in the streets. All these forces are lashed into unwonted activity, and while we (God forgive us !), with the noblest work to do, and with the most royal facilities for doing it — with the obligation of duty, and gratitude, and brotherhood, and God's command — with the vows of dis- cipleship upon us, with death at our doors and in our homes, and the sad wail of the perishing multitudes sounding in our ears, ' No one hath cared for my soul,' — are heedless, indifferent, exclusive, and most of all, as satisfied with our scanty efforts, as if no heathen were in peril, and as if no Christ had died." In yet another department of Church 'work Mr. Punshon rendered timely and vakiable service, viz. in the increased endowment of Victoria College. In the early days of irresponsible government, kno-wn in Canada as the time of the Family Compact, the con- trol of the Provincial University had been given to the Episcopalian Church. Kather than submit to this, the Methodists and Presbyterians founded in- dependent universities under royal charter. These schools were free from all sectarian tests. The Methodist school was founded in 1832 at Cobourg, under the name of Upper Canada Academy, and in the year 1841 it obtained university power under the name of Victoria College. In 1849 the Provincial University, King's College, passed from the control of the Episcopalians and was changed into a purely secular institution under the name of the University of Toronto. In the meantime Victoria College and Queen's College had won an important place in the country. Moreover, the purely secular character of the reorganised Provincial University was only less i87o.] VICTORIA UNIVERSITY. 335 objectiouable than was the sectarian character of the school in its early form. The Methodists and Pres- byterians continued therefore to support the colleges they had founded, and their voluntary efforts were supplemented by annual grants from the Legislature. In 1868 these grants were suddenly withdrawn ; but the result was far from what may have been expected and intended — the crippling of the denominational colleges. Additional endowments were raised by Methodists and Presbyterians. Into this movement Mr. Punshon threw himself with great earnestness, and in a short time endowments were secured which more than made up for the loss of the grants from the provincial treasury. Victoria University is also indebted to Mr. Pun- shon for his interest in the establishment of a theolo- gical faculty, the first chair of which was endowed by the late Edward Jackson, of Hamilton. His advocacy was also given to the establishment in the city of Montreal of the Wesleyan Theological College, to be affiliated to Victoria University. This review of Mr. Punshon's work in Canada may close with the following conversation between Sir William M'Arthur of London, and Mr. John Mac- donald of Toronto — two worthy sons of the Metho- dist Church. Sir William. " Well, what did Mr. Punshon do for you when he was out here " [in Canada]. Mr. Macdonald. " Do for us ? Why he pushed us on half a century." There may be something of poetry in these expres- sive and generous words, but they honour the speaker as well as the man of whom he was speaking, and 336 JV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xii. they fairly represent the grateful recollections of the Methodist Church of Canada. Whether Dr. Punshon chiefly excelled as preacher or as lecturer, has been matter of dispute, and there may well be difference of opinion on the point. Moreover, he never ceased to be a preacher, calling men to higher thinking and nobler living, and his hearers never failed to realise that his aim was not rhetoric but righteousness. Besides this general tendency of his lecturing, there was a special help- giving to Christian charity and unity by his lectures, in that thej^ brought together people of all the Churches and of no Church in the common worship of the true, the beautiful, and the good. People whose duties or whose prejudices would not allow them to attend the Methodist Church on Sunday might often be found on the Monday with one accord in one place — bishop and priest, presbyter and pastor, believer and imbehever — all under the spell of the Methodist preacher. Attracted at first by the brilliancy of his imagination and the charm and force of his utterance, they were kindled sooner or later by the quickening warmth of his de- votion to God and to the right. Men who look into each other's faces as they break bread together at such a spiritual feast can hardly know again the bitterness of enmity they may have felt before. A stranger walking along the Strand some years ago saw the people streaming into Exeter Hall. He asked a young man who stood by, what was the occasion of the gathering, and for answer was referred to a bill which announced that the Rev. William Morley Punshon was that day to deliver a lecture in 1870.] INFLUENCE OF LECTURES. 337 Exeter Hall. The stranger's reflections found utter- ance in the irreverent words, " It is only one of those d — d Methodist preachers.'' He acted, however, on the suggestion of the young man, and they both went in to hear what the babbler had to say. The lecturer at once arrested the stranger's attention. Very soon the subject became interesting, and then exciting, and at last the man who had entered the Hall with words of contempt on his lips was seen to vie with the most enthusiastic in applause. From time to time his young companion interrupted his demonstrations by quoting the words with which he had entered the building. On leaving the Hall the gentleman thanked the young man for directions and corrections received, frankly acknow- ledged the grossness and ignorance of his first mis- judgment, and expressed the purpose of hearing more of the Methodist preachers for the future. The young man, who was the son— and at that time the way- ward son — of a Methodist preacher, is now a promin- ent minister in the Canadian Conference. This extreme case represents a widespread work of con- ciliation accomplished by Dr. Punshon. Such work is accomplished by the good men of all parties in touching the deeper, better nature that makes the whole world kin, and raises men above the national, social, and sectarian conceits that are so dear to intense but narrow minds. It may interest some readers to hear how the New World appreciated the Old World preacher and orator. At the risk, therefore, of some little repetition, the following quotations are made from Canadian and American journals that represent the voice of the 22 338 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xii. people. These criticisms are none the less valuable because they note the limitations as well as the ex- cellencies of the speaker, " His voice is very fine. If you observe closely, it is a little husky, yet for all that remarkably pleasant. The thing that strikes you first in his speaking is his enunciation ; you never heard it excelled. It is beautiful ; you scarcely lose a syllable of a whole lecture. Every word is finished before another is touched. Every minutest sound is as clear cut as if it were uttered alone. And yet there is no appearance of effort to make it so. Each syllable is a distinct silvery drop, and yet the whole is a stream, smooth-flowing, unbroken. " The next thing that strikes you is the close linking of sentence with sentence, and thought with thought. There is no fragment. Every part is a link. The whole is a chain, and a chain of wondrous beauty It seems to you as if no other possible sentence could join itself with the preceding one as perfectly as that chosen, and that no thought could possibly be changed in position or form, or have another substituted for it without loss. There is vast difference in orators in this respect. Some oratory is beautiful, powerful, but fragmentary in its make up, concrete, conglomerate. Mr. Punshon's, at least as far as its word and sentence structure is concerned, is not so. An oration of his is an organism (to repeat a figure already used), a chain, or best of all a stream. The first word he utters is the beginning of a current. Every succeeding word augments that current. Before you are aware he has drawn you in ; and, once in, there is no stop for you until the orator stops. Here is Mr. Pun- shon's power. It is a subtle power, an unaccountable power, but it is very great. Many orators are profounder than Punshon : many more edifying, many more startling, many more powerful in moving the deeper feelings of one's nature, many richer in wit and humour, many nearly or quite as fertile even in beautiful illustrations, and flashing figures, and brilliant passages ; but no one before the English-speaking world of to-day ciin stand up in the presence of an audience and so easily, so entirely without the appearance of an effort, launch them upon a strain of eloquence, at once so quiet and yet so varied, so rapid, so absolutely enchanting. . . . All is change, all is movement, but all is harmony. There is no delay. On, on we are borne, without time even to take breath. No sooner does the curtain fall upon one scene than it rises upon another. Or more accurately, the curtain never falls at all ; for the whole oration is a con- stantly moving panorama or a series of dissolving views — each picture melting marvellously but beautifully into its successor. . . . " One of the most remarkable things in the orations of Mr. Punshon is the groat number and variety of his quotations. Nor are they mere i87o.] MEN OF THE MAYFLOWER. 339 externals added for tawdry ornament. They are polished stones wronght into tlie mosaic of the structure itself. All literature has seemingly been laid under tribute to produce them, — ancient and modern, English and Continental, prose and poetry. If nowhere does the breadth and richness of the orator's culture appear more plainly than here, neither does his genius shine out anywhere more conspicuously. Nothing is more difficult than to use quotations well. In nothing is it more easy or more common to bungle. None but a master workman is fit to attempt mosaics, but Dr. Puashon is a master workman, and here if nowhere else he proves it." The lecture on the Me7i of the Mayfloioer, pre- pared in America, ilhistrates very well the style and the aim of Dr. Punshon. It was not his object to discover new facts concerning the Pilgrim Fathers. He did not seek to bring together the dry bones of the past ; but, that being done by the historian and antiquarian, he breathed upon the dry bones, and they became living men, — living with such intensity of life as to quicken the pulse, and fire the heart, and strengthen the will of the men of to-day. As the skill of the modern surgeon sometimes restores the ebbing life of a sick man by filling his veins with the warm rich blood transfused fi'om a man in health and vigour, so by the magic of his art did the lecturer and moralist transfuse the strong pure currents of spiritual life and energy from the Men of the Mayflower into weaker souls, making them strong to do and dare for God and for the right. Accordingly an American critic writes in a New York Paper : — " Can a man say anything new about the Puritan settlers of New England ? This question we should readily answer in the negative had we not heard the lecture of last evening. The theme is perfectly familiar, its smallest details have been forced upon our attention from childhood, and it would seem impossible for a speaker, no matter how gifted, to interest an audience in the subject. In saying that Dr. Punshon did this, we certainly award him great praise. But the lecturer did 340 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xii. more than interest, he excited a glow of enthusiasm, aroused every feeling of pity, admiration and regard for the Pilgrim Fathers, whose history was sketched with a descriptive power nothing short of wonderful. He has a voice powerful and flexible. When fairly launched upon his subject, he forces his way ahead with resistless power, and almost compels you to listen, even when the events narrated are older than a thrice told tale. His figiirative language is bold and strong always, and at times original. His forte is the portraiture of character, and conscious of his ability in this direction he introduces descriptions of men often, and never without effect." In addition to these observations, a further pecu- liarity of Dr. Punshon's eloquence may be noted, viz. its extraordinary power to move men. It was often seen that whilst the countenances of the women expressed a genuine, but for the most part, only a placid admiration, the men were so intensely moved that they could not refi-ain from shouting and from tears. Was it because the speaker was himself one of the most manly of men, and that his presentation of the religion of the Son of man gave some new emphasis to the masculine virtues of truthfulness and honour, of courage and generosity, as well as to the more feminine graces of patience, and pity, and sympathy, and love ? CHAPTER XIII. 1870— 1871. CANADA. Aged AQ, 47. Death of Mrs. Punshon. — Journal. — Letters. — Travels. — Journey to the Far West. — Salt Lake City. — Mormonism. — California. — Vancouver Island.— Yo Semite Valley. In tiie midst of the labours and successes of his public life, and of unbroken domestic happiness, his home was suddenly bereft and darkened by an overwhelming calamity. On September 23rd, 1870, Mrs. Punshon died, after an illness of only a few hours. Journal. "September 2Uh, 1870. — How shall I set down the awful experience of a week which has changed the whole aspect of the future ? I am bereft. ... I am bereft . . . stricken fi-om the height of happiness and hope to the depth of a darkness which only God can enlighten, which only God can enable me to bear. . . . The desire of mine eyes is taken away at a stroke. Oh, my God, my God, I believe that in faithfulness Thou hast afflicted me . . . but, the sense of loneliness and sorrow ! I grieve, I wonder, but I do not rebel. . . . " The friends are all very kind, and seem to feel the dear one's removal as an individual loss, for such was her sweetness of manner and un- pretentious goodness, that she was loved wherever she was known. ... I can say under the stroke, ' It is the Lord,' and there I rest, I must wait for more gi-ace to get further. ' Thy waves and Thy billows are gone over me, 0 Lord ! ' but they are TJiy waves, and I must lie and let them sweep — waiting till Thou shalt tell me, in the fulness of a clearer vision, zvhy they sweep over me. ..." 342 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xii. " September 26th, 1870. — Yesterday the ' bonnie dust ' was committed to the crypt in the Necropolis, amidst gazing thousands — as large a private funeral as has ever been seen in Toronto. Testimonies of respect, sym- pathy, condolence, strong love for the departed, and lasting good effected by her example, crowd upon me. Had a remarkable approach to God in prayer, whilst struggling hard for submission and trust, just before the funeral. That still hour was one of unutterable peace. Some pangs of terrible loneliness to-day, but keeping hold of God. He holds me up. Had a telegram from dear Gervase, in answer to our message on Sunday morning. ..." " October '2nd, 1870. — I am a marvel to myself, but the grace of God is all powerful. I have been saved in my deep distress from the shadow of a rebellious thought, and have had a more realising faith than for long before. ..." " October loth, 1870. — I have this day committed my precious dust to the God's acre, where it shall await 'the adoption.' Very beautiful was the landscape to-day, gorgeous, and full of hope, the dying trees in their robes of scarlet and gold. It was impossible for it to be all hopelessness and sorrow. . . . " On October 3rd I went down to Cobourg for a little change of scene. Last Sunday I was strengthened to resume work, and preached at Port Hope, lecturing on Monday evening, and presiding at the Missionary Committee for three following days — days of toil, and nights of wcoping. Almost overthrown in the midst of it by the reception of my first English letters since my calamity. To the praise of the Divine glory I state that I have not yet rebelled — though unutterably lonely and sad, I will, can, do praise God through it all. ..." ''November Vlth, 1870. — The wherefore of the gi-eat mystery just as dark as ever, and, perhaps, as it will always remain in time, but my God strengthens me for work and worship through it all. A hard week through the back woods — over dreadful roads, and in inhospitable weather, but work is my diversion from a brooding which might become anguish." Letter to E. D . " November 25th, 1870. " My days are filled with honest work, and incessant, fatiguing travel ; a heaving of the heart as it turns homeward ; a pretty constant trust in God ; a restless longing for a sight of friends at home ; a mourning over inactive or uncompleted things which yet I find no time to do ; a doxology for family mercies yet remaining ; a wonder what I shall do when the blithe child, my eldest, sanctified by this sorrow into a very woman of truth and purity, goes off to another's home ; a yearning over my sons ... an intense desire that not a shred of the intended benefit of this great sorrow may be lost out of my own heart ; a more sympathetic 1870.] BEREAVEMENT AND SORROW. 343 rc mcmbrauce of other afflicted cues ; a sense of flagging power aud failing strength which warns me that the struggle is an unequal one, and that I must soon stop and rest, or be in the gi'asp of the old giant, who, four yeai-s ago, locked me up in his dungeon, with shattered nerves and super- sensitive brain." Journal. Deccinher 2\th, 1870. — The approach of Christmas, usually such a joyous season in our home, has brought vividly before me my loss. I am striving, however, to be unselfish through it all, that in the sight of others ' My darkened ways may fill with music all the same.' ..." The following tribute to the memory of the one he mourned, appeared in the Toronto Christian Guardian. It is written by a friendly, but not a flattering hand : — " It is with unspeakable sorrow that we announce the sudden death on last Friday afternoon, of one so widely known and warmly esteemed as Mrs. Punshon, the beloved wife of the honoured President of our Con- ference. Seldom has the announcement of any death startled and shocked a wider circle of admiring friends or awakened more general emotions of profound sorrow and regret. . . . " A little more than two years ago she came to Canada, a stranger to us all. In that short period, few have ever won a wider circle of attached friends. In this city and throughout the country there is many a family over which her death will throw a deep shadow, and be felt as that of a near friend. Her kindly interest in the welfare of others, her sunny and cheerful disposition, her earnest sympathy with every good work and her Christian simplicity and frankness of spirit, secured for her the loving admiration of all who had the privilege of her acquaintance. Nothing has been more remarkable in her character during her residence among us, than the warm and earnest practical interest she took in every good enterprise, whether in her own Church or out of it. Coming as a stranger to Canada, severing the ties which bound her to the old land and its interests, it would not have been strange if she had found it difiicult to feel the same interest in our Canadian affairs, that she had felt in the land where her whole previous life had been spent. But she seemed at once to give a place in her sympathy to every undertaking that had for its object the welfare of man and the glory of God. ... In the meridian of her womanly strength and beauty, in the midst of her Clu-istiau influence, happy in the love of her husband and family, every outward circum- stance bright with promise for the future, and just as her happy life 344 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xni. seemed about to be crowned with the richer ijoy of motlierhood, Death laid his cold hand upon her beating heart, and it is stilled for ever. Her cheerful smUe can no more carry sunshine into the circles where she was welcomed. Her willing hand has lost its cunning to relieve the needy and suffering. Her earnest example can now only stimulate by being remembered. ' Her sun has gone down while it is yet day.' " Mr. Punshon's taste for travel was abundantly gratified in the discharge of his duties as President of the Canadian Conference, visiting, as he did, all parts of Canada, from the Atlantic to the Pacific. And further, in response to calls from the Churches and invitations to lecture, he saw the great cities of the United States, and became familiar with that vast country, from Maine to California, and from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico. In his journeyings he was everywhere recognised by old English friends, a fact that illustrates the wide and rapid diffusion of the Britisli race in our day. In the remote settlements of Canada, in the crowded thoroughfares of New York and New Orleans, on the slopes of the Pacific, and in the wild North-west, everywhere he was greeted with joy by men and women who knew him in the Old Land, or, as they say in America, ** At Home." Many had heard him preach and lecture, others had been members of his Bible-classes, some he had married, and others had been in the service of his family. An old school- mate is found in a professor in a Canadian University, and in the wife of a well-to-do Canadian farmer he discovers again the faithful attendant who had taught him his letters and had closed his mother's eyes in death. In Cincinnati he meets with American cousins bearing his own name. With the help of extracts from letters and journals 1870.] MEN AND THINGS. 345 we may follow him on some of his journeys, look with his eyes on men and things in the New World, and learn how he was influenced or, to use his own word, educated, by what he saw. To M. F — . " Detroit, Mich., U.S., January 2bth, 18G9. " This is a city of about eighty-thousand inhabitants, just across the border from Canada. I lectured on Friday and preached yesterday in one of the most beautiful Methodist churches in the world. They certainly know how to build on this side the water. I suppose I must have had two thousand two hundred people yesterday morning. We travelled from Hamilton to Chicago, nearly five hundred miles, in a hotel car. We were in it from half -past two on Monday to ten on Tuesday morning. "We had a state-room, with crimson velvet sofa and arm-chairs, lamps and candles to read by, bed to sleep on at night, dinner and tea served and cooked well, at command. . . . On the last Sabbath in February (d.v.