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 BV 3785 .M3 MS 1876 
 Macpherson, John, 1847-1902 
 Life and labors of Duncan 
 Matheson, the Scottish 
 
LIFE AND LABORS 
 
 OF 
 
 Duncan Matheson, 
 
 C5e ^cottifi^ ©banffelifit 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. JOHN MACPHERSON. 
 
 'REALITY IS THE GREAT THING: I HAVE ALWAYS SOUGHT REALITY. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, 
 
 530 Broadway. 
 1876. 
 
CAMBEIDGE : ST. JOHNLAND 
 
 PKESS OF STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY, 
 
 JOHN WILSON A SON. SUFFOLK CO., N. X. 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 During Ms last days on earth Duncan Matheson, in accordance with the 
 wishes of his friends, set himseK to write an account of his own life. The 
 effort proved too much for his enfeebled health, and his autobiographic 
 notes, stopping short at the beginning of his evangelistic course, were left 
 in no fit state for publication. The facts recorded by his own hand have, 
 however, been embodied in the present memoir; and the narrative of hi8 
 conversion, by far the most valuable portion of his hastily written notes, 
 has been given in his own words. 
 
 The cases of conversion described in illustration of the work of grace and 
 the success of our evangelist are matters of fact of which I have the fullest 
 knowledge, most of the individuals concerned being personally known to 
 me; but I have deemed it best not to give their names. On similar grounds 
 I have also in several instances withheld the names of localities. 
 
 Many of the incidents narrated I learned from the lips of my lamented 
 friend ; in fact, a great part of the volume has been derived from my recol- 
 lection of the man and the work. 
 
 The best narrative of his evangelistic labors, I have reason to believe, was 
 contained in his letters to his wife ; but these have been destroyed. Vexed 
 at the too hasty and too loud trumpeting of results on the part of some, and 
 convinced that thereby the Holy Spirit was grieved and discredit cast upon 
 the work, he set his face against even the appearance of what he regarded as 
 a great evil, and for several years wrote at the foot of every letter giving 
 account of his labors, "Destroy this." The stern decree was only too 
 faithfully obeyed. In this way, doubtless, he preserved a full consciousness 
 of the purity of his motives— no Ught matter truly to a servant of Jesus 
 Christ; and however we may regret the loss of the letters, we cannot but 
 admire the self-denying spirit of the man who thus deliberately sacrificed his 
 own name at the shrine of his Master's glory. 
 
 This tribute to the memory of my truly noble friend I humbly commend 
 to the Holy Spirit; at the same time earnestly entreating my Christian 
 readers to pray that the book, as an echo of the evangelist's voice, may 
 prolong his extraordinary ministry, and be the means of saving many souls. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Birth and Boyhood 5 
 
 11. 
 
 His Youth and Conversion .... 28 
 
 III. 
 Spiritual Discipline 46 
 
 IV. 
 
 His Evangelistic Apprenticeship ... 65 
 
 Y. 
 
 His Mission to the Crimea .... 80 
 
 VI. 
 Days of Revival 174 
 
 VII. 
 
 The Diocese of Open-air . . . .214 
 
 VIII. 
 
 His Manner of Living and Mode of Working . 284 
 
 IX. 
 
 Some Sheaves from the Harvest-field . . 320 
 
 X. 
 
 From the Furnace to the Sea of Glass Min- 
 gled with Fire 337 
 
LIFE AND LABORS 
 
 DUNCAN MATHESON 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 BIRTH AND BOYHOOD. 
 
 Duncan Matheson was born at Huntly, in Aber- 
 deenshire, on the 22d day of November, 1824. This 
 little inland town, some of my readers may not know, 
 is the capital of Strathbogie, a district now famous 
 in the ecclesiastical history of Scotland as the scene 
 of a fierce conflict, some thirty years ago, between 
 the church and the civil power. The fame of that 
 struggle has sounded far beyond the shores of Scot- 
 land, and its issues are constantly growing more mo- 
 mentous with the revolving years. 
 
 Neither the village nor the adjacent country pre- 
 sents features very striking or interesting. The soil 
 is not of a generous nature ; but its sons have devel- 
 oped the sturdiest manhood in its subjugation and 
 cultui-e. The climate, rigorously stern, is often in 
 winter of arctic severity ; but the keen biting winds 
 
6 His Parents, 
 
 seem only to have sharpened the people's wits ; the 
 gloomy sky if it has made them dour has helped to 
 make them sober-minded, and battling with storms 
 and drifting snows has proved a good training for 
 the battle of life. Bannocks of oatmeal and bickers 
 of porridge, together with early and successful con- 
 tendings with that great army of strong truths 
 whose leader presents to every young Scot this 
 memorable challenge, "What is the chief end of 
 man?" have contributed not a little in raising up 
 generations of strong, free men, able to push their 
 way and hold their own anywhere in the world. In 
 fact, hard work, coarse but wholesome fare, a severe 
 climate, the Bible, the church, the school, and the 
 catechism, have conspired to develop in them the 
 tougher elements of the Scottish character. The 
 inhabitants of that north-eastern province are as 
 hard as their native granite, as stern as their own 
 winter, and of a spirit as independent as the winds 
 that play on the summit of their lofty Benachee. 
 In short, the people of Huntly are Aberdonians of 
 the most Aberdonian type. Shrewd, hard-headed, 
 rough-grained, having ever a keen eye to the main 
 chance, and not to be overcome by force or over- 
 reached by fraud, they are a people pre-eminently 
 canmj and Scotch. 
 
 In one of the plain homely dwellings, of which the 
 Huntly of that day was almost entirely composed, 
 the subject of this memoir first saw the light. His 
 parents belonged to that better class of the common 
 
His Parents. y 
 
 people whose intelligence, industry, thrift. God-fear- 
 ing uprightness, and honest pride, have contributed 
 so much to the prosperity and glory of their country. 
 From his father, a Ross-shire man, connected with a 
 family of some note in that county, young Matheson 
 inherited the Celtic fire which fused all his powers 
 into one great passion ; whilst from his mother he 
 seemed to derive the strong good sense, the irre- 
 pressible wit, and boundless generosity, that were 
 among his chief characteristics. To his mother, in- 
 deed, as in the case of many other men who in their 
 day have been powerful workers of good and uncom- 
 promising enemies of evil, the boy, the man, and the 
 Christian, owed more than pen and ink can set forth. 
 Her loving and fervent spirit, her wise and gracious 
 ways, impressed and captivated the warm-hearted 
 and ingenuous boy ; her prayers issued in his conver- 
 sion after her gentle head had been pillowed among 
 the clods; and her lovely memory glowing in his 
 fancy became a force, not the less mighty for its gen- 
 tleness, throughout his life. So true-hearted mothers 
 often live in their strong sons, the little quiet rivulet 
 somehow begetting the great broad river. Strong- 
 willed and even wayward as was the boy, he loved 
 and reverenced his mother with singular devotion. 
 The father, who for nearly thirty years occupied 
 the humble but honorable post of mail-nmner be- 
 tween Huntly and Banff, enjoyed but a slender in- 
 come ; and it needed all the diligence and thrift of 
 the mother to keep the house and five little children 
 
8 Incidents of Early Life, 
 
 above want. They had their pinching times ; but 
 pinching times have done much, under God, to de- 
 velop the real strength of Scottish character. In 
 after years, when Duncan Matheson had taken up 
 his father Colin's business of mail-runner, with this 
 difference, that the son carried letters for another 
 King, even Christ, and ran upon a longer line than 
 the Banff and Huntly road, olten did he remember 
 how "his poor dear mother used to sit till midnight 
 mending and making their clothes, and yet the beg- 
 gar was never sent empty from the door." Some- 
 times the brave little heart gave way, and the child 
 covering his face with the bedclothes would sob, 
 and long for the time when he should be able to 
 aid his mother in the struggles of life. One day 
 coming into possession of a small piece of money, 
 earned by running a message for a neighbor, he 
 took his stand at the window of a little shop, which 
 seemed to embrace in its contents all that was de- 
 sirable on earth, and there meditated a purchase. 
 The ginger-bread men riding on ginger-bread horses 
 did not much tempt him ; nor was he overcome by 
 the little shining clasp-knife, so dear to the heart 
 of boys. Kemembering his mother, he invested his 
 money in tea. Hastening home, he secretly depos- 
 ited his purchase in the cupboard, and watched till 
 he obtained a fall reward in the glad surprise of his 
 parent on finding her empty store thus unexpect- 
 edly and mysteriously replenished. 
 
 The lad was sent early to school, where he made 
 
School and the Schoolmaster. 9 
 
 rapid progress, his love of books being fostered by 
 frequent contact with the teacher, who lodged in 
 the house of the Mathesons. In those days there 
 were two schools in Huntly, the parish school and 
 an adventure school, between which there was a 
 perpetual feud. Almost daily the boys met in bat- 
 tle, and young Matheson, whose martial spirit was 
 thus early stuTcd, took an eager part in the fray. 
 The school of that time wore an air of awfiil stern- 
 ness and solemnity. The thong was real master. 
 The impression made by the opening prayer was 
 too often sadly undone by impression of the leather^ 
 as it fell with unmitigated severity on the tortured 
 fingers of some little rebel. Strange scenes, the re- 
 sult probably of that undue severity of government, 
 were sometimes witnessed in the school of those 
 days. A stream of water having been turned one 
 day from a neighboring lane into the schoolroom, the 
 master proceeded as a matter of course to find out 
 the author of the mischief Young Matheson was 
 unjustly charged, the real criminal having turned 
 false witness ; and loud protestations of innocence 
 notwithstanding, Duncan must be flogged. Here 
 the authority of the master failed. The lad's sense 
 of innocence, stimulated by some other feeling not 
 quite akin to innocence, roused him to self-defence ; 
 and amidst the cheers of the whole school the scholar 
 beat the master, and reduced him to the necessity 
 of a truce. 
 
 The master, who was an earnest Christian and a 
 
10 Moderatism and its Teachings. 
 
 preacher of tlie Gospel, did his duty faithfully and 
 well ; and Duncan Matheson never ceased to speak 
 of him with feelings of deepest gratitude and estee-m. 
 The pains taken by the teacher to polish that rough 
 but genuine Cairngorm were not thrown away. 
 
 In the matter of religion it was not a good time 
 in those northern parts. Moderatism^ which means 
 a religion without earnestness, a form without life, 
 and a Gospel without grace, cast its deadly shadow 
 over many a parish. Light, indeed, was beginning 
 to dawn, the spirit that moved Chalmers was abroad, 
 and when rare opportunity afforded men were Hsten- 
 ing to the ancient story of the cross as if it were a 
 new thing. As yet, however, it was only dim dawn. 
 Strange doctrines were given forth from the pulpit 
 of many a parish church. One taught the people 
 that if they paid their debts and lived a quiet life 
 they were sure of reaching heaven. His brother in 
 the neighboring parish declared, on the other hand, 
 that nobody can attain to assurance of salvation 
 until the day of judgment, and that the children of 
 God generally die under a cloud — a doctrine he 
 clenched with the scripture, "Whom the Lord lov- 
 eth He chasteneth." A third publicly stigmatized 
 praying people as hypocrites. A fourth acknowl- 
 edged his dislike of preaching by calling Sabbath 
 "the hanging day." Another apologized to his au- 
 dience for having once used "that offensive and 
 unpolite expression hdiy Several of these pastors 
 were famous for their skill in agriculture ; but while 
 
Moderatism and its Teachings. ii 
 
 they kept a well-stocked farm-yard, their scanty 
 supply of sermons grew more dry and mouldy year 
 by year. The preaching was no more likely to 
 awaken a slumbering congregation, than was the 
 chirping of sparrows in the hedge to arouse the still, 
 sad sleepers in the neighboring kirkyard. A clear, 
 full statement of "the finished work" of Jesus, as 
 the one only and all-sufficient substitute and sin- 
 bearer, was seldom heard. As for the grace of the 
 Holy Spirit the people were no more taught to ex- 
 pect comfort from His fellowship than from the wind 
 howling among the forest trees. In a certain parish 
 contiguous to the district in which our missionary 
 labored, the minister was one day catechising the 
 people, and put to a woman, noted for the then rare 
 qualities of earnestness and zeal, the question, "How 
 many persons are there in the Godhead?" To the 
 astonishment of all present she repHed, "There are 
 two persons in the Godhead, the Father and the Son." 
 Again the minister put the question, and this time 
 with a caution. The same answer was given. 
 "You see," said the parson, turning pompously to 
 his elders, and glancing round upon the people, 
 "you see what comes of high-flown zeal and hyp- 
 ocritical pretence. This woman thinks to teach 
 others, and herself is more ignorant than a child. 
 What gross ignorance I Woman, don't you know 
 that the correct answer is, ' There are iliree, persons 
 in the Godhead, the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Ghost,' " etc. " Sir," replied the woman, " I ken verra 
 
12 Moderatism and its Teachings. 
 
 weel that the catechism says sae. But whether am 
 I to beheve, the catechism or yersel' ? We hear you 
 name the Father, an' sometimes, but nae aften ye 
 mak mention o' the Son ; but wha ever heerd you 
 speak aboot the Holy Ghost? 'Deed, sir, ye never 
 sae muckle as tauld us whether there be ony Holy 
 Ghost, let alane oor need o' his grace." The minis- 
 ter stood rebuked ; and the people went away home 
 to discuss and think. 
 
 The Lord's flock was scattered on the dark moun- 
 tains. Some were wandering in a wilderness of 
 perplexity; some were sticking fast in the quag- 
 mire of earthliness ; some were ready to perish in 
 deep pits of deadly error ; and sad were the bleat- 
 ings of the sheep and the lambs as they pined away 
 in want. Meanwhile the description of unfaithful 
 shepherds given by the prophet Isaiah was realized 
 to the letter. "His watchmen are blind; they are 
 all ignorant, they are all dumb dogs, they cannot 
 bark; sleeping, lying down, loving to slumber. 
 Yea, they are greedy dogs which can never have 
 enough, and they are shepherds that cannot under- 
 stand: they all look to their own way, every one 
 for his gain, from his quarter. Come ye, say they, 
 I will fetch wine, and we will fill ourselves with 
 strong drink ; and to-morrow shall be as this day, 
 and much more abundant" (Isaiah Ivi. 10-12). 
 
 But amidst the Egyptian darkness there was a 
 people who had light in their dwellings. These 
 were chiefly Seceders and Independents. Amongst 
 
George Cowie. 13 
 
 the godly Dissenters there arose at this time a 
 notable preacher, Mr. George Cowie, gi'and-uncle of 
 Duncan Matheson. He was a man of rare hmnor, 
 great force of character, and mibounded zeal; quali- 
 ties in which his relative, the subject of this memoir, 
 strikingly resembled him. Cowie was both pastor 
 and evangelist. When he began his work in Huntly, 
 where he was ordained as pastor of the Secession 
 Church, he received a baptism of reproach and per- 
 secution. The haters of evangehcal truth mobbed 
 and pelted him ; but he took all meekly, and though 
 well-nigh blinded by showers of dirt and rotten 
 eggs, he turned to his little band of followers and 
 bravely said, " Courage, friends, courage ! Pray on ; 
 the devil is losing ground." 
 
 Many who thirsted for the Gospel came from dis- 
 tant parishes to hear this bold witness for the truth. 
 On Sabbath morning you could see them gather on 
 their way to Huntly ; one from yonder turf cot in 
 the mid-st of a wilderness of peat moss, where the 
 only sign of life is the smoke curling to the sky ; 
 another from a little farm recently reclaimed from 
 a marshy waste which anywhere out of Scotland 
 would be regarded as an eternal morass ; and a 
 third from down a lonely glen where silence is sel- 
 dom broken save by the cry of the wild bfrd. Thus 
 they gather from their native mists in search of 
 light — broad-shouldered men with blue bonnet and 
 plaid, thoughtful matrons with Bible and Psalm- 
 book wrapt in clean white handkerchief, and neatly- 
 
14 Worship in Nature s Temple, 
 
 dressed maidens, light-stepping but modest; and as 
 they journey together they talk of the things that 
 concern the King. Reaching a little well at the way- 
 side they sit down and refresh themselves. They 
 need this rest, for they have come a long journey, 
 some five miles, some ten, and some even fifteen. 
 A drink from the well is followed by a draught of 
 the pure water of life. With the blue heavens for 
 a canopy, the green earth for a carpet, and the little 
 birds for a choir, they worship God in that great 
 temple of nature in which the religion of Scotland 
 has oftentimes been baptized with the blood of her 
 children. They sing the twenty-third Psalm. In 
 grave, sweet melody their hearts go up to heaven 
 in mingled exercise of faith, hope, and charity, as 
 they repeat the most familiar of Scottish household 
 words : 
 
 "The Lord's my shepherd ; I'll not want : 
 He makes me down to lie 
 In pastures green ; He leadeth me 
 The quiet waters by." 
 
 To some of those God-fearers the song is a mat- 
 ter of faith rather than of feeling. To others it is 
 a spring of hope and expectation, whilst in some 
 hearts it stirs joy and love.- There are those too 
 who as yet knowing not conscious faith, or hope, or 
 love, or joy, dimly discern the beauty of this holy, 
 blessed, childlike worship, and secretly desire, al- 
 most without perceiving in themselves the desire, 
 
A Highlanders Prayer. 15 
 
 to know the happiness of that people whose God is 
 the Lord. 
 
 When the Psalm is sung all heads are bent and 
 a prayer follows — such a prayer as we have heard 
 among the heather on a hill-side: "0 God, oor souls 
 are jist as dry as the heather : oor herts are as hard 
 as the granite stane : but Thou that gi'est the draps 
 o' dew to the heather, gie us the drappins o' thy 
 grace this day, and let thy ain love licht upon oor 
 hard herts like the birdie sittin' singin' on the rock 
 yonner; an' fill the souls o' thy fowk this day wi' 
 peace and joy till they're rinnin' o'er like the water- 
 spout on the brae. Lord, it'll be nae loss to you, 
 an' it'll be a grand bargain for us, an' we'll mind ye 
 on't tae a' eternity. Amen." 
 
 The Haldanes were at this time engaged in their 
 noble evangelistic labors. Mr. Cowie permitted 
 James Haldane to occupy his pulpit, whilst him- 
 self remained at the door to listen. At the close of 
 the service the minister, convinced that God was 
 with the lay-preacher, rushed into the church and 
 invited the people to return in the evening and again 
 hear the stranger. For this encouragement given 
 to an evangelist manifestly heaven-sent, Cowie was 
 thrust out of the Secession. But he was not the 
 man to be silenced. His faith and zeal rose to the 
 occasion: he went on preaching and laboring for 
 souls as he had never done before, and the result 
 was the formation of an Independent Church. The 
 light spread. The torch was rudely shaken, but the 
 
1 6 Rowland Hill. 
 
 flame rose upon the night, and many afar off won- 
 dered and came to see. In barns and out-of-the- 
 way places meetings were held; and often in the 
 open air the manly voice of George Cowie was heard 
 calling sinners to the Saviour in terms he loved to 
 repeat — "There is life for a look! there is life for a 
 look!" 
 