^ I am to assist in the dedication of the new Metropolitan Church in Washington. I am to lecture at Columbus, Ohio, twice at Baltimore, in Maryland ; and in the capital on the following Tuesday General Grant is to be inaugurated President of the United States, so we hope to witness the ceremony. To-night I am to be in Windsor, Wednes- day in Tarnier, Friday in Toronto, lecturing for the Boys' Home. I have work enough, and a little too much, but this is the time for it." To The Methodist "Recorder." "Your exchanges will have informed you of the proceedings at the dedication of the new Metropolitan Church, of which the President and the Chief Justice are trustees. It is a beautiful building, a worthy repre- sentative of Methodism in the legislative capital of the country. Dr. Newman, the newly appointed pastor, has just been elected chaplain to the Senate. The keystone to the arch over the pulpit is from Solomon's Temple, the panels of the pulpit are of wood from the Garden of Gethsemane, the caps of the posts from the Mount of Olives, etc. Some iconoclasts have risen up in anger against these, as if they tended to superstition or to popery. Sooth to say, the danger in America does not lie in this direction at all. Phrenologically speaking, the American has a finely developed head, but I have sometimes thought that where the organ of veneration should be there must be a perfect hollow. There is an infinitesimal reverence for sacred places, days, and things. I have seen the hat worn almost up to the altar, the newspaper read during the sermon, the reporter writing his leading article during the minister's 346 IV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. XiII. prayer. I should rather welcome than rebuke anything that would have a tendency to increase the national reverence. . . . Time-honoured, more- over, as the American practice of raising money for the Churches on the Sabbath has become, and gi-eat as may have been its success, I should like to see it buried in ' the tomb of the Capulets,' and I should feel as I followed its funeral that a sworn foe to the higher interests of the Chm-ches lay there interred. We spent eight hours in the Metropolitan Church on the day of dedication ; five in the house of God, and three in the house of merchandise, that is five hours were spent in worship, and tliree in raising money. Bishop Simpson's was an enrapturing sermon ; Dr. Eddy's was a masterly argument for the truth, pressed home by a searching application at the close ; but in ten minutes the effect of both was marred to me by the earnest, humorous, sarcastic, pertinacious appeals for money. Still this is but a spot upon the sun ; and through this boundless continent the sun of Methodism does shine with a steady radiance which gives every prospect that it wiU brighten and broaden into noon." To THE Rev. Tiios. M'Cullachi. " Toronto, March 30th, 1869. "... We are just now in our hideous transition state between winter and spring. The thaw has sent the frost flying, and the snow is melting so rapidly that the freshets in the rivers are sources of consider- able danger. Last week I rode eighty miles in a sleigh up to Owen Sound on the Georgian Bay, which is a hollow arm of Luke Huron, and my face was almost blistered by the combined influence of keen wind and fierce sun. ... I have had a busy and happy winter of it, working incessantly. The Recorder letter will have told, ere this comes to hand, something of our recent visit to the legislative capital of the States. I enjoyed it immensely, and have increased my stock of know- ledge of American habits and tendencies by the journey. They are a wonderful people and worth a long study I never saw so much irre- verence mixed with so much devotion as at the dedication of the Metro- politan Church in Washington. Grant, Colfax, Chief Justice Chase, and a host of Senators and Congressmen were present at the opening service. . . . There is a mighty field for a man to work in the States. The con- gregations are impressible and intelligent, and the Methodists, being the leading Church in the States, have great influence. I have had offers from Chicago, Cinciiniati, and a very tempting one from New York— but 1 am heart-whole yet, and if niy connection with Britisii Methodism is to be severed, it shall not be by my liands. I hope we shall have a good in- crease this year. Our preachers are devoted men, some of them cjipital preachers (we want giants, liowcver), all of them trained to expect a present blessing. Hence there have been many revivals. ... It was a pleasure to THE FAR WEST. 347 nil) to be pi-cseiit in Wasliiiigton on Inauguration Day. On the day provious, the two Fannies and I had an interview with Genei'al Grant at his head- quarters. . . . Altogether, my visit let me into the inner life of politics in America as I had not seen it before. ..." Mr. Punshon's most extensive journey in America was that to the Pacific coast, in the spring of 1871. He went out to A'isit the missions established by the Canadian Church, lecturing on the way to meet ex- penses of his journey, and to secure a sum of money for a private charity to which his heart was drawn. In prospect of the journey he writes, " It seems an arduous journey, and I shrink from it ; but it is my duty, and maybe, in retrospect, a very high pleasure." And in the retrospect, he says in addressing the Conference — ■ " I trust that my visit to the far West has not been without some benefit to the Church, whose messenger I have been. It will be my own fault and because I am slow of heart to receive impressions of improve- ment, if I have not returned from it a wiser and a better man. I feel a more wholesome love of the gospel, for I have seen the monstrous evils which arise from the perverted moral sense of those who have gi'afted strange doctrines upon it. I have learnt to prize more highly than ever the blessings of our holy Christianity, having had personal observation of both refined and rude paganisms as they are. I have a firmer faith than ever in the old, old gospel, and in the missionary work of the Churches, because that in the midst of paganism in its most besotted and unworthy forms, I have seen those whom it has rescued and saved." To HIS Daughter. "Omaha, Neb., March. 23)t7, 1871. " My own dear child, — Many thanks for the thoughtf ulness which prompted the sending of the telegi'am. It reached us after we were seated in the train at Chicago, and rejoiced us greatly. We had a pleasant journey all day yesterday ; very cold while we were crossing the Missis- sippi river ; saw clouds of blackbirds, some prairie hens, a hawk, snow- birds, and a prairie on fire. . . . We have just crossed the Missouri river and are at this wonderful place, with 14,0U0 inhabitants where, a while ago 348 JV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xiii. there was hardly anything but desert. The Missouri is a poor, miserable, yellow-looking stream here. . . . The sight of the prairies of Iowa is something wonderful, but becomes tiresome after a while. It is like being at sea. ..." To THE Same. " The Great Prairie, Antelope Station, Friday Morning. " We have so far had a very pleasant journey, my dearest child, and at an elevation of 4,000 feet, 954 miles from Chicago, I will write a line in hope that the train which we expect to meet at Cheyenne may speed it sooner to you than if I waited until we had a resting-place more stable. ... I suppose the journey would by some people be deemed monoton- ous, but to us it comes with the freshness of a host of new sensations. The Illinois and Iowa prairies are nothing to these Nebraska ones. I never realised on those the idea of an ocean, but it is impossible here to avoid the thought that you are at sea. We have travelled for two hun- dred miles, I may say with truth, without the sight of a tree ! — and the sensation of vastness and sublimity presented by the boundlessness of the open plain cannot be surpassed of its kind. . . . We have seen all the things proper to be seen — prairie dogs, funny little fellows, prairie hens, hawks, herds of antelopes, one of them so close to the train that it could have been sliot. . . ." To the Same. "Bryan Station, Rocky Mountains, Saturday, March 2bth, 1871 Another day has whirled us farther and still farther awiiy. . . . The skies are cloudless and the air marvellously pure. We have the usual motley description of fellow passengers — a man and wife with four children, tlie youngest a S(}ualling baby ; five or six oilmen, full of cards, champagne, and slang ; an old teamster, who travelled this road by wagon, now taking his young wife across ; five nuns from Montreal, en route to found a sisterhood in California ; and three young Japanese with their guide, philosopher and friend. On the whole we get on very well, and I am !iot too much tired, though we liave now come 870 miles from Omaha. I have occupied one seat by day and berth by night during all that time. Shortly after mailing my letter of yesterday, we climbed up to the highest point on the road, Sherman, 8,235 feet above the level of the sea. The country is very uninteresting and mostly desert. As I write, nothing but the dreariest prospect is seen from the windows, the Wahsatch range of mountains capped with snow being the only redeeming feature. ... It seems a wonderful thing to have been all this time travel- ling, and to be still a thousand miles from tiie cud of the continent, and from the end of our journey, but so it is. . . . i87i.] SALT LAKE CITY. 349 To THE Same. " Salt Lake City, Sunday Afternoon, March 26//;, 1871. " It is a brilliant day, the sky is cloudless and blue like that of Italy. We have twice attended service in the Mormon tabernacle, and this after- noon have heard Orson Pratt, their best man. The large tabernacle is not in use. It will hold 13,000 people. The small one contains 3,000 comfort- ably and was quite filled. They were singing as we went in this morning, ' God moves in a mysterious way,' to the tune of ' Coronation.' " From Notes of Tr.wel. " The tabernacle was quite full. The men and women sit apart. It was an interesting study to watch the countenances of the congregation. There were some, indeed, the expression of whose faces was decidedly benevolent, though an irresolution about the mouth betrayed the latent weakness of will, which would make them passive instruments under the leadership of a crafty brain, if the owner of it claimed to be inspired. The women were decidedly homely, and for the most part stolid, as if they carried a dead past about with them, but had become so accustomed to it as not to know that it was dead. Presently a stout, farmer-looking man, verging upon sixty, rose, divested himself leisurely of his overcoat, and began to preach. No text formed the basis of his discourse, but it was a lengthened exposition of the doctrines of the Church of Latter Day Saints established by Joe Smith. ... At the expiration of an hour we wended our way again to the tabernacle. Bread and water were on the bishop's table, which were severally blessed and handed round without discrimination to all present who chose to partake. This is the Mormon sacrament. Then a well-knit man, with an intellectual face, long grey beard, sonorous voice, and not ungraceful action, began to speak. This was Orson Pratt, the great gun of the Mormons as a public speaker. He took his text from Isaiah xl. 1 — 3. ' Comfort ye, comfort ye My people, saith your God,' etc. He began by a description of the apostasy of the Jews, and argued that the curse would rest upon them until the times of the Gentiles were f ufilled. He proceeded to argue that these times were in course of fulfilment, that the angel had made the revelation of the gospel to Joseph Smith, and that the labours of Mormon missionaries had given almost every man his chance, they preaching ' for a witness ' unto all people ; and that shortly, he did not exactly know the time, but ' you young men will see it,' addressing those on his right, when the ' ensign ' of which the prophet spoke would be set ' upon a hill ' in the neighbourhood of Salt Lake City, and they would have to gather thither the ' dispersed of Judah ' while the poor Gentiles were left to uncovenanted mercy. He then launched out into a rhapsody on the Pacific Railway as a fulfilment of Isaiah's prophecy, ' Prepare ye the way for the people.' Had they not done that when they came through 350 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xiii. the desert with ox-teams and mule carts and wheelbarrows '? ' Cast up the highway.' What was that but the great Pacific Raih-oad ? They had gathered out the stones in the rugged mountain, and prepared two hundred miles of ' way for the ransomed to pass over.' ' Go through the gates.' I wonder, he said, that Isaiah understood this matter so well. He could not if he had not been inspired. What are these gates but ' tunnels ' ? The people were to come ' with speed.' Did not that speak of the express train, in contrast with the ox-cart of the former time ? Then the Messiah would come in power, and His glory should be revealed on these mountains of the West, and ' all flesh should see it together.' The elders, who, by the way, looked as unlike seventy celestials as could well be conceived, responded assentingly at intervals, and probably felt the thrill of a new sensation as they heard of prophecy fulfilling itself in their ungainly forms. They and the men generally appeai'ed to regard his exposition as masterly. The women never moved a muscle, but were stolid and expressionless, as I had heard them described. "We obtained admittance to the lai'ge tabernacle, 250 feet long by \'^\) wide, and 60 feet from floor to ceiling. It is a huge building with a roof like a dish cover, of a single span, supported by 46 pillars. It is said by Mormon measurement to seat 13,000 people, but perhaps 8,000 would be nearer the mark. ... In the evening I preached in the ' upper room ' to a large and motley congi'egation of about 300 persons, the strangest gathering I ever addressed, and assembled in the strangest place, and amid the most marvellous surroundings. There were Methodists, Mormons, Mormonesses, Apostate Mormons, Josephites, Godbeites, the chief justice, the colonel commanding at the camp, and a large number of United States officers. Among the congregation was Oi-son Pratts first wife, a pale, crushed woman, out of whose heart the joy of life had been trampled by the system, and wlio has lived ' apart ' for some year? rather than sanction by her presence the invasion of her home ; and I also met and shook hands with several who had heard me in England, and who are now under the shadow of this dark imposture. The minister in charge, who offered prayer, asked the Lord ' to take the l-hil-s out of our nature.' It is to be hoped the desire was accepted in spite of the expression. . . . We were wearied with the day's exercises, and retired to rest convinced that there are many things connected with this marvellous deception of Mormonism that are worthy of being thought out at length. It may not be hastily dismissed as a vulgar imposture. It is a crafty and powerful lie, and the fanaticism which it kindles in its votaries has in it a spurious chivalry akin to that which dwelt in the crusaders of old. " March '2dt/i. — During the night we crossed into the El Dorado State, the State of Calif oriiki. . . . According to one of our party we went through twenty-seven snow sheds on the Rocky Mountain, and twenty- i87i.] CALIFORNIA. 351 nine on the Sierras. The summits of the Sierras arc not barren like the Rocky Mountains, but covered with rich forests of pine. Shortly before reaching the highest point on the line we entered what seemed the very patriarcii of snow-sheds. We waited with considerable patience for the end of it, that we might be rewarded by a glimpse of Sierra scenery, when the conductor happened to pass through the car. ' How long is this snow- shed ? ' was the question. Fancy our dismay when the answer came, ' Thirty-seven milea ! ' "We subsided, and then appeared a very general impression that the scenery which we could not see was not so very grand after all. These snow-sheds, which are necessary for the safety of the journey, detract very much from the pleasure of it. From Elko to the Emigrant Gap, a distance of some 380 miles, much of the scenery is hidden by these envious but useful appendages. They are necessary to keep the track clear from avalanches in the winter and spring, and have been erected at a cost of $10,000 per mile. . . . " At Blue Canyon we look down into a deceitful depth which reminded me of the Cardinelli on the Splugen, and then there is a momentary gasp of fear and rapture as we realise the sensation of the journey, the round- ing of Cape Horn, where from the brink of a precipice, out of which the road has been cut, we look down within a yard of the edge iipon a chasm of 2,500 feet, which dwarfs the American river at the foot of it into a small thread of silver. In rounding Cape Horn we travel three miles to secure half a mile's advance. . . . Whirling along in our zig-zag track, we follow bright streams of water used in ' placer ' mining, see hardy miners with their ' pipes ' playing and tearing down the moun- tains in search of the shining dust. Acres upon acres have been subjected to this hydraulic cruelty, and the mountain streams are all muddy and troubled by the dirt thus injected into their channels. Now come the foot hills of the mountains, bright with their manzanita garment — a shrub very like the arbutus at Killarney — with shining leaves and clusters of pink and white blossoms, and then we sweep down into the Sacramento valley, to find the country green as an emerald, the almond and the peach in blossom, the spring flowers dotting the meadows, and the earth smiling with the promise of plenty, having passed in two short hours from the region of snow and the barrenness of winter to the bloom and the beauty of spring. . . . The train sped along, through meadows besprent with flowers, lupin and buttercup and larkspur, which made my pulse beat quickly with memories of home. The flora of California is far more like that of dear old England than of the States. . . . By-and-by we ran over the long bridge at Oaklands, the aristocratic suburb, were met by Dr. Cox, the Rev. 0. Gibson, and some lay friends, and crossed the magnificent bay, where all the navies of the world could anchor. There is San Francisco, the queen city of the Pacific, and yonder is the Golden Gate, with the purple glory of the sunset bringing its glory into relief." 352 W. MO RLE Y PUNSHON. [chap. XIII. To HIS Daughter. " San Francisco, April 1st, 1871. " . . . In the evening of Thursday we went up the bay by steam to Vallejo and thence by rail to Calistoga, where our party occupied a cottage that had three beds in it. It is the Saratoga of the Pacific Coast, and the hotel has seventeen cottages built round it for families in the summer. . . . Yesterday morning at six we started to see the Geysers. ... It is wonder- ful to see once, but as much like one's ideas of the place of torment as you could wish to see. But the drive ! Oh the drive ! I cannot describe it. I never had such an excitement in nuj life. The first eighteen miles we were driven in an open wagon by Mr. Connelly, a very good driver, who handled his four horses well. The scenery English and very beautiful, winding through gorges and canyons, crossing streams, etc., and stiU getting higher. At Foss Station we were delivered over into the hands of Foss, the champion driver of the world, who was to take us the remaining twelve miles and back in a coach and six horses. Foss is a fine, manly, handsome fellow, of about fifty years of age, six feet one inch high in his boots, and weighing two hundred and fifty pounds. Such driving I never saw nor expect to see again." From Notes of Travel. " March Zlst. — With all the despotism of an autocrat, Foss told us the hours we were to observe, and the rules for successful and enjoyable riding. We were not long in discovering that besides his physical qualities he had mental and moral ones ; inimitable coolness, shrewd mother-wit, great power of nerve and will, and a lawless and primitive sense of natural justice. We soon made the acquaintance of his team, of which he makes companions — ' John ' and ' Ned,' the well-trained and highly educated ' leaders,' ' Heenan ' and ' Limber Jem,' the ' swing ; ' the Latter started ofE so rampant that Foss told him in words which he could not fail to under- stand (for he says they know his talk if it isn't good), that he would come back like a sick cat ; — and ' Hemingway ' and ' Jeff Davis,' the ' wheelers' ; — the latter, as might be supposed, a reconstructed rebel, who had been re- claimed only a week before, and who certainly justified the amnesty, for he worked in his new sphere obediently, gamely, and well. But how shiill pen describe the ever-growing interest and excitement of that wonderful ride ! When the first steep place came, like the people whom Mark Twain met in the steam boat, we had an attack of the ' Oh ! My ! ' com- plaint. Foss turned round and almost indignantly declared himself to be a perfectly safe driver, — ' the biggest coward that ever pulled a rein.' On the first breathless spurt of the horses over what seemed to us pas.sjvbly dangerous ground, the hands almost involuntary clutched the iron. Foss turned round : ' When I was a lad, I once tried to hold a ship down, and I 1870.] CALIFORNIA. 353 found I couldn't,' .and with provoking calmness left us to make the appli- cation. Oh, that ride, that ride ! Up and on, up and down and on, now pausing on a plateau to trace the Russian river through its windings for some thirty-five miles, now climbing towards the pile on the summit of the Geyser mountain ; pulling, stretching, trotting, galloping, with waving manes and tails erect with excitement, now with a whoop, now with a halloo ; Foss now flinging the reins on one side in a heap to turn the leaders round a sharp corner, now jumping, the whole team lifted almost from the ground as if grasped in a strong hand, speaking cheerily to the flagging or reproachfully to the eccentric or to the lazy ; surely never was such a drive before ; and when we crossed the Hog's Back at full gallop for two miles and a half, the horses flying like the coursers of the sun, with two thousand feet sheer down from a road just wide enough for the wagon and no more ; and finally, when the Geyser Canyon ap- peared in sight but eighteen hundred feet below us, and the road so frightfully steep as to suggest nothing but the side of a house, and we plunged down the declivity and rounded the fierce curves on a keen trot, and with an apparent recklessness of life and limb, the interest culminated into a painful excitement, and we stepped from the carriage at the foot of the hill like Fitz James after the combat, ' Unwounded at the dreadful close. But breathless all.' " I suppose Foss is ignorant of the science of mathematics, but his driving was the most accurate and skilful calculation, both of force and distance, that I ever saw. We were almost too exhausted with excitement to walk through the canyon, which we did, however, to be en regie, under the leadership of a very stupid guide. . . . Descending from the hotel, about seventy-five feet, you first meet a spring of iron, sulphur and soda, temperature 73° Fahrenheit. The first spring going up the Geyser Gulch is the tepid alum and iron incrusted, temperature 97°, and with a very heavy iridescent incrustation of iron which forms in a single night. Twenty feet from this we pass the medicated Geyser bath, temperature 88°, and containing ammonia, Epsom salts, magnesia, sulphur, iron, etc. As you pass up the canyon, the ground on which you tread yields to the footsteps, as if there were cavernous regions not far away, and you begin humming almost unconsciously ' Facilis descensus Averni.^ By-and-by you come to spots which are yet more suggestively infernal. The Witch's Caldron, seven feet in diameter and of unknown depth, whose contents thrown up two or three feet, are semi-liquid and blacker than ink ; the Devil's Den ; the Devil's Inkstand, with whose contents, if you so please, you can write a legible letter on the spot ; the Devil's Kitchen, where the steam ' bubbles and seethes, and hisses and roars,' as if the hell-broth were con- tinually brewing ; the Mountain of Fire, with its hundred orifices ; and the 23 354 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xiii. great Steamboat Geyser, sounding like a high-pressure boiler blowing ofE steam so heated as to be invisible until it is six feet from the mouth — not to mention minor cells in the unceasing laboratoiy where alum, magnesia, tartaric acid, Epsom salts, ammonia, nitre and sulphur, are all being worked, as by unseen chemists, into marvellous combinations. As you look upon it all, and upon the blasted canyon, bare of heath and flower, in which not a solitary grass-blade grows, though to the very verge the greensward comes lovingly, and over it bend the pitiful trees, like mercy over an obdurate sinner, you need no livelier representation of hell. It is a strange sight, and it leaves a weird memory. The return ride was fine and enjoyable, as we had acquired confidence in Clarke Foss and in his team, and we reached Calistoga about 8 p.m., sore, stifi' and weary, but replete with memories of this day's wonderful ride." On the 1st of April Mr. Punshon returned to San Francisco. The next day, Sunday, he preached at the dedication of a new church, and visited the schools and mission work amongst the Chinese, and on the Monday he visited a heathen temple. It is thus described. From Notes of Travel. " Ajir/l 3rd. — . . . We went first into a Chinese joss-house — not an imitation one, but a veritable heathen temple — where these idolaters are in the habit of worshipping. To the right as we entered, was an idol, who is said to be a mere door-keeper god. A large and highly elaborate junk hangs in the doorway. On the left are a large ball and gong, and behind them a furnace. As you pass behind the screen into the principal chamber, on the right is an idol with a fierce complexion. This is the god of war. In the centre is the great sombre Father of Heaven, with an attendant deity on either hand. On the left is the Mother of Heaven, that is, as a Chinaman astutely said, ' like, you know, the Virgin Mary.' In a chamber on the right is the god of letters, and on the left, the goddess to whom, when they want favours, the women pay their vows. Burning sandal-wood realised the idea of the ancient vestal fire, and innumerable little chips had been stuck in and lighted by successive worshippers. Tliese had gone out ; but the three tall sticks in front of the chief divinity, as indeed before all the others, smoked in ceaseless offering. In front of .dl was a table upon which were basins filled with rice, salad, meat, cakes, etc. These were offerings to the gods. "In a niche, covered by a curtain, was a brass statue of what seemed to be a warrior god. Jt was altogether a novel and admonitory spectacle. i i87i.] VANCOUVER ISLAND. 355 A heathen temple in full blast in a professedly Christian city. But God sends the heathen to the gospel, when His Churcli is too penurious or too short-sighted to send the gospel to the heatlien. After leaving the joss- house we walked on through China town. Their gambling-houses are very numerous, and upon their neighbourhood abut whole streets devoted to prostitution." The voyage from San Francisco to Vancouver Island (April 5 — 11) v\^as anxious and perilous, and tlie poor accommodation and equipment of the ship on which he sailed call forth unusual expressions of disappointment and indignation. On the 11th he reached Victoria, and taking another steamer he proceeded " through exquisite coast and island scenery " to Nanaimo. ' From Notes of Travel. "^l^ivZ Vltli. — The parsonage at Nanaimo commands a fine view of the bay and inlets, with the snowy ridges of the coastline of the Cascade range closing up the view. In the forenoon we started in a large canoe manned by four Indian rowers, for Newcastle Island, where is a large fine stone quarry, the stone of which is being used in the building of the new Provincial Mint in ' Frisco.' Reclined in the bottom of the canoe, I was paddled along against a strong tide, with no care but to gaze upon the sky and watch the movements of two large eagles that were sailing above us in the azure. After inspecting the quarry and peering into the Indian huts, we sailed down, the tide being with us, two miles in fifteen minutes. After dinner passed the coal mine, now still because even in this far north there are strikes among the workmen, and went to the Indian village, in which ^re two streets named respectively the ' Heathen ' and ' Christian ' street. We passed first through the heathen quarter, and went into some of the abodes. A long, low, wooden building, without chimneys, without windows, with one common door, in which eight or nine families were herding together. As I went into one, the old chief, a veritable Flat- head, proud and dirty, innocent of clothing save a blanket and a pipe ! arose and shambled forward to greet us, while the squaw sat crooning over the fire, and through the smoke could be seen the little papooses either sprawling in primitive nakedness or strapped tightly in their cradles. Thence to the higher street, in which Christian Indians lived in homely but trim-looking houses, thrifty, comfortable, and ' each family apart.' The bell summoned them to worship and we had an interesting service 356 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xiii. About thirty women and twenty men assembled in the neat frame school- house which would not disgrace places of far greater pretension, and I spoke to them through an interpreter — then a native teacher addressed them. I baptised ' Reuben ' and ' Margaret,' two lively little papooses. I wish the believers in self -exalting humanity, who are sceptical of the success of Christian missions, could be just set down at Nanaimo, and compare for themselves the Heathen and the Christian streets of the Indian village. On the 13th Mr. Punshon returned to Victoria. The 14th and 15th were given to business of the District Meeting. From Journal. " Ajyril lOtk. — A full and rich Sabbath. Preached at 10 a.m., and afterwards held the first ordination under Wesleyan auspices on the Pacific Coast, by ordaining the Rev- Thomas Crosby, a native of York- shire, who has devoted himself to this Indian work -with an assiduity that is above all praise, and with an aptitude and sldU that make him a very valuable agent." Crossing over to New Westminster on the 18th, and up the Fraser Kiver on the 19th, Mr. Punshon visited the Mission of Sumass and ChiUiwhack, one of the most flourishing missions among the Indians. "April 20th. — Started at daybreak and begiin labouring upward against the current. The scenery increasingly grand, for we were under the shadow of mountains 3,000 feet high. About 8 a.m. reached Fort Hope, formerly the head of navigation for the miners, and a town of 5,000 inhabitants. It has dwindled now to the proportion of an insig- nificant village. Breakfasted on sturgeon and salmon. Came shortly to Union Bar, the most difficult place in the river, where the down- ward current was so strong, that we had to be towed up with a rope, sixteen men working the windlasses, and all steam on at the same time. Came in sight of several gold -miners at work on the banks of a fine spray or waterfall, and of a summit of snow 5,000 feet high. Passed the 'sisters,' twin rocks that stand on either side in mid- stream, leaving only about forty feet of a channel. At about half- past 11 a.m. we arrived in Fort Yale, the head of navigation on the Fraser. . . . Yale is grandly situated, just like several Swiss villages VANCOUVER ISLAND. 357 which I could name, for example Meyringen, and our walk was by a foaming river beneath overshadowing hills, and with the noise of avalanches crashing every now and then upon our ears. About half a mile from Yale we came to an Indian grave-yard. One enclosed grave had four wild geese sculptured rudely, one at each corner. The neat burial-house had in front a solid board twelve feet long by two feet wide, on which were carved figures of men at each end and in the centre, with four white bears on each side of the centre figure, the ground being painted red, the bears white, and the figures black and blue. A third house had an enormous figure of a shark and two hideous Indian faces. . . . The bell went round to summon the people to worship in the dilapidated and unused Methodist church of Yale, and I preached in these far wilds to about forty people, one of whom, now living next door to the church, used to hear me preach in Whitehaven, twenty-five years ago — so strangely do lives touch at the opposite poles of contact. . . . The population of Yale, formerly 5,000, is now like that of Hope, about 250, amongst whom they bitterly complain are only nine ladies who are available to figure in a ball. " Ap-il 21st. — The anniversary of my arrival on American soil ! What fierce heats and bitter winds have beaten on my life since then. A roseate dream, with a rude awakening to a wintry morning. " Had a pleasant voyage down the Fraser. . . . Arrived in New Westminster about 3 p.m., and after a hurried lunch at Mr. Cunning- ham's, started of£ for Burnard's Inlet, on a stage. Our road to Burnard's Inlet led us through a forest which at last realised my ideal concep- tion of a forest. . . . There was no glimpse of the horizon for the whole twelve miles, the brushwood lying so rankly that you could not walk through it without an axe to clear your way before you, and magnificent girths of fir and cedar lay along the ground, where some solitary feller had ' come up against the trees,' or towered to the heavens, where the aisles of the woodland had not been touched by the hand of man. There was hardly a tree in the forest less than 150 feet high, and some fully 300 in height, and from forty to fifty feet round. Some of the trees we saw will make forty cords of split wood, besides waste. . . . " On our return journey the driver stopped on a lonely and frail bridge, in the densest part of the forest, and demanded his fare. It had an ugly look, as the shadows of night were gathering rapidly, but we resisted stoutly, and he drove on sullenly to New Westminster. We got in before the utter darkness, and did not therefore hear the bay of the cougars that abound in the forest, and make night hideous as they prowl in search of prey. " April 22nd. — . . . Left at 10 a.m. per steamer Enterprise for Victoria. By-and-by Mount Baker broke forth in all his gi-andenr, as if indignant at being written down a myth, and was anxious to 3S8 rV. MOkLEY PUNStlON. [chap. Xtl vindicate his reputation. There he towered majestic and solitary, 10,694 feet high. The Gulf of Georgia was rather rough as we crossed it, but the sky was exquisitely clear, and I question whether anywhere else there could be seen a mountain panorama of so great majesty unless among the Swiss Alps." The 23rd and 24tli were spent in Victoria. On the 25th Mr. Punshon sailed for Olympia, and thence took stage to Monte Cello. On the 28th he sailed for Portland. In his notes the bad roads and charm- ing scenery are mentioned, and so too is the rapid progress of the country fi-om the wilderness to civihsa- tion, one typical instance being given in " Kalam, a city six weeks old, and containing already good three-storey buildings and a population of five hundred." On the 29th he sailed for San Francisco, where he arrived on the 3rd of May. On the 6th his party set their faces homeward again, taking on the way the excursion to the big trees and the Yo Semite Valley. From Note-isook. " Mmj lOth. — Rose at half-past four, and after breakfasting on a rooster, which Mr. B helped to chase the night before, by a little after six were in our saddles. My horse was a gallant grey, named ' Mono.' Three miles and a half's riding brought us to the grove of Big Trees. We felt awed and dwarfed as we gazed upon these monarchs of the forest. There were some twenty-five or thirty of them. We measured three which must be from eighty to ninety feet in circum- ference. We stood up against one which was fallen, and it would have taken three men of the size of Benson to get to the top of the trunk as it lay in its ruins upon the ground. From the grove we proceeded to Crane Flat ; thence through dense forests, with occasional glimpses of snow- capped mountains, to Tamarack Flat where the stage ought to have taken us ; thence three miles to Prospect Point, from which is a magnificent view of a canyon and where the descent into the valley begins. That descent, who can describe ? It had better be left descriptionlcss. At last it wa-i over, and the ride up the wondciful valley began. Words uttei-ly fail mo. As in Sir Walter Scott's description of his ideal of the picture of a Ixittle : yO SEMITE VALLEY. 359 ' First " a gude stour," then an arm and a leg gleaming thi'ough it, and all the rest to the imagination of the spectator ; ' so with me and the Yo Semite. Lauterbrunnen is the Yo Semite in miniature. Here the walls are higher and the scenery Avilder, and the cascades more numerous. The Bridal Veil is exquisitely beautiful, and the Ribbon Fall and Sentinel Cascade graceful as silver streaked upon emerald, but the Lower Yo Semite Fall moved me to tears, as also did the majestic El Capitan, to my mind the most impressive and magnificent rock I ever saw, and the gem of the valley. The majestic immobility, the calm and stately grandeur with which El Capitan overshadows the valley, like a huge couchant lion, and the poetry of motion, the delicate and endless grace with which the water shimmers into spray, while the gnome of the waterfall watches it as with an evil eye, — these combined make the two scenes memories for ever." From Journal. " Afay 26?A. — Since my last entry, how marvellous have been the pre- serving mercies of the Lord. I have to record many loving-kindnesses. I have taken a long journey. I have been preserved by land and sea, through many excitements, discomforts, and pleasures, through 8,800 miles of travel. ... I have been permitted to testify for Christ, I humbly trust not without success, in regions which I may never see again. My soul is full of gratitude. . . ." CHAPTER XIV. 1871 — 1872. CANADA.— ENGLAND.— CANADA. Aged 47, 48. Visit to England. — Addresses the Conference at Manchester. — Continued Labours in Canada. — Physical Depression. — Christmas. — A Grandfather. — Dedication of the Metropolitan Church. — General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 1872. — Degree of LL.D. Journal. "jMwe \^th, 1871. — On June 1st my daughter was married to the man of her choice, one in whose hands I may safely trust her. ... I went off immediately to Conference, which, by God's blessing, has passed off plea.santly and profitably. There is improvement in every department of Church action, a numerical increase of 211 members, and a hearty brotherliness among the preachers which it was refreshing to see. Felt prostrate in body wlien it was all over, but thankful and restful in mind. They not only elected me President, but nominated me by a large vote for President in 187'i. This, done without my concurrence, and during my temporary absence from the Conference, may be providential, and I await the issue. I was also appointed Representative to the British Conference ; and, accompanied by my daughter and her husband, propose to sail on Saturday for England." To E. D . " S.S. ' MoK.wiAN,' Atl.xntic: Ocean, July 3;y/, 1871. "... I feel as though in some unknown manner this %'isit wiU furnish me with indications by which to determine my future. The demon- strations of respect which greeted mc when troops of friends accompanied me to the ship in Toronto were very affecting. What is my duty ? — Who shall tell me ? " VISIT TO ENGLAND. 361 If he had been looking for indications of the way of duty in the signs of respect given to him, and in high appreciation of his labours, he might well be in the perplexity expressed in this letter. It seemed as if no people could respect and love him more than did the people of Canada ; but any one who witnessed his reception in England in the summer of 1871 must admit, as does the writer of these lines, himself a Canadian, that Mr. Punshon was even more loved and honoured in England than he was in Canada. It could only be because the English people knew him longer and better. Moreover, the old friends are, like the old wine, ever the best. The following account of his reception in England, and of his address in the Free Trade Hall, is taken from the Christian Guardian, the official organ of the Methodist Church in Canada. " The reception of Mr. Punshon in England, after his ojourn of over three years in Canada, has been of the most enthusiastic kind. His name scarcely appeared in public till he burst upon the Conference with a suddenness and power that startled them out of all staid propriety. Be- fore he was introduced to the Conference, when he and the Rev. Gervase Smith came upon the platform, the vast audience rose and cheered, and waved hats and handkerchiefs in token of welcome. This was repeated when he arose to address the Conference. In addressing him, the Presi- dent said, — " ' Every heart in this assembly goes with that cheer. We have watched your career in the great and glorious country to which your path has been directed. We rejoice and give thanks to God for the honour which He has put upon you, and the work He has enabled you to do. We see you amongst us again with thankfulness to Him, and with feelings of un- speakable affection towards yourself. We have never lost sight of you. (Cheers.) Never forgotten you. (Renewed cheers.) You have been one of ourselves. Your name has been called over every year as a member of this Conference since you left us. Your name has been called over to- day. I rejoice that it will appear in the record of this year as present in our deliberations, and on your own account I greet you in the name of the 362 W. MORLEY PUNS HON. [chap. xill. Lord, and on account of that noble Church, at the head of which it has pleased Him to place you during the last three years.' (Cheers.) " Mr. Puushon's address which followed, was distin- guished as usual by its comprehensive range of topics and skilful arrangements, and by the beauty and force of thought and language which it displayed. It is no disparagement to our former representatives to say that never before were the character, the claims, and the works of Canadian Methodism so fully and forcibly brought before the Enghsh Con- ference. Every Canadian will thank Mr. Punshon for his manly and truthful representation of the posi- tion of affairs in Canada. His statement as to the tendency of the English Colonial policy was clear and unquestionable. The occasion was one of rare interest, such as a man seldom enjoys twice in a lifetime. And he was equal to the occasion. The Free Trade Hall in which the open session of Con- ference was held, is one of the finest halls in England. The Becorder estimates the audience at six thousand. Of these over eight hundred w^ere ministers. But they were all as one man stirred to laughter, sorrow, wonder, or high and heroic purpose at the will of the orator, who spoke on behalf of Canadian Methodism with such eloquence and power. Probably no pre- vious oratorical effort of his life was more effective and impressive. The Watchman says : — " The interest or rather the enthusiasm of the meeting culminated when Mr. Punshon was introduced as the President and representative of the Canadian Conference. . . . Mr. Punshon is somewhat sunburnt with his extensive travels, but is apparently in perfect health. As he rose his looks gave evidence of deep emotion, but tliat emotion he reprcased, ap- parently not without effort. Never have we heard him speak with greater beauty or power. He told of the vast extent of British North America, i87i.] SPEECH IN THE FREE TRADE HALL. 363 its varied populations, their moral and religious necessities, the remark- able progress made by Methodism during the last seventeen years, and the influential position it now holds. He described the work of Methodism among the colonists of English descent, the Germans, the French, the Indians, and the Chinese. He dwelt at large upon the educational efl:orts of our Church, its literature, and the character of its rising ministry. He ' gave to his hearers beautiful glimpses of the regions he had visited in the far West, and after alluding for a moment with exquisite tenderness to the sorrows he had been called to bear, he spoke of former Manchester Conferences, recalling the time when he stood as a candidate for ordina- tion in the Oldham Street Chapel, and the time when he received the honour of election into the Hundred, the youngest member upon whom that honour had ever been bestowed. He then uttered words of en- couragement as to the present state of the Church, exhorting his brethren to be full of heart and hope." The Becorder says : — " It would be difficult to analyse and define delicately the feeling of the vast mass of people who rose to greet him with shouts, and waving of hats, handkerchiefs, umbrellas, and all moveable things. But I shall not be far wrong when I surmise that the predominant emotion was deep personal affection, sympathy with his great services past, and joy at his return. English Methodists have kept his place vacant in their hearts." . . . The i?ecorfZe?' also thinks "that Mr. Punshon's address made it evident that he was all the richer for Canada, that the administrator was as con- spicuous as the rhetorican. The accumulations of experience have added value to the prolific gifts." It adds : " It is currently rumoured that Mr. Punshon will return to Canada in the autumn, and it is as generally anti- cipated that he will come to this country again in about two years to abide. Should this be so, he will bring with him treasures of experience of which Methodism will have need." This reception at Manchester was repeated in kind, if not in degree, wherever he appeared in England. There was no mistaking it — it was the call of the Church to her son, and to him it was the call of God. A term was now set to his stay in Canada, and the year 1873 was fixed as the time of his return to the work of the mother Church in Eneland. 364 JV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. Xiv Early in September, 1871, he returned to Canada, his niece, a daughter of the late Thomas Panton, of Sunderland, returning with him to keep up the light and warmth of his home during the remainder of his stay in America. To E. D — . " S. S. ' Nestorian,' at Sea, September 19ril25lh. — Bereavement has come very near us in the unexpected removal of dear, good Joseph Wood, one of my Circuit Stewards, a plain, honest man who knew Whom he had believed, and who died well. " May 9th. — The meetings this week exciting but blessed. Sustained in my Monday's speech, which I had dreaded. Helped marvellously also in the Bible Meeting on Wednesday. Surprised and humbled to receive a letter from the Archbishop of Canterbury, thanking me for my address, and saying he should deem it a misfortune if it were not published entire. I am devoutly thankful if I was permitted to say anything which shall bear fruit that may remain. " June 27th. — Absent during the last fortnight in Sunderland, New- castle, Carlisle, and Ii-eland. The Irish Conference, at which I have been called to preside, passed o£E very pleasantly. Many critical matters have arisen, but a good spirit has prevailed, and the Master has been with His servants. I am cheered by the prospect of able, thoughtful young men who are rising up in the Irish ministry. Skilled workmen are needed there. "July 11th. — The two or three last Sabbaths I have had a painful return of my former trouble in the pulpit, which has much discouraged me, though I feel, after all, power to trust myself in the Lord's hands. Have occasion to write reproachfully of myself for hasty speaking during the week. May God give me full and constant self-control." To Rev. Alfred Reynar. "July mh, 1875. "My last day at home before departure for Conference, and withal an anniversary, cannot be better occupied than in writing to you. Though the wide waters separate us, there will be a community of interest and feeling to-day, and we shall commune with, while we mourn, our dead. Two years in heaven ! How must they feel who are thus sublimed and ennobled. They do not lose their human tenderness with the lapse of that they know not — time ; but they bend intelligently and lovingly over our poor fortunes still. May God give us both to-day not only the inner appreciation of the heavenly, but the transformation, by 410 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xvi. beholding, into its likeness. Dear>little EUie ! Give my own dear love. I long to see the dear child. May her mother's God be her portion and defence." The Conference of 1875, which was held in Sheffield, brought Dr. Panshon's year of office to a close, and gave him welcome release from its cares and labours. It was a great joy to him that he was succeeded in the Presidency by his friend Gervase Smith. One important duty still remained to be discharged, and that accomplished, he was, comparatively a free man. On the 4th of August he delivered his charge to the newly-ordained ministers, in the presence of an immense congrega- tion. It was founded upon Acts xx. 28, " Take heed, therefore, unto yourselves, and to all the flock over the which the Holy Gliost hath made you overseers." The strain throughout was practical and hortator}^, full of sympath)^ with those whom he addressed, whose hopes and fears, and possibilities of success or failure he well understood, and animated by an unfaltering confidence in the gospel as God's best gift to man, and the sufficient remedy for all his woes. An extract or two will show with what earnestness he pressed faithful counsels on his younger brethren : — "You will have your sliare in the common temptations which beguile unwary souls. . . . Tiiesc will beset you as they beset ordinary men ; but you will have special temptations from your office and duties which they can neither share nor understajid. Elation often waits upon apparent success, and despondency upon the late or scanty appearing of the scattered seed. If your work is easy to you, you will be tempted to be indolent ; if it is difficult, you may sink beneath it in unworthy apathy, or vaingloriously overcome it in equally unworthy pride. You will, perhaps, have to laliour whore you can discover few con- genial spirits, and more to hinder than to help. You will have to deal '875-] ORDINATION CHARGE. 411 ■with weak men, and naiTow men, and timid men, and sensitive men. You will be subject to misconstruction, and neglect, and opposition, and, it may be, to slander. And amid all these difficulties you are called to show all the Christian graces ; not to be contemptuous in your strength, nor to make your liberty an occasion of another's bondage, nor to vaunt your courage, nor to fail for an instant in your meekness of wisdom. Tempted from without and from within, with peril in the heart and peril in the office, with danger lurking in the neighbourhood of duty, trembling beneath your own sense of insufficiency, wearied in spirit from the very 'greatness of the way'— nothing can save you but a healthy inward life, a near dwelling under the shadow of the mercy-seat, a close, constant, strengthening walk with God. Oh, for the perfect moral calm- ness which only complete trust and complete surrender can give ! ' The prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in Me,' — so said our Divine Example. Satan will not lift the latch unless there be some faint invitation through the window. Aim at this complete separation from evil. You must be pure if you would be strong. Cultivate all holiness of flesh and spirit. Have a care that none, because of you, shall abhor the offering of the Lord, and that you be not overtaken, like David, the aggravation of whose guilt was that it made ' the enemies of the Lord to blaspheme.' For your own sakes, that you may finish your course with joy; for the Church's sake, that your lives may be your most powerful discourse ; for Christ's sake, that you may be stars in His right hand — I charge you ' keep your hearts with all diligence, for out of them are the issues of life.' " On tlie maintenance of " sound doctrine " he spoke as follows : — " It has been matter of thankful rejoicing that no doctrinal controversies have weakened or disturbed us during the century of our separate exist- ence. We ask of you that you will not ' make this glorying void." In the name of your fathers who commit to you this trust untarnished, in the name of the Churches which your heresy might alienate or injure, in the name of the Methodist people to whom the manna of the old Word is sweet, and who ask with strong desire ' evermore give us this bread,' I counsel you to ' hold fast,' that you may ' hold forth ' this ancient Word of life. It is the more necessary that you should be settled in your faith, because of the general unsettlement around you. Though I thankfully acknow- ledge that the great heart of England still hungers for the living truth, and that there is a music in the name of Jesus to which the masses are fain to listen ; yet it is impossible to forget that the current thought of to-day is tending towards unbelief, and that we may have fallen upon times when many ' will not endure sound doctrine, but gather to themselves teachers. 