 This faithful servant of God was consumed with 
 zeal. He was sometimes so overpowered with a 
 sense of the value of souls that he needed to be 
 supported by the elders as he went from the vestry 
 to the pulpit. Blessed, surely, are such ministers, 
 and highly favored the people who enjoy their min- 
 istry! Speaking of preaching, Mr. Cowie used to 
 say, " Go direct to conscience, and in every sermon 
 take your hearers to the judgment-seat." One day 
 a preacher, who occupied his place, spoke as if the 
 Holy Spirit was not needed by either saint or sinner. 
 At the close of the service, Cowie stood up on the 
 pulpit steps, and solemnly said, " Sirs, haud in wi' 
 your auld freen, the Holy Ghost, for if ye ance grieve 
 Him awa, ye'll nae get Him back sae easy." 
 
 Here Mr. Rowland Hill used to preach with all 
 his wonted dash and power. At a diet of catechis- 
 ing, a method of teaching to which some of the most 
 valuable and characteristic elements of the old Scot- 
 tish religion were due, the English evangelist was 
 present and put a few simple questions. The an- 
 swers were promptly and correctly given with the 
 superadded request of an old man, " Gang deeper, 
 
Wise to Win Sozds. 17 
 
 sir, gang deeper." Mr. Hill having expressed his 
 satisfaction with the results of the examination, the 
 aged inquirer asked and obtained permission to put 
 a question. " Sir," said he to Mr. Hill, " can ye rec- 
 oncile the universal call o' the Gospel wi' the doc- 
 trine o' a particler eleck?" In reply Mr. Hill frank- 
 ly admitted that while he held both the doctrine of 
 election and the universal call, he was unable to 
 solve the theological problem proposed by the gray- 
 headed inquirer. 
 
 Mr. Cowie exhibited fine tact in dealing with 
 men. " One of his attached hearers was the wife of 
 a wealthy farmer, who, after weeping and praying 
 in vain for her imgodly husband, brought her grief 
 before her pastor, whose preaching she could by no 
 persuasion induce him to hear. After listening to 
 the case, Avhich seemed quite inaccessible, he in- 
 quired, ' Is there any thing your good man has a 
 liking to?' 'He heeds for nothing in this world,' 
 was the reply, ' forbye his beasts and his siller, an' 
 it be na his fiddle.' The hint was enough: the 
 minister soon found his way to the farm-house, 
 where after a dry reception, and kindly inquiries 
 about cattle and corn, he awoke the farmer's feel- 
 ings on the subject of his favorite pastime. The 
 fiddle was produced, and the man of earth was 
 astonished and charmed with the sweet music it 
 gave forth in the hands of the feared and hated man 
 of God. The minister next induced him to promise 
 to return his call, by the offered treat of a finer in- 
 2 
 
1 8 Influence of Traditions. 
 
 strument in his own house, where he was deHghted 
 with the swelhng tones of a large viohn, and needed 
 then but sHght persuasion from his wife to accom- 
 pany her and hear his friend preach. The word 
 took effect in conviction and salvation; and the 
 grovelling earth-worm was transformed into a free- 
 hearted son of God, fall of the lively hope of the 
 great inheritance above."* 
 
 This good and faithful servant of Jesus Christ, 
 loved and honored over a wide extent of country, 
 died and left behind him the precious legacy of 
 many spiritual children bearing the likeness of his 
 own hearty, thorough, downright Christian charac- 
 ter. Thousands followed his body to the grave, and 
 on his tombstone were inscribed the words of the 
 prophet Daniel, "They that be wise shall shine as 
 the brightness of the firmament; and they that 
 turn many to righteousness, as the stars forever 
 and ever." In after years his grand-nephew, Dun- 
 can Matheson, when newly ushered into the mar- 
 velous light of the Gospel, used to kneel beside the 
 grave in the silence and solitude of night, and cry 
 mightily to heaven, praying that the mantle of his 
 venerated relative might fall upon him, and that 
 the words of the prophet might be illustrated in 
 him also. That prayer was abundantly answered. 
 
 We are strangely linked to the past; its tradi- 
 tions, especially such as come to us through the 
 
 * Life and Letters of Elizabeth, last Duchess of Gordon. By 
 the Rev. A. Moody Stuart. 
 
Duncan's Early Convictions of Sin. 19 
 
 channel of flesh and blood, go far to make ns what 
 we are. Though the Matheson family were con- 
 nected with the Established Church, they had strong 
 leanings to the godly Dissenters ; and in his early 
 life Duncan drank in the story and teaching of his 
 uncle from his mother's lips. The banner which 
 dropped from the hands of George Cowie was taken 
 up and nobly sustained by Mr. Hill, the pastor of 
 the Independent Church, and ]\Ir. Millar, the minis- 
 ter of the Secession, faithful servants of Jesus Christ, 
 whose indefatigable labors prepared the ground for 
 the wider sowing and richer harvest of our time. 
 One day the worthy pastor of the Independent 
 Church laid his hand upon the head of the boister- 
 ously frank and manly boy as he romped on the 
 street, and bestowed upon him a prayerful blessing. 
 Did the man of God see in young ^latheson a sec- 
 ond George Cowie, and even then separate the lad 
 unto the Gospel of Christ by the laying on of be- 
 lieving hands? There are foretokens of a man's 
 future that find no place in our philosophy. At 
 any rate the susceptible heart of the boy was thus 
 impressed, and he used to follow the godly minister 
 upon the street with a cinious and wondering rev- 
 erence. Throughout life he never forgot the gen- 
 tle hand laid upon his head — the blessing and the 
 prayer. 
 
 From infancy up through boyhood the good an- 
 gel of conviction never ceased to follow Duncan 
 Matheson. Sometimes there is a lull of unholy 
 
20 One Who Cared for His Soul. 
 
 peace ; then comes a disturbed period when the gra- 
 cious Spirit strives with the rebel heart. Now he 
 seems near the kingdom of God; suddenly a back- 
 wave of temptation carries him anew into the deep. 
 Frequently he is all but overcome by drawings of 
 invisible love; but as yet young flesh and blood 
 prove too strong for these gentle touches of grace. 
 One evening he is passing along the street and hears 
 the sound of praise issuing from a cottage where a 
 prayer-meeting is in progress. A good impulse 
 carries him to the window. Peering in at a chink, 
 he sees the faces of the company brightened up by 
 no ordinary radiance, and as he listens he hears 
 their glad voices singing, 
 
 " greatly bless' d the people are 
 The joyful sound that know ; 
 In brightness of thy trice, Lord, 
 They ever on shall go," 
 
 His heart is touched ; he wishes he were amongst 
 them to share their joy; but like one who would 
 purchase a pearl were it not for the greatness of the 
 price, he goes away with nothing but vague long- 
 ings and hesitating resolves. These feelings do not 
 last long ; they are but the morning cloud and early 
 dew. Next day he is a very ringleader in perse- 
 cuting the children of the saints, whom he mocks 
 and calls by opprobrious names. 
 
 A special interest was taken in young Matheson's 
 spiritual welfare by James Maitland, an aged Chris- 
 
One Who Cared for His Soul. 21 
 
 tian and a convert of Mr. Cowie's. This old disciple 
 was always ready in his own quaint and homely way 
 to testify to the truth and grace of God. When a 
 shallow theorist one day attempted to make the way 
 into the kingdom of heaven easy to the flesh, James 
 said, " I ken verra weel that a human faith can re- 
 ceive a human testimony ; but, man, dinna ye ken it 
 needs a divine faith to receive a di^nne testimony." 
 To another who paid him a compliment for his Chris- 
 tian worth, he replied, " I sometimes wonner if I'm 
 a Christian at a' ; for ye ken we ocht to lay doon our 
 lives for the brithren, but I can hardly bring mysel' 
 to like the cross-grained anes." He kept an eye on 
 the young people of the place, and his wise, loving 
 counsels were not in vain. To a lad about to leave 
 the town he said, "Young man, you are like a ship 
 going to sea without compass or helm." These words 
 led to his conversion. Maitland's heart was much 
 drawn to Duncan Matheson, in whom he could dis- 
 cern not a little of the natm-al character of his min- 
 ister and spiritual father. Duncan strove hard to 
 keep out of the old man's way, but being sent on an 
 errand one day to ^laitland's house he was fairly 
 caught. James shut the door on himself and the 
 boy, and began to tell him the story of ]\Ir. Cowie's 
 conversion. This done he brought the conversation 
 to a practical bearing by asking the lad about his 
 soul's case. The answer was unsatisfactory. 
 
 Then followed homely, tender words about " God's 
 wonderfu' love to sinners," and " the warm hert o' 
 
22 His Mother s Instruction. 
 
 Jesus yirnin' to save," and "the kind Spirit strivin' wi* 
 a' his micht," with solemn remonstrance as well as 
 touching appeal, not without effect, since conscience 
 was all on James's side. Duncan went away very 
 unhappy. The hour of decision had not yet arrived ; 
 but one gun on the rampart of unbelief had been 
 spiked. The impression made by Maitland's faithful 
 words and tender dealings was never wholly lost. 
 Speaking of this period he says, " My conscience 
 often pricked me, and if the thunder rolled I went 
 to prayer. I knew only the Lord's prayer, and used it 
 as an incantation to ward off evil. If I saw a funeral 
 I trembled, and thoughts of judgment pressed hard 
 upon me." One evening his mother, who instead of 
 always speaking directly to her childi'en about sal- 
 vation, wisely followed the method of reading aloud 
 from some interesting book, had fallen upon a well- 
 known illustration of the endlessness of eternity. 
 Suppose a little bird comes once in a thousand 
 years and carries away a particle of dust from yon 
 lofty mountain, how vast a number of years must 
 elapse ere the huge mass has been entirely removed ! 
 And yet when those countless myriads of years have 
 come and gone, eternity will be no nearer an end 
 than it was at first. What, then, will be the misery 
 of the lost in the place where their worm dieth not, 
 and the fire is not quenched? Such was the impres- 
 sion made upon tlie boy's mind that he could not 
 sleep, and spent a great part of the night in weep- 
 ing. The germ of truth thus lodged by a mother's 
 
Dread of Future Punishment. 23 
 
 hand in the heart of her son was not lost. It did not 
 indeed result in his immediate conversion, but it took 
 hold of his spirit, and by the blessing of God became 
 a great power in his soul ; for throughout his entire 
 Christian course one thought was never absent from 
 his view, one motive never ceased to work mightily 
 in his heart, one argument never failed to drop from 
 his lips with amazing power on the ears of thou- 
 sands, and that was the endlessness of eternity. Lit- 
 tle did that mother dream of the great work she was 
 doing as she read the simple illustration in the hear- 
 ing of her boy. Little did she imagine the vast har- 
 vest to be reaped fi^om that seedling, and the mighty 
 forces that were being set in motion by so gentle a 
 touch. 
 
 The dread of future punishment held him in check, 
 even in his most lawless days. "The eternity of it," 
 he says, " more than any thing else, awed me, and if 
 I could have persuaded myself that after thousands 
 of years the torments of hell should cease, I would 
 have given full swing to my evil heart, and more 
 madly than I was even then doing would have 
 rushed on to eternal death." 
 
 The death of his sister Ann, " a sweet, holy child, 
 who talked of Jesus with her latest breath," drew 
 the furrows of conviction fresh and deep in his al- 
 ready well-ploughed heart ; and as he stood by the 
 grave, " the dull, muffled sound of the clods drop- 
 ping upon the coffin-lid seemed to ring into his 
 conscience this one word, Eternity." 
 
24 One Step Towards the Light. 
 
 Sickness followed : it was another gentle messen- 
 ger from Him whose name is Love. Many thorns 
 now vexed his pillow ; it was sovereign grace arous- 
 ing him from his dangerous sleep. A host of evils 
 seemed to surround him; it was a host of angels 
 sent to shut him in and chase the wanderer home. 
 As yet he saw not the Saviour; he saw only the 
 clouds that are about his throne. The darkness 
 which he imagined revealed the Avenger con- 
 cealed his Eedeemer, and the sounds that seemed 
 to his awakened conscience to be the roll of the 
 chariot wheels of death, were but the echoes of ap- 
 proaching salvation. Sometimes he would bury his 
 fears in the grave of good resolution, and write 
 upon the tombstone, "By and by;" but from the 
 dead his convictions would arise with ghastly hor- 
 ror, and then his wretchedness, overflowing its 
 banks, would pour itself out in wrathful torrents, 
 making the whole house unhappy and even afraid. 
 They knew not the terrible conflict that raged in 
 his breast; they saw not the misery of the mad- 
 dened spirit wrestling with the Almighty, and heard 
 not the despairing cry, " Would God I had never 
 been born?" 
 
 Before his mind's eye one great truth now began 
 to appear in hazy outline. The absolute necessity 
 of being born again was beginning to take hold of 
 his thoughts. It was a point gained — one step 
 towards the light. Not seldom did he pray God to 
 convert him, though, like Augustine, he was fain 
 
Disrtiption of the Chtirch. 25 
 
 to add "not yet." Some friends perceiving his 
 talents advised him to enter the University, and 
 offered him a bursary on condition of his studying 
 for the ministry — a course which his parents ear- 
 nestly desired him to follow ; but he refused, saying 
 with characteristic frankness, "A minister ought 
 to be a converted and a holy man. I am not that. 
 I cannot do it." When he and two companions 
 were urged to become menlbers of the church, 
 straightforward as usual, he replied, "I am not con- 
 verted, and you know it. G is not converted, 
 
 nor is D . We are on the brink, and you would 
 
 push us over. You would have us go to the Lord's 
 table in our sins, and then on Sabbath evening you 
 would pray for the unworthy communicants." Turn- 
 ing to his companions he said, "Come away;" and 
 as he went out of the minister's presence he said to 
 himself, "The whole thing is a sham. I may as 
 well be an infidel." In all this there may have 
 been a lack of courtesy, and a little pride ; but he 
 had noticed the unfaithfulness of certain pastors in 
 the admission of young communicants, and the sad 
 effect on the communicants themselves, who made 
 a pillow of the Lord's table for thek deadly slum- 
 bers, and his honest spirit rebelled against what he 
 believed to be an unholy sham. 
 
 The disruption of the Church of Scotland with its 
 stirring events drew near. Patronage was doing 
 its evil works. The conflict between the Church 
 and the civil power was becoming more fierce and 
 
26 Preaching of Robert M'Cheyne. 
 
 •ancompromising. A minister was thrust into the 
 parish of Marnoch against the will of the people. 
 Duncan Matheson was present at the forced settle- 
 ment, and, young though he was, warmly sympa- 
 thized with the Christian flock, whose rights were 
 thus trampled under foot. The scene made a deep 
 impression on his heart. But not until he submit- 
 ted himself to the Lord Jesus did he rightly under- 
 stand the great question of the time — ^the indepen- 
 dence of the Church, and the Crown rights of the 
 Saviour as her sole King and Head. At this time 
 able and faithful ministers of the Gospel were sent 
 down to Strathbogie, the scene of conflict. The 
 word was with great power. On one occasion Mr. 
 Moody Stuart preached a sermon on the strait gate, 
 which Duncan Matheson says was blessed to many 
 souls. On another occasion the Lord's Supper was 
 dispensed by Mr. Cumming, of Dunbarney, and Mr. 
 M'Cheyne, Dundee. The people met in the open 
 air and sat upon the grass listening to the word. 
 In the afternoon the sky darkened, and the thunder 
 pealing overhead added an awful solemnity to the 
 service. In the evening Robert M'Cheyne preached 
 with "Eternity stamped upon his brow." "I think 
 I can yet see his seraphic countenance," says Mathe- 
 son, "and hear his sweet and tender voice. I was 
 spell-bomid, and could not keep my eyes off him for 
 a moment. He announced his text — Paul's thorn 
 in the flesh. What a sermon! I trembled, and 
 never felt God so near. His appeals went to my 
 
Grieving the Spirit. 27 
 
 heart, and as he spoke of the last great day in the 
 darkening twihght, for once I began to pray. At the 
 close he invited all those who were anxious to re- 
 tire to the chapel. Here began a tremendous strug- 
 gle in my heart, a struggle I can recall as if it had 
 been but yesterday. I looked to see if my special 
 
 friend D. McP was going in, but I could see 
 
 him nowhere. He afterwards told me he was look- 
 ing for me with a like desire. Were he to go in, I 
 Avould. Were he to be a Christian, I would. Slow- 
 ly I went through the darkness, and reached the 
 chapel, with the words, 'Quench not the Sphit,' 
 ringing in my ears. I looked in at the window and 
 saw many there I knew. I hesitated : I approached 
 the door and looked in. Hastily I turned back. 
 The die was cast. The tempter whispered, ' Anoth- 
 er time.' Alas! alas! 
 
 ' I chose the world and an endless shroud. ' 
 
 Oh the long-suffering of God ! Then and there how 
 justly might God have said, 'Let him alone.' I de- 
 served it. I was near the kingdom : I stood trem- 
 bling on the threshold : I did not enter in. My case 
 should lead no one to presume, not one in thousands, 
 perhaps, in such a state as mine was — trifling with 
 God — is ever saved. It is a solemn thing to say to- 
 morroio when God says to-day / for man's to-morrow 
 and God's to-day never meet. The word that comes 
 from the eternal throne is noio^ and it is a man's own 
 choice that fixes his doom." 
 
28 DuncarHs Choice of a Calling. 
 
 After this grieving of the Holy Ghost, Duncan 
 Matheson tried hard "to forget all about eternity, 
 and took to novel-reading." For a season he seemed 
 to be too successful: he was intoxicated with the 
 vanities of fiction, and plunged into all but utter 
 oblivion of God. It was probably owing to this sad 
 experience that he never ceased to deplore the inju- 
 rious effect of novel-reading on the minds and hearts 
 of the young, and to denounce in no measured terms 
 the conduct of Christians and ministers who give too 
 great encouragement to indulgence in the sensa- 
 tional literature of our day. He once found a trashy 
 work of fiction on the pillow of a dying person. No 
 marvel, then, if he spoke strongly of the evil. From 
 Dreamland into Eternity — what a transition ! 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 HIS YOUTH AND CONVERSION. 
 