412 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xvi. having itching ears.' The old adversaries are still in the field, and there are others, more to be dreaded, who fight against the truth while they are clad in the armour of the true. . . . " Brethren, it is needful that you be strong in faith yourselves, that you have a firm grasp of ' the faith once delivered to the saints,' if you are to grapple with the diflSculties of your position, and become wise winners of souls. If you falter or hesitate, or fence the truth about with your reserves and your misgivings, like an Agag who 'comes delicately,' what impression are you likely to make upon your hearers ? Men's opinions are but as the threads of the gossamer. Men's convicliona are the powers that shake the world. You have no vantage-gi'ound in dealing with many- sided error but in an honest and thorough confidence in the truth. Men declaim foolishly enough about dogmatic teaching. You must dogmatise when men are dying, and you are sent to them with ' the words of eternal life.' On minor matters, indeed, of taste, or criticism, or even of subor- dinate truth, you may hold your conclusion with deference, and avow it with modesty ; but on the questions that press close upon eternity — on man's need and God's grace, on Christ's atonement and the sinner's pardon, on the Spirit's work and the believer's growth — on these tfiere must be no room for hesitation or misgiving." The vacancy in the Missionary Secretaryship, caused by the death of Mr. Wiseman, was filled by the appointment of Dr. Punshon. His qualifications for the office were conspicuous. From the very beginning of his ministry the cause of missions had lain near his heart. The advocacy of missions he regarded, not as a something additional to his vocation as a preacher of the Gospel, but as an essential part of it, without which there would be no proportion or completeness in his ministry. For nearly thirty years he had held a foremost place among missionary speakers, and no man in the home ministry had done more to urge and educate the conscience of the Church on the subject of its duty toward Christ and toward the nations. His many journeys on the continent of Europe had brought him into contact with the chief forms of modern Christian and anti- Christian life, and made 1875 ] APPOINTED MISSIONARY SECRETARY. 413 him acquainted with missionary work and workers of ahnost every kind. On the still wider field of the American continent he had followed the footsteps of the missionary, and studied the methods and the results of his work, both amongst the heathen and in communities recently brought within the Christian fold. All this was an invaluable preparation for the position he was now called to occupy in the admini- stration of a great Missionary Society, while his natural gifts for dealing VTith men and directing affairs — so necessary in the oflfice he was assuming — were trained by large experience to the highest efficiency. He was appointed by a practically unani- mous vote of the Conference, and with the hearty approval of the whole Connexion. The office of Missionary Secretary, which Dr. Punshon held for the remainder of his life, was the fitting climax of his life's work. The qualities that he brought to its duties have been already shown ; but they will receive further illustration from the testimony of one who was closely associated with him, and had the best means of judging of the spirit in which he approached his work, and the ability with which he performed it. The Kev. E. E. Jenkins, his colleague at the Mission House, writes as follows : — Dr. Punshon as a Colleague. " My knowledge of Dr. Punshon was enlarged and became more pre- cise after I was called to share with him and other brethren the labours of the Mission House. My previous acquaintance had never attained intimacy. I had seen him from the distance only ; for during the time when men thirst for friendship and have leisure to be friends, our lot was cast in fields remote from each other. His fame travelled to India ; and I had a glimpse of the brilliancy of his endowments during 414 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xvi. my brief visit to England in 1856. My impression of his powers was then, and for years after, an inaccurate one. There were talents and qualities wliicli I had not seen ; their liouie wAs in the background of the character, where the best gifts reside. I had simply learned what everybody knew, that God had given to Methodism an orator and a man 'mighty in the scriptures.' The opportunities of meeting him in Conference and on Committees gave me a nearer and, therefore, a truer view of the man. I discovered that he was well nigh as strong in counsel as in speech. In administration he did not appear to seek distinction ; but when its tasks were entrusted to him, he accomplished them with so easy a mastery of the conditions of success that it seemed as if the minute divisions and compUcations of business were as much under the spell of his genius as the resources and embellishments of oratory. " It was in the Mission House, however, in the near associations of mutual responsibilities and anxieties that I was able to complete the estimate, and in my own mind to perfect the image of one of tlie greatest men it has been my privilege to know. As his powers were equally at home in the survey of general principles, and in the laborious inspection and adjustment of details, so his fidelity was alike conspicuous in the duties that are hidden fi-om the public eye, and in those more attractive engagements that secure a wide notice and an instant applause. He was not one of those men who are content to run after the luxuries of popularity, and leave to their colleagues the hard fare of administrative cares. Public favour had a peculiar charm for Punshon, but he was never conquered by it ; he was the steward of its gains, and not the slave. This fi-eedom from the tyranny of fame saved him fi-om the rivalries and jealousies incident to co-partnership. He had a strong will, and diligently urged the acceptance of his plans ; he was glad to prevail, but when beaten was ready to submit ; and the disappointment of his wishes was open and generous, there was no lingering resentment behind it. In the distribution of the duties of our department his sliare of the burden was necessarily large, and a sympathetic imagination made it oppressive. It not only engaged his energies but consumed them. He feared not the exhaustion of the pulpit and the platform ; for here he forgot the cixres of the Board and the tasks of the desk. But in descending from the missionary theme to the missionary income, from divinity to finance, the hopeful sentiment that characterised his eloquence forsook him. At the time of wliich I speak we were heavily in debt, and as the state of the income promised no immediate relief, we found it absolutely necessary to retrench the missionary grants. The prudence of this step was un- questionable, but on some of our stations disaster was inevitable. This was ' a sword in our bones.' I do not imagine that Punshon felt the wound more keenly than his colleagues, but he was deputy Treasurer, and in respect of the.se embarrassments and the evils they drew after 1875-] SKETCH BY MR. JENKINS. tliem, he assumed, perhaps unconsciously, that there was no division of responsibility, and he toiled and fretted as if he were the sole occupant of the department. He was sensitive to pul)lic criticism, even when it was irrelevant and unjust, but whatever thretitened to liarass and disliearten our missionaries touched him far more sharply. He lived in the work of these brethren. A far-reaching sympathy made him the companion of men he had never known, and a partaker in labours he had never seen. He watched the good fight of Christ on the fields of heathenism, not only with enthusiasm and anxiety, but with a sense of conflict as if himself in the battle. He was thus in the midst of two struggles. He was in the distant and glorious strife of the Faith, and he was in the near and worrying strife of administration ; and the double contest exhausted and hastened the fall of this great and noble soldier." CHAPTEE XYIL 1875-1877. LONDON: MISSION HOUSE. Aged 51 to 53. Letter to Rev. R. Ridgill. — Journal. — Nottingham Conference. — Lay- representation. — Settles at Tranhy. — Love of Life.— A Railway Porter's Dream. — Death of Rev. G.T. Perks. — Estimate of his Character. — Tribute to Dr. Waddy's Memory. — Memorial Sketch of Rev. James Parsons. — Letters to Friends. — Address : Oxford under two Queens. On leaving the Conference at Sheffield, which had released him from the cares of the presidency, and appointed him to the office of Missionary Secretary, Dr. Punshon paid his annual visit to Llandudno. He wrote to Mr. Keynar : — " Llandudno, August l%th, 1875. " We finished Conference on Friday night, and on Saturday the Pre- sident and his wife, and I and mine, came to this delightful place, where we hope to stay for a fortnight. We have had an exciting Conference, and in some respects an eventful one. Lay-representation, and the political action which a Methodist preacher is authorised to take — you will, I dare say, see our discussions on these matters and their issue. My own heart is moved by what I fear as to the future of Methodism ; but the Lord reigneth, and He, if He need us, will preserve us. Gerviise made an admii'able President, and guided the sometimes unruly mass with much tact and skill. His health makes me anxious." JOUKNAL. " September 5th. — Those occasions at Conference to which I looked for- ward with trembling, almost with dread, were overruled by the sustaining grace of God, and I delivered my sermon and my charge with freedom. I875-] LETTER TO MR. RIDGILL. 4'7 My dear friend, Gervase Smith, was elected my successor, and he deported himself right skilfully, much to mj' unselfish rejoicing. Many critical matters were discussed with unfailing good temper. Some tendencies are rather perilous, but I trust in the overruling of Providence. . . .Enjoyed a fortnight in Wales, though I preached too often to call it absolute rest. Good dear Mr. Prest called home while we were there. I esteemed him highly for manliness and strength. During the Conference also dear Mrs. Foster's sufiEerings were terminated by a peaceful dismissal. It was during my absence at her funeral that I was elected to the Missionary Secretary- ship by 346 votes. Thus life's mixed web is woven." Letter to Rev. R. Ridgill. " Mission Hodse, Nov. 2ith, 1875. "Many thanks for your felicitations on my appointment. It was brought about without my seeking, and it is a post congenial to me, and where I may yet be spared, if the Lord will, to render service. It was indeed a relief when the President's crown dropped off. It is not exactly of thorns, but the increase of responsibility and anxiety is immense, and I was right glad to be dismissed with honour. " I am getting by degrees into the work at this house. Mr. Perks's absence has devolved unusual responsibility upon me, and I find it a post of no less difficulty than honour. However, with a brave heart and a trust in God, I hope to do yeoman service. " Well, you have seen in Perks a real live Missionary Secretary, and find him, I am sure, no such awful or exceptional creature as you supposed. He is a scholar and a gentleman, mild, amiable, and yet shrewd and states- manlike, and perhaps as free from prejudices as most men. His style is classic and pure ; his manner, as you will have discovered, slightly laboured. " When will you come over ? It would be a delight to me to renew our youth together. And here let me say, though I am now that awful per- sonage a Missionary Secretary, any communication from you as a friend may be as frank, and if you like, as objurgatory, as ever. There are official iMuteius, I know, as traditions of this place. I hope I shall not perpetuate them ; though I shall find, as I have found already, that there are unreasonablenesses on the part of missionaries that impress one rather ■with the littleness of human nature in its best estate, than with the self- sacrifice that is ideally associated with the character. So we must hold the balance fairly ! Journal. " December 25th, 1875. — God's good hand has brought me by the sweep of the seasons to another Christmas Day. I have breathed something of 27 4i8 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xvii. the spii'it of the Advent, aud my heart was subdued into gratitude as I thought of Christ, the babe and Saviour, and all the blessings which His incarnation has scattered among men. " January 9th, 1876. — A successful but fatiguing journey to Ivybridge to dedicate their new chapel. A day of physical feebleness on my return, but was helped yesterday in the united prayer-meeting, and to-day in preaching in the old Presbyterian Church in Oxenden Street, built origin- ally for Richard Baxter. Mr. Frankland, I fear, dying. So our leaders of thought and action are gathered one by one. " January 23)-fZ. — The reaping of death has been going on since I last wrote. We buried good Mr. Frankland, our Editor, and my former colleague in Islington, on Friday. It is admonitory that from the Mission House, from the Home Missions, and now from the Book Room we have suffered bereavement in less than a year. Dear IMrs. Edward Corderoy also quietly slept away yesterday morning. "February 13<7(. — Intensely cold weather. On Friday there was the densest darkness in the City for three hours, that I have ever seen. The fog hung brown, sickly, and frightful, as over a doomed town, and the gas lights from below were reflected with a weird, lurid glare. " February '11th. — Dear little Elbe Reynar's birthday. She is four years old to-day. The Lord God of my hope and worship bless this dear child, and early give her His grace ; and with all her mother's docility and meek- ness may she have a longer lease of life. Much from home during the past fortnight. Resting for two or three days at Wykhani Park, where kind friends live in an earthly paradise. Thence to Bristol to officiate at the marriage of dear C. M., whom I have loved as my own child. The Lord give her a bright and blessed future. Preached this morning at the Baptist Church in Westbourne Grove. Met on the way, while in some depression, by a young man who told me he was converted under my preaching at Warwick Gardens last April. Much impressed and charmed with Dr. Norman McLeod's Life. I confess to a sympathy with the type of godliness which he and George Wilson exemplified. "March 26rd. — An anniversary — my saddest and most mysterious. My thoughts yet dwell upon the marvel of seven years ago, with an utter incapacity to comprehend it, and with as tender a memory, but with deeper patience and trust, and with a more abounding thankfulness for present mercies. Bereft in a minor, but still painful, degree by the departure of my dear friend Gervase Smith and his wife for Australia. He goes as the messenger of the Churches. May G-od have them in His keeping, restrain the winds and waves, give them all the travellers" mercies, prosper their mission, and bring them back strong for service for many years to come. " October 28th. — Have preached this morning under a heavy influenza, and almost shrink from work and travel on the morrow. James Parsons taken home in his 79th year, a man to whom I owe much, and whom I loved much. His has been a beautiful life, and an eminently successful ministry. In the Recorder of October 26th Dr. Punshon paid the following tribute to the memory of Mr. Parsons : — " With many physical disadvantages, with a feeble voice, and an utterance which was a strange blending of hesitation and rapidity, with no gesture save the measured and impressive lifting of the hand, he Avas yet in his prime one of the most popular preachers of the day. And his popularity was legitimately earned, for it was secured without compromise of the truth. Never was there a more fearless probing of the conscience or greater fidelity in warning. It was a sight to see his spell-bound congrega- tions, every ear strained lest it should lose a sentence ; some late comer into the siinctuary heedlessly making liis way to a seat in the g-allcry, but stopping midway, transfixed, seemingly, wliere he stood, by the glance of the preacher's eye ; and then when the climax was reached, to hear the little cough tliat preluded the released coughs of the congregation, held breathlessly in restraint till then. None who ever witnessed a scene like this could go away unimpressed by the solemnity of the occasion. ... In many respects the sermons of Mr. Parsons are models of homiletical composition. It might bo objected that there was lack of originality ; but, indeed, he did not aim at being more original tluin Paul or John. ... If a ministry is to be judged by actual usefulness, his was an eminent success. He was always faithful to tlie old gospel. His soul went not out after the diiintics witli which some men sug-ar the truth ; and by his fearless and faitliful 'manifestation,' he 'commended himself to every man's con- science in the sight of God.' With strong convictions, which on fitting occasions he did not hesitiite to deckre, he had a aitholic spirit, an over- DECLINING HEALTH. 435 flowing brotherliness, the courtesy of a Christian gentleman, and a large- hearted sympathy with all that was lovely and of good report. He lived long enough to gather to himself ' honour, love, obedience, troops of friends.' Multitudes will hold his memory sacred, to whom he never knew that he had been a benefactor, and so long as any of the generation linger to which he was such a wealthy blessing, the name of James Parsons will be remembered as that of one of the most impressive of preachers and most lovable of men." Journal. " December 23rd. — On Sunday evening last I preached in Dr. Allon's new church to a vast multitude of people, numbering over three thousand. I was frightened and excited, but upheld. Three exciting services in the provinces since, so it has been a week of heavy labour. " December 30th. — A very happy Christmas Day, all my family round me, and in fair health. Have been very poorly since, and am haunted to- day with a great dread similar to that which oppressed me four years ago. But He who deUvered me then can deliver again, if it be His will, and if not, can help me to endure.'' It will be observed that the references to ill-health and to nervous fears and distresses, are increasingly- numerous. During these later years there was hardly a day without its bodily discomforts or mental depression. Not that he was thereby incapacitated for work, or that there was no happiness for him in his home life. This was far from being the case. But the elasticity and superabounding energy of former days were gone, and nothing could restore them. Physically, he was reaping what he had sown, gathering a harvest of weariness and pain fi'om the prodigal expenditure of himself in former years. Something of this was apparent to every one, but neither himself nor those who watched him most closely knew how complete was the undermining of his health, or with what steady course his vital powers were deteriorating. Meantime he laboured strenuously at the duties 436 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xvii. of liis office, and during the year preached between seventy and eighty times, lectured eleven times, and addressed upwards of fifty meetings. He also took considerable part in the management of the Recorder newspaper, frequently contributing leading articles. The letters of the year, other than those of an official character, were not very numerous. A few extracts may be given. To Rev. W. Hikst. " January 2nd, 1877. (Having ordered some coals for Mr. Hirst.) " They asked me how I liked the coals. In reply I said they were good coals but hard to break. The letter this morning tells me, ' You will notice that, like wood, it has a very decided grain, and if the point of a sharp pick be driven into it parallel with the lines of cleavage, it will readily divide. " This is for the benefit of your damsels. I told them to tell Emma that she must always strike the coal ' parallel with the lines of cleavage ! ' She will be much edified ! ! " To Rev. A. H. Revn.\r. " Venice, March 20th, 1877. " The Bride of the Sea is a very shrewish bride to-day, for a gale of wind is blowing, and the lagoons are in huge waves. . . . About a month ago it seemed to have become necessary for some one to come to Italy to look after certain matters in connection with our mission work, and as I was about ' run down,' and Mr. Perks could not leave, the lot fell upon me, and I was not sorry. We left home on March 2nd and crossed to Calais that evening, and the next day went on to Paris. I preached in Paris on Sunday, March -Ith. The following Thursdiiy wo reached Spczia, where we have an interesting work, and where I had to inspect and report upon ground for a chapel, and the building itself, which has been suspended for seven months for lack of funds. Wo had an Italian service. We arrived at Rome on Saturday, the 10th. At far-off and reverent distance I followed in apostolic footsteps, and preached ' the gospel to them that are in Rome also.' Our new chapel should have been ready, but was not, and the opening is deferred for another month. We have just taken up a fine militarj- mission in Rome, which the Americans have failed to sustain. I attended a week-night service at which seventy soldiers were present, and the work was formally transferred to our cai-c. 1877.] LETTERS TO FRIENDS. 