 The time had arrived when Duncan Matheson, 
 now sixteen years of age, must decide as to his 
 future calling. His education was good for his 
 years, his talents were of a superior order, and he 
 might have entered the University with the fairest 
 prospects. But fond as he was of learning, and 
 ambitious of rising in the world, the conditions 
 
Apprenticed as a Stone-Ctitter. 29 
 
 attached to his enjoyment of a college education 
 were such as he could not accept. He was uncon- 
 verted, and he would not be a minister because he 
 could not be a hypocrite. His novel-reading had 
 set him a dreaming; he would become a sculptor. 
 The mallet and chisel were his fascination ; Eome 
 and the ancient masters rose before the eye of fancy ; 
 and visions of success and glory dazzled his view. 
 But how is he to climb so lofty a steep V He boldly 
 resolves to plant his foot on the lowest possible round 
 of the ladder : he will begin his career of fame as a 
 stone-cutter. His genei:al talents, and in particular 
 his turn for mechanics, seemed to mark him out for 
 the occupation of a builder. Accordingly he was 
 apprenticed to a master, and sent to hew his native 
 sandstone at Kildrummie, where he wrote his first 
 letter to his friends at Huntly. Here, as he tells, 
 romance is quickly changed for reality. At the 
 end of six months the stone-hewing is exhausted, 
 and his master sends him to the quarry. This is 
 going down the ladder, not up; and here his ap- 
 prenticeship ends. From Kildrummie he goes to 
 Banff, where his quick parts procure him employ- 
 ment in the building of a bank. He saves all he 
 can of his wages ; and although his mother needs 
 not his aid, his affectionate heart finds an unspeak- 
 able joy in sending her all his savings. 
 
 Whilst he is hewing stones the Divine Worker is 
 busy with mallet and chisel of sharp conviction and 
 providential dealing upon his rough granite nature. 
 
30 Leaves Home for Edinburgh. 
 
 He would be a sculptor, a builder, a worker of great 
 works. The Master of all masters had another de- 
 sign, a better way, and was even now rough-hewing 
 this proud spirit, and training the young tradesman 
 to be a sculptor of souls and a builder of God's tem- 
 ple. There is no rest in the young man's spirit ; he 
 will not have religion, and yet he cannot do without 
 it. He goes to hear the late estimable minister of 
 Banff, Mr. Grant. The subject of discourse is "A 
 good man." Matheson is convinced by a clear state- 
 ment of the truth that no man can be really good, 
 good in the sight of God, who is not regenerate. He 
 next goes to hear the venerable John Murker, min- 
 ister of the Independent Church in the same town. 
 The preacher is that day reasoning, like Paul, on 
 temperance, righteousness, and judgment to come. 
 Trembling under the word, the young stone-cutter 
 goes away resolved to hear the faithful preacher no 
 more. He then turns his steps to the neighboring 
 town of Macduff, and listens for a season to Mr. 
 Leslie, the late earnest and devoted minister of the 
 Free Church ; but in vain. What he really sought 
 for, though he did not know it, was a Gospel that 
 would give him rest without repentance, and sal- 
 vation without a sacrifice of self 
 
 Work failing he returned home, bade farewell to 
 his father's house, and carrying Avitli him the coun- 
 sels and prayers of his mother, who was then in de- 
 clining health, he went to Edinburgh. Here he 
 lodged with a godly couple, who he says did all 
 
His Fellow-Workmen. 31 
 
 they could for his soul. The providential hammer 
 and chisel were again at work, and the Spirit of 
 grace plied him in various ways. He must needs 
 sit under the most faithful ministry he can find, and 
 accordingly goes to hear Mr. Moody Stuart. No 
 sooner is he seated than a lady enters the same pew, 
 and leaning her head on the book-board engages 
 in secret prayer. Matheson is self-condemned ; con- 
 science upbraids him for his prayerlessness. He 
 is now at the preacher's mercy; the truth spoken 
 with faithful plainness and holy fervor deepens his 
 unrest into anguish, and he goes away saying to 
 himself, "I cannot bear this; if I am to come here, 
 I must be converted." The evil spirit of unbelief 
 triumphed; he resolved to return to that church no 
 more. During the rest of the summer he entered 
 no place of worship, but spent his Sabbaths in walk- 
 ing abroad and in novel-reading. He dared not 
 open the Bible; the very sight of it pierced his 
 heart with an indescribable pang. He tried hard to 
 avoid every thing suggestive of eternity. Daily did 
 he flee from the presence of the Lord; and often did 
 he rebelliously banish from his mind the thoughts 
 by which the Holy Spirit was striving to draw him 
 to the Saviour. 
 
 His fellow-workmen were for the most part God- 
 less, drunken, and dissipated in the extreme. But 
 he was preserved from joining in their follies; he 
 never once could be induced to enter a public-house ; 
 and he was often shocked and saddened at the ter- 
 
32 The Never-failing Monitor. 
 
 rible miseries which these free-thinkers and free- 
 livers were constantly bringing on themselves. If 
 the fear of God did not restrain him, he remembered 
 the prayers, the counsels, and the tears of his mother. 
 When about to err, her gentle reproof sounded in his 
 ear. In his sleep he seemed to see her beckoning 
 him to the way of righteousness ; and when all else 
 failed, one monitor never failed effectually to warn 
 him away from the gates of evil ; that monitor was 
 the remembrance of his mother's hollow and ominous 
 cough. It is told of Simon Peter that throughout 
 his life the hearing of a cock crow at any hour, 
 and under all circumstances, caused him to burst 
 into tears. Such was the power of that one look of 
 love that melted the sinning disciple's heart and re- 
 claimed the wanderer. By how little a thing can 
 God hold fast a strong man, and accomplish a great 
 work ! From the day he parted with his mother till 
 the day of his death, Duncan Matheson, manly and 
 brave-hearted though he was, could never hear the 
 cough of the consumptive without being deeply 
 moved. The cords of love twined by a parent's 
 hand around his heart he could not undo ; and it 
 may be safely asserted that except the grace of God 
 nothing is more powerful than the wise affection of 
 a mother. 
 
 One night he was induced by his fellow-workmen 
 to go to an infidel meeting; but just as he was 
 about to enter the room he remembered that the 
 eye of God was upon him, he seemed to hear his 
 
His Mothers Death. 33 
 
 mother s counsel, and her dying cough. It was 
 enough. He suddenly stopped, turned back, fled 
 from the place, and went home. 
 
 When, many years afterwards, he sought for his 
 former companions in toil, he found that " most of 
 them filled a drunkard's grave; not one of them 
 was known to have turned to God." AVell might 
 he exclaim, as he did, " Oh, the wondrous grace of 
 God to me ! " 
 
 Although careful of his morals, he hated all close 
 dealing about his soul. This was the sore part 
 which could not bear to be touched. On one occa- 
 sion he met a faithful Baptist minister, who put the 
 "one thing needful" plainly before him; but young 
 Matheson adroitly shifted the ground by raising the 
 question of Infant Baptism, which proved a too suc- 
 cessful diversion from the great question. 
 
 In October, 1845, he was called home to see his 
 mother die. The last year of her life was the 
 brightest; she had reached Pisgah and could see 
 the Land of Promise. She spoke to her son of 
 Christ; entreated him to follow the Saviour; and 
 charged him to meet her in heaven. Taking his 
 hand in hers she bade him farewell, and then gen- 
 tly fell asleep in Jesus. Again, in the hour of grief 
 divine love assailed the stubborn heart, but as yet 
 the only result was a resolution to arise and seek 
 the Lord. The noblest affections of om- nature, and 
 the bitterest sorrow of life, alike and unitedly fail 
 to bring sinners to the Saviour. 
 3 
 
34 To Die or be Converted. 
 
 After building a house for his fatlier and the 
 family, he returned to Edinburgh with a strange 
 impression, of which he spake to his fiiends, that 
 either he should die or be converted there. Thus 
 the all-wise and gracious Spirit condescends to seek 
 admission into our evil hearts by the lowest door. 
 By putting before us the alternative of death or life, 
 he appeals to our self-interest and our fears, if by 
 any means He may obtain a footing within us for 
 the furtherance of his merciful design. 
 
 In Edinburgh he strove to forget his good resolu- 
 tions, and went on much as before, guarding his 
 morals, shutting out conviction, and making no sur- 
 render to the Lord Jesus. Bent on professional suc- 
 cess, he gave himself to the study of drawing and 
 the acquisition of useful knowledge, with praise- 
 worthy diligence improving his mind. To keep his 
 thoughts occupied, and his heart quiet, he resorted 
 to Freemasonry, which, as he acknowledged, did his 
 conscience no good; for he found the freedom not 
 such as he needed, and the secret no substitute for 
 the mysteries of the kingdom of God. 
 
 One day a discussion on the evidences of the truth 
 of Christianity arose among the stone-cutters. Dun- 
 can Matheson was the champion of the Bible. The 
 leading sceptic, beaten in argument, assailed reli- 
 gion through the inconsistencies of its Mends, declar- 
 ing that Matheson was the only consistent Christian 
 he had ever met. This compliment to his external 
 morality, instead of pleasing his vanity, aroused his 
 
Self-Accusation, 35 
 
 conscience, and he secretly charged hhnself with 
 sheer hypocrisy in defending the truth, to whose 
 divine power he felt in his heart he was an utter 
 stranger. Another day, seeing a fellow-workman 
 look sad, he expressed his sympathy, and found the 
 man was distressed about his sins. Matheson took 
 him aside, and although himself ignorant of the 
 righteousness of God, and justification by faith in 
 the Lord Jesus, directed him as best he could to the 
 path of life. But this act recoiled on himself, and 
 his conscience, now constantly awake, began to up- 
 braid him. " You're a hypocrite," said he to himself. 
 " You point others to Christ, and all the while you 
 are treading the way to hell yourself" Then fol- 
 lowed a fierce struggle between light and darkness ; 
 his soul was tortured almost to madness — a crisis 
 was at hand. 
 
 His state at this time is by no means uncommon. 
 On the one hand his conscience enlightened by the 
 law of God suffered him not to plunge into the 
 pleasures of the world, whilst on the other hand he 
 knew not the peace of God. He could not forget 
 God, and when he remembered God he was troubled. 
 Poised between heaven and earth, as it were, he 
 had religion enough to make him careful and sad, 
 but not enough to make him holy and happy. Into 
 infidelity he dared not plunge. Two convictions, 
 like two unseen hands, held him fast. The one, 
 firm belief in regeneration as a great fact essential 
 to salvation ; the other, an undoubted consciousness 
 
36 MatJiesons Ozvn Story 
 
 that he was not born again. As yet, however, re- 
 generation, if an acknowledged necessity, seemed 
 a dark and uninviting mystery. Thorns and briars 
 of the wilderness were now to be his teachers. He 
 was to learn the way of salvation in a fire that con- 
 sumes every thing but truth. Let us hear his own 
 story. 
 
 "On Thursday, 25th Oct., 1846, being the fast- 
 day before communion, I attended Lady Glenor- 
 chy's church, where I heard Mr. A. Bonar, biogra- 
 pher of M'Cheyne, preach on the portion of the 
 wicked in Psalm xi., 'Upon the wicked He shall 
 rain snares, fire, and brimstone, and an horrible 
 tempest: this shall be the portion of their cup.' I 
 felt as he proceeded as if all were to myself. I 
 dreaded the portion I was about to receive. I knew 
 I deserved it. I left the church weeping, but tried 
 to hush my fears by fostering in my mind a pur- 
 pose of being converted that day twelve months. 
 I had the notion that I could be converted when I 
 liked: I had only to begin praying, and reading, 
 etc., and then all would come right. Fatal delu- 
 sion! There are gales of mercy, there are tides of 
 grace, which do not always wait for us. It will 
 always be man's inconvenient season when it is 
 God's convenient time. I was afraid to return to 
 the church in the evening. Satan furnished me 
 with a pillow on which to sleep. It was this : ' If 
 you are to be converted you will be converted; 
 If not, you cannot help it.' I took the opiate 
 
of His Conversion. 37 
 
 greedily, and was rocked to sleep in the devil's 
 cradle. 
 
 "Many strike on this rock; many a noble ship 
 has been dashed to pieces here. This is not Calvin- 
 ism, but fatalism. Can the husbandman expect to 
 reap if he does not sow, or the sailor reach the port 
 if he does not spread the sail to catch the breeze ? 
 What sick man would say, ' If I am to get well I 
 shall, no matter though a physician be not called 
 or medicine taken.' Of all preachers of election, 
 Satan is the worst. He distorts that glorious truth, 
 the first link in the golden chain of man's salvation. 
 He hides the blood of Christ through which sinners 
 should behold it. He keeps out of sight the only 
 decree with which sinners have to do, viz., 'He 
 that believeth not shall be damned.' 'You are not 
 elect,' said the adversary to a sorely-tried Christian. 
 'Elect!' replied the man of God. 'Have you seen 
 the book of God? Liar, get you hence; I have had 
 more than ye ever had — an offer of Jesus Christ, 
 and I have taken Him.' 
 
 "Next day I was sad, and unable to smile; but I 
 tried to conceal my state. Sermon after sermon rose 
 to mind, and my dying mother's counsels flashed into 
 my heart. When the church bells began to ring on 
 Saturday, two fellow-workmen, G. T. and M. T., in- 
 fidels, began to curse and swear, blaspheming espe- 
 cially the Lord's Supper. Shocked, I could have fled 
 from the place ; and the prayer came into my heart, 
 ' Father, forgive them ; for they know not what they 
 
38 Matheso7i' s Ozvn Story 
 
 do.' Then a voice seemed to say, 'How do you take 
 the name of Father into your lips, seeing you reject 
 Christ ? Your hell will be deeper than theirs ; for 
 you know, and do not. God is not your Father: 
 Satan is.' 
 
 "I could work no more, and I went home to pon- 
 der and weep. The arrow was driven home ; and 
 this time I did not seek to withdraw it. On Sabbath 
 morning I was early astir, and, Bible in hand, was 
 the first at church. In serving a table, Mr. Bonar 
 said, 'This is a feast of love, the deepest love.' A 
 voice seemed to ask me, 'Why are you not at it?' 
 My heart was thrilled. I looked round, and saw 
 no one. The question drove me from the church, 
 and I rushed home. Even in this solemn hour I 
 dared dally with my convictions, and went to see 
 a friend, resolved to shun the church lest I should be 
 tormented afresh. My heart was too full to con- 
 ceal my thoughts, and I began to speak about re- 
 ligion. The topic being manifestly disagreeable, 
 I left the house with feelings of wounded pride. 
 Eeaching the Calton Hill, I looked down upon the 
 city, with its thousands of gleaming lights, and 
 upward to the stars, which seemed to shine most 
 sweetly upon me. I felt inwardly urged to go to 
 church. I went with reluctance, and almost not 
 knowing what I was doing, or whither I was going. 
 I became desperate and passed the church door, 
 but returned as if some invisible power moved me 
 against my will. Again, when I was about to en- 
 
of His Co7iversion, 39 
 
 ter, I tore myself away. Two powers seemed to be 
 lugging me hither and thither. Again I returned, 
 and with a bound crossed the threshold, and mount- 
 ing the gallery stairs took my seat in the passage. 
 I felt I was a poor, miserable castaway. The ser- 
 mon was nearly finished. One showed me the text : 
 'The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, 
 long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, 
 keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and 
 transgression and sin, and that will by no means 
 clear the guilty' (Ex. xxxiv. 6, 7). Mr. A. Bonar 
 was preacher, and had come to the words, 'will by 
 no means clear the guilty.' In a moment I felt 
 the burning, piercing eye of God upon me. A 
 mountain of wrath seemed to crush me down ; and 
 hell was opened beneath me. All round about me 
 seemed to be on fire. Louder than the loudest 
 thunder came the words: 'By no means clear the 
 guilty ; ' and, ' Cursed is every one that continueth 
 not in all things that are written in the book of the 
 law to do them.' The congregation was dismissed; 
 the people departed; but I remained fixed to the 
 spot. Some as they passed gave me a look of pity. 
 At last I rose and reeled home to my lodgings, real- 
 izing with awful vividness God, heaven, hell, judg- 
 ment, and eternity. Falling on my knees I uttered 
 my first real prayer, ' God be merciful to me, a sin- 
 ner.' I was now thoroughly awakened, but I was 
 not saved. 
 
 " When the eyes are opened by the Holy Ghost, 
 
40 His Own Story. 
 
 how differently are all things seen : they stand forth 
 then in then- true light. I saw the mass around me 
 hurrying unsaved to eternity. I wondered they 
 could laugh. It seemed to me like the condemned 
 dancing on the scaffold. The heavens seemed as if 
 clothed in sackcloth. Wherever I went I felt the 
 burning eye of God upon me; and the threatenings 
 of the Word came like peals of artillery in quick suc- 
 cession. I feared I should drop into hell at every 
 step, and, like most other awakened sinners, I began 
 to work for life. The language of my heart was, 
 * Have patience with me, and I will pay Thee all.' 
 How I did pray, and agonize, and suffer ! I was on 
 the wrong track, and did not know that 
 
 '"Doing is a deadly thing, 
 Doing ends in death.' 
 
 I began to read many chapters, thinking that would 
 do me good. I prayed all day long, but I was no 
 better. If a tear started to my eye I felt proud of 
 it, and thought surely now Jesus will regard my 
 case. I had a long stair of seventy steps to climb 
 to my room : at every step I uttered a prayer. Like 
 Luther as he ascended the steps in the church at 
 Kome, I groaned out a petition for deliverance ; but 
 no voice came to me saying, 'The just shall live by 
 faith.' I labored to make of my works a ladder to 
 heaven. I put my anxiety in place of Christ; and 
 instead of seeldng the One to be believed in, I set 
 out in search of faith. Many a weary hour I spent 
 
A Mistaken Gtiide. 41 
 
 trying to discover what faith is. I read all the books 
 I could find, and searched the Word of God. Faith! 
 faith ! faith ! was still my cry. Oh, if I had faith ! 
 The Star of Bethlehem was shining brightly before 
 me. Jesus was standing near. He was uttering hia 
 voice, ' Look unto Me, and be ye saved.' But I passed 
 Him by. 
 
 " I went to a minister in Edinburgh, who began 
 to tell me how good a thing it was to be awakened, 
 and with a view to my being comforted applied pas- 
 sages of Scripture that belong only to the people of 
 God. He urged me to hope, instead of bidding me 
 believe. Thus many are led to hope they may be 
 saved, and rest there, instead of obeying the com- 
 mand of God to 'believe on Him whom He hath sent.' 
 The effect was, I became proud of my convictions ; 
 my fears were hushed ; for some days I felt great self- 
 satisfaction ; and, thinking that He who had begun a 
 good work would carry it on, went smoothly. 
 
 " Some days after this I was startled by finding 
 my heart beginning to love things I had forsaken, 
 and then came the terrible question, What if this is 
 false peace ? I felt I had not taken hold of Christ, 
 and something said. Now or never ! noAv or never ! 
 Make sure work for eternity ! 
 
 " How few can deal with anxious souls ! Here 
 was a good man settling me on my lees, taking the 
 children's bread and giving it to a dog. He had no 
 right to give me any promise addressed to the chil- 
 dren of God. The promises are all yea and amen, 
 
42 Conversation with Christopher Anderson. 
 
 but only in Christ Jesus. From Genesis to Revela- 
 tion the promises belong to the Christian : they are 
 his in Christ. Many have gone down to hell, pillow- 
 ing their head on a promise, but not taking Christ. 
 The good man was wrong in applying to me the text, 
 ' Being confident of this very thing, that He which 
 hath begun a good work in you will perform it until 
 the day of Jesus Christ ' (Phil. i. 6) ; for it refers to 
 the work of sanctification, and as yet I was not 
 justified. 
 