437 Van Meter, who h;is been very successful in Rome, is also recalled, and some of his work will fall into our hands. . . . The Certosa, at Bologna, is one of the most beautiful burial-places in the world. You walk for miles under marble arcades, amid groups of beautiful sculpture. In the old University, moreover, I was much interested by the Etruscan remains recently excavated. There are several coffins in which skeletons were found with the teeth perfect, and the rings that were buried with them still upon the fleshless fingers. Some of them are indisputably of ancient date, for in the hand is the oholus to pay the fare demanded by Charon for crossing the Styx, and in some there is the piece of brass, the ccs mde, dating before oboli were coined. ... I have heard from Dr. Ryerson of his safe arrival home. We had the good old man at Tranby, and I felt honoured to have such a guest. We met Bishop Andrews in Rome, and Bishop Haven in Paris. How these Americans do fly about the world ! " To Rev. W. Hirst. " May 28th, 1877. " Will you come and help to keep the old man's birthday, and put Mrs. Hirst's second-best tafEeta upon her, and bring her also ! Dinner at 3 p.m. at the Tranby Hotel. Tuesday, 29th May. Excuse short notice, and never mind the white gloves. Oh, the memories of fifty-two years ! " To Rev. Gervase Smith. " June mh, 1877. " I hope you will have safely arrived in Cork when this reaches you. Will you please express on my behalf to the Conference at large, and to the brethren individually, how warmly I feel towards them, and how sorely I am disappointed at not being able to be present at their sessions, and how earnestly I pray that the spirit of wisdom and unity may rest upon them from first to last. The Lord bless Irish Methodism, and make it an increasing power for good." To Mrs. May. ''August im, 1877. " We have been fancying our beloved friends at the Sunday tea-table, casting a stray thought after us, and wondering how we fared ; and by the subtle photography in which thought adjusts the focus, and love pre- pares the plate, we have seen all the loved likenesses at Park House, ' dis- tinct, minute, as in a glass.' How to thank you, dear friends, for your unqualified kindness, I cannot tell. We must be content to be your debtors, from the utter impossibility of bringing our assets up to our liabili- ties. But they are loving hearts to which you have been bountiful, and although gratitude has no image of Csesar on its coinage, which does not pass current on change, there has been enough coined from that mint during the last five weeks to load a Spanish galleon. God bless you all." 438 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xvii. During tlie year Dr. Punshon delivered several " Addresses " in different parts of the country. By this term was denoted something between a speech and a lecture, more formal and more carefully pre- pared than the one, less laboured and elaborate than the other. Of these the most important was entitled " Oxford under two Queens," delivered in Oxford, at the meeting of the Evangelical Alliance. The theme was a congenial one. A contrast between the age of Mary and that of Victoria was one to appeal to his strongest convictions, while the elements of the historical and moral picturesque furnished fit employment for his oratorio powers. It is, further, interesting as a specimen of his later style. After 1872 he ceased to prepare new lectures, so that this "Address" is by five years later than the latest of them. The style is somewhat more subdued, but the essential characteristics of his eloquence are there unchanged. After a glowing tribute to the Oxford Martyrs, he proceeds : " If the retrospect were not too sad for laughter, there are aspects of tliat age that are grotesque as well as grim. Thus priests from the pulpits gave solemn warnings against the study of Greek, lest it should make the students heretics, and against the study of Hebrew, lest it should make them Jews. Thus also it is related on the autliority of Sir Thomas More, who would certainly ' set nought down in malice ' which told of Romish shortcomings, tliat a learned priest of those days had such exiiggerated reverence that, heedless of the sense of Scripture, he scraped out the word diuholus in his nuvnuscript of the gospels, and substituted Jesus Christas, on the ground that the devil's name was not fit to stand in so good a place. " Now what was the underlying principle of aU this ? These were times of ignorance which was content to be ignorance, and which resented any endeavour to enlighten it. They were times of indifference which disliked any trouble in religion, and coveted easy absolution for permitted sin. 1877.] "OXFORD UNDER TWO QUEENS." They were times of stolid attachment to all ancient traditions. The tra- ditions might be baseless, foolish, cruel, but the hoar of antiquity was on them, and those were branded as pestilent fellows who would attempt to sweep them away. . . If we think of these times with all their conditions of disadvantage — the Queen upon the throne intent upon coercing mind ; freedom of opinion under ban ; spiritual thought dormant or sepulchred ; the graces caricatured or absent ; faith, blind herself, blinding the eyes of hope', and strangling charity outright, because it was not fit that she should live ; and then if we look at our own times, sinister enough, God knows, in some of their aspects, but with the Queen upon the throne the patron and promoter of religious liberty, all the machinery of the constitution ready to be set in motion to screen a peasjint's thatch, if wrong assail it, and to protect the beggar's conscience if he but fancy it aggrieved ; with awakened thought covetous of all kinds of knowledge ; mth juster views of the nobility of man, and of the nature and claims of God ; with the light shining clear and accessible even in the midst of darkness that can hardly comprehend it, and in more favoured quarters rising into a very noon of gi'aciousness and blessing — there is enough to move us to humility and thankfulness ; for ' the lines have fallen to us in pleasant places, and we have a goodly heritage.' "We will not dwell upon the cruelties of the former time. It is not our business to embitter, but to heal. We send not forth the raven from our ark, bird of hoarse note and evil omen ; we send forth the dove, and if it can find an olive-branch amid the waste of waters, we hail its return as the harbinger of peace. Moreover, as Keble says, ' Our loathing were but lost, Of dead men's crimes and old idolatries.' if we were not more keenly alive to the lessons which the ages teach. We are by no means apologists for the Marian persecutions, nor for the more inexcusable persecutions of those who, Protestant in name, have set up little papacies of their own ; but we ought not to forget that by that mar- vellous alchemy by which our God turns a curse into a blessing, we owe something of the robustness of our present faith to the persecutions that came upon our fathers. Persecution is the confession of defeat, the last resource of a beaten adversary. If, in the first age of Chi'istianity, the enemies of the Cross could have disproved what the apostles alleged, it would have been strangled in its birth, and the Jews might have rejoiced that in the rock-hewn sepulchre they had entombed both the impostor and his doctrine. But alike in the Hall and the Sanhedrim came the admission, 'We cannot gainsay it,' followed swiftly by the expedient of their rage, ' But we can put it down.' And thus has it been in aU ages. Persecution has made witnesses, who have inspired and confii-med other witnesses ; and so the truth has been preserved, and has prevailed. . . . Every imprisoned 440 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. x\ai. apostle, every reviled confessor is our witness ; every Huguenot in the dungeon, and every Lollard at the stake, is our witness ; every Puritan hounded through the glen, and every Covenanter chased among the heather, is our witness ; every Christian slave done to death by his oppressor, every missionary butchered in his holy toil, every martjT soar- ing heavenward in his shroud of flame, is our mtness that ' we have not followed cunningly devised fables,' and that our faith stands, ' not in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.' . . . ■' Now that these circumstances arc altered, it may be that the age is not altogether the gainer. Now that Christianity has become fashionable, the temptations to insincere profession and to superficial piety are greater. I have sometimes wondered what would be the effect if in our times the Churches were subjected to a baptism of fire, if some Saul were again to make havoc of the Church, or some Caliguhi or Hadrian were to purify it with lustrations of blood. Alas ! when interest can seduce men from their allegiance, and the finger of derision can turn them out of the way, it is to be feared that if real persecution were to come there would be many startling aposta.sies, and that the avenues of the broad road would be inconveniently crowded with recreant professors of religion. ... It took men a long time to understand the true nature of the Church's unity. Indeed, there are some who are indocile scholars yet. Quiescence in what had been and what was, carried with it — would always be, ought always to be, mufit always be. Men reasoned like the Duke of Guise in the beginning of the old French struggles ; ' They live contented under one form of government, why in the world should they want two forms of religion ? ' These ideas were fostered by the indifference of the many, and by the tyrannous wakefulness of the few who built, while others slumbered, the high walls of their spiritual power. It was not likely, as mind awoke, that this stagnant uniformitj' .should continue. It was felt that what was contradicted by all natui'c was an unnatural bond ii\ wliich to swathe free men. You may deal with a dead man as you like. The mute lips will not remonstrate however the limbs arc twisted ; but life rebels against unseemly handling. Hence, though often repressed, the right of private judgment was demanded as a birthright. Through the haze of obscui-ity its grandeur began to be comprehended, and after years of conflict and of })lood this ultimate principle of Protestantism was won. And now, perhaps, the danger is that, in recoil from the ancient error of intolerance, we should be snared by ' the falsehood of extremes.' . . . " The error of the Marian age was in the bigotry that tolerated nothing but what was prescribed by authority, :i.s if, as Gotthold says, ' the wit of all mankind were apprenticed to their wisdom.' Tlie error of the Vic- torian age bids fair to l)e tlie utter repudiation of authority, even of that which knowledge and cxiKjrience give ; the rushing into frantic conceits for daring's sake ; the proceeding upon the assumption that the belief of iS;;.] "OXFORD UNDER TWO QUEENSr 441 any doctrine by any body of men is a piima facte reason for not believing it om-selves. . . In the days of Mary, Oxford was the scene of martyrdom. In the days when John Wesley and his followers met in what was nick- named the Godly Club, ungodliness was its prevailing sin ; in our days it may be feared that sacerdotalism on the one hand, and impatience of restraint leading to intellectual anarchy on the other, are its twin dangers, though they work from opposite poles. . . . There is, I cannot but believe, on the side of infidelity, a more determined assault upon our historic gospel than any former times have witnessed ; and an organised conspiracy on the part of the unsleeping Church of Rome, to regain its former ascendancy, a conspiracy backed by those who, in other guise, are repeating the experiment of the Trojan horse, and endangering the city by treason. We can meet these perils, under God, only by the personal and united activity of all who hold the truth as it is in Jesus, maintaining that spiritual freedom and those sacred principles which are the true sources of our national strength. If we in this land of privilege betray our trust, our ruin may be speedy and complete ; if we be faithful there need be no bounds to the greatness of our national pi-ogress. " Our great poet was a prophet also when he said — " This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror. Save when it first did help to wound itself— .... Nought shall make us rue If England to herself do but prove true.' " CHAPTEE XVIII. MISCELLANEO US. Varied Experiences of a Popular Preacher. — Letters from Strangers. — Crowded Audiences. — Newspaper Comments and Criticisms. — Statistics of Lecturing. — Home Life. — Friendships. — Recreations. — Recollectiona by Rev. Nevison Loraine. It will be convenient to devote the present chapter to some aspects and incidents of Dr. Punshou's life, both public and private, that have hitherto been passed by, or but slightly referred to. The experiences of a popular preacher are strangely varied. Among those whom he attracts are repre- sentatives of almost every type of human nature, the credulous and the sceptical, the foolish and the devout. His counsel is sought by many who are but triflers, and by some who are terribly in earnest. He is the mark for anonymous letter-writers, and for those who, apparently for lack of anythiug better to do, indite their crude and weak imaginings for his benefit. The same post will bring him a request for his views on the millennium, an angry rebuke for his last sermon, an inquiry as to the best method of cultivating the mind, accompanied by an essay which he is asked to read and to return to the writer with his comments upon it, a gushing epistle from a MISCELLANEOUS.] VARIED CORRESPONDENCE. 443 young lady to say that on hearing him she had felt for the first time that she was understood, that his " sympathy had unlocked the portals of her heart," and, along with these, it may be, a brief imploring note from some unhappy stranger. Few men have had ampler experience than Dr. Punshon of the variety of correspondence that pours in upon a public man. He made a point of answer- ing all letters that were fairly answerable, but there were many that could not be so considered. Swift consignment to the waste-paper basket was the only possible course. Others were preserved for the sake of some quality they possessed, — pungent, pathetic, or ridiculous, — and these came, in time, to form a large collection. Others again involved him in the duty, from which he never shrank when the duty appeared, of writing a careful reply. Often in his busiest days would he find time to write letters of counsel, or encouragement, or warning, for which those who re- ceived them had much cause to be grateful. Letters of thanks for good received through his ministry were ever welcome to him. The following are taken from among many. A schoolmaster in the West of Eagland writes to tell him that he owed his conversion to a sermon preached by him in Norfolk Street Chapel, Sheffield, seven years before. From Rev. J. H. Noktox. " I have met with one this morning who wishes he could have spoken to you last night. When you preached your fii-st sermon in Chesterfield many years ago, his brother, who was a wicked young man, and at that time contemplating suicide, came to hear you. The service led to his conversion. He gave proof for nine years of the change wrought in him by the Holy Spirit, and then died in the Lord." 444 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap, xviii. A father and mother write to tell him of the death of their son, a 'prentice lad of sixteen years old :— " In the intervals of delirium he often mentioned you to us. It appears he had frequently attended your ministry, and had heard many earnest and faithful sermons preached by you, and they had made a great im- pression on his mind, as he frequently referred to them in his affliction, which continued nearly eight weeks. His end was peace. Dear sir, we are all strangers to you. You have probably never seen the dear youth I now mention, but we feel grateful to you for the religious im- pression which your preaching, through the blessing of God, produced upon his mind.' A pupil-teacher in Yorkshire writes : — " Accept my thanks for being the means of my conversion. I cannot describe the feeling that I have in my heart towards you. Xever since I found peace with God have I passed a single day without praying that you may be made a blessing to others as you have been to me." He concludes : — " If you ever came into our neighbourhood, sir, we should be very happy to see you. My father is only a working man, but we should be glad to see you. We have your portrait hung up on the wall." From a young widow : — " I was left at twenty-six years of age a widow with a broken heart and a blighted future, but still with a strong tie to life and action, having a dear boy of two and a half ycai-s old to provide for and to love. At first I felt very rebellious ; in my selfish grief, I would have hung the earth in one universal pall. I felt angry with God for blasting the beautiful gourd under the shadow of which I had so long reclined. Your sympa- thetic words to the sorrowful first attracted me. It seemed as though you were preaching to me. ... I hope you will pardon the liberty I have taken, and accept the humble gratitude of one in whose desolate heart you have caused a joy to .spring up. deeper and more satisfying than has been known before." From Rkv. W. E. Gahdnkk. " Some time ago, in s(x;ial converse, my host related to his guests the following ' Experience,' which I feel it my duty to repeat to you :is nearly as possible in his own words. ' I shiUl be fifty-eight next March. My parents were moral. I lost any religion I might have previously had during our great Reform agitation. I took to vicious ways. I becjime a MISCELLANEOUS.] SEED BY THE WAY. 445 sporting character, and was known as . I was Bob Brettle's bottle- holder, and brought out Jem Mace, champion of the world. Just as a humbler, I preserve a cup (which he showed us) blown for me by Brettle himself. He was by trade a g:lass-blower. I wrote articles for the sport- ing papers, and people used to wi'ite to me for advice how they should lay their bets. I kept a well-frequented public-house. I intended open- ing another, and had paid £10 deposit money. " ' One day I was passing near an old chapel at St. Martin's, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years ago, and saw a crowd. They were pushing in to hear Mr. Punshon. I followed, though T had on my sporting dress. What a rush of old feelings came over me when I got inside. I'm not clear about the text, but I remember that I felt miserable in the extreme. He did touch me up. I went home and up to my bedroom, and fell down and wept and roared before God. I took off my jacket to it. Christ came to me early next morning. " ' When I got up I rushed off to the man to whom I had paid the deposit, and asked him to release me as I was going to give up my old life. He did so on my consenting to forfeit £9. When my former associates came and asked, ' Which will win ? ' I used to say, ' I don't know nor care ; I've nothing to do with that now. I'll tell you WilO will win — Jesus Christ.' For years I had to bear their oaths and sneers. Now, however, they leave me alone, thank God.' " The narrator is a highly respectable man, a class-leader, and local- preacher." The following letter possesses a double interest. It was the last of the kind that Dr. Punshon received, for its date is February 25th, 1881, a few days before he left home upon the journey from which he only returned to die ; and it was written by the Kev. Edward Day, one of the devoutest and most thought- ful men in the Methodist ministry, at once an invalid and an earnest worker, who has himself also since then entered into rest : — " Ever since your visit to me I have been so grateful for the counsel and encouragement you then gave me, that I feel I must write and tell you of the issue of the painful conflicts through which I was then passing. They were terrible conflicts indeed, and lasted for several months after onr interview, but I am thankful to say that light and peace came at last. " Again and again have many of your remarks recurred to me. Among 446 W. MORLBY PUNSHON. [chap. xvni. them was one to the effect that God might be permitting me to pass through these painful experiences to prepare me for greater usefulness, and to give me deeper sympathy with sinners. Whether the former will come true I do not know, I hope it may. The latter has come already. I never felt for sinners in their darkness and sorrow such a fellow-feeling as I do now, and I am trying to turn that to some account. I think you must have been specially guided by the Holy Spirit in many of your remarks. They had an appropriateness you could hardly know at the time, and were adapted to meet dark and teri'ible temptations which I did not and could not tell you. I pray that you may be yourself comforted with the comfort wherewith you have comforted others." The following are of a somewhat different cha- racter : — " I cannot say I desire to love God, but I desire to desire to love Him. Do you know what I mean ? Are you certain — oh, remember that this question is one of life or death to me — are you certain that Jesus Christloves every one ? I am twenty-five years old, and have been untruthful, insincere, and utterly selfish and lazy ever since I ain remember. I seem \jo be one of those spoken of as ' going astray and speaking lies ' from their birth. I don't beheve any one so vile and mean as I ever lived. How am I to get true faith ? . . . I could not tell you all this if I were speaking to you ; as it is I don't mind, because you will never know who I am, unless, by God s great mercy, I get to heaven by-and-by, and then, if you re- membered this letter, you would be glad to know I had got there. Will you answer my questions ? Especially, tell me how to pray. What does God mean in saying, ' I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy," etc. ? I suppose I am one of those on whom He will not have mercy." One who by reason of business troubles, bank- ruptcy, etc., had lost hope and drifted from his connection with the Church, writes to thank him for words of sympathy and encouragement : — " God bless you, my dear sir. There are many, like myself, willing to return. Pray welcome them. You have subdued me, and broken my heart into contrition." From a Komau Catholic lady : — '■ I still think there are some passages that seem to favour the claims of the Catholic Church, such as, ' I say unto thee, Thou art Peter,' etc. But it is clear to me that the extreme reverence paid to the Bles,sed Virgin is wrong, and the sacrifice of the Mass seems to ine within the last three MISCELLANEOUS.] J)IVERS REQUESTS. 447 weeks so unscriptural, opposed to the whole tenor of the Epistle to the Hebrews, that I must leave. I have prayed, I believe sincerely, that we may be directed in the right path, especially my poor son, who is in the Jesuit novitiate. On Saturday I received the enclosed letter from him. I cannot let him go to Rome, and have sent for him to return immediately. Pray for us, and if you could assist me by your advice as regards my son, I should be grateful." One who describes himself as " a fast young man," — in plain English, a vicious and dissipated fellow," writes in a tone of melancholy recklessness : — " Having listened with some good effect to a sermon you preached a long time ago in Victoria Chapel, I thought I would write and ask your advice, because I think you know enough of life to understand better than most ministers the peculiar combination of ambitious desires and grovelling passions, high hopes and weak-minded follies, golden promises and lament- able performances with which my character abounds." Mingled with letters like these are requests of various kinds. A young lady sends him two or three texts from which she desires to hear him preach. An- other says, " I want you to write me a piece of poetry to keep in memory of you." One young man wishes for a little information on the subject of original sin." Another wants to know " how the ark as described by Moses could possibly hold the number of creatures spoken of, and how Noah, with all his family to assist, could perform the daily Herculean task of cleansing the ark ? ' ' A youth who dates from St. Paul's Churchyard, after hearing him lecture on Tlie Prophet of Horeh, writes : — " It was too richly clad in the garb of fascinating language to pass from the memory of any who heard it, much less from the mind of a devotee at the shrine of Apollo. I have long desired to be honoured by your friendship, but have not hitherto found opportunity to gratify that longing ! " 448 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap, xviii. He then modestly asks for a personal interview, that the long-desired friendship may begin as soon as possible ! A correspondent in the North of England has a case of conscience, and desires advice. He has joined an artillery Volunteer corps, which has given offence to some of the members of the Church, " especially those of little mind." " My motive for doing so was only this. I am a thorough Englishman, not a Jackab'tn in any sense of the word. In me it is entirdy defennive. For, if my beloved country should be invaded by any foreign foe, I should be ashamed of myself if I did not know something of the best means of dealing with an invader, and defending my dear wife, children, and interests. Your opinion, my dear sir, on this matter would settle the subject in my own mind entirely. I need not tell you that all the men joining these corps are not as good as we might desire them." The letter of an anonymous admirer begins abruptly : — "O CiiKVSOSTOM ! this day have I first known pleasure. Yes, more than thirty years have I lived, and it has been reserved to this day and to thee to thrill my inmost chords of emotion. . . . By men of every grade and dignity in our Church have I lieard its liturgy read, intoned, recitetl, jumbled, mumbled, in every possible manner spoiled and errone- ously rendered. I never before heard it prayed." But anonymous letters were not all eulogistic, as will be seen from the following : — " It is (juite useless to expatiate, as you too often do, on the grandeur of redemption and the priceless value of the Atonement. It is all a fiction. The word Atonement is not in the Greek Testament, as every scholar knows ; and the thing itself is absolutely impossible, as is fully seen by every mathematical logician. . . . By introducing the fact and the necessity of a Second Person in a consubstantial Trinity, you make Christianity itself illogical and absurd. Yet upon this fabulous Trinity you erect an artificial fabric of false doctrine, and thrust truth down deeper into the well of Plato. " I have heard you several times. Your lecture on Bunyan fell point- less to the ground. That before the Young Men's Christian Association MISCELLANEOUS.] ^/'^^^Z FROM A ROMA JV CATHOLIC. 