 " Mr. Cowie used to say, ' Some get such a fright 
 at Sinai that they are in danger of running past 
 Jerusalem ; ' that is to say, the very depth of their 
 convictions may prevent them from entering the 
 kingdom, for fear their peace may not be right. 
 So it was with me. Fearing lest I should come 
 short of eternal life, I cared not what happened if 
 only I might be really saved. 
 
 "I sought my old friend John Cameron, who 
 wept in his sympathy with me, and took me to his 
 minister, Christopher Anderson (Baptist), author of 
 the 'Annals of the English Bible.' This devoted 
 man listened to my story, told in a romantic style ; 
 for I spoke of my sufferings as if I was passing 
 through purgatorial fires. He saw I was lifted up, 
 and said, ' Young man, were I to say I am pleased 
 with you, you would go down that stair in a happy 
 frame, but you are yet far from the kingdom of 
 God. You have never yet dealt with the justice of 
 God. His justice in condemning you for breaking 
 
Dawning Light. 43 
 
 Ms law has never yet entered your thouglits. I see 
 you are angry with God for not giving you salva- 
 tion as the reward of works. But it must be grace 
 from first to last.' After a few words he told me to 
 go. I thought it very harsh. I seemed cut off 
 from all hope. I reeled to the door, and when I 
 readied the street I felt shut up to God and alone 
 with him, and exclaimed, ' God, it shall hence- 
 forth be Thee, and Thee alone.' After this I desired 
 that every thing might be settled between God and 
 myself, and I prayed that every truth might be 
 burnt into my heart by the Holy Ghost. 
 
 "Wearied and anxious, I left for home. A great 
 change was seen in me. My fierce temper was 
 checked : the lion had thus far become a lamb. All 
 the town heard of it, and pitied the poor lad who 
 had, as they thought, gone mad. Old companions 
 who I feared would hinder me never came near me. 
 Faith was still the prevailing question. The doc- 
 trine of the imputation of Adam's sin I could not 
 see, and I rebelled against the sovereignty of God, 
 and thought He dealt hardly with me. Slow- 
 ly the truth in regard to imputation was opened 
 up. Dimly I began to see that I had nothing 
 but unholy thoughts, words, or deeds, and that for 
 these I must die. I saw that Jesus only had holy 
 thoughts, words, and deeds, and that these were 
 placed to my account the moment I believed. I 
 wanted a righteousness in which I could appear 
 before God, and slowly Jehovah-Tsidkenu, the Lord 
 
44 Salvation. 
 
 Himself oiir Eigliteousness, shone forth in all his 
 gloiy. 
 
 " I was standing on the 10th December, 1846, at 
 the end of my father's house, and meditating on 
 that precious word which has brought peace to 
 comitless weary ones ; ' God so loved the world, 
 that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoso- 
 ever believeth in Him should not perish, but have 
 everlasting life' (John iii. 16). I saw that God 
 loved me, for I was one of the world. I saw the 
 proof of His love in the giving of His Son Jesus. I 
 saw that ' whosoever ' meant any body and every 
 body, and therefore me^ even me. I saw the result 
 of believing — that I would not perish, but have 
 everlasting life. I was enabled to take God at his 
 word. I saw no one, but Jesus only, all in all in 
 redemption. My burden fell from my back, and I 
 was saved. Yes, saved ! That hour angels re- 
 joiced over one more sinner brought to the Saviour, 
 and new songs rang through the courts of that city 
 to which I had now got a title, and of which I had 
 now become an heir. Bunyan describes his pilgrim 
 as giving three leaps for joy as his burden rolled 
 into the open sepulchre of Christ. I could not con- 
 tain myself for joy. I sang the new song, salvation 
 through the blood of the Lamb. The very heavens 
 appeared as if covered with glory. I felt the calm 
 of a pardoned sinner ; yet I had no thought about 
 my safety. I saw only the person of Jesus. I 
 wept for my sin that had nailed Him to the cross, 
 
Telling the Glad Story. 45 
 
 and they were tears of true repentance. Formerly 
 I had set np repentance as a toll between me and 
 the cross ; now it came freely as the tear that faith 
 wept. I felt I had passed from death unto life — 
 that old things had passed away, and all things had 
 become new. 
 
 " I wondered I had stumbled at the simplicity of 
 the way. I saw every thing so plain that I longed 
 to go and tell all the world. I felt as if I could at 
 once convince the most sceptical and the most 
 hardened ; and that if I met a thousand Manassehs 
 I could say, 'Yet there is room.' I went every- 
 where, telling my glad story. Some even of the 
 saints looked incredulous. Others, like the elder 
 brother in the parable, did not like the music and 
 the dancing. They had never left their Father's 
 dwelling; they had never been sin-sick, and knew 
 not what it is to be healed ; no fatted calf had been 
 killed for them. These warned me against enthu- 
 siasm, and exhorted me to be sober-minded. One 
 old man told me 1 was on the mount, but would 
 soon be down again. Another said I needed great 
 humility ; but I went on singing my song. Prayer 
 had given place to praise, and night and day for 
 more than three days I continued to thank God for 
 ' his unspeakable gift.' I longed to die that I might 
 sin no more, and discover more fully the height and 
 the depth, the length and the breadth of that love 
 which I now knew 'passeth knowledge.'" 
 
46 Shadows. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 SPIRITUAL DISCIPLINE. 
 
 "He knoweth the way tliat I take ; when He hath tried me, I shall com© 
 forth as gold."— Job xxiii. 10. 
 
 " I asked the Lord that I might grow- 
 In faith, and love, and every grace; 
 Might more of His salvation know, 
 And seek more earnestly His face. 
 
 " 'Twas He who taught me thus to pray. 
 And He I trust has answered prayer; 
 But it has been in such a way 
 As almost drove me to despair." 
 
 You have seen a bright week of too early spring. 
 The sun has suddenly poured down an unusual 
 warmth. The brooks and streams emancipated from 
 the frost begin to babble afresh. The little birds are 
 full of joy, and warble a welcome to the genial year. 
 The buds are swelling, here and there a flower peeps 
 out, and the first tint of greenness is upon the earth. 
 Unexpectedly the sun, as if he had but mocked, with- 
 draws his smiling favors ; frost, as if he had lain in 
 ambush, returns with his cruel bonds ; the more ad- 
 venturous flowers are ruthlessly slain; the birds are 
 dumb with amazement and sorrow; and all the 
 voices of nature are again hushed. Life and death 
 are now fiercely struggling ; but the former, though 
 for a while overborne, at length wins. 
 
A Season of Bondage. 47 
 
 To this the spiritual world is not without its par- 
 allel. So it fell out in the experience of Duncan 
 Matheson. His few days of enlargement and joy 
 were followed by a weary season of bondage and 
 misery. His song of triumph was quickly followed 
 by the burning thirst of unsatisfied spiritual desire, 
 the bitter waters of a ]\Iarah experience, and all the 
 anguish and travail of the wilderness. It was as 
 when the sun has just arisen upon some benighted 
 traveller, and he is making his escape from ffearful 
 dangers amidst dazzling floods of light. Suddenly 
 again it becomes pitch dark, and night without a 
 star overshadows his path. During those years the 
 young Christian's joy, if not also his faith, suffered 
 an eclipse. Like a lamb bleating for its lost mother, 
 he went about during those weary months bemoan- 
 ing himself with piteous lamentations and sorrow. 
 But a fighting faith is as precious as a resting faith, 
 though not so pleasant ; and stern battle is the way 
 to victory. 
 
 "Gradually," he says, "my joy began to abate. 
 I had been soaring on the eagle wings of praise, 
 but now my song failed. At any rate, I thought, I 
 am free of sin ; but, alas, I soon discovered that in 
 my flesh dwelleth no good thing. I could see two 
 distinct principles at work in me — the flesh and the 
 Spirit. To an old Christian of experience I com- 
 plained that I was dead. 
 
 " ' Dead 1 ' said he, with a curious twinkle in his 
 eye; 'you are a curiosity. I never heard a dead 
 
48 /;/ the Wilderness. 
 
 man speak before. There comes nae a sigh frae a 
 coffin, and they never cry feich in the grave. Ye're 
 nae dead, but feehn' deadness. After having been 
 dandled on the knees of consolation you must 
 be weaned, and go and fecht the battles of the 
 Lord.' This gave me a little comfort, but only a 
 little. 
 
 " Young converts live more by sense than faith, 
 and they must be taught that Jesus Himself, and 
 not the comforts He gives, is their life. The wean- 
 ing time is a critical period; then it is a man's 
 Christian character is stamped. Skilful teachers 
 are needed to show the workings of nature and 
 grace, to separate the precious from the vile, so that 
 he who begins in the Spirit may not be led away to 
 seek perfection in the flesh. I was now in a wil- 
 derness, sorely tempted of the devil. The fountains 
 of the great deep were broken up, Satan came down 
 on my soul like a sweeping avalanche, and I was 
 tempted to curse God and die. I staggered beneath 
 my burden day and night for nearly two years. 
 Terrible were the fiery darts with which I was as- 
 sailed. Horrible and unutterable thoughts of God, 
 of the Holy Ghost, and of Jesus, were injected into 
 my mind. If I began to sing, the very note 
 seemed to be changed into a blasphemy on the 
 tip of my tongue, and many a time have I had to 
 put my fingers in my ears and my hand on my 
 mouth. These bolts of hell caused me indescriba- 
 ble anguish and sorrow, and never till I saw they 
 
Two Years of Conflict. 49 
 
 were not mine but Satan's did I get deliverance 
 from them. 
 
 "Sometimes he tortured me about election; some- 
 times he suggested that my former joy was only the 
 joy of the stony ground hearers ; sometimes that I 
 had fallen away, and that according to the Word of 
 God in the Epistle to the Hebrews, chap. vi. 4-6, it 
 was impossible for me to be renewed unto repent- 
 ance. The dread of apostasy hung over me like a 
 sword from which I could not escape. The journal 
 of my spiritual life I burned, that there might be no 
 record of my apostasy left behind me. Above all, I 
 was tempted to believe I had cominitted the unpar- 
 donable sin — the sin against the Holy Ghost. ' You 
 have blasphemed,' said the tempter one day. *Go 
 and take your fill of the world ; mercy is not for you.' 
 I left the house, but had only gone a little way when 
 I was compelled to return. Taking up the ' Pilgrim's 
 Progress,' I read a note, which said, 'If you have 
 any desire to be saved, if you wish you had not 
 sinned against the Holy Ghost, you have not done 
 it.' I was somewhat relieved, and began afresh. 
 
 "When I struggled, Satan said it was of no use; 
 when I rested, he taunted me with sloth, and said, 
 ' How can you get the blessing when you are sleep- 
 ing? ' Sometimes he said, ' Where is your joy ? Are 
 not wisdom's ways ways of pleasantness ? Her paths 
 are paths of peace.' I was tempted to Atheism, to 
 Unitarianism, and was continually urged to take 
 life away. Oh the agony of those months! I suf- 
 4 
 
50 The Cross and the Crown. 
 
 fered till my frame was sadly reduced. Often did . 
 hmTy to the hill-side, and oftener to the banks of the 
 river, and my weary wail, ' Oh that I knew where I 
 might find Him ! ' mingled with the flow of the dark 
 waters. But never was I desirous of giving up. 
 Eternity was stamped on my eyeballs. I had seen 
 a sight which dimmed the glory of all else. 
 
 ♦* 'The cross, the cross ! the Christian's only glory, 
 I see the standard rise ; 
 March on, march on ! the cross of Christ before thee; 
 That cross all hell defies. 
 
 *• ♦ The cross, the cross ! redemption's standard raising, 
 I see the banner wave ; 
 Sing on the march, salvation's Captain praising; 
 'Tis Christ alone can save. 
 
 " 'The crown, the crown ! Oh, who at last shall gain it? 
 That cross a crown affords; 
 Press on, press on with courage to obtain it; 
 The battle is the Lord's.' 
 
 *'I had now and again sweet, short tastes of com- 
 ing glory. I felt as if I could have struggled cen- 
 turies to reach the goal at last. ' I was persecuted, 
 but not forsaken ; cast down, but not destroyed.' 
 Though for the most part I groaned out, ' wretch- 
 ed man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the 
 body of this death ? ' yet there were moments when 
 I could say, ' I thank God through Jesus Christ ou»* 
 Lord.' Dark indeed was the night, and starless th( 
 sky, but hope bore me up, and I felt an unseen hand 
 supporting me; and when the dark vail was for 
 
Extracts from His Diary. 5 1 
 
 a little drawn aside, I could realize the verse of 
 Cowper — 
 
 " * God moves in a mysterious way, 
 His wonders to perform; 
 He plants liis footsteps on the sea, 
 And rides upon the storm. ' 
 
 A portion of the diary mentioned above escaped 
 the fire. A few extracts from it will serve to illus- 
 trate his state of mind, and the fiery conflicts through 
 which he was then passing. Perhaps it will en- 
 courage some poor struggler to hold on his way 
 through fire and Avater till he gets into the "wealthy 
 place." 
 
 "January 2d, 1847. When I awoke in the morn- 
 ing, all my thoughts were evil and good mixed; 
 evil thoughts preponderating. Alas ! what are my 
 thoughts but evil? what my prayers but sin? what 
 my desires but mixed with self? Were I left to my 
 own heart I would perish. Throughout the day I 
 have thought awful thoughts, hard, wicked, unbe- 
 lieving thoughts of God. Satan has been raging 
 like a lion, seeking to devour me, my own heart 
 helping him. When I think of these thoughts I 
 can well say that God for one of them could justly 
 cast me off. Prayed much for the Holy Sph'it, with- 
 out whose aid I can see and do nothing. Tried to 
 rest all my thoughts on Jesus, but it is hard to do 
 so. I am always running after something of my 
 own. More settled just now (evening). Very much 
 
52 Prayer for Help. 
 
 in need of a humble heart; clearer views of Jesus; 
 a heart to acknowledge God in all things. May 
 the Holy Spirit open the eyes of my understanding, 
 lead me and guide me aright ; for left to my own 
 heart I would go astray. Enable me to cast my 
 care and burden on Jesus, who can save me. 
 
 "January 3d. Sabbath morning. Very much tor- 
 mented with awful thoughts which I shudder at. I 
 have a fearful heart that would dictate to the Creator 
 of the universe. Very much tormented by Satan, 
 who fills my tongue and imagination with curses and 
 blasphemies. May God for Jesus' sake, on whom I 
 would rely, disappoint him. 
 
 "Went to church, my thoughts wandering, and 
 very wicked thoughts rising up. Heard a discourse 
 from Ps. xix. Set my secret faults before my face. 
 Mr. Millar spoke well on presumptuous sin. Alas! 
 how many have I committed even since the Spirit 
 awakened me. It is of mercy I am not cast off. 
 Truly God is long-suffering. 
 
 "Prayer-meeting in the afternoon. Thoughts 
 away, but rather better staid than in the forenoon. 
 
 " Evening. Mr. Hill on Psalm xvii. The poor 
 commit their way to God. Very good discom^se. I 
 would commit my way, guilty, weak, and unworthy 
 as I am, to God through Jesus. O guide me, and 
 give me grace to support me under every trial. 
 Give me thy Spirit. Impart thy love, dear Lord 
 Jesus, to my heart. 
 
 "January 4th. When I awoke, my mind con- 
 
A Great Conflict. 53 
 
 fused, my imagination going after every evil. Tru- 
 ly the thoughts of the heart are only evil, and that 
 continually. My mind throughout the day was a 
 chaos of evil and good. How terribly fallen I am, 
 for my mind is enmity against God. Awful thoughts 
 were in my heart against Him. A great conflict 
 going on in my mind, and I am unable in myself to 
 submit my will to God. Oh that He would in mercy 
 give me a humble heart, to see and acknowledge 
 Him in all my ways, and to submit my will to his ! 
 I find it a very difficult matter to subdue self, my 
 mind even taking pleasure in confessions. Give me, 
 Lord, the heart to ascribe glory, honor, and praise 
 to Thee ; for I have a heart that would say or think 
 every evil. I would, guilty as I am, put my trust 
 in Jesus. May his love shine into my heart, that I 
 may be humbled and have true sorrow for sin. 
 
 " A few moments this evening of awful interest. 
 Satan or my own heart is always putting much to 
 my prayers, thus dictating to God. What a heart ! 
 how rebellious! Teach me humility, Lord. Give 
 me a meek and lowly heart. 
 
 "January 5th. Confused thoughts, wicked in the 
 extreme. Yet self-sufficiency. I cannot check my 
 wicked thoughts, and my heart is very unwilling to 
 acknowledge God. No human reason, no learning 
 on earth can give me peace. Alas, my wisdom is a 
 stumbling-block to me ; my thoughts are so wicked, 
 that at times they overwhelm me. Trying to trust 
 all in Jesus, but I see it must be a divine faith, for 
 
54 Sjfggestions of Satan. 
 
 a human faith can give no peace. Went to prayer- 
 meeting, but found no good; yet resolved to follow 
 on to know God. Lord, give me thy Holy Spirit 
 to reveal thy dear Son to my soul. Give me a hum- 
 ble, broken heart. 
 
 " ' O may tliy Spirit seal my soul, 
 And mould me to thy will, 
 That my weak heart no more may stray, 
 But keep thy precepts still. ' 
 
 " 30th. The worst day I have ever had with the 
 suggestions of Satan. Yet God has saved me. I 
 need to be humbled at the foot of the cross. I have 
 resolved in the strength of Jesus to be his. . . . 
 Eternal life is worth strugghng for. Lord, make 
 me thine; bend my proud heart by thy Holy Spirit. 
 
 "31st. Sabbath. Thoughts mixed — good and 
 evil. . . . Temptations and suggestions of Sa- 
 tan. Heard a sermon on the joys of heaven ; was 
 benefited, and quickened to go forward. Tempta- 
 tions are my grievous lot, but what are they all con- 
 pared with the joys laid up for those that are tried 
 and faithful? 
 
 "February 4th. Seeing more and more of my 
 heart every day. Oh that I had faith to lean on 
 Jesus. 
 
 " 7th. Went to church ; but oh, what corruption — 
 what sin ! How many idle thoughts. Nothing but 
 sin in my heart. Meditation on the Avords of Jesus, 
 'Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from 
 
Realities. 55 
 
 me.' This should strip us of all self-righteousness. O 
 Lord, give me a heart to love Thee above all earthly 
 things." 
 