449 was declamatory, et pr(zterea nihil. I prefer a hundred lines of Horace to all the lines you recited from the modern poets. It is your sermons that astonish ami please me. After hearing you I am affected for a week, and sometimes I wake in the night filled with visions of a beautiful futurity. " On Tuesday evening next, when I hope to have the pleasure of hearing you, I cannot expect or desire that you should declaim against Christianity itself, unless you disbelieve its divinity as sincerely as I do. I should be unusually pleased if you would discourse on any topic of human or supernal interest, courageously leaving out of your sermon for once the unsub- stantial and hackneyed phrases of salvation by grace, justification by faith, and expiatory sacrifices, which are either artificial creations of superstition or remnants of heathenism. My intellect will thus receive a less violent concussion, when fictions are not presented to me as truth by one of your superior talents ; and whilst I resign myself for an hour to the magic of your eloquence, the sentimental or spiritual part of my nature may receive a delightful impulse on the road towards Tinith, the pursuit of which is with me a labour of love." In contrast with the foregoing, is the following appeal from a Eoman Catholic after hearing him lecture in Bristol : — " Why is youi' lot with those who are the enemies of the Church of God ? The Church parallels you with S. Vincent, S. Ignatius, S. Charles, and a host of great preachers of the gospel of Christ. Join the noble army of teachers. Call up their spirit, which is fast decaying among us; so shall Divine grace turn your obedience to the greater glory of God in conversions as numerous and effective as blessed the labours of your prototypes. We have need of you in the Catholic Church. Be not content with preaching the baptism of repentance. Take to yourself the orders and mission of the Church of Rome, that sacramental grace may crown your mighty but unhallowed labours in the service of her Lord." These examples will suffice. It will be seen that from the outer circle of his correspondents he some- times received words that cheered and comforted him, and not infrequently that which woke his sense of humour — revealed to those about him by the smile lurking round his mouth, or by hearty, irrepressible laughter. Often there was nothing to redeem a half score of letters from utter unprofitableness ; and 29 450 JV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap, xviil. sometimes a sting like that of a serpent pierced him unexpectedly, — a slander or an insult launched from the safe concealment so dear to the mean and the malicious. But, on the whole, the letters received during the years of his ministry show that his influ- ence was of wide and varied range, and furnish ground for the belief that in many an unrecorded instance it was an influence for highest and for lasting good. Of Dr. Punshon's popularity as a preacher and lecturer much has been said in the course of this biography. It might be further illustrated in various ways. The ingenuity of newspaper writers on both sides of the Atlantic was often strained to the utter- most in the attempt to describe his audiences, — the numbers, the eagerness, the excitement. Persons usually measured in their speech grew eloquent as they described their impressions. On one occasion, when he preached at Gloucester, apology was made to a certain prominent citizen at the close of the service that, in consequence of the great crowd, it had been found impossible to provide him a seat. " Sir, I would have stood upon my head to liear him," was the immediate answer. A Chicago newspaper thus describes the scene at the hall where Dr. Punshon preached on a Sunday afternoon in May 1868 :— " An hour before the door opened the scene in the street was a picture. The crowd swayed up and down Washington Street, stopping all kinds of communication. Men in the struggling mass were crying out, ' Hold back there,' ' Don't crowd so,' ' Act like civilized men.' Women cried, and would have fainted if it had been a good place for it. " When the door was opened, and the crowd were lifting each other in one sweeping human avalanche through the passage way, a man set the whole crowd into a roar of laughter by crying out lustily, ' Hold on there. Press back, gentlemen, I have lost my wife ! ' MISCELLANEOUS.] NEWSPAPER CRPnCISMS. 451 " A score of policemen at the doors vainly endeavoured to check the storm, but, breaking over all boundaries, the people poured up the broad stairs and into the spacious auditorium, until everj' inch where man could stand, or hawj with one foot resting upon a footing, was full to its utmost capacity." Lecturing at Boston, a newspaper says : — " Every seat was occupied, and nearly two thousand dollars taken ; the largest amount ever realised in this city for a single lecture, and only excelled, if excelled, by Charles Dickens. The most celebrated of Uving story-tellers brought no larger sums to his purse than this Methodist minister did — not to his purse, for he puts no money there, as he could easily do, but to the charities of the Church." Wlien lie lectured at Chicago for the Young Men's Christian Association, this sum was largely exceeded. In England the proceeds of a single lecture would range from .£50 to £200. At Leeds on one occasion 2,750 shilhng tickets were sold, and as much as half- a-sovereign offered for one. In looking over a number of newspaper eulogies and criticisms of Dr. Punshon's eloquence, it is amusing to notice the desperate straits into which some of his critics are brought in their effort to convey an adequate notion of his powers, and the variety of metaphors and comparisons from which they seek assistance. One critic says : — " His style is florid, vehement, eloquent, and impassioned — bubbling, rushing and dashing on over every obstacle, until audience and speaker are alike roused to the highest enthusiasm. It is no wonder that crowds flock to hear his wizard-like spells," Another says : — " We have listened to most of the popular speakers of the day, both in the pulpit and on the platform, but we never before heard any one who comes so near the ideal we have formed of a Burke or Sheridan, combined with the gospel zeal of a Wesley or Whitefield. ' 452 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap, xviii. From a Liverpool paper we take the following : — " The sermon occupied an hour in delivery, during which the attention of the vast audience was entirely absorbed. It contained passages of sur- passing brilliancy, great analytical skill, and touching and terrible appeal. We understand that one very singular contribution was made to the collection. An old lady who was present testified her admii-ation of the preacher's talent by depositing on the plate that came round to her a very handsome embroidered pair of slippers." One writer speaks of " the beauty of finish, the gorgeous vocabulary, the pungent aphorism, the rain- bow-tinted play of fancy." Another says : — " For Niagara-like eloquence, and John Baptist-like fidelity, he sur- passes all the Christian orators I have heard." The following enters more into detail : — " The ordinary course of the sermon is like the music of a hidden brook in the leafy month of June. But intermingled with this are occasional sounds from the far-off waterfall, and sudden sweeps of the tornado and the storm. . . . He can breathe out his pure, beautiful, quiet, and bles.sed sentences softly as a summer evening breeze ; or he can hurry his words along and brood over the pulpit like a very storm spirit, while every hejirt heaves beneath the volumes of his power. Sometimes the waters of his eloquence flow and fall like a clear, cool, and refreshing spring ; and sometimes they boil and shoot forth like the jet of an Iceland geyser." The American newspapers are even less unre- strained in using the language of admiration aud eulogy. The following is a good specimen : — " His words leap from his lips as tongues of fire, and like hissing ser- pents they wind through your imagination and soul, burning up every other idea or thought save the one they were sent to convey. The stream is uninterrupted ; every word fits to its place as a block from the anvil of an angelic forge, studded with burning sapphire. His sermon is a piece of mosaic utterly beyond the ability of a pen to reproduce." This fine confusion of fire and serpents, anvils and mosaics, bears witness to the writer's enthusiasm, and in that respect at least is not without value. MISCELLANEOUS.] NEWSPAPER CRITICISMS. 453 Anotlier report, equally expressive of an admiration not to be hampered by narrow rules against mixed metaphors, concludes as follows : — " He does not dt'own his ideas in language ; he employs just enough of his mother tongue to express his meaning ; he leaves the naked truth in his hearer's possession, who forgets forthwith that it was ever enveloped ill the chaff of words ! " A newspaper called TJie {Standard gave a minute description of Dr. Punshon's person, voice, manner, and style, from which an extract or two may be interesting for various reasons : — " Person large and strongly built, tending just slightly to corpulency ; head squarely and solidly set upon a strong neck ; forehead full at the base, but slightly sloping and narrowing as it rises ; hair straight, and so thin at the parting as to suggest (only suggest) baldness ; eyes small — or perhaps, rather, made to seem half shut by heavy eyelids ; nose notice- ably broad at the nostrils, cheeks decidedly heavy ; mouth and chin having nothing about them noticeable, harmonising entirely with the rest of the face ; whole cast of features impressive, but stolid, heavy, Englishy ; — such is the physical Dr. Putishon. " He comes forward and begins his discourse with almost as little ado as Wendell Phillips. His style of oratory is much the same as that of Phillips, though more rhetorical, more artificial. . . . Often, especially in the early part of his address, he will stand a considerable time at once on one foot, his body leaned forward, his hands holding either side of the desk before him, and his unused leg crossed awkwardly behind the other. All this, however, ten chances to one you do not notice. As soon as he begins to speak the man is lost in the orator. Nay, the orator is lost in the oratory. His words chain you, and you forget all else. " The pronunciation of the orator smacks of the side of the ocean from which he comes. Yet notwithstanding variations from American usage, his pronunciation is on the whole exceedingly chaste and elegant." A lengthy and glowing description of his style closes thus : — '' Did you ever sail by swift boat, in the midst of our glorious autumn, down the magnificent Hudson from Albany to the Palisades ? An oration of Punshon's is such a sail, only he never lets you stop by the way. More delightful, more picturesque, more variegated, more abso- 454 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap, xviii. lately wonderful and enchanting in its rapid succession of the beautiful and the sublime, even the unequalled panorama of the Hudson is not, than is the charming voyage over which without jar of engine or flash of wheels the silver-tongued orator almost unconsciously hurries you. " Are you a musician ? Mr. Punshon is the Rossini of orators. Are you a poet, or a lover of poetry ? Mr. Punshon is not Brj'anf, or Whittier, or Lowell, or Swinbm-ne, or Tennyson. He is Longfellow." x\ chapter might be filled with descriptions ol Dr. Punshon's personal appearance that have ap- peared in newspapers on both sides of the Atlantic. In these descriptions, negation and affirmation often balance one another through successive paragraphs, as for example : — " Mr. Punshon is not a handsome man. and he is nothing of a fop ; there is in his build a sound English compactness, and in his dress the style of a plain Engli.sh gentleman." " There is no coquetry in his manner ; not a jot of show off. He does not wait to throw his hair from his forehead, to produce a delicately scented pocket-handkerchief, to adjust his coat collar. See him as he rises, big, burly, and strongly knit, M'ith a face in which common sense, shrewdness, benevolence, and mental power are insensibly blended." " Mr. Punshon's appearance is neither grand, striking, nor even notice- able. He might ride in the omnibus, travel by rail, or walk the streets without any one caring to ask his neighbour, ' Do you know who that is ?i He is of middle height, broad-set figure with a tendency to stoutness, with small but piercing eyes shooting from under heavj' eyebrows, with a nose neither aquiline nor Grecian, nor yet a pug, but simply a full, fleshj', con- tented nose, occupying its fair share of the face ; the mouth and chin are indicative of good humour rather than of decision of character. He is neither ugly nor handsome, but a compromise between the two." American descriptions almost invariably speak of his eminently English appearance, and one of them has for its climax, " weight above two hundred pounds ! " A careful examination of all available data furnishes some interesting facts respecting Dr. Punshon's labours as a lecturer. Tlie following is the order in MISCELLANEOUS.] LF.CTURING STATISTICS. 455 which his lectures were produced : — Literature, Science, and Religion, prior to 1854 ; The Prophet of Horeh, January, 1854 ; Bumjan, February, 1857 ; The Huguenots, February, 1859 ; Daniel in Babylon, March, 1861 ; Macaulaij, January, 1862 ; Wesley and his Times, February, 1863 ; Wilberforce, January, 1865 ; Florence and its Memories, March, 1868 ; The Men of the Mayfioioer, January, 1872. The Prophet of Horeb was not delivered more than six or seven times, as it was published soon after its first deUvery. The other lectures were given in the United Kingdom and in America as follows : — Florence and its Memories, thirty times ; Wilber- /orce, thirty-two; Bunyan, thirty-four; The Huguenots, forty-eight ; Literature, Science, and Beligion, fifty- two ; Wesley, sixty-five ; Macaulay, sixty-eight ; Men of the Mayfioiver, one hundred and twenty-eight ; and Daniel in Babylon, one hundred and fifty-eight times, giving a total of six hundred and twenty-one. To these must be added some thirty other occasions on which he delivered less formal lectures, mainly composed of readings from the poets ; and it would be a fair summary of his labours to say that between 1854 and 1881 Dr. Punshon lectured six hundred and fifty times, to audiences ranging from five hundred to five thousand persons. During that period there were three years in which he gave no lectures, viz., 1866 and 1875 and 1876. The years spent in America were those of his highest activity as a lecturer. From 1868 to 1872 inclusive, he lectured no less than two hundred and ninety- three times. It would be a very moderate estimate to say that in this way he raised fifty or sixty 456 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap, xviii. thousand pounds for various branches of Christian work ; but far beyond that must be considered the mental and moral stimulus given to tens of thousands of persons, a stimulus leading in numberless instances to higher and more fruitful life. Even in Dr. Punshon's busiest days, his journal shows how fondly his "heart untravelled " turned toward home. There were his deepest joys and his keenest sorrows ; but from the character of his duties, his love of home was of the nature of an unsatisfied affection, one whose periods of enjoyment were broken by long and frequent intervals of privation. His capacity for home life "lacked opportunity," and for many years his desire for it was, save for snatches of possession, a "hope deferred." In the autumn of 1876, being no longer engaged in Circuit-work, he took up his residence at Tranhy, a house that he had purchased on Brixton Hill. The feeling that he had at last a fixed abode, and a home of his own, gave him much innocent pleasure. He realised that hitherto he had only dwelt in tents ; now, so far as this life was concerned, he was a stranger and a sojom-ner no more. His settlement at Tranhij was in all respects a happy one. It gave him as neighbours some of his most valued friends, and it connected him with the Brixton Circuit in many ways that were beneficial to the Circuit and agree- able to himself. A principal feature of the house was the study, a room of noble dimensions, which he furnished with much taste ; and when his books were on the shelves, and his cabinets and albums, his collection of autographs and other treasures all conveniently MISCELLANEOUS.] HOME LIFE. 457 arranged, this room became the sanctum or inner court of the house, consecrated aHke to devotion and to study, to correspondence and business, to recreation with his friends, and to domestic happi- ness. Many remember the study at Tranhy as the genial centre of its household life, the focus to which its occupations and interests converged, where all that makes home happy found its in- tensest expression. He liked to have his fiiends about him, — both the older ones, the faithful com- panions of many years, and young people, towards whom he had an inexhaustible affection and num- berless ways of showing kindness. The pleasure that he took in his house was a sort of outward and visible sign of the joy he had in his home. No one, indeed, truly knew him to whom his home life was unknown. It was there that his character shone with its steadiest light, and all that was best, brightest, and most tender in him was revealed. His interest in those around him found expression in many ways, in none more charac- teristic than his prayers in the family, when the special needs of one and another were touched upon with equal tenderness and discrimination. Birth- days and other anniversaries, both joyous and sad, were carefully remembered. Scarcely a week passed, the whole year round, that he did not write one or more letters of congratulation or condolence. It was his habit to bring to the breakfast-table on Sunday morning his well-filled birthday-book, and lovingly go over the names of those whose anniver- saries were drawing near. Another book which usually came to the Sunday breakfast-table was The Chris- 458 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap, xviii. tian Year, from which he would read aloud the poem for the day. When at home on the Sunday afternoon he engaged in special intercessions for his family, praying with deep earnestness for his sons, and "an unbroken family in heaven" at last. In family prayer he would frequently quote the lines : — " Could I be cast where Thou art not, That were indeed a dreadful lot ; But regions none remote I call, Secure of finding God in all." His little granddaughter in Canada, for her own and for her mother's sake, had a sacred place in his heart. He loved to write to her in great printed capitals, easy for a child to read. On her fourth birthday he wrote : — "AND GRANDPAPA MUST HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY TO DARLING LITTLE ELLIE ALSO, FOR HE THINKS ABOUT HER AND LOVES HER SO MUCH. AND HE HOPES SOME TIME SOON PAPA WILL BRING HER OVER THE BIG WATER, THAT SHE MAY CREEP CLOSER INTO GRANDPAPA'S HEART, AND CLIMB ON HIS KNEE, AND REMIND HIM OF DEAR MAMMA WHO IS IN HEAVEN. AND THEN WE WILL TROT OUT TOGETHER AND SEE ALL THE FINE THINGS IN THIS GREAT LONDON. MANY, MANY HAPPY RETURNS OF ELLIE'S BIRTHDAY. LOTS OF LOVE AND KISSES. I HOPE SHE WILL GROW UP TO LOVE JESUS WHO LOVES HER SO WELL. AND SO GRANDPAPA SENDS LOVE TO PAPA, AND FUNNILY SIGNS HIS NAME " GRAND \\ PUNSHON." A year later the letter is not printed, but "writ large," as suited the growing accomplishments of a five-year-old maiden : — "Poor grandpapa has got a very bad bronchial cold. That strange- looking word is so big and wonderful that Ellie will hardly know what it means ; but Elbe's papa, who is very wise, will tell her if .she asks him prettily. But while he coughs so —Ts-fe—Ts-ah — rs-a, there is a heart below inside that goes on ticking, ticking with love for Ellie. And as it MISCELLANEOUS.] HIS FRTENDSHIPS. 459 is her birthday to-day, grandpapa says to all his letters, aud to the people that want him, — ' You stay on one side, while 1 tallt a little bit to my sweet Ellie across the sea. Don't you know that she is five years old to-day ? ' And then, of course, they all see it right that little ladies should be attended to. Well, grandpapa prays God bless little Ellie with health and peace, and love to the dear Saviour, and all happiness ; and that she may gi-ow and grow until she can come over to see grandpapa, and he will show her all the great glories of London, and she must lay hold of papa, and bring him also, and her dear new mamma, whom she loves. They must all come together." Loyalty and affection toward his friends were noticeable elements of Dr. Punshon's character. Friendship was with him no small or subordinate interest, but at once an instinct, a passion, and a duty. No change of scene or circumstance put him out of touch with early friends ; no amount of flattery from strangers spoiled him for chosen com- panionships, or gave him pleasure to be compared with that he derived from the honest love of such men as Eichard Eidgill and Wilham Hirst, of Thomas M'CuUagh and Gervase Smith. Com- mendation from them was more to him than popular applause. Amongst laymen were several with whom he was on terms of happy intimacy almost as close. With Sir Wm. M'Arthur, Mr. Whelpton, and Mr. May, his friendship was whole-hearted and unbroken. No man prized more highly the friend- ship of intelligent Christian women, and few have been more indebted to it than he for counsel, and sympathy, and help of various kinds. In the homes of his friends he was an ever- welcome guest alike to parents and to children. When in health he brought with him a glow as of sunshine, a spirit of hearty enjoyment that communicated itself to all, abundant kindliness, a wealth of good stories, 460 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap, xviii. and unlimited capacity for being interested in the affairs of others. When suffering and depressed, he was gentle, patient, and uncomplaining, a guest even more welcome to those who knew and loved him. Of the recreations in which he sought relief from his labours, the chief was travel. Of this he never wearied. Whether it was a few days snatched from his engagements, to be spent with a chosen friend or two in Scotland or the Lake district, in North Wales or Devonshire, or a glorious month in Switzerland or Italy, it seldom failed to brighten and refresh his spirit, and, in some degree at least, to improve his health. The collecting of autographs was a hobby of long standing. It was always a pleasure to him to open his portfolios and show his visitors the sign-manual of his monarchs, statesmen, and men of letters, possessions in which he rejoiced with an almost boyish glee. On the happy occasions of an evening at home, when his treasures had been examined, he was ever ready to give a reading from some poet, or, better still, a recitation, in which pleasant art most people would say they had never known his equal. In capping verses, and in all that pertained to verbal ingenuities, the making and guessing of riddles, the devisiug of puzzles and acrostics, he was a master, and would throw himself into them with much zest and enjoyment. These are little things ; and yet such little things, fringing life's severer employments, and serving to vary their strain, have their uses. They may reveal kindliness and simplicity of nature, and a genial temper unspoiled alike by MISCELLANEOUS.] MR. LORAINE' S RECOLLECTIONS. 461 prosperity and adversity. For this reason, perhaps, they hold their place among the pleasant memories of Morley Punshou that are cherished by his friends. These details may now give place to some recollec- tions of Dr. Punshon's earlier and later days, furnished by the Eev. Nevison Loraine, Vicar of Grove Park West, London : — "When first I saw and knew him, he was in the early years of his ministry, and I was quite a youth, just awaking to the joy of noble words. He had already won a wide reputation as a brilliant speaker, both on the platform and in the pulpit ; and wherever he was announced to speak eager crowds assembled to listen to the young orator. And very few who heard him in those early days of his vigour and freshness that did not own the spell of his unique and glowing style. He was very youthful in appearance, and looked, though young, even younger than his years. His movements were then active, and his figure was slight. His face, not by any means handsome, was singularly mobile, and radiant with a very winning kindness of expression. His eyes were small, but remarkably alert, and sparkling with humour. His voice was somewhat harsh, having a kind of metallic ring that at the outset of his speech grated upon the hearers ; but presently the ear became reconciled, and his peculiar vocal tones added force and intensity to his flowing and rapid utterance. His style was unusually illustrative and picturesque. It abounded in vivid descriptions of natural scenery, in allusions to literature and art, and apt though brief quotations. His sentences had a peculiar rhythmic beat and cadence. On the platform he gave full play to his humour and imagina- tion ; and used with singular aptitude and facility the events of the hour and the observations of preceding speakers with which to give point and effect to his own address. Yet, notwithstanding his fluent readiness in extemporaneous speech, which he freely exercised on minor occasions, his sermons and lectures were elaborated with great care, written out at length, and committed to memory with even verbal accuracy. His lecture on Tlxe Prophet of Horeb, remarkable as a brilliant popular oration, was scarcely less remarkable as a feat of memory. Until he was on the plat- form he did not decide whether to read his lecture or to attempt it memoriter. The occasion was one that awakened his modest apprehen- sions. He was young, new to a London platform, and many of his colleagues in that series of lectures were distinguished men. The sight of the vast assembly, however, inspired him ; he ' took heart of grace ' and determined to 'speak without book.' But before rising he passed his manuscript to a friend on the platform, saying, ' Follow me, and if I falter 462 tV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap, xviii. give me the book.' There was no faltering. For nearly two hours he held the rapt attention of his audience ; and, as he afterwards related to me, his friend told him that ' he had not in delivery omitted a passage, and scarcely varied a phrase.' " From that night Morley Punshon took rank among the most eminent platform orators. It was on the platform that his eloquence found freest scope and amplest opportunity. In the pulpit he was more sober and self-restrained both in manner and style. His sermons represented in doctrine very decided evangelical Arminianism ; they were, however, rather elementary in teaching, dealing mainly with ' the principles of the doctrine of Christ.' In style they were veiy ornate, lavish in apt and skilfully pictured illustrations, and wrought into frequent climax, some- what after the manner of Melvill and Par.sons ; yet his style was entirely his own, the honest expression of his intellectual and moral idiosyncrasy ; and though it was evident that he spared no pains to give finish and effect to his discourses, they were yet so penetrated with earnest emotion that in his rhetoric heart was more than art. " In those far-ofE days of his earlier ministry, he was, I remember, occasionally described by critics, who imagine that they Ciin dismiss a reputation with a phrase, as a ' flowery preacher,' and others, too, not indeed ' moved with envy,' but struck with his unusually imaginative and descriptive style, fell into a frequent fault of careless criticism in dealing with writers or speakers possessing eminently some special gift, of exalting the most conspicuous t;dent at the expense of the general balance of other faculties. But great gifts rarely stand alone. And beneath the highly picturesque and occasionally florid style of Morley Punshon, there were sound thought and earnest coindction. He was not, indeed, philosophical, profound, or very suggestive, but his percci)tions of truth were clear, his grasp was firm, and the arrangement lucid and logiciil. He spoke out of the fukiess of his heart, and his exuberant fancy clothed and adorned rather luxuriously the things he felt and spoke. " Morley Punshon's was a simple and manly nature. He had in him great depths of kindness. His popularity — and in his early ministry it was very remarkable — never spoiled him. Even in those younger years when responsibilities sit somewhat lightly on the life, ere the discipline of care and sorrow have -sobered the judgment and mellowed the will, I never saw in him sign of affectation or conceit. These are the sins of narrower natures than his. Occiisionally his manner appeared distant and reserved, but it was the result of an innate shj-ness that he never entirely mastered. He pleads, in one of his latest letters to me, his ' mauraLsc honte.^ '■ Very soon after my introduction to him we became, despite our dis- parity of years, closely attached and confidential friends. And the frank- ness and generosity of his nature betrayed itself in the freedom with which he conferred with and confided in his younger friend. Though for MISCELLANEOUS.] MR. LORAINE' S RECOLLECTIONS. 463 the last twenty years of his life and more we saw each other very rarely — divided by distance, and, in some matters that we both held dear, separated in opinion, and with occasional long intervals of silence in our correspondence — yet, through all changes and chances, our deep and quiet friendship lived on unchanged. He was not given to change. His life gave more than one proof of the patient fidelity of his heart. " In 1873 I wrote to him, bidding him welcome back to England from his temporary settlement in Canada. He replied at once, in the old tone of trusting affection, telling me of the great sorrows that had ' eclipsed his life.' He told me, also, of his gi-eat journey aci'oss the American con- tinent to the Salt Lake City, California, Yo Semite Valley, etc. ; and he added, in his own style, ' It was a magnificent tour, considering that there were no legend-haunted castles nor spots of historic fame.' The kindness with which he was welcomed by his ministerial brethren touched him deeply ; and he expressed his grateful surprise at his ' election to the chair of the Second London District.' "In 1879 I had another long and touching letter from him, too con- fidential to transcribe. The burthen of its sorrow was the manifest fading away of his eldest son. He spoke of his son's ' sudden illness at Cambridge that had disappointed his hopes of University distinction,' his subsequent reading for the bar, of his second break down with ' serious lung-mischief,' and added, ' so he breaks the crown of my pride.' Of himself he said ' he now felt that he must go softly under the increasing burthen of his years ; ' but with a noble and modest content he added, ' My ambitions have all been satisfied, and I am now an elder among my people, in a congenial sphere of service, with enough of honour and enough of love, longing, I trust, only to be made Christ-like, more trustful, more baptised for the heritage of unutterable peace.' "In January 1881 he wrote to me of their 'last family Christmas together,' for his son, he said, ' had entered the valley of the shadow of death.' He did not foresee his own end so near at hand, though he spoke of ' health not firm and spii'its not bright.' And in depressed tones he added, ' We buried Dr. Jobson yesterday. Coley has gone.' He men- tioned others, too, of familiar name who were in feeble health ; some of these 'are not,' others of them ' remain to this present.' He spoke also of ' many lay friends in sorrow,' mentioning particularly our common friends the Bancrofts. ' George is dead, and Arthur is come home to die ; but the Lord liveth, and we all may live in Him.' Thus he wept with them that wept, but the joy of hope .shone through his sympathetic tears. " In February I received his last note — the last of how many, specially in the earlier years, and how much valued for their fraternal friendship. It was but a line to say that his ' shattered nervous system had collapsed, that he was compelled to relinquish all public engagements, and was about 464 W. MO RLE Y PUNSHON. [chap, xviii. to start with his wife and son Percy for the Riviera, and haply, to give his wanderings an object, to visit our mission in Rome.' " A few weeks later I was in a friend's house where many were coming and going ; an evening newspaper was brought, and some one announced among the latest items of news, ' The death of the Rev.W. Morley Punshon.' The arrow reached my heart alone ; others in that company knew only that a famous orator had passed away, but I that my friend was dead. I went out to commune with that sorrow in solitude, to revive the memory of the buried years — incidents of tender friendship and scenes of sacred joy. " ' But in dear words of human speech We two communicate no more.' " Our first and our last meetings on earth were amid the solemnities of Divine worship. On the first occasion I listened with young surprise to the eloquent preacher. As I entered the pulpit of Holy Trinity Church, Bournemouth, a few months before his death, my eyes alighted instantly upon the familiar face of my friend. It awakened many memories, and evoked allusions and illustrations that I saw in his varying expression had for him special meaning. With the benediction of that service we parted on earth for ever. But " ' ... tho' my lips may breathe adieu, I cannot think the thing farewell.' Our next meeting will be amid the solemnities of nobler worship, and the unbroken joys of the life for evermore. " Mr. Loraine, in his " Kecollections," has anticipated the close of these memou's, but it was impossible to interrupt the course of a narrative so tender, dis- criminating, and complete. CHAPTER XIX. 1878— 1881. LONDON: MISSION HOUSE. Aged 54: to 56. Last Years of Labour. — Suffering and Depression. — Journal and Letters. — Death of his Eldest Son. — Last Journey to the Continent. — Illness. — Death. — Burial. — Sorrow in the Churches. — -Letters from Friends. Tbe beginning of the year 1878 found Dr. Punshon full of work, not in the best of health, but in fairly good spirits. Christmas had been, as usual, a happy time. Advent blessings, so often referred to by him, were realised afresh, and the home life felt the cus- tomary glow. Mr. and Mrs. Hirst, and a few other intimate friends, together with his three sons gathered round the table, and love and good wishes were sent over sea to the relatives in Canada, and to Mr. and Mrs. Gervase Smith in Australia. Then came the services of the closing and of the opening year, prized by him now as always, and never engaged in without emotion. On New Year's-eve he attended the watch-night service at Brixton Hill Chapel. Before doiog so, he wrote in his Journal : " The year is dying fast. I have been reviewing it, and am humbly conscious of much that has been unworthy ; but I trust in Christ, and, bound by many mercies hereby renew my covenant. I will be Thine, O 30 466 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xix. Lord, do with me what Thou wilt, put me to what service Thou wilt, and make me cheerful to obey." On the first Sunday of the year, he assisted Mr. Hirst in the Covenant Service at Mostyn Eoad, returning home " wearied, but blest," The Journal says : — " The year has not opened auspiciously so far as my own health is concerned ; but it has opened spiritually well." His list of engagements during the first half of the year recalls his most vigorous days. Though he had efficient colleagues at the Mission House who shared both his labours and his anxieties, that did not greatly lessen their weight. As Senior Secretary he exercised a kind of primacy — iprimus inter 'pares — and, in particular, carried the burden of the Society's financial afi"airs, not then in the most flourishing condition. In addition to his duties at the House, he spoke at missionary meetings in many parts of the country. Within a few weeks he visited West Bromwich, Bolton, Luton, Bradford, Hull, and Manchester. His speeches were mainly extempore, tbough now and again carried to a climax in a passage carefully prepared, and delivered with the old force and beauty. It was his custom to keep a brief record, so brief as to be scarcely intelhgible to any but himself, of the topics on which he spoke. The following are examples. "Bolton, Feh. 6th, 1878. — Perks. Moral culture. Review prin- ciples. Indian famine. Spain, ailments. Italy, Spezia, Rome. Men. Openings. Prophecy. Advent. Expiation. Resurrection. Empire." "Luton Feh. IHth, 1878. — Individual Christian life. Spain. Portugal. Italy. ' Too frightened to run away.' Men. Openings. Money. Power of littles. Milan Cathedral." "Manchester, Oldham Street, April 22nd, 1878— Agree with Chinese sages. Opium. ' Moral country.' Italy. Spain. Balearic Isles. Candidates, Salutation of peace. ' All hail.' Vindicate theology and i878.] MIS SI ON A R Y SPEECHES. 467 experience. West Indies. 1,000 increase. Several Circuits self-sup- porting. Income. Wars of Roses. Bolton v. Bradford. Manchester V. York. To-day. To-morrow. Encouragement and promise." "Eamng, Nov. 21.s<, 1878. — New Guinea. Joseph's bones. Dean Stanley. Who consecrated City Road Cemetery ? Bones of John Wesley. Spain. Openings. Carmichael. Cyprus. Japan. Transvaal. Individu- ality. Pansy. Revival. Harder work. For Zion's sake." His missionary speeches combined many elements, all well adjusted to one common end. There were statements of finance that the hearers could grasp and remember ; rapid surveys of the world's life, and the great moral issues involved ; narratives of toil and progress, of sowing and of reaping on many a mission station ; features of heathenism and corrupt Christianity portrayed ; instances of the power of the gospel ; the story of this or that native agent ; the permanent duties, motives, resources of the Christian Church ; illustrations from nature and from art ; gleams of humour ; a pleasant story now and again ; impassioned appeals to the conscience ; — these and the like in ever varying order and proportion gave to his speeches at once intellectual interest and moral power, and laid the sacred cause of Christian missions on many a heart. But his labours could not be confined to this, his own special department of Church work. Home missions, chapel building, education, philanthropy, young men's societies, all claimed and received his help. The form in which that help was sought was most frequently a lecture. After discontinuing his lectures for two or three years, he now resumed them. In 1878 he lectured twenty-seven times, and in the two following years twenty-four and thirty-four times respectively. It was, indeed, a kiud of Indian 468 JV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. XIX. summer with him, a brief coming back again of a season that had seemed over, a renewing of the past rather than a new beginning. This year it was chiefly Tlie Men of the Mayflower that he dehvered, a lectm'e scarcely known, as yet, in England. Towards the end of January he gave it three nights in succession, in three difi"erent towns. Among the towns where he lectured during the year were Leeds, Lancaster, Bolton, Burnley, Halifax, Birmingham, Bristol and Exeter. He also delivered addresses on America, on " Large-heartedness," and on Wyclif. The year's work was enough — more than enough — for a strong man, and he was that no longer. But the desire to work while it was day consumed him, and the habit of many years helped to carry him on in spite of diminishing power. Journal. "January I3th, 1878. — A week of labour. The world full of disquiet. Death in high places. The King of Italy cut down in his prime. The weather cheerless and trying, but my faith resting upon God, and I anxiously longing for the closer knowledge of His ways. " January 20th. — The nation disquieted with rumours of wars, but some- what reassured at the opening of Parliament. I trust the good Lord will preserve peace in our time. Some anxiety about — — whom I love for his sister's sake. For his sake have broken an implied rule against sureti- ship. " February 10th. — The pa.st fortnight has been an anxious one for Eng- land, and even yet it is not clear that we may not be involved in war. Our prayers should rise without ceasing that so ten'ible a scourge may be averted. There is, I fear, an increasmg war party in the country. The ministry are urged on by foolish followei's, and the nation is on the verge of losing its head, as on several former occasions. I have had laborious times, and have had to prosecute my work under painful conditions. An armful of boils, and a very severe dyspeptic attack have made labour difficult, and comparatively joyless. My mind has been, for the most part, equable and trusting. The Pope is dead at last. Mr. R. Bell of New- castle also called away. "February llth. — Much engaged in absorbing committee business dur- 1878.] JOURNAL. 469 ing the week. I long for more complete .self-command, and the power of reticence under provocation. Distressed about the relapse of one of whom I had hoped better things. Exerci.sed about others who are under clouds of doubt. The Lord reigneth, after all, and through various processes will bring men to Himself. " March 3rd. —A week of anxiety and labour, closing the missionary accounts, and grieving over a somewhat diminished income. Not well in health. Mr. Robert Marsden of Sheffield suddenly taken away, and dear little Constance Cole. " March \Oth. — -In journeyings oft, and consequent dissipation of thought. Some hopefulness in reference to the object of my late solicitude. Had letters from two fallen ministers, imploring my good offices, and each of them professing bitter penitence. It is a difficult question whether it would be right ever to employ them as ministers again. But should sins of the flesh, which Jesus dealt with tenderly, be more severely punished than sins of the spirit ? " March \lth. — Lectured to an immense crowd on Tuesday at the City Temple. Recalled some of my former feelings for the moment, but my time for this kind of usefulness is nearly over. Shattered nerves demand a quieter mode and sphere of work. " March 24oth. — Another week of labour and travel. Some anxieties, some return of pulpit difficulty. Large meetings during the week in commemoration of Wyclif. How unselfish, and self -unconscious this great man ! His work was all to him, and right nobly he did it. " Ap'il 1th. — Have spent a few quiet days in Cornwall and Devon. Trevarno very beautiful ; a charming and a godly family. Pulpit trouble again this morning, but a blessing with the word. If I may not have this without that, then I think I can welcome that — exquisitely painful as it is. " A2yril 28th. — Still in much labour and travel. The two preceding Sabbaths have been spent in Bristol and Manchester, on Deputation work. Encouraged by the continued missionary feeling of the people, even in these times of deep depression. The income is but little short, the expenditure greatly in excess of it. Our own services have commenced, and the sermons are preached to-day. Oh that in each heart there may be the complete consecration which is the true strength of the missionary spirit. Lord, complete it in mine ! The country still unsettled, every- thing pointing to war. " May bth — An excellent meeting on Monday, well-sustained through- out. We put the issue clearly before the Society in the report, — retrench- ment, or increased means. May God incline the hearts of the wealthy to come up to our help." Almost immediately after the missionary anniver- 470 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xix. sary came the District Meeting, and as soon as its duties were discharged, Dr. Piiushon set out for Germany, to visit the missions, and transact certain business on behalf of the Society. He and his wife were joined by a few friends, Mr. Isaac Holden, Mr. and Mrs. May, and Mr. and Mrs. Clarke of Abingdon. Many of the places included in this journey had been visited by him in former years, and he notes the changes, political and rehgious, that had taken place. At Brussels he watched a gorgeous procession in honour of the Virgin. Journal. " Some, as of yore, went down on their knees in the Square, most were bareheaded ; but I marked a notable difference in twenty years. Many stood sturdily erect, and remained covered. Went to our French service in the Boulevard de I'Observatoire, where M. Hocart preached on love the producer of obedience, and obedience the true expression of love. In the evening held a pleasant httle service of praise, prayer, and exposition in our own rooms. " Mmj 20th. — Left for Luxembourg and Metz. Passed through the lovely valley of the Sambre. Showers alternated with sunshine as we sped along through the beautiful forest of St. Hubert, and on through pictures- que country to Luxembourg, which I was glad to visit again after many years. Vast political changes have taken place since then, and vast changes also in my own personal history. During the day my thoughts went back full often to the past, " And thought I often of the dead, The precious living loved not less ; For they the golden streets who tread Look, not to envy, but to bless.'' " May 21 st, Metz. — Rose early and found my way to the cathedral. Much delighted with it. The interior is very imposing. Thence to the markets and the Esplanade, beautifully planted with all niiinner of English plants and flowers. The birds were singing delightfully, and the view from the terrace of the valley of the Moselle and the fortifications of Metz was exquisitely lovely. After breakfast went again to the cathedral with the rest of the party, and much enjoyed the service. The voices of the readers were in perfect accord, and the rux huinuna stop was so skil- 1878.] IN GERMANY. 47* fully introduced in the organ accompaniment, that it seemed as though a voice of rare sweetness, tremulous with intensity of feeling, was warbling forth its praise. I listened, and worshipped. . . . Much impressed with the astute policy of the German. They have made a great stronghold of Metz, and are rapidly changing the names of the streets. In process of time the French language will probably die out, and there will be no sign that Alsace and Lorraine were ever other than German provinces. Reached Strasbourg in the afternoon. After table d'hdte strolled out to the wonderful cathedral, which looked most imposing in the mellow even- ing light. "Mai/ 22nd. — Drove round the city and fortifications, and at 11.30 arrived at the cathedral, where a large company was already assembled. At twelve the clock performed its wonderful duties. The fat cherub struck below, his twin turned the hour-glass, the old man answered the cherub's stroke of the quarters, and death tolled out the hour. The Apostles salaamed as decorously, and the cock crowed as vigorously as when I last saw them many years ago. " ^[alJ 2')th.. — Arrived at Stuttgart, and were met by Mr. Barratt, Mr. Johnson, and Mr. Tralford. Went in the evening to see the site of the new chapel in the Sophunstrasse. " ^[ay 2C>th. — At 10.30 preached in our long room in the ^^arieii.•itraH$e. The room was fairly filled. Preached at Cannstadt at four in the after- noon and took tea with Mr. Barratt. " Afai/ 27th. — Drove through Cannstadt and Waiblingen to Winnenden and Backnang. At Backnang we have a little chapel, where about sixty people were assembled. I spoke through an interpreter; dined at Dieterle's, drove back to Winnenden, a very quaint old town ; spoke again, as did Mr. Maj', and Mr. Edmunds. There were more than a hundred present " 3fa!/ 28th. — Went to Cannstadt to the District Meeting. Sat among the brethren, dined with them in German fashion. Mrs. Barratt and Mrs. Rogers came to tea. " Jfai/ 20//;. — J/y hirtlxhiy, the second I have spent in a foreign land. Humbled before God, and I trust contrite and resolved to be more devoted and earnest in the service of my Lord and Master. At 2.15 came to the District Meeting, which finished its sessions about four. Before leaving I was presented with an address of congratulation on my birthday, signed by all the ministers. Went into Mr. Barratt's to tea, and on the table was a beautiful cake, with the inscription, ' W. M. P. Gottes segen zum Geburtstage. ' Then came the two little girls, Irene and Stephanie, with a magnificent bouquet. " May 30l]i. — A week of anxieties, mainly on account of friends. Mrs. Osborn has been seriously ill, so much so that at one time we could not tell what might be the result. Felt constrained to cry miglitily to God on her account. I trust and believe that God will spare her husband again. ... I am anxious about the missions, the income, the openings that crowd upon us, and wliicli we know not liow to enter. MISSIONARY AFFAIRS. 479 " February 2!5;-f/. — Anxieties but slightly relieved. Mrs. Osborn still ill. The Booths lingering. Dear Gervase and Mrs. May both very poorly. The mission income threatening a serious decrease. I could be very much depressed, but I am trying to stay myself on God. He will undertake for us when we need Him most. '■'■March 9th. — A few days of beautiful weather, the promise of the spring. The missionary income less seriously deficient than I had feared. We have about £4,450 below last year from the Districts. Very thankful for this continued support in hard times." To Rev. A. H. Reynar. "Ventnor, 3Iarch 18th, 1879. " We have escaped here for a few days. I have had a good deal of anxiety, which has brought back my sleeplessness, and as I have a heavy six weeks before me, I thought it well to secure a little rest beforehand. The times have told upon our missionary income A week before closing our accounts, we wanted £26,000 to bring us up to last year. This has been reduced to £4,600, but this will be our deficit on the income from the Districts. The legacies will diminish this a little, but still we are largely in debt, and likely to continue so. We are not quite at one as to the best method of managing our affairs. We have some who wish to reduce our Society to the level of a commercial concern. To my mind this can- not, and ought not to be done. . . . We have had another anxiety in the protracted illness of Mrs. Osborn. Her husband has been three months in the West Indies on a missionary tour, and we feared she would not live till his return. . . . Dr. Smith, too, has been very poorly, and con- tinues so, quite incapable of work. In the middle of May, all being well, we hope to go on the Continent, to attend the French Conference, to be held this year at Lausanne." Journal. " March 30//i. — Mr. Osborn brought home in health and safety two days earlier than the expected time. Feel much relieved and thankful that God has answered prayer on his behalf and his wife's. Preached this morning at Clapton, and so endeavoured to fulfil the promise which Father Booth wrung from me eighteen months ago. Felt some freedom while proclaiming the Resurrection and the Life. Some of our fathers very feeble. Mr. Bedford and Dr. Jobson both very unwell. " April Gth. — A busy week ; feel a little jaded, but thankful to be able to work. Dear Mr. M'Arthur brought home in safety after a pilgrim- age round the world. Troubled this week by a family matter which has caused me some anxiety. Nothing but the grace of God can keep from slippery paths. " A2)r/l 22iid. — During the past few weeks have been much exercised in mind, and much occupied iu work. Our missionary a£Eairs trouble me. 48o TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xix. We are largely in excess of our income, much more largely than our friends conceive, and in these times it seems impossible to increase the income. Yet retrenchment is always difficult, and we risk the loss of what has been gained by years of toil. '■'■May Wth. — Very busy last Sabbath, and the days preceding and follow- ing, with our anniversary, which has been interesting and valuable, and a little more productive than usual. Still in anxiety about mission matters. Mr. Tyack suddenly called away. Feel that I would like to live for God and His work, but also that I wish to be entirely surrendered into the loving Father's hands." On the 22nd May Dr. and Mrs. Punshon, with their friends Mr. and Mrs. May, started for the Continent. Journal. " Felt much in passing Marden, where I laboured, a stripling, thirty-five years ago. " May 23rc?. — Had a restless night, no sleep until four o'clock. At 9 a.m. went to the Rue Roquepine to attend the English District Meeting which continued until one o'clock, then adjourned to the Galerie de Mont- martre for lunch. Afterwards went to St. Denis, where we inspected the room which Mr. Gibson wishes to take for evangelistic services. Re- turned to Mr. Close's to tea, and in the evening lectured to a fair audience on Tlie Men of the Mayfiower. " May 23rd. — Preached to a large congregation at the Rue Roqu^pine. Wrote and rested in the afternoon, then attended the evangelistic service. There were about thirty adults present, and a large number of restless children. Went with Miss G over Miss Leigh's Home in the Avenue Wagram ; then to the Rue Pergolese, where Mrs. Gibson had prepared tea for us. Afterwards had some sacred music, and walked back to the Hotel. " May 30th, Constance. — Saw the cathedral, and the slab, white amidst surrounding damp, on which John Huss stood to be sentenced, St. Stephen's Church, the frescoes of the Hotel de Ville, the spot where Jerome and Huss were martyred, and the outside of the Concilium's Saal, in which the Councils of Constance were held. "June 1st, Ra(1atz. — A Sabbath without public service, but we held one in our room. A naval captain, hearing of it, asked leave to be present, and was very devout. "June 3rd. — Started iit eight for a wonderful day's ride, through the village of Sils, and up into the Schyn Pass — superb — an immense over- hanging and richly-wooded chain of hills on one side, an almost fathom- less depth below on the other. We came out near to Tiefenkasten, and wended our toilsome way upward to Lenz above the snow-level, then down I879-] MISS HAVERGAL. 481 by a gradual and lovely descent to Coire, reaching our old quarters at Ragatz at eight, thoroughly intoxicated with beauty, or, to use a less exceptionable phrase, satisfied with seeing. " June 8th, Interlaken. — Went to the English Church, and heard an elegant combination of little thoughts from the resident clergyman. Grieved to hear of the death of Frances Ridley Havergal. Wrote a few lines upon her loss. " Gone from us all too soon ! Oh, can it be ? — Thou who hast made the earth a happier place For multitudes who never saw thy face — Friend, Teacher, Helper dear, we weep for thee. Thy song was as a sweet brook, murmuring on Through the hot desert of life's parching day. And weary pilgrims drinking by the way, Lifted anointed heads — but thou art gone. We marvel not — on earth thou could'st not stay : Here, envious discords jar, and make no chime ; Here, frailty mocks the soul's attempts to climb; Cold wakenings drive our blessed dreams away. Earth was to thee ' a strange ' and captive ' land ' ; 'Mid drooping willows ' the Lord's song ' was sung ; But now the full praise rolls from loosened tongue Where the crowned harpers in His presence stand. We, listening, sit apart, and make our moan, Hoping against hope still to catch the song, ■ Stirring the fresh airs all our hearts among ; But silent is each well-remembered tone. Not silent ! nay, in other worlds, thy name Was whispered by the angels in their choir — ' Sweet minstrel, chastened spirit, come up higher ' — And at the call their sister-spirit came. Went from the joyous hills and tuneful sea, The shrines of worship and the arks of love ; Went to the temple and the home above, All bright and stainless — fittest home for thee. All true, and yet, sore pressed with inward pain, We miss one helper to each purpose high. And all the human in us makes reply, And loves to linger on the sad refrain— 31 482 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. XIX. Gone from us — all too soon ! — -yet rise we higher, Our God hath but reclaimed that which He lent ; So let our dirge become our sacrament, Plighted to heaven upon this broken lyre. June Vlth, Lausanne, Hotel Gibbon. — The Conference commenced. '■'■June 13th. — At Conference. Dined with the ministers. We invited them to tea. A good meeting, a blessed influence. •' June \bth. — Heard M. Hocart preach an exquisite sermon in French, almost every word of which I understood. Went then to the Scotch Churcli, and heard a faithful sermon from Mr. Buscarlet, the chaplain. Preached at the Valentin in the afternoon from Col. ii. 1, 2, to a congre- gation of 150 people. Remained at home in the evening. A happy and profitable Sabbath. ^- June 2'2?ic?. — Preserved by a loving Providence through a month's absence from home. The weather has favoured us. We have seen won- derful scenery. I have renewed my acquaintance with the snow-clad Alps, and have drunk in their majesty and beauty. The journey has been a restful one. Passed my birthday at the Rhine-falls, and our wedding-day between Lausanne and Dijon. Attended the District Meeting in Paris, and the French Conference at Lausanne, and endeavoured to do some little work for God. Feel very thankful for the rest and change. Home to be troubled about the exigencies of our missionary work, but willing to wist all my care upon the Lord." The Conference of 1879 met in Birmingham, under the presidency of the Rev. Benjamin Gregory. Dr. Punshon's home was with vakied friends, and as his pubHc labours were comparatively hght, it was a pleasant time for him. During the three weeks of the session he preached once and lectured once. He was glad to avail himself of the opportunity of hear- ing sermons, — on the first Sunday from Dr. Dale and Mr. Holland, and on the second from Dr. Pope and Mr. Tweddle. At the open session, when it is customary to receive the representatives of other Methodist Conferences, Dr. Punshon gave an account of the work in France, and of his recent visit to the French Conference at Lausanne. '879-1 ILLNESS OF ELDEST SON. 483 To Kev. a. H. Reynak. "Rhyl, Auguat 23r<7, 1879. " After the fatigues of Conference we are rusticating, as usual, at Llandudno, and came over here yesterday for the Sunday. Dr. and Mrs. Smith are in the same house with us. On the whole we have had a good Conference. Some of our laymen are gifted with large tongue-power, but the general tone was wholesome and good. Our troubles are mainly finan- cial ones, and they are heavy enough Several Canadians and others were with us. Dr. Tilfany, two or three black bishops, Benson, Lathern, etc., looked in upon us." Journal. '■^ Septemher 1th, 187?. — The Conference was on the whole satisfactory. A few indications of troublesome tendencies, but not many, and those con- fined to a few individuals. Large embarrassments in aU our funds, but no panic, and but little disheartenment. Spiritual desires and purposes good. My Conference home a home in reality, bright, genial, and refresh- ing, the family kindness itself. Have had, and continue to have some domestic anxiety, and our dear friend Mr. Dugdale was called home on the day on which he should have travelled to Conference. . . . Last night a troubled one, trying to cast all my care upon my Father who is in heaven. " Si'ptcinhcr \^th. — Have had two sleepless nights again this week. Did not sleep at all through last night, a poor preparation for preaching this morning, but the Lord helped me, and was better to me than all my fears. I sometimes fear a notable break in my health, which should induce me to work while it is day. " September 2Sth. — Preached this morning in Aldersgate Street, the tem- porary home of the Jewin Street congregation. There are boundless opportunities for doing good. . . . Much occupied and exercised with Mission House work, especially in reference to the West Indies. " October bth . — In work and travel during the week. In trouble and anxiety about J. W., who is pronounced to have some mischief in the left lung." This was the beginniug of what proved to be the fatal illness of his eldest son, and a new source of sorrow was henceforth opened for the father. Many hopes had gathered round a gifted and promising youth. From various causes these hopes had been for the most part unfulfilled, and now, in early man- hood, the hope of life itself seemed likely to be taken away. For months, as is so often the case with con- 484 W. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xix. sumption, there were fluctuations that alternately kindled and quenched that hope ; but after a while the real character of the illness became unmistak- able, and the anguish of watching its inevitable pro- gress was added to other anxieties and sorrows. The son's decline was to run its course with the gradual wearing down and wearing out of the father's strength. In their death they were not divided by more than a few short weeks. Journal. " October 2&th. — Brought home in safety after a fortnight's absence, during which I have been hard worked on the Leeds and Swansea deputa- tions, and at the Sheffield Thanksgi^^ng meeting. The President ill, I trust not seriously, but so much so as to unfit him for public service. Many of our leading men are'in infirm health. It would almost seem as if the Lord had a controversy with us. " Norembcr i)th. — Much in public work in Cornwall and elsewhere. J. W. home, and evidently very weak. The doctors speak gravely of his case, and say his recovery will depend upon his rallying power. I yearn for his salvation, that living or dying he may be the Lord's. Could well have spared this new trial, speaking according to the flesh, but the Lord's chastening is wholesome, and He can make it ' not grievous.' Noremher 16th. — Suffering somewhat from face-ache, but working steadily. At four missionary meetings during the week. Much encour- agement in advocating the cause for which my Master yearns. Mr. Coley had a seizui-e during the week. The President is still unwell. The princes and great men die or are disabled in quick succession. " November 23rd. — A week during which death has come very near. Mr. Bedford passed away on Thursday, and on Friday, at three o'clock, Dr. Cather, who always seemed so strong. But ' the battle is not to the strong, nor the race to the swift.' These are admonitory visitations. May the Lord give the readiness for every event of His providence. "December 1th. — Still under the shadow of the cloud. Have taken J. W. to Bournemouth, but so far there docs not seem to be any improve- ment. Full of anxieties about him. On my return from Bournemouth on Monday, received a telegram informing me that Sir Isaac Morley had passed away, and on Friday, in the keen frost and snow-covered earth, we buried him. Latterly, he always seemed earnest in his desires for prayer, and for an interest in Christ. He has left large sums to charities. " December 14.v.) for a fortnight in the West of Ireland." About this time Dr. Punshon's invalid son sailed for Canada. The state of his health had improved i88o.] No LONGER YOUNG. 491 somewhat, and it was thought that the voyage might be of service to him. He himself had looked forward wistfully to the possibility of visiting Canada once more, and in February had written to his brother-in- law that there was nothing on earth he should like so well as to come and see him. He accordingly sailed on the 11th of June, spent a couple of months with friends amid the scenes of his former home, and re- turned, no worse, as it seemed, for the journey. To Eev. a. H. Reynar. " Glendalough, June, I'dth, 1880. " By the time this reaches you we hope and suppose you will have seen J. W. and heard the latest news of us all. You will see him thin and altered, but it is a great mercy that he has got through the winter so well ; and we trust, if he will but be careful, the voyage may do him good, and prepare him for another winter. I think his mind is more softened and reverent since his illness. We have certainly had much comfort in him. I hope he will open his heart to you. Our prayers follow him duly and daily. If you see that the heat exhausts him, please expedite his return. " I have been somewhat worn down with work and worry, and felt that my only chance of preparing for the fatigues of Conference lay in snatch- ing a fortnight just now, so we accepted our good friend Alderman M 'Arthur's invitation to migrate to the wilds of Connemara, and are here spending a sabbath quietly among the hills. We have worshipped this morning, but not in a temple made with hands ; the nearest sanctuary being a Roman Catholic one, and that more than five miles away. " I feel that I am no longer a young man. The weight of fifty-six years, not unlaborious, presses upon and sobers my spirit. And yet my heart is young, and I have a keen relish for Ufe, with its stores of the beautiful, and its susceptibilities of the true, and would fain work yet for God and man, even until the allotted tale of years. Thank God for a Saviour and a hope which, amid all my mistrusts and depressions, I con- tinue to cherish and to cling to ! " Journal. July l\th. — Another bereavement among my friends. Mr. J. M , who kindly entertained me a few weeks ago at Pontef ract, has died, leaving seven children. Affected much under a sermon to-night by dear Mr. Boyce, a sermon of much practical godliness and wisdom from ' Thou shalt remember all the way, etc' The Conference is upon us I trust the 492 w. morLey PiJNSHoisr. tCMAt*. XiX. Spirit of the Master will be with us. There has been much prayer for the Divine blessing on this annual assembly. July IStk. — Assisted in preaching this morning in the city. Much engaged during the week in the stationing committee. The work in- creasingly difficult. Full of the preparations for the approaching Confer- ence, towards which I do not look forward with unmixed hope or pleasure. I trust the good Lord will avert from us all that is harmful, and temper all our discussions with meekness of wisdom." The Conference of 1880 — Dr. Punshon's last — met in City Koad Chapel, London. Its president was the Kev. E. E. Jenkins. Dr. Punshon's anticipations re- specting it were not very cheerful, and he found himself less able than usual to enjoy the gathering together of the brethren. For one thing, the assembly was in his judgment too large. " A thousand men cannot deliberate," was his expression. He thought he dis- cerned tendencies in the Conference that gave him pain. How far his discernment was a true one, and how far it was affected by the state of his health and spirits, cannot here be decided. "One beautiful episode of the week," he writes, " was the visit of Mr. Spurgeon to the Conference. He gave a charac- teristic address, full of mother-wit and gospel wisdom." To him personally the most gratifying incident in connection with the Conference was the meeting with his old friend Eichard Ridgill. Nearly forty years had elapsed since they parted, enthusiastic, light- hearted boys, the one dreaming of the ministry as his vocation, the other laughing at the notion, and setting his own hopes upon a colonist's life and for- tunes. They met in City Road Chapel, Christian ministers of mature age and large experience, sobered by many trials, full of lionours, trusted and loved thi-ougli widely-extended Churches ; but the years had only ripened the early friendship, and they clasped i88o.] MEETING WITH MR. RIDGILL. 493 each the other's hand with a dee|) and manly affec- tion. Mr. Kidgill, recalling the earlier and the later days of his intimacy with Morley Pimshon, writes : — " I speut much time with him in Sunderland in July and August 1841. I did not see him again before leaving England in the early part of 1842, and thirty-nine years had passed before we met once more. Our paths diverged. Each went his way, led by an unseen Divinity, to become a minister of Christ, he, rarely gifted and conscious of power, rejoicing as a strong man to run a race ; I to plod patiently on in a remote sphere, sometimes among my own countrymen, sometimes among the heathen, or such as had recently been won from heathenism. " There was an old understanding between us that if ever he became President of the Conference, I should, if possible, visit England. When that position was attained, he reminded me of the promise, but domestic affliction prevented my coming home. When the Missionary Committee thought proper to entrust me with the charge of a district, it was through him the official intimation reached me. I felt the honour tenfold more that the friend of my youth had gone out of his way to announce the appointment, and congratulated me in his own graceful and kindly way. " When illness compelled me to visit England in 1880, his thoughtful kindness relieved me of all inconvenience upon my landing at Southamp- ton, and provided that I should be conducted without delay from the Mission House to City Road Chapel. I cannot forget the promptness with which Dr. Punshon left the Conference when my arrival was made known to him, and the welcome with which he met me. One warm grasp of the hand, one glance of the kindling eye, was enough. He was ' Roderick,' and I was ' Hardric ' again, — friends as of yore. " He insisted that I should be his guest at Tranhtj, and gave me abun- dant proof of unchanged regard. A stranger among my brethren, I should have gone my way unnoticed and unknown, but as Dr. Punshon's friend I met with kindness on every hand. " The day after my arrival at Tranhy stands out prominently as one of enjoyment. We drove together through Hyde Park, and to the Albert Memorial and Hall. We then went to Westminster Abbey. Few men have been more favoured than I, to go through the venerable pile with such a guide, and to hear him speak with bowed head and bated breath of England's best and greatest sons. But every day and everywhere there was the same warm-heartedness, the same tender and unselfish anxiety to secure my comfort and contribute to my enjoyment. " My last evening at Trunby was a happy one. We spent a part of it in looking over his collection of autographs. When all had retired, the 494 TV. MORLEY PUNSHON. [chap. xix. Doctor sat with me until near midnight, poring over the Minutes of tlie Conference. He was much concerned, as he more than once mentioned to me, at the number of returned missionaries — men still efficient for mission work — now engaged in English Circuits. We went through the ' Stations,' and marked every man who had laboured at one time or other in India or in South Africa. I was struck with the intimate acquaintance he had with the character and antecedents of every minister whose name appeared in the Minutes. " Such was my last hour with my oldest and dearest friend. I had a hope that we might meet again — perhaps in Africa. It was not to be. We shall meet elsewhere.'' Journal. " Septemhcr bth, 1880. — At the close of my usual summer holiday I record the goodness of God to me, though I write in languor, and not in the firmest health. The Conference improved during its last week, though it became very fatiguing. Refreshed by renewed intercourse with dear Ridgill, my boyhood's friend, now a firm-set, large-framed Chairman of a District, resembling good old William Shaw in gravity and wisdom. The review of the years since we met (nearly forty) humbling, inspiring, and wholesome. My time at Llandudno was pleasant ; the weather superb, not a drop of rain. Visited the Eisteddfod at Carnarvon, and had a delight- ful vi.sit of a couple of days to Treborth, with the family of Mr. Richard Davies, M.P. Sad fatalities by drowning during the month : in England, the Rev. Henry Wright, Secretary of the Church Missionary Society, and the Rev. Samuel Fiddian ; in Canada, the daughter of the Rev. John Shaw, and Robert Wilkes, ex-M.P. for Toronto, and his son and daughter. Thus are lives mysteriously cut short in their prime. J. W. has returned from Canada, for which I thank God. But I fear he is no better. His emaciation is considerable, and his weakness great. Lord ! into Thy hands I would commit my entire cause. Good old W. H. Taylor, under whose preaching my first impressions of religious truth were received, died on Monday last. " September 12th. — A week of weakness and depression, personal and relative ; have felt lower and more languid in body than for some months past. I want to breathe the spirit of Keble's Hymn for 16th Sunday after Trinity : — ' " Were it not better to lie still, Let Him strike home and bless the rod. Never so safe as when our will Yields undiscern'd by all but God ? ' Anxious about my son, about my work, about the missions, so many men coming home vo, cloth, 2S. i>d. NOTICES OF THE PRESS. "A well written and skilfully compacted biography, embracing the recital of early life and providential escapes, spiritual discipline, entering the ministry, first years at Madeley, correspondence, and controversies, especially on Calvinism. We confidently recommend the memoir to all." — Clergytnan's Magazine. " A most interesting picture of Methodism in its best form." — Guardian. " We heartily commend this little book as an admirable piece of literary work of its kind." — Methodist Recorder. " Mr. Macdonald has written a most interesting sketch of his life, and enables us to apprehend and appreciate his noble character. Not the least important and interesting part of the book is that which sets before us Fletcher's relations with the Wesleys. This capital sketch of the life of Fletcher will serve to make him known to many who may never have seen the older biographies and histories which treat of the Methodist revival." — Christian World. " Mr. Macdonald has done his work well. His style easily adapts itself to the difficult literary class of biography. He writes with freedom, precision, simplicity, and force. The book is enjoyable reading, due, not only to the interest in the man whose work it records, but likewise to the able way in which the subject has been treated.' — Birmingham Daily Gazette. " Fletcher deserves to be better known, and Mr. Macdonald has done his work exceedingly well. It is popular, and yet every line reveals the hand of the scholar and the thinker. " — Sheffield Independent. " A volume deserving of great praise. The various facts of Fletcher's life are presented in a popular and interesting but not superficial manner." Nonconformist. "With a rare insight into Fletcher's character and surroundings, with a sound and vigorous judgment, with a facile pen he has set before us, so that we cannot fail distinctly to see him, one of the noblest of the ' men worth remembering.' His volume is also enriched by extracts from letters and MSS. not previously published, and throws light on questions hitherto imperfectly understood." Baptist Magazine. " It is well written and well condensed, and will quicken renewed interest in the study of the Evangelical Revival of the last century." — Evangelical Magazine. " Mr. Macdonald has proved himself a biographer worthy of his hero." Record. LONDON : HODDER & STOUGHTON, 27, Paternoster Row. The Life of Samuel Morley. By Edwin Hodder, Author of " The Life and Work of the Earl of Shaftesbury. " With etched Portrait by Manesse. Demy 8vo. Wesley's Designated Successor. The Life, Letters, and Literary Labours of Fletcher of Madeley. By the Rev. L. Tyerman. 8vo, cloth, 12^, The Life and Times of the Rev. John Wesley, M.A,, Founder of the Methodists, By the same Author. Fifth and Cheaper Edition, in Three Volumes, unabridged. With Engraved Portraits, 8vo, 22s. 6d. The Life of the Rev. George Whitefield, M.A. By the same Author. Two Volumes, 8vo, with Engraved Portraits. 24^. Classified Gems of Thought, From the Great Writers of all Ages. In Convenient Form for Use as a Dictionary of Ready Reference on Religious Subjects. By the Rev. F. B. Proctor, M. A., Editor of " The Clergyman's Magazine." Second Edition. Royal 8vo, cloth, loj. 6d. The Student's Handbook of Christian Theology. By the Rev. Benjamin Field. Edited, with a Biographical Sketch, by the Rev. John C. Symons. New Revised and Enlarged Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5^. First Principles of Faith, By Marshall Randles, Author of "For Ever," " Substitution," etc. Crown Svo, 6s. New Coins from Old Gold; or, Homely Hints from Holy Writ. By Thomas Champness. Second Thousand. Crown Svo, cloth, 3^. dJ. Guides and Guards in Character-Building, By C. H. Payne, DD., LL.D. Crown Svo, cloth, 5^. A Commentary on St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans. By Joseph Agar Beet. Fifth Edition. Crown Svo, cloth, fs. 6J. A Commentary on St, Paul's Epistles to the Corinthians. By the same Author. Third Edition. Crown Svo, cloth, 10s. 6d. A Commentary on St, Paul's Epistle to the Galatians. By the same Author. Second Edition. Crown Svo, 55-. Holiness; as understood by the Writers of the Bible. By the same Author. Fourth Edition. Cloth, \s. THE LIFE OF JOHN WESLEY. By the Rev. John Telford, Author of " Wesley Anecdotes," etc. With a Facsimile Letter of John Wesley's as a Frontispiece. Second Thousand, price 7^. 6d. " Mr. John Telfoi d has written a ' Life of John Wesley,' which will probably enjoy a lasting sale. It is comparatively brief, and yet sufficient ; for it is worked out with much studious care and literary skill, and, thouph after so many reapers, the author has been able to make a few gleanings even of new lacts. On disputed points he has been discreet, and while not concealing his own views, has avoided giving oflence." Conlemporary Revinu. " An excellent biography. The writer has brought out fin abundance of fresh material, and among the many attr.ictions of the work we may mention the facsimile of Wesley's draft of his famous letter to William Law." — Quiver. LONDON : HODDER & STOUGHTON, 27, Paternoster Row.