 Thus far the journal of the conflict. During this 
 dreary period Duncan Matheson was learning the 
 most difficult of lessons — "the just shall live by 
 faith." Mark the goodness of God. He was re- 
 freshed at the well before he began to ascend the 
 Hill Difficulty. Ere he entered that dark Valley of 
 Humiliation and engaged in fierce conflict with 
 ApoUyon, he was girded with truth and clad in 
 mail. In his worst thnes he could remember the 
 Lord from " the land of Jordan and of the Hermon- 
 ites, from the hill Mizar ; " the memory of his three 
 happy, triumphant days, sustained him, and al- 
 though deep was calling unto deep, he could still 
 hope in God. Sometimes, indeed, the tried saint is 
 kept from utter apostasy and atheism by the memory 
 of a sweet experience on the Mount of Communion. 
 
 As yet it was only the dawn of grace. Night was 
 passing arid the day was coming in, though slowly 
 and with clouds. In rude but majestic outline, in- 
 visible things were coming to view. He sees God; 
 God is real. He is dealing with God, but God in his 
 holiness rather than God in his love. He sees Jesus ; 
 but it is not so much Jesus revealed in the glass of 
 the Word that he sees, as the image of Jesus faintly 
 reflected on the troubled waters of his own heart. 
 The Holy Ghost is real ; but he marks his own griev- 
 ing of the Spirit, rather than the Sphit's graciousness 
 
56 The School of Christ, 
 
 to him. Satan has become real, near, and terrible; 
 but he is not yet seen as vanquished in the cross. 
 Sin in its guilt and power is now to him a gigantic 
 Upas, on whose branch his harp is hanging, and 
 under whose shadow he seems doomed to sit, and 
 weep, and die. Mark how the valiant struggler 
 divides his charges between the devil and his own 
 heart, giving to each a fair portion of the blame. He 
 who knows sin knows also the devil ; fools, knowing 
 neither, make a mock of both. When a man is pass- 
 ing through this stage of religious experience, an 
 awful, eternal importance attaches to the minutest 
 element of his existence. He weighs his thoughts 
 in a balance. He measures his feelings, affections, 
 and motives by the broad standard of divine perfec- 
 tion. His words are not mere empty sounds, but 
 winged messengers going before to judgment ; and 
 all his steps leave their impress on conscience one 
 by one. 
 
 Those two years were spent on the hardest bench 
 in Christ's school. That lowly seat of spiritual dis- 
 cipline has been occupied in turns by all the most 
 distinguished servants of God. During the years 
 preceding his conversion, he had been taught the 
 mad and desperate opposition of the natural man to 
 the grace of God. Now he learned how the flesh 
 lusts against the Spirit ; how legalism counterworks 
 grace in the believer's heart ; how it fetters the liber 
 ty, mars the joy, hinders the progress, disfigures the 
 character, and lessens or even destroys the usefulness 
 
God's Schools. 57 
 
 of the Christian. To one who was to teach mnlti- 
 tudes the true way, all that painful experience was 
 of prime importance. His mistakes shonld save 
 many from similar errors ; his miseries should dimin- 
 ish the misery of others. Om* bitterest trials are our 
 best lessons. Joseph studied statesmanship in prison. 
 Moses found a Divinity Hall in the back side of the 
 desert. Forty years in the wilderness made Joshua 
 one of God's greatest soldiers, one of his bravest 
 heroes. Saul's persecution did more to make David 
 the king he was than Samuel's sacred oil. Elijah 
 learned the Gospel in its " still small voice " in a 
 cave. Jonah graduated in the whale's belly. Peter 
 got his best lesson in evangelistic theology when he 
 went out in the dark night to weep bitterly for his 
 great sin. Paul was not conferring with flesh and 
 blood during the time spent in Arabia. John Avent 
 to the highest class in Patmos. The long agony of 
 Luther has lessened the sorrows of millions. John 
 Bunyan called more pilgrims into the King's high- 
 way from his dungeon than ever he did from his 
 pulpit. And so of thousands more. 
 
 To the Christian and the preacher of Christ, a 
 thorough knowledge of sin is of the highest impor- 
 tance. This knowledge, bitter but Avholesome, Dun- 
 can Matheson was now learning. " I have found 
 original sin in the Bible," said a student to Haldane. 
 "Well," replied the latter: "but have you found it 
 in your own heart ? " Few know what it is to see 
 all the terrible hell of man's depraved nature. To be 
 
58 A Common Mistake. 
 
 let down into tliat abyss with the candle of the Lord 
 in your hand, to see its bottomless depths of pride 
 and passion, its tumultuous risings against law and 
 holiness, its desperate rage against God, its Satanic 
 challenges of the Divine Sovereignty, its insane athe- 
 isms, its blasphemous horrors, its cloud-covered de- 
 lusions, its ambushed hosts of armed iniquities, and 
 its infinite capability of engendering evils enough 
 to waste the fairest world of God, and people many 
 hells — ^to see all this and far more than words can 
 convey, is not merely to learn the doctrine^ but to 
 know tlie reality of sin ^ so that the sense and memory 
 of its nature, criminality, power, and destiny, are 
 branded as with a red-hot iron upon the soul for- 
 ever. This knowledge is beyond the ken of short- 
 sighted professors and stone-blind hypocrites. 
 
 When such an one, like Luther, goes about for 
 weary months or years bemoaning himself and cry- 
 ing piteously, "Oh, my sin! my sin I" shallow Chris- 
 tians and evil-doers ask, "What great crime has he 
 committed? Surely he is living in gross sin." All 
 the while the man is living a holy life, waging war 
 against the very thought and possibility of evil ; but 
 "a sword is in his bones," and his "soul dwells 
 among lions." 
 
 The young convert was pursuing holiness as a 
 
 ^an runs for his life, but he was partly in error. 
 
 'I can see," he says, "looking back on that period 
 
 of my history, where exactly I stood. I had begun 
 
 in the Sphit, and I wanted to be made perfect in 
 
A Scrjipiiloiis Conscience. 59 
 
 he flesh. My spirit was most legal ; I prayed con- 
 Knually, and if I lost a moment I tried to make it 
 up as a man pays a debt. I had a scrupulous 
 conscience, which brought me great torment. My 
 eyes were fixed withm myself, and my comfort was 
 drawn from my frames. The Spirit's work in me 
 was the ground of my peace and hope, rather than 
 the work of Christ in our room. I did not see Jesus 
 as my sanctification as well as my justification. I 
 did not then know the meaning of this word as de- 
 scribing the secret of progressive holiness: 'We all, 
 with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of 
 the 'Lord, are changed into the same image from 
 glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord.' Al- 
 though I drew comfort from the person and work 
 of Jesus, I did not live on Him. I was continually 
 analyzing my feelings, drawing comfort from what 
 I tliought was divine, and rejecting what was nat- 
 ural. Hence my hope rose and fell like a barom- 
 eter. I remember one day going out to the Castle 
 Park, expecting I should audibly hear a voice from 
 heaven assuring me that all my sins were forgiven. 
 When in this attitude, the word came with power 
 to my heart, 'Except ye see signs and wonders, 
 fe will not believe.' Indescribable pangs tore ray 
 ,ieart at that moment, and I almost felt I had rather 
 be lost than go on in the way of believing. Imme- 
 diately another passage of Scripture took forcible 
 hold of me : ' See that ye refuse not Him that speak- 
 eth: for if they escaped not who refused Him that 
 
6o Pa7'do7i and Holiness, 
 
 spake on earth, much more shall not we escape, 
 if we turn away from Him that speaketh from 
 heaven'" (Heb. xii. 25). 
 
 From Huntly he went to Edinburgh, and wan- 
 dered from church to church saying, "Saw ye Him 
 whom my soul loveth?" — "They have taken away 
 my Lord, and I know not where they have laid 
 Him." In vain his search. Back again to Huntly 
 he took his way for the purpose of celebrating the 
 Lord's Supper, and showing forth the death of Jesus; 
 but no relief came. "Never did criminal stand on 
 the scaffold with more rueful countenance," he says, 
 "than mine was as I sat at the Lord's table that day." 
 He trembled lest his "blood should be mingled with 
 his sacrifice." This "service was the service of the 
 slave, not of the free." By and by, however, he 
 came to know that justification realized is the great 
 vantage ground in striving after personal holiness, 
 and that a happy consciousness of acceptance in the 
 Beloved is the great incentive to true obedience. 
 He who joys in God his Saviour cannot fight against 
 his divine Friend. The blood of Jesus brings purity 
 in bringing peace. Grasping pardon you grasp ho- 
 liness. He who receives Jesus receives his Spirit. 
 Love springs from faith ; and he who realizes most 
 assuredly his standing in grace, walks most steadily 
 in fellowship, works most cheerfully in obedience, 
 and lives most freely in the liberties of holy joy. 
 This lesson ]\Iatheson now learned. The two years' 
 tempest shook the tree but did not uproot it. If the 
 
As stir mice. 6 1 
 
 storm damaged the brandies it strengthened the 
 roots. The young Christian unlearned frames and 
 learned faith. He learned to lean on the word of 
 God, the bare word, and nothing but the word. He 
 was taught to trust not in the Christ of his heart, 
 but Christ in the Word. He was taught to "be 
 strong" not in the grace in himself, but "in the 
 grace that is in Christ Jesus." At length realizing 
 that God was his salvation tln'ouadi his oneness with 
 Jesus he could say : 
 
 iD' 
 
 *'So nigh, so very nigh to God, 
 
 More near I cannot be; 
 For in the person of His Son 
 
 I am as near as He. 
 So dear, so very dear to God, 
 
 More dear I cannot be : 
 The love wherewith He loves His Son, 
 
 Such is His love to me." 
 
 Having been brought clearly to see the standing 
 of the believer in Christ, he quickly attained a well- 
 grounded assurance of salvation. He had given 
 diligence to make his calling and election sure ; but 
 he had sought assurance in vain because he had 
 sought it mainly by searching himself This price- 
 less jewel he found where all good is to be found, 
 at the foot of the cross. Henceforth, although he 
 did not cease to work out his own salvation with 
 fear and trembling, he could always say, " I know 
 whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He 
 is able to keep that which I have committed unto 
 
62 Gathering Precious Seed. 
 
 Him against that day." This happy confidence in . 
 the Lord fitted him for the work of an evangehst, 
 and sustained him amidst many labors and trials. 
 Tlie joy of the Lord was his strength, and true of 
 him were these lines : 
 
 " There are in this loud and stunning tide 
 Of human care and crime, 
 "With whom the melodies abide 
 
 Of the everlasting chime; 
 Who carry music in their heart 
 Through dusky lane and wrangling mart, 
 Plying their daily task with busier feet. 
 Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat." 
 
 During this period, in his insatiable hunger for 
 the truth, he read incessantly, and devoured large 
 and substantial meals of the good old Puritanic the- 
 ology. Owen, Baxter, Howe, and the other divines 
 of that age were his delight. Thus he laid in a 
 good store for days to come, and treasured much 
 precious seed to be afterwards scattered broadcast 
 over Scotland. In the course of his reading, he 
 stumbled on the writings of Huntington, and for a 
 season was led away into the dreary wilderness of 
 hyper-Calvinism, where some poor souls seem doomed 
 to wander all their days, perhaps as a punishment 
 for their hair-splitting or their spiritual pride. For 
 a time he was bound in the strait jacket of this form 
 of fatalism. He dared not speak to every one of the 
 love of God, lest he should give encouragement to 
 one who was not elect. After a while he discov- 
 
Good Results of the Conflict. 63 
 
 ered his error, and was led to see that to close the 
 door of the universal call of the Gospel is to close 
 the door of salvation against the elect themselves, 
 since the only warrant to believe is simply the gen- 
 eral invitations addressed to sinners of mankind. ^ 
 He noticed that these ultra-Calvinists are generally 
 unpractical, and much given to preaching in their 
 prayers. When one of this class was leading the 
 devotion by an elaborate theological discussion, some 
 one, as Matheson used to tell, probably enough 
 himself, touched the sleeve of the pious theorist, 
 saying, "Ask something from Him." With brusque, 
 quaint irony he was wont to say, "Ah! I see you 
 have taken the divine sovereignty under yom- spe- 
 cial patronage and care, but I have no time for 
 chopping logic with you; I want to win souls." 
 
 The insight he obtained into the subtle workings 
 of the human heart during his long conflict pre- 
 pared him for the work of an evangelist. He could 
 discover at a glance the whereabouts of an inquirer. 
 He was taught to distinguish between mere blind 
 alarm and genuine conviction. If the inquirer was 
 seeking more conviction, instead of seeking Christ, 
 he could point out the error in a word. Pride, 
 pretence, legalism, fear of man, and unbelief in 
 its varied forms, he could clearly expose, and so 
 remove stumbling-blocks out of the way. To the 
 despairing he could say, "I was once where you 
 are now;" and from his own experience he could 
 speak wisely and lovingly to those deeply afflicted 
 
64 Lessons Taught by the Holy Spirit. 
 
 ones who think they have sinned the unpardonable 
 sin. 
 
 During this period of discipHne he learned to pray 
 without ceasing. In company, on the street, in the 
 railway train, in the bustle of business, amidst the 
 solemn fervors of his preaching, and in the very 
 torrent of his own quaint, racy, picturesque talk in 
 social life — in short, everywhere and in all things, 
 his faith went up to heaven in quick, pointed, battle- 
 like cries. When others were preaching we have 
 often heard him praying thus, "Help, Lord, help! 
 Give the blessing, and save many ! " 
 
 Such, then, were some of the lessons taught him 
 by the Holy Spirit during those two hard and bitter 
 years. A thorough knowledge of sin, of the work- 
 ings of the human heart, and of the devices of the 
 devil ; a clear view of the ground of the believer's 
 standing before God, victory over his adversaries, 
 assurance of salvation, and the habit of praying al- 
 ways — these were precious fruits in his own expe- 
 rience and through his work as an evangelist seeds 
 of blessing to others, which he scattered far and 
 wide. 
 
Prcparatio7i for His Work. 65 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HIS EVANGELISTIC APPRENTICESHIP. 
 " Son, go work to-day in my vineyard."— Matt. xxi. 28. 
 
 "Why stand ye here all the day idle ? " This ques- 
 tion could not have been appropriately addressed to 
 Duncan Matheson at any period of his Christian life. 
 Immediately on his conversion he began to labor for 
 the salvation of souls. At first his light was small ; 
 but he kept trimming his lamp both for his own and 
 others' good, and the flame increased. Every efiort 
 of faith and sacrifice of love seemed to add live coals 
 to his altar of fire. For twenty years the flame of 
 zeal was never suffered to expire ; no, not for a single 
 day. Night and day, in season and out of season, 
 he strove with all his might to win souls. 
 
 His first attempt was at Burntisland, where the 
 minister of the Free Church kindly gave him the 
 use of the school, and otherwise encouraged him. 
 He began by wisely conjoining the temporal with 
 the spiritual, making the former subservient to the 
 latter. Having acquired proficiency in drawing, he 
 off'ered gratuitously to teach his fellow-workmen. 
 The class was opened and closed with prayer and 
 reading of the Word. His interest in the temporal 
 well-being of the workmen was genuine ; but he 
 cared chiefly for then* souls. While they were 
 learning to draw sketches, he was striving to save 
 5 
 
66 His Philanthropy, 
 
 sinners; while they studied architectural plans, he 
 was brooding over plans for their salvation. Here 
 he reaped one of the less pleasant fruits of doing 
 good. One of the class obtaining the use of Mathe- 
 son's drawing instruments, disappeared with the ill- 
 gotten spoil, and the benevolent teacher was left at 
 a great loss. He was vexed, but nothing daunted. 
 Throughout his life he invariably set himself to pro- 
 mote in every possible way the earthly welfare of 
 his fellow-men; and this he did not merely as a 
 means to the highest end, the saving of souls, but 
 becausp it was his duty and his joy. Frequently, 
 when he had spent all his earnings in charity, did 
 he go about and solicit aid for the poor. Sometimes 
 he was known to go amongst the neighbors and beg 
 a scuttleful of coals, carry them to the cheerless 
 home of the destitute sick, with his own hands 
 make a fire, and then prepare the " cup that cheers 
 but not inebriates," procured at the expense of his 
 own last shilling. Only after the poor, forlorn, bed- 
 ridden, solitary one was refreshed did he take his 
 Bible from his pocket to read, and pray, and speak 
 of Jesus and salvation. " I never believed," he says, 
 " in speaking sweet words and honeyed counsels to 
 starving people. If you want to do them good, go 
 to them with a loaf in one hand and the Bible in the 
 other. Actions speak louder than words." 
 
 About this time he succeeded in preventing a 
 strike. His sympathy with the men, liis manly 
 frankness, his judicious counsel and weight of char- 
 
His Call to Preach the Word. 6/ 
 
 acter, were, by the blessing of God sought for in 
 prayer, entirely successful. He felt he obtained his 
 reward in the evils thus averted and in the harmony 
 restored between masters and men. He found the 
 Gospel to be the true remedy of every woe. Jesus 
 is indeed Jehovah -rophi. 
 
 Eeturning to Huntly, he began with all his ener- 
 gy and enthusiasm to make known the Saviour he 
 had found. Every hour was spent in visiting the 
 sick and distributing tracts. His eiforts were not 
 confined to his native town. Everywhere in the 
 neighboring parishes he sought his way with more 
 or less success. Hitherto he had confined his evan- 
 gelistic services to prayer, reading the word and con- 
 versation ; but the time had arrived when he must 
 take a step in advance. One day Miss Macpherson, 
 a devoted Christian, who had been his friend, coun- 
 sellor, and good angel throughout the period of his 
 protracted spiritual conflict, requested him to ad- 
 dress a company of aged women whom she had 
 gathered together. IMatheson declined the invita- 
 tion. He "could not preach." Miss M. reasoned, 
 urged, and entreated ; but all in vain. Finally, de- 
 manding what he would answer at the great tribu- 
 nal for a neglected talent, she charged him not to 
 refuse lest souls should perish in consequence. This 
 was more than he could bear. He went to the 
 meeting, though with the greatest hesitancy and 
 fear. Opening the Bible at Isaiah xxxii. 11, "Trem- 
 ble, ye women that are at ease ; be troubled, ye care- 
 
6S Solemn Events. 
 
 less ones," he spoke with great freedom and power. 
 Both the text and matter of his address seemed to 
 be laid to his hand ; and such were the results that 
 he felt assured the Lord was calling him to this 
 work. The Christian lady, who by her wisdom and 
 faithfulness was instrumental in calling into exer- 
 cise a gift of inestimable value, little knew at that 
 time the greatness of the service she was rendering 
 to the Church and the world. 
 
 From this time onwards to the end of his days he 
 found at once his greatest labor and his chief joy in 
 preaching Christ. In a short space of time he estab- 
 lished a great many cottage meetings, which he Car- 
 ried on with uncommon vigor and success. Solemn 
 events occurred. One night our evangelist ad- 
 dressed a meeting on the parable of the ten vir- 
 gins. A woman deeply impressed, went home, and 
 S]3ent a night of sleepless anxiety. Early in the 
 morning she called her neighbor to go and fetch 
 Duncan Matheson. As the messenger left the house 
 a great crash was heard: the anxious inquirer had 
 dropped dead. " While they went to buy, the Bride- 
 groom came." 
 
 A man, in whose house Matheson held a meeting, 
 taking offence at the word, informed the evangelist 
 that the next meeting would be the last under his 
 roof The "young servant of Christ was deeply 
 grieved, and prayed much for an appropriate sub- 
 ject of final address. One text took hold of his mind, 
 and he could not get rid of it. Accordingly he 
 
Employed by the Duchess of Gordon. 6g 
 
 preaclied on tlie solemn and touching words of the 
 Lord Jesus: "If thou hadst known, even thou, at 
 least in this thy day, the things which belong unto 
 thy peace? but now they are hid from thine eyes." 
 At the close the evangelist shook hands with the 
 master of the house, and said, " Prepare to meet thy 
 God." The ark of the Lord was thrust out, and the 
 ark-bearer with it. Next day the man, when drink- 
 ing with his companions in the public-house, sudden- 
 ly fell dead. These providential visitations served 
 to deepen the impression made by the word. Great 
 power accompanied the preaching, the people were 
 seen running home from the place of meeting in a 
 state of great alarm. 
 
 The Duchess of Gordon, hearing of young Mathe- 
 son's zealous and successful labors, sent for him and 
 offered to employ him as missionary at a salary of 
 forty pounds a year. Hitherto he had maintained 
 himself; but his means were now exhausted. His 
 worldly prospects were indeed bright. His skill as 
 a builder, his energy, enterprising spirit, business 
 talents, and moral integrity, held out the promise of 
 position and wealth ; but he cheerfully turned his 
 back on honor and gain, and betook himself amidst 
 opposition and scorn to build the walls of Jerusalem. 
 Being now fully possessed by the great passion of 
 his life, the saving of souls, worldly considerations 
 were with him of small account. The offer of the 
 Duchess was accepted. He went to work with all 
 his might. Although he never received more than 
 
^o Visiting Aged Christians. 
 
 the small salary named he spent a large proportion 
 of it in the purchase of tracts, and in the relief of the 
 poor; and this noble and generous practice he fol- 
 lowed whilst he lived. 
 
 His strength was great, and he often worked six- 
 teen hours a day. Sinners were converted, and he 
 was filled with joy. Often, however, no success at- 
 tended his labors ; but although cast down and led 
 to humble himself at the sight of souls perishing in 
 their wilful rejection of Christ, he learned many a 
 useful lesson. Some men, he observed, concealed a 
 hard heart beneath " a thick coat of evangelical var- 
 nish." They assented to all he said, but repented 
 not. He watched them at the last hour of life, and 
 saw them die without giving one sign of grace. 
 There were no bands in their death ; their strength 
 was firm. He concluded that there is no more dan- 
 gerous delusion than the confidence begotten by a 
 mere "head knowledge," or intellectual faith. 
 
 He frequently visited the old Christians who had 
 been disciples of Mr. Cowie, and in his intercourse 
 with them learned several useful lessons. One of 
 these pilgrims was Isobel Chrystie, then upwards of 
 ninety years of age. "Come awa, my son David," 
 said Isobel to the missionary one day as he entered 
 her humble cot. "Perhaps," was his reply, "the 
 hands are the liands of Esau, but the voice is Ja- 
 cob's. How do you know that I am not a hypo- 
 crite?" "Ah," said she, "d'ye think I dinna ken 
 the breath o' a true Christian?" The Kose of Sharon 
 
Dying Saints. 7 1 
 
 may lie hid in the beKever's bosom, but its fragrance 
 cannot be concealed from others. "We ocht to lay 
 down our lives for the brithren ; an' hoo could we 
 dee for them if we dinna ken them ? " So thought 
 Isobel Chrystie. When in the course of conversa- 
 tion allusion was made to the salvation of the dy- 
 ing thief, she rattled her little staff on the floor and 
 said, "That was a ^^j trophy to gang throw the 
 gowden gates o' heaven. I'm thinkin' there was a 
 ^Qj steer amo' the angels ; but nane o' them would 
 try to pit him oot. Na, na; Christ brocht him ben." 
 When Isobel lay dying she was unable to recog- 
 nize minister, missionary, friend, or neighbor. To 
 each inquiry she still replied, "I dinna ken you." 
 At last the question was put to her, "Isobel, d'ye 
 ken Christ?" The countenance of the dying saint 
 brightened at the sound of her Saviour's name. 
 Looking up with a smile she promptly replied, 
 "That I do, but nae sae muckle as I would like, 
 and will do by an' by." That night the aged be- 
 liever went to be with Him whom she remem- 
 bered and knew when all others were forgotten 
 and unknown. 
 
 A dying saint of the same generation gave him 
 this pithy advice: "Hand in wi' Christ; whatever 
 happens, aye think weel o' God; and tak' care o' 
 yersel'; for, ye ken, a breath dims a polished shaft." 
 
 Another Christian, ere passing away, charged 
 him to warn the behevers against "razing the foun- 
 dations." "I often did it," she said; "I rashly de- 
 
^2 Experience in Gospel Work. 
 
 nied tlie Spirit's work in my soul, and I have paid 
 dearly for it." This she said in reference to the 
 excessive and morbid retrospection in which some 
 ,' Christians indulge, to the hurt of their souls and the 
 ' discredit of the Gospel. They pull up faith by the 
 roots to see if it is growing. They pluck out their 
 eyes to see if those eyes are genuine. Peace and joy 
 depart from them. Dark suspicions of God, as if He 
 watched for their halting, overshadow their hearts, 
 and they are plunged into misery. Growth in grace 
 becomes impossible; for, as one has said, "kindly 
 thoughts of God lie at the root of sanctifi cation." 
 Self-examination is important; but surely not less 
 important is faith. Looking into the heart and look- 
 ing out to Christ should go together. The pilot at 
 once keeps his eye upon the compass and his hand 
 upon the helm: if he neglected either he would 
 speedily lose his course. "Keeping the heart" must 
 be coupled with "holding the Head." "Examine 
 thyself" should never be separated from "looking 
 unto Jesus." The best way of testing the pitcher 
 of our faith is by dipping it often in the Well of 
 Life and drawing its fill for constant use. 
 
 In the journal of his missionary labors he kept a 
 minutely detailed account of every visit and con- 
 versation, and his impressions of the people. This 
 record, large enough to fill a volume, was written 
 with perfect accuracy and fastidious care, and serves 
 to illustrate the thoroughness that always character- 
 ized the man and his work. Plainly too it appears 
 
Two Classes. 73 
 
 from this diary that in simphcity and godly sincer- 
 ity did he bring before every man, woman, and child, 
 the things of their peace. As usnal, he found two 
 classes, viz., the few that are open to conviction, 
 and the many that entrench themselves behind their 
 own righteousness. One refuses to make any sign 
 in regard to personal religion, and he is silenced by 
 silence. The candle will not burn for want of air. 
 Another agrees with every thing the missionary 
 says, and in that panoply of perfect formalism no 
 joint is found. The candle burns, but it is in the 
 presence of the dead. A third " will not speak of 
 his religion to any man, because it is a matter be- 
 tween himself and God ; " to which the missionary 
 bluntly replies that if he htid true religion it would 
 make him speak, for he would seek communion 
 with men of like mind, and out of the abundance 
 of the heart the mouth speaketh. Some men con- 
 ceal their rehgion as they would a scab. Eloquent 
 about the merest trifle, they have nothing to say 
 for Christ. These are the devil's dummies. Anoth- 
 er, a middle-aged matron, receives him kindly, but 
 is at first shy and reserved. His quaint, ingenuous, 
 spirit-stirring talk quickly unlocks the good wom- 
 an's heart, and she begins to tell him that she "fears 
 she is mair o' a hypocrite than a Christian, for she 
 canna see hoo a child o' God could hae sae muckle 
 indwallin' sin as she has: but still she daurna deny 
 that she canna do without prayer, that she has a ^(sj 
 likin' to God's Word, an a warm hert to God's chil- 
 
74 III Labors Abundant. 
 
 di-en, and a terrible fear o' sin, though she is some- 
 hoo aye sinnin' an' sinnin' for a' that." The mission- 
 ary takes up the case, and by the help of his own 
 experience so sets forth the truth of the Gospel, that 
 the inquirer enters into light, freedom and joy : and 
 ever afterwards he is to her as an angel of God, and 
 she is to him a ''daughter of the King." 
 
 Sometimes he held as many as seventy prayer- 
 meetings in three months. In his reports he com- 
 plains of scanty fruit in the fewness of conversions. 
 At one time he feels nothing but " formalism " and 
 "leanness of soul" in discussing solemn truths. 
 Again, he goes to the meeting in great fear, and 
 finds the stone rolled away from the mouth of the 
 sepulchre; instead of "darkness, guilt, confasion 
 arising from self-sufficiency," he enjoys enlargement 
 and blessing. " I have seen impressions made, yet 
 soon after I have seen the last trace of them effaced. 
 I have been helped to set a gracious soul a step up 
 the ladder, yet on going back I have found them ten 
 steps down. What I have longed, and prayed, and 
 sought for has been conversion unto God, and any 
 hope or comfort I have had in seeking this has arisen 
 from this very truth, that He works as seemeth good 
 in his sight, and calleth whom He will." 
 
 Not satisfied with the efforts of his voice, he de- 
 vised means for the circulation of tracts on the 
 widest scale. Means failing him, for he had spent 
 his last penny in the work, he began to cry to God for 
 aid. One night in prayer, the thought came into his 
 
Praying for a Printing- Press. 75 
 
 mind, " If I could get a printing-press I could make 
 as many tracts as I could use." On this he began to 
 pray for a printing-press, and for several months 
 continued to supplicate this gift from his God. The 
 prayer was unexpectedly answered. Accidentally 
 discovering that an old printing-press was for sale, 
 he made inquiries as to the terms, although he did 
 not possess the means of purchase. Much to his 
 astonishment, the person whose property it was let 
 him have it, with a set of old worn types, at a merely 
 nominal price. Never did warrior bear away the 
 trophies of victory with deeper joy than he felt in 
 carrying the old printing machinery to his father's 
 house. On reaching home, he wrote upon it, 
 
 FOR GOD AND ETERNITY; 
 
 and then, hastening to his closet, "fell upon his 
 knees, and asked the needed skill to work it." Noth- 
 ing daunted by his ignorance of printing, he set him- 
 self to learn " the divine art," his only instructors the 
 two great teachers of all heroic souls and successful 
 workers, to wit, Failure and Perseverance. Appren- 
 tice and master, printer and publisher, missionary 
 and philanthropist, all in one, he ascended by the 
 slow and painful steps of experience struck out of 
 repeated failure, like fire flashing from the smitten 
 eye of Mitijw^^lio runneth in the dark, till at length 
 he reached the summit of his fondest wish, and un- 
 aided could send forth thousands of tracts like leaves 
 from the tree of life. 
 
76 First Attempts at Printing. 
 
 His first attempts at printing ended in failure and 
 chagrin. Whole nights were spent in ineffectual 
 efforts; but never despairing, he cried to God for 
 help, and went to work again. Often for hours the 
 work of "composing" goes on, till at length his eye 
 rests with complacence on a page of type, when sud- 
 denly the whole falls down into what printers call 
 "pi," and his mortification is complete. Falling 
 again upon his knees, he prays for patience and 
 help. The sight of his own inscription, " For God 
 and Eternity," inspires him with fresh zeal, and 
 although oftentimes "the lumbering press goes all 
 wrong," he perseveres till at length success comes 
 to him, as Jesus came to the disciples upon the sea 
 at the latest watch of the night. " I went on," he 
 says, " till I managed to print two thousand four- 
 page tracts a day. How I did toil, and sweat, and 
 pray at it ! Some nights I never slept at all, but 
 went on composing. My constitution was strong, 
 and night after night was spent at the work." 
 
 The tracts brought him no money, and his own 
 slender means were speedily exhausted. His benev- 
 olent labors excited little sympathy in his native 
 town ; the only contribution to his tract enterprise he 
 ever received in Huntly was half-a-crown, brought 
 him by a poor widow. Falling short of paper and 
 money, what was he to do ? Give up the unprofit- 
 able business, and leave an ungrateful people to 
 themselves? Never. Not in that way are souls 
 won for Christ, and the glory of God advanced. 
 
Original Tracts, 77 
 
 Again he betook himself to prayer, and the same 
 gracious Master who provided the printing-press 
 provided the paper also. Certain Christians in Lin- 
 colnshire, whom he had never seen, fell in with one 
 of his tracts, and pleased with its spirit and contents 
 wrote for a supply. He could not supply them for 
 want of paper. This led to further correspondence, 
 and the supply of means to procure paper from time 
 to time. 
 
 One tract, entitled "The Lord's Supper Profaned," 
 called forth not a little opposition. After printing it, 
 he went round and with his own hand left a copy in 
 every house in his native town. For the professors 
 who have but a name to live it was too searching; 
 hence it gave deadly offence. It was blessed of God, 
 however, in the conversion of several persons, and is 
 still in circulation in the Stirling Series of tracts. 
 Mr. Drummond, Avho has done so noble a work of 
 the same kind, reissued the faithful tract, and sev- 
 eral others also of Mr. Matheson's. Another tract, 
 entitled "The Origin of the Chinese Bible Fund," 
 intended to further the circulation of the Scriptures 
 in China, found its way into the Koyal Palace, and 
 thus afforded an illustration of Solomon's saying. 
 "Seest thou a man diligent in his business? he shall 
 stand before kings ; he shall not stand before mean 
 men." 
 
 In addition to original matter, our evangelist took 
 extracts from Boston, Edwards, Flavel, and other 
 favorite authors, and went on printing, till at length 
 
78 A Hundred TJiousand Messengers. 
 
 in an incredibly short space of time he had by his 
 own unaided efforts thrown off and put into circu- 
 lation a hundred thousand little Gospel messengers, 
 the voice of whose quiet but powerful testimony 
 cannot have been m vain. He was now sowing 
 what many years afterwards he was destined to 
 reap. 
 
 That young man, with his immense capacities for 
 earthly promotion and enjoyment, turning his back 
 on all the ambitions and pleasures of the world, 
 and after a long day of sorest toil, spending the 
 silent watches of night in so great a labor of disin- 
 terested love, was surely a pleasing sight to the 
 angels of God. Toil, privation, ingratitude, oppo- 
 sition, scorn, disappointment and failure, neither 
 weakened his hands nor discouraged his heart. 
 He endured as seeing Him who is invisible; and 
 bravely did he march forward in his lofty mission 
 of self-sacrificing love to souls, ever affording prac- 
 tical illustration of his own motto, " For God and 
 Eternity." 
 
 Feeling that his work would soon be done in Hunt- 
 ly, he labored night and day to win souls ; and ere he 
 left his native place for other fields, he could say in 
 truth he had warned every sinner and testified the 
 grace of God to every soul. Of all the rare privileges 
 enjoyed by Huntly during a day of merciful visita- 
 tion extending over the last thirty years, not the 
 least has been the faithful testimony and apostolic 
 labors of her own brave and much-enduring son 
 
Desires to go to China. 79 
 
 Duncan Matlieson, whose name will be an honor 
 to his native town whilst Christianity lives within 
 her borders, and whose example of untiring energy, 
 heroic perseverance, and Christ-like love of souls will 
 stir the hearts of the ingenuous youth in future gen- 
 erations, and kindle noble aspu*ations in the bosoms 
 of many yet unborn. 
 
 At this time the perishing millions of China lay 
 heavy on his heart, and he longed to go forth and 
 preach the Gospel in the land of Sinim. ]\Iuch did 
 he "sigh and cry" about the heathen, and often did 
 he say in his inmost heart, "Lord, here am I; send 
 me." During the last months he spent in Huntly, 
 as he went from house to house pleading with men 
 to receive Christ, the words of Heber's hymn were 
 constantly sounding in his ear : 
 
 " Shall we, whose souls are lighted 
 
 With wisdom from on high, 
 Shall we to men benighted 
 
 The lamp of life deny ? 
 Salvation, salvation, 
 
 The glorious sound proclaim, 
 Till earth's remotest nation 
 
 Hath learnt Messiah's name." 
 
8o Prepared for His Work. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 HIS MISSION TO THE CRIMEA. 
 
 " Also I heard tlie voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will 
 go for us? Then said I, Here am I : send me."— Isa. vi. 8. 
 
 His evangelistic apprenticeship was now at a close. 
 He had obtained "a good degree, and great boldness 
 in the faith which is in Christ Jesus." Even if he 
 had accomplished little he had learned much. By 
 constant and prayerful study of the Scriptures and 
 the best divines, he had greatly increased his intel- 
 lectual and spiritual stores. His mind was braced 
 by severe discipline, his judgment matured by deep 
 reflection, and his gift of utterance developed by ex- 
 ercise. His knowledge of the truth kept pace with, 
 his growing insight into human nature ; and the fre- 
 quent rebuffs he met taught him to add tact to 
 straightforwardness in dealing with men. His faith, 
 like his person, was sturdy, stalwart, and full of ro- 
 bust health ; his assurance was as clear and calm as 
 a summer morning ; and his consecration to God was 
 entire. In his consuming zeal for the salvation of 
 men he was willing to go anywhere or do any thing 
 at the Master's call. Born a soldier, every inch of 
 him a man of war, he was not the less fitted for camps 
 and the rougher scenes of life, now that he stood clad 
 in the whole armor of God, "a good soldier of Jesus 
 Christ." The man of prayers and tears, and love to 
 
Eastward. 8 1 
 
 souls, had his humble part to play in the gathering 
 of the armies of the nations ; and though that part 
 nobly performed finds no place in the annals of the 
 Crimean struggle, the record of the missionary's cam- 
 paign is on high, and its results, when disclosed in 
 the last great assembly of the human race, will doubt- 
 less receive a nobler reward than the perishing lau- 
 rels of earthly fame. 
 
 Our evangelist happening to witness the departure 
 of soldiers for the Crimea in 1854 was deeply moved 
 by the sad farewells. This changed the current of 
 his thoughts and sympathies ; and although he did 
 not cease to pray for the perishing millions of China, 
 his heart went with the soldiers, and he began to 
 lay the matter before the Lord. The more he thought 
 of the peculiar circumstances of a soldier's life, its 
 hardships, its snares, its constant risk and peril, its 
 need of counsel and of the cross, the more he prayed 
 and longed to go as a herald of mercy to the camp, 
 the field, and the hospital, in the distant East, to 
 share his joy with the weary, the wounded and the 
 dying. How this could be brought about he had no 
 idea. His desire was known only to God; but he 
 believed in the Hearer of prayer, and continued to 
 wait at the throne of grace. 
 
 The call for which he was praying came from an 
 unexpected quarter, and it came stamped with the 
 broad seal of a special providence. It happened in 
 this way. One day he received a letter, which in 
 substance ran thus: "If you are still in the mind to 
 6 
 
82 A Special Providence. 
 
 go to the East, reply by return of post, and please 
 say when you could start." The letter was from the 
 Kev. J. Bonar, convener of the Colonial Committee of 
 the Free Church — a gentleman whom Duncan Math- 
 eson had never seen, and did not know. Surely he 
 thought as he read Mr. Bonar's note, there is some 
 mistake here. Yet he felt as if the hand and voice 
 of God were in it, calling him to the scene of con- 
 flict. He went and told the Duchess, saying that 
 there was clearly a mistake, but that he was will- 
 ing to go. '' How strange ! " exclaimed her Grace ; 
 " I have been praying that God would incline you 
 to go, and others have been praying also. If there 
 is a mistake, I will send you myself" He wrote to 
 Mr. Bonar, and ascertained that the letter was in- 
 tended for another of the same name, a Gaelic-speak- 
 ing licentiate of the Free Church, who had been 
 employed for some time among the navvies. The 
 Countess of Effingham desirous of sending a mission- 
 ary to the Highland Brigade, had requested Mr. 
 Bonar to find a suitable agent for the work. Mr. 
 Bonar wrote to the Eev. D. Matheson ; but the let- 
 ter going astray, a clerk in the post-office had writ- 
 ten on it, "Try Huntly," and so it came into the 
 hands of the wrong D. Matheson, according to the 
 proposing of man, but the right D. Matheson, ac- 
 cording to the disposing of God. Mr. Bonar, glad 
 to find a fit man ready to undertake so arduous a mis- 
 sion, requested him to come up to Edinburgh and 
 arrange for taking his departure for the East, in 
 
 1 
 
At Beckeitham. 83 
 
 connection with the British and Foreign Soldier's 
 Friend Society. He whose "kingdom ruleth over 
 all," and who "holdeth the seven stars in His right 
 hand," overruled the mistake of the post-office for 
 the accomplishment of a great purpose. 
 
 With characteristic decision he went up to Edin- 
 burgh the day after he received Mr. Bonar's letter, 
 and without an hour's delay, entered into engage- 
 ments with the Society to go to the East as a Scrip- 
 ture-reader. At the same time he received a com- 
 mission from the Free Church Colonial Committee, 
 and a recommendation " to their brethren at Con- 
 stantinople or other places where Providence may 
 cast his lot." 
 
 The following scrap was found in his room after 
 his departure; "I surrender father, sister, brothers, 
 myself — all, all that concerns me, into thy hands, 
 my God. For the past, I bless Thee. For the 
 present, I praise Thee. For the future, I trust Thee. 
 My feet shall stand within thy gates, Jerusalem. 
 Nights end. Partings close. I am thine, Lord, 
 wholly thine. — Nov. 8th, 1854." This was counting 
 the cost. 
 
 At the quiet rectory at Beckenham, a green spot 
 to him ever after, he was received with unbounded 
 kindness ; and the parting blessing of the venerable 
 servant of Christ, Dr. Marsh, was fresh on his heart 
 to his dying day. In contrast to this was the dis- 
 couraging language of certain ministers of the Gos- 
 pel, who, meeting him at another stage of his jour- 
 
84 Longing for His Work. 
 
 ney, warned him against speaking to the soldiers 
 abont conversion. " You will be expelled from the 
 camp, if you do," said they. He replied, that he 
 Avas going to the Crimea for the very purpose of 
 telling the unconverted soldiers that they needed 
 to be born again, and by the grace of God he would 
 do it, be the consequences what they might. In 
 this way he experienced light and shade. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 " London, 11th Nov., 1854. 
 " I have met with kindness such as I never felt 
 on earth, and have met with some of the Lord's 
 dear family in the highest ranks of life. Surely 
 goodness and mercy follow me. I feel it — I know 
 it. My heart is stayed on the Lord; it is truly 
 humbling and cheering. Letters come daily from 
 persons I have never seen. My destination is in 
 the meantime Scutari. My whole energies will be 
 
 devoted to my dear countrymen I long 
 
 to get to my work. I feel no shrinking. I commit 
 my way to the Lord. I go his errand. I seek his 
 glory; it is enough. Do seek to rejoice that He 
 counts me worthy to go. I am calmly resting on 
 his arm. 1 feel no fears. Truly I am not alone. 
 He bears me up. Clouds, trials, darkness may 
 come ; yet all works for good. Dear father and sis- 
 ter, be of good courage, for I am forever the Lord's." 
 
 "London, 15th Nov., 1854 
 " I long for my work. I see the need great and 
 
On the Way. 85 
 
 pressing. I seek no rest till I get it on high. I 
 know to his own God will be a Shepherd, gently 
 leading and guiding them. Never did I feel so 
 much as now the power, the deep sustaining power 
 of grace. Ah, dear sister, it is sweet to be passive 
 in the Lord's hand; to know his grace, to enjoy his 
 smile. I offer myself to the Lord. I may meet 
 rough tossing, billows heaving, seas swelling; yet 
 the throne, the crown, the kingdom on high — that 
 is our goal — that is enough for me." 
 
 " Off Cape St. Vincent, 22d Nov., 1854. 
 
 " My Dear, Dear Jessie. — How I shall write you 
 just now I know not, the motion of the steamer is 
 so great. Still I am anxious to send you a few 
 lines as we expect to be in Gibraltar to-morrow. 
 
 . . . . It seems as if the Lord were giving 
 me such displays of His goodness as to compel me 
 to say, ' This God is my God forever and ever ; He 
 will be my guide even unto death.' On getting 
 aboard the steamer, I saw my luggage safely put 
 away, and was then conducted to my berth by the 
 steward. I knelt down in it, and committed my- 
 self, you, father, friends, and all on board to the 
 Lord. Felt deeply and calmly reposed. And here 
 I mark his hand — I got a cabin to myself, whilst 
 the other passengers were placed two and two to- 
 gether. The scene as we steamed down the Mer- 
 sey was truly exciting to most; to me it was not. 
 My thoughts were on my work, home, the need of 
 
86 A Sabbath Afloat. 
 
 close walking with God; all these pressed on me. 
 I walked the deck alone, yet not alone. I write a 
 note to yon. The pilot left us. The wind fresh- 
 ened and we sped onward. Night settled on us, 
 and still I was on deck. Oh, it was strange, pass- 
 ing strange to me ; and most of all to watch the 
 phosphorous light dancing on the crest of every 
 wave far behind. I went below as night stole on, 
 and committing all to the Lord, fell calmly asleep. 
 
 '^ Sabbath morning dawned, and with it a raging 
 sea, rolling mountains high ; each wave as it broke 
 on the vessel's side made her quiver from one end to 
 the other ; but the wind was favorable and on we 
 sped. I felt that there was no Sabbath on board. 
 All was bustle and confusion. The light-hearted 
 gaiety of souls without God. I had tracts and Bibles 
 with me; these I went and gave the poor sailors, 
 who had none. Never did 1 see such gratitude ex- 
 pressed; it saddened my inmost heart. Once and 
 again I have asked to be the means of saving souls 
 in this vessel, and it may be the Lord's will to do 
 it. How solemn a matter to be saved ! How deeply 
 momentous the issues that hang on not being saved. 
 Not saved, though the Bible is read, the Spirit strives, 
 sermons are preached, providences are sent — solemn 
 thought ! Shutting myself in my cabin, I hope I 
 had something of the real Sabbath-keeping spirit. 
 Yea, I dare not question it, for I felt borne up and 
 calmly stayed upon the Lord. 
 
 "We had one fearful day going through the Bay 
 
''His Ways are in the Sea^ 87 
 
 of Biscay. Most of the passengers were sick. I felt 
 rather qiiahnish; but kept on deck, for 1 was anx- 
 ious to see the ocean in all its fury — and certainly 
 the Bay of Biscay is the place to see this. Now and 
 then as a wave broke on the vessel, the noise resem- 
 bled thunder, but I felt no fear ; for ' He holdeth the 
 sea in the hollow of his hand,' ' His ways are in the 
 sea ' was forcibly opened up to me. Who would look 
 for a path in the sea ? And yet so strange are his 
 dealings (and to me they have been so) as to look 
 like the opening of a way m the sea. 
 
 " My one grand desire is to go and tell of Clmst 
 and Him crucified, looking for the descent of the 
 Holy Ghost to own the word for the conversion of 
 souls. I am compassed about with a great cloud 
 of witnesses. The eye of Israel's Shepherd is upon 
 me. Months, years, glide on; eternity seems at 
 hand. For a while, earth has been losing much of 
 its attractions for me; and heaven with its un- 
 dimmed purity, its endless pleasures, its streams 
 of bliss, its unAvithering crown, and its blessed God, 
 grows sweeter and sweeter." 
 
 At Constantinople he was received with much 
 kindness by Messrs. Thomson, Turner, and McKutch- 
 eon, of the Free Church IMission to the Jews. Bitter 
 was his disappointment on finding that military law 
 strictly forbade his going to the Crimea, and it only 
 remained for him to retiu*n home, as other missionary 
 agents had done. That night was spent in prayer; 
 
88 The Crimea in Sight. 
 
 towards dawn, as he tells, he felt in his heart as if 
 God had heard his cry, and would open up his way. 
 Next day accompanied by Mr. (now Dr.) Thomson, 
 he applied to Admiral Boxer for permission to go to 
 the scene of strife ; and contrary to all expectation 
 that officer at once granted him his request. Great 
 was his joy and gratitude, and cordially did he praise 
 God for "having touched the Admiral's heart." 
 
 Losing no time, he embarked on board a transport 
 conveying soldiers, and quickly found himself steam- 
 ing up the Bosphorus, and entering the Black sea. 
 By order of the Admhal, he was entitled to share 
 cabin accommodation with two chaplains ; but when 
 night came these gentlemen, forgetting the law of 
 love, thrust him out. A kind-hearted engineer gave 
 him his berth in the forecastle, but he could not 
 sleep. The condu*ct of the soldiers and sailors was 
 more than he could endure; it was like "hell let 
 loose," and he was glad to escape on deck, where 
 under the starry vault of heaven he spent the night, 
 thinking of heaven and home, praying for needed 
 grace, and feeling assured that the unslumbering 
 eye of Israel's Shepherd would watch over him, 
 and all would be well. At break of day on 5th De- 
 cember they sighted the Crimea, and when they 
 reached Balaklava, the troops were ordered on shore 
 at once, as an attack was expected from the army 
 ofLiprandi. "All was mirth and excitement. We 
 could distinctly hear the booming of the cannon, 
 not in mere holiday salute, but in deadly earnest. 
 
The State of the Army. 89 
 
 Wliat a tide of feeling rushed through my mind, as 
 I thought of mothers weeping for their sons, wives 
 for their husbands, and sisters for their brothers, 
 whom they should see no more, and of the brave 
 men fallen in battle, their bodies buried in the com- 
 mon pit near the field of strife, and their spirits pass- 
 ing from the roar of battle into the immediate pres- 
 ence of God. Turning to my text for the day, I 
 was cheered when 1 found it was, ' The Lord pre- 
 serveth those that love Him.' I felt I was nerved 
 for whatever might befall me ; and stranger though 
 I was — knowing no one, as a messenger of peace, 
 with a lion heart I stepped on Crimean soul. 
 
 "Alma had been fought, and Inkermann won. 
 The thin red line had been formed on the plains of 
 Balaklava, and the grand death-charge had been 
 made. But the very elements had risen in arms 
 against us. It would be impossible to describe the 
 state of the army at this time. The hospitals were 
 crowded; many were dying. Day after day, ship 
 after ship with its load of suffering was despatched 
 to Scutari. Many of those you met were in rags. 
 ]\Iost were emaciated and smitten witli hungrer. 
 Some were almost shoeless ; many had biscuit-bags 
 instead of trousers, whilst others had newspapers 
 tied round their legs ; and often such was the wretch- 
 edness that you could not distinguish officer from 
 man, or recognize the best known." 
 
 Matheson, with characteristic generosity, imme- 
 diately gave away all the clothes he could spare, 
 
90 Preaching to Sick Soldiers. 
 
 and then began to distribute his spiritual stores in 
 the shape of tracts and Bibles, of which latter there 
 was a great scarcity in the camp. The books and 
 especially the Bibles were received with tlie great- 
 est eagerness, and read with wonderful earnestness. 
 Some 25,000 tracts, selected by the Tract Society, 
 by Mr. Drummond, of Stirling, and by Miss Marsh, 
 were quickly put into circulation. 
 
 "January 25th, 1855. How shall I describe the 
 scenes I hom-ly see. I shrink from it ; they are truly 
 appalling. The condition of our army is sad. Yes- 
 terday 600 were brought sick from Sebastopol, and 
 conveyed on board ship. I took my stand in the 
 midst of them, and spoke to them of the only all- 
 sufficient Saviour. IMany listened with interest, and 
 at last the gushing tears told a way had been found 
 to the heart. My heart was like to break. Oh, I 
 have often felt since coming here that the one thing 
 needed is the Holy Ghost. All looked haggard and 
 worn. Death is thought nothing of I had a long 
 conversation with an officer yesterday. He speaks 
 of the demoralization of the army as truly awful, 
 and says swearing and ungodliness are increasing. 
 Since I came here I have not gone ten paces with- 
 out hearing profane swearing. And yet there are 
 hopeful appearances. . . . The taking of Sebas- 
 topol is no easy task. There seems as yet no recog- 
 nition of the Lord's giving the victory. The men 
 are greatly dispirited; yet, strange to say, long for 
 nothing so much as a battle. I can, and do at this 
 
Hector Macpherson. 91 
 
 moment, hear the roll of the cannon. At every 
 shot my heart leaps, for usually some one is hurried 
 into eternity. happy peoj)le whose God is the 
 Lord. Truly I feel it, and can really say thoughts 
 of heaven are growing sweeter and sweeter every 
 hour. I long for rest, yet am resigned to his will. 
 O how fondly my affections twine around home and 
 friends ! Huntly ! I cannot, I will not forget it. I 
 see other scenes; I possess other friends; but the 
 dear saints in Huntly and in Scotland have the 
 largest place. ... I feel there is nothing I 
 more need than the prayers of all who love the 
 Lord. I cannot tell what I may have to undergo. 
 All is in the Lord's hands. I need a close, calm, and 
 holy walk with him. One needs to be always ready 
 here, for it is a death-stricken scene. My comfoi-t in 
 my work is, ' He shall see of the travail of his soul, 
 and shall be satisfied.' Come, Lord Jesus : come 
 quickly. Amen." 
 
 Mr. Matheson was not slow in seeking out men 
 of his own spirit in the army. His first acquaint- 
 ance was Hector Macpherson, drum-major, Ninety- 
 third Highlanders, a soldier both of his country and 
 of the cross, of whom our missionary used to tell the 
 following story : One day a chaplain, newly arrived, 
 called on the sergeant, and asked his advice as to 
 the best method of conducting his work. "Come 
 with me," said Hector, "to the hill-top. Now, look 
 around you. See yonder the pickets of Liprandi's 
 army. See yon batteries on the right, and the men 
 
92 Prayer in the Ravine, 
 
 at the guns. Mark yon trains of ammnnition. Hear 
 the roar of that cannon. Look where you may, it 
 is all earnest here. There is not a man but feels it 
 is a death struggle. If we don't conquer the Eus- 
 sians, the Kussians will conquer us. We are all in 
 earnest, sir ; we are not playing at soldiers here. If 
 you would do good you must be in earnest too. An 
 earnest man will always win his way." Such was 
 the advice of Queen Victoria's servant to the ser- 
 vant of Jesus Christ. 
 
 Hector and Duncan on the first Sabbath after the 
 arrival of the latter retired to a ravine, and there 
 amid the deafening roar of cannon, which the mis- 
 sionary thought was always worse on the Lord's 
 day, they read, and prayed, and sang together the 
 old battle-song of David and Luther : 
 
 " God is our refuge and our strength, 
 In straits a present aid ; 
 Therefore, although the earth remove, 
 We will not be afraid. " 
 
 LTere making intercession for their friends at 
 home, for their country, and for the army, they 
 found a Bethel; and for a moment almost forgot 
 that they were in the presence of one of the great- 
 est woes of earth. "Thus we had many a pleasant 
 hour together," says our missionary; "and the only 
 strife we ever had was about the soldiers' scanty 
 meal which we divided between us, each insisting 
 that the other should have the larger share. Our 
 
First Interview with Macpherson. 93 
 
 watchword without which we never met or parted, 
 was 'The Lord reigneth.'" 
 
 Mr. H. Macpherson, writing of his friend says, 
 "Onr first interview took place on a ridge within 
 the entrenchments of the 93d Highlanders, which 
 ran along the north side of the plain of Balaklava, 
 opposite the harbor, and abont a mile from the vil- 
 lage, and which formed the key of the base of the 
 siege operations of the British army. I was stand- 
 ing watching the movements of the Eussian forces, 
 who appeared as if designing to threaten our posi- 
 tion, when I noticed a stranger in the attire of a 
 civilian approaching, who from his clean white breast 
 and respectable dress, contrasting with our rags, I 
 concluded was a minister or lay-missionary, newly 
 arrived. This supposition led me to resolve on ex- 
 ercising caution as to committing myself to him, 
 feeling that unless he was a man of God, and had 
 thoroughly counted the cost, resolving in depend- 
 ence on promised grace to throw his whole soul into 
 the work, he would neither gain the attention nor 
 win the heart's affection of British soldiers ; for car- 
 rying their life in their hand, they are above every 
 class of men prejudiced against and opposed to mere 
 official piety and ecclesiastical hirelingism. As these 
 thoughts were passing through my mind, the stran- 
 ger advanced, and in his own unreservedly frank 
 and manly way introduced himself, saying with real 
 feeling, 'Oh, Hector, man I am glad to see you. 
 How are you?' Suspicions quickly vanished, and 
 
94 The Soldier's Friend. 
 
 I felt grateful to the Disposer of every event that in 
 the thick of deadly strife on the plain of Balaklava, 
 I first met Duncan Matheson, who became my fond, 
 fast friend for life. The report I had received from 
 a worthy minister of the Gospel in Scotland, of Mr. 
 Matheson's character, I found to be in no degree 
 exaggerated, and I reckon it one of my most highly- 
 prized privileges on earth that ever I became ac- 
 quainted with such a man. Since that day many 
 a happy and profitable hour have I spent in his 
 company ; and it has been my rare privilege to be 
 associated with him in evangelistic labors in many 
 towns, villages, and rural parishes of Scotland. I 
 could not fail to respect him for his great ability ; I 
 admired his sterling worth ; his unwearied, self-de- 
 nying devotedness in the cause and service of God, 
 his manly frankness and unflinching courage, and 
 his large-hearted sympathy with distress, all tended 
 to endear him to me in the bonds of closest friend- 
 ship. Never had the British soldier a more true, 
 loving, and devoted friend than Duncan Mathe- 
 son. I believe there is not a British soldier now 
 alive, who served in the Crimea, but would heartily 
 subscribe to my testimony in his favor ; for all, both 
 officers and men, knew, and loved, and respected 
 him. As to the fruit of his labors in the Crimea, 
 the day of God will declare. My own conviction is 
 that he labored more abundantly, and accomplished 
 more real good among the troops, than all the others, 
 with the exception of the Eev. J. W. Hayward, a 
 
The Ninety-third Psalm. 95 
 
 noble minister of the Church of England, who de- 
 voted his time, his talents, and his fortune, to the 
 promotion of the temporal and spiritual benefit of 
 the soldier. With this zealous and faithful servant 
 of Christ, Mr. Matheson Avas most intimately asso- 
 ciated ; they were daily together, and went hand in 
 hand in all labors of love. 
 
 "Happening to mention to my friend, just after 
 we made each other's acquaintance, that the first 
 clause of the first verse of the 93d Psalm had been 
 a comfort to my soul, Mr. Matheson, feeling the 
 power of the truth m his own heart, and realizing 
 its appropriateness in the circumstances in which 
 we were placed, seized it as a watchword ; and ever 
 after, wherever and whenever we met, 'The Lord 
 reigneth' became the password between us. 
 
 " Wherever I met my dear liiend I was sm-e to 
 find him, like his Master, going about doing good; 
 sometimes laden with Bibles, sometimes with tracts 
 and other suitable books, and seldom without some 
 temporal comforts for the sick and wounded. Many 
 of the sick, wounded, and worn-out soldiers, was he 
 the means of relieving, and who, but for his devoted, 
 kind, and sympathizing efforts, would have sunk 
 into the cold embrace of death. He was the trusted 
 friend of all, French, Turks, and Italians, as well as 
 his own countrymen. Soldiers of every grade and 
 nationality looked on him as their special friend. 
 How he managed to procure in a time of famine so 
 many comforts for the starving soldiers was a mys- 
 
96 Procuring Supplies for the Suffering. 
 
 tery; but none knew better than.be, 'Where there 
 is a will there is a way.' His tact and genial frank- 
 ness made him a favorite with the captains of the 
 mercantile steamers employed by the Government, 
 some of whom were truly Christian men. By the 
 graphic and touching descriptions of the destitution 
 and sufferings of the soldiers in the entrenchments, 
 backed by his own evident sympathy, he reached the 
 warm hearts of the seamen ; and the never-failing re- 
 sult was a thorough searching of the vessels for every 
 thing that could be spared for the benefit of the suf- 
 fering soldiers. 
 
 " Entering the encampment of the 93d Highland- 
 ers one" icy cold winter day, he observed our desti- 
 tution of fuel either to cook our rations or warm our 
 persons. The great majority of us were clothed in 
 rags ; some without shoes ; others without a cap to 
 cover their heads from the pelting of the pitiless 
 storm ; and some of us with more mud than cloth- 
 ing attached to our bodies. After a few words of 
 loving sympathy he said, ' Hector, I must try and 
 help you.' But what could he do in such a case? 
 Why, next day he returned, and informed me that 
 he had made an effort and succeeded in procuring 
 several tons of coals fi'om the different steamers in 
 the harbor of Balaklava, which were conveyed to 
 the camp as soon as possible. This is one instalment 
 of many noble acts of kindness done to the sufferers 
 in that terrible winter. For the relief of the men 
 who were exposed not only to the hail of the enemy's 
 
In Season and ozit of Season. 97 
 
 fire, but to the fierce blasts of winter, almost with- 
 out a rag to cover tliem, he labored incessantly, and 
 unweariedly, until his gigantic efforts broke his con- 
 stitution down. 
 
 " But what he chiefly aimed at was the spiritual 
 and eternal welfare of his fellow-men. The soldiers 
 understood this ; and whenever he spoke to them of 
 salvation they listened with respectful attention. 
 They knew he was no mere official hireling, but a 
 man who loved their souls; and not a few through 
 his instrumentality, by God's almighty and distin- 
 guishing grace, have been prevented from going 
 down to an unblest eternity. In his love to souls 
 he forgot himself Often have I had to make a cup 
 of coffee to relieve his fainting frame, after a weary 
 day's tramping through the mud, laden with pro- 
 visions for the benefit of others, whom he deemed 
 in more absolute need than himself A more un- 
 selfish man I never knew. With the exception of 
 the late Eev. W. C. Burns, I never knew one so en- 
 tirely devoted to the good of others. The amount 
 of mental and physical labor he went through in the 
 Crimea was truly marvellous, and was enough to 
 break down the most robust constitution. However 
 wet or cold, or however Adolent the storm, he was 
 always on the move, and always with a special and 
 important purpose. On one of the most tempestuous 
 and piercingly cold nights I ever experienced in the 
 Crimea my regiment received orders to move eight 
 or ten miles to the south of our entrenched position, 
 7 
 
98 Lodging in a Stable, 
 
 •under cover of the darkness of the night, to dislodge 
 a body of the enemy from a threatening position they 
 held Tinder the covert of a high ridge. We were ab- 
 sent till mid-day following. Matheson was informed 
 of this expedition, and such was his sympathy with 
 others, that although, had he chosen to consult his 
 own ease and comfort, he could have secured pro- 
 tection from the inclemency of the weather, he re- 
 mained exposed in our original position until our 
 return. I shall never forget the joy he manifested 
 when he saw us all safely return without a single 
 casualty, with the exception of some of the men's 
 ears having been bit by the frosty wind. 
 
 "Mr. Matheson was well fitted by personal expe- 
 rience, and much owned by God, in encouraging, 
 comforting, and strengthening the Christian soldier 
 in the Crimea, both officers and men. It was a spe- 
 cial evidence of his own living Christianity that he 
 was a sincere lover of all in whose spirit, temper, 
 and deportment he could discover the impress of 
 Christ's image, without distinction as to sect or 
 creed." 
 
 For a time he lodged on board ship ; afterwards 
 he took up his abode on shore. There he found a 
 wretched lodging in an old stable, of which he took 
 possession with right good cheer, remembering that 
 his Master was born and cradled in as mean a place. 
 It was too well ventilated, for the fierce wind blew 
 in at a hmidred crevices in wall and roof, and often 
 as it whistled through the crannies overhead it 
 
Defeatiiig the Rats. 99 
 
 seemed to mock the shivering missionary. In an 
 nnoccupied corner he erected a rude and comfortless 
 bed, on which at the close of each day's overwhelm- 
 ing labor he laid him down to rest, but more fre- 
 quently to pray than sleep. To increase his dis- 
 comfort the stable was infested with rats, and not 
 a night passed but whole armies invaded his couch 
 and rendered him sleepless and miserable. But 
 "necessity is the mother of invention;" our mis- 
 sionary, whose wits often began where other peo- 
 ple's end, found means of relief Amongst the stores 
 lying in one end of the stable he discovered an im- 
 mense quantity of lucifer matches, which the Brit- 
 ish Commissariat in its wisdom had laid up here. 
 Taking a large supply to his bedside our Scripture- 
 reader drops asleep with a box in one hand and a 
 bundle of matches in the other. By and by, in the 
 silence and under cover of night, the hungry Russian 
 hordes stealthily issue fi'om their entrenchments, 
 and attack the person of the hapless foreigner. 
 The not unexpected sortie awakens the slumber- 
 ing Scotchman, who instantly fires his rare artil- 
 lery ; and amidst the horrid noise, the phospho- 
 rescent blaze, and the sulphureous stench, enough 
 to put the Cossacks to flight, the enemy scamper 
 off in all directions, leaving the missionary, for the 
 present, master of the field. 
 
 Yet in this rude dwelling he was contented and 
 thankful ; and even feared it was too- good to last 
 long. "My room," he says, "is quite a sight. I 
 
100 Daily Life in the Crimea. 
 
 have paper for glass in the wmdows; in some of 
 them not even that. My furnitnre consists of a bed, 
 which also serves for a chair, a Kussian chest of 
 
 drawers, and the hay for Mr. W 's cow. A jelly 
 
 jar, a brown earthen basin, and a Turkish jar are my 
 dishes. I have a sort of lamp for making my coffee. 
 My pocket knife cuts my bread, and it also serves for 
 eating my ^^^ with ; a stick serves as a spoon to stir 
 the sugar with ; and a bottle serves for a candlestick. 
 I rise early, light my lamp, make my coffee, clean 
 my boots, sweep my room with a few Turkish feath- 
 ers, and I can tell you I was never happier in my 
 life. I have a perfect palace, and I have decorated 
 the walls with copies of the ' Illustrated London 
 News.' I fear it is too good to last, but it is in the 
 Lord's hand. How contented I feel with all, and 
 how well it is that I learned when young to help 
 myself I am happy as a king, yea ten thousand- 
 fold more so than one without grace." 
 
 From his journals and letters it is not difficult to 
 form some conception of his daily life in the Crimea. 
 Eising early he prepares his breakfast, and seeks 
 refreshment to his spirit in meditation and prayer. 
 Whilst he intercedes for all, the Sardinian army lies 
 upon his heart like a prophet's burden. Having thus 
 renewed his strength, he carefully selects tracts and 
 books for distribution. His next step is to visit the 
 harbor, Avhere his loud, hearty voice wakens the 
 echoes in many a Ijluff, kind response on board ship. 
 Humor and pathos are keys to open the heart of 
 
/;/ tJie Hospitals and Camp. loi 
 
 Jack, and the missionary is master of both. A sick 
 soHier is in the crisis of disease, and he succeeds 
 in procm^ing some dehcacy for the prostrate war- 
 rior. Another whom he met the day before suffers 
 from a threatening cough ; an old woollen shu't 
 may save the poor fellow's life. Away he goes with 
 his cargo of stores, temporal and spiritual, and 
 trudges through unfathomable mud till he reaches 
 the camp. In the hospitals he ministers to the sick 
 and womided with the skill and tenderness of a 
 woman ; and when by gentle touches of humanity 
 he has smoothed the sufferer's pillow, he tries to 
 point to Jesus, and allure to heaven. 
 
 As he passes through the camp he hails every body, 
 and is hailed hi turn ; for his is the pecuhar gift of 
 knowing every one, and making himself known to 
 all. Now you hear him talking in his broadest Doric 
 to some countryman, and anon he is jabbering in 
 broken French or Italian. Under cover of a cool, 
 easy, off-hand exterior he conceals an uitense desire 
 to say some good, strong thing bearing on eternity; 
 and rarely is the opportunity missed of making the 
 home-thrust right under the fifth rib. Sometimes he 
 is repulsed, but he knows conscience is on his side. 
 Sometimes he is answered with a smile, and "Ah, 
 sir, that is all very well, but it won't do here." This 
 is a good opening for the missionary's heaviest shot. 
 " But death is here, and how are you going to meet 
 God?" Occasionally he is met with a raking fire of 
 profanity, and is put to grief and silence. He tries 
 
102 III the Market. 
 
 all bis keys into the locked heart. Perhaps the man 
 was once at the Sabbath-school ; perhaps he has a 
 mother, the traces of whose love even sin can hardly 
 obliterate. He finds an opening at length, and the 
 man who met him with swearing and laughter goes 
 away in tears. Onward amidst the tents the mis- 
 sionary holds his way, a strong sower scattering good 
 wheat npon the waters — the folly of reason, and the 
 wisdom of faith. Sometimes his heart faints within 
 him ; but he quickly renews his strength in fellow- 
 ship with some one of his godly friends. 
 
 After a hard day's work he makes his way to the 
 market at Kadi Keni, to "forage" for dinner. Here 
 too he often does some business for his Master. Fre- 
 quently, indeed, he stands for hours amidst a crowd 
 gathered out of many nations, and endeavors to find 
 an entrance for the word of life. On returning home, 
 he cooks his meal only to find that his appetite is 
 gone. But dinner or no dinner his day's work is 
 not yet done. 
 
 The last hours of the day are spent in writing his 
 journal and in attending to a vast correspondence 
 by letter. Many write him from all parts of the 
 three kingdoms, inquiring about their relatives and 
 friends in the army. Not one scrap is neglected, 
 and an answer is duly sent. Commissioned by the 
 sick and wounded, he writes on their behalf to wife, 
 or mother, or sister, or affianced one, far away. 
 Besides all that he must prepare his quarterly report, 
 and noi forget the claims upon his pen of his numer- 
 
Abundant Labors. 103 
 
 oils friends, whilst the public ear must be gratified 
 by stirring letters in the newspapers and religious 
 periodicals. His writing is not done in an easy 
 chair and slippers ; it is subject to frequent interi'up- 
 tion by visitors from the allied camps, for whom the 
 old stable begins to have rare attractions. Be he 
 soldier or navvy, Sardinian or Turk, officer or man, 
 the missionary is at his visitor's service. The pen 
 is laid aside for the employment of his most effective 
 weapon — frank, genial, copious, and forcible speech. 
 His words are often quaint in the extreme, but they 
 are as nails fastened in a sure place. The oddity 
 of his sayings may provoke a smile; but he is 
 a wise fisher of men, and knows how to bait his 
 hooks. 
 
 Such then is his daily life in the Crimea; and ere 
 the last sand of the glass has seen him rise fi-om his 
 knees to creep into his corner for the night, it is no 
 more than truth to say that the work of two days 
 has been pressed into one. 
 
 A few extracts from his published journals may 
 be here given : 
 
 "April 10th. At Sebastopol. A sheet of fire as 
 it were encircled it; the engines of death poured 
 forth their deadly volleys — the sun shone forth 
 brightly, marking forth each embrasure in bold 
 relief in the devoted city. It was a trying sight, 
 and finding no opportunities of usefulness, owing to 
 the excitement prevalent, I retired early to my quar- 
 ters, anxious that the day might soon arrive when 
 
104 Parting with Friends, 
 
 the alarm of war should be heard no more, and the 
 din of battle be forever hushed. 
 
 "April 14th. Took farewell of the Hospital Ship, 
 where for nine weeks I had been living. My work 
 on board was pleasant and painful — far more pleas- 
 ant th.an painful ; for I sought to know amongst them 
 nothing else 'save Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.' 
 I had spoken to many of them about their souls — 
 had prayed by their sick beds, and given them many 
 tracts, and the result of all the judgment of the great 
 day shall bring to light. May it be found that the 
 arrow of conviction had reached some heart, and 
 that souls there had been 'born again to God.' 
 
 "April 16th. On board Transport No. to visit 
 
 the soldiers invalided for England. Many a poor 
 sick man seemed to revive at the prospect of once 
 again meeting those he loved in his native land. 
 The scene could not be described ; it was pleasure 
 mingling with pain; they Avere going home, yet 
 leaving many friends behmd. They had high hopes 
 yet many fears. I had known most of them during 
 the winter, and the most devoted of all my friends 
 and the best loved was amongst them. Gladly was 
 I welcomed each day. I went on board ere they 
 started, and the supply of tracts given for the voy- 
 age was highly valued. To each I gave a Testament 
 
 for reading on the voyage, the gift of Colonel L , 
 
 and had, to remind them of the Crimea, to write my 
 name in each. I parted with them with much sor- 
 row, which I believe was mutual. As I saw the 
 
A Halloiuing Hoiir. 105 
 
 vessel leave the harbor a tumult of feelings filled 
 my heart. These veteran sick soldiers were lea\4ng 
 the land where they had known so many trials — 
 met so many difficulties — seen such deadly ^vork. 
 I could only commend them to the care of Him wdio 
 holdeth the winds in the hollow of his hand, and 
 who could guide them safely to then* own father- 
 land. 
 
 "April 18th. I am distributing tracts on the 
 wharfs — met a soldier wdio had been long confined 
 to hospital. I had met him before, and had gained 
 his confidence. He asked me to go aside and talk 
 with him. I did so, and his first inquiry was for a 
 Bible : he said he had never read it, or had one to 
 read, being deeply opposed to it, now he felt the need 
 of reading it for himself I had much conversation 
 with him about the need of spiritual religion, and 
 commending the Lord Jesus to liim and giving him 
 my last Bible, bade him for the present farewell, as 
 he had to go to his battery on the following day. 
 
 "April 20th. Spent the afternoon with Colonel 
 
 , sick on board ship. Rarely, if ever, have I 
 
 spent such a hallowing hour. He told me much of 
 the Lord's kind dealings with him, and the marvel- 
 lous way He had led him since called by his Spirit 
 to be a partaker of the glorious Gospel of the ever- 
 blessed God. He has done much for the spiritual 
 welfare of his men, and returns to England beloved 
 by all, yet his loss is deeply regretted. Before leav- 
 ing he made me a present of several copies of the 
 
io6 Balaklava. 
 
 Scriptures in all the languages of tlie East, and a 
 goodly number of English and French Testaments. 
 
 " April 22d. In the evening with the Rev. Mr. 
 
 G , railway chaplain ; held open-air service ; the 
 
 attendance was good, most being soldiers. It was 
 sweet to sing songs of praise on the outskirts of Bal- 
 aklava, and pleasant to hear the voice of prayer 
 amidst the round of oaths and blasphemy from the 
 huts around. 
 
 " In the front, at battery, met one of the most 
 
 pleasing trophies of grace it has been my privilege 
 
 to witness, in the case of bombardier . Truly the 
 
 meeting was a joyous one to both. He has charge of 
 the hospital attached to the battery, and every good 
 influence he brings to bear on the invalids. It has 
 been his custom, in case he should be taken prison- 
 er, to carry his Bible in his breast with him to the 
 trenches or on the march — as he remarked, ' if taken 
 prisoner he should at least have one to speak to 
 him.' Yes, and I believe he hears and follows the 
 voice as few, very few soldiers are found to do. We 
 walked long together, and next day he visited me, 
 and we had prayer and reading the Word. A pleas- 
 ing trait in his character is, he supports an aged fa- 
 ther in the Highlands of Scotland, and that very day 
 gave me seven sovereigns to transmit for him. 
 
 " A Russian officer, taken prisoner a few days ago, 
 called on me, and through an interpreter asked for 
 a Bible. I presented him with one, for which he 
 seemed very grateful. An opportunity of giving the 
 
 I 
 
Wounded Soldiers. 107 
 
 Eussian Testaments now and tlaen presents itself, 
 and it is embraced. 
 
 "April 29tli. A good few were wounded last 
 night in the trenches by a sortie made from Sebas- 
 topol. They were brought to hospital to-day, and to 
 those not seriously hurt I gave a Testament. Poor 
 fellows ! they seemed much softened and melted. I 
 was, and have often been, much struck by their calm 
 endurance of pain, and their unwavering fortitude. 
 
 " A corporal of artillery called on me for tracts 
 and books, for himself and a few comrades attached 
 to the siege-train. They have not the same time 
 many others have, and it was the more pleasing to 
 see their desire for reading. 
 
 " Visited Mam Guard, and presented each soldier 
 on guard with a Bible. I found confined a soldier 
 transported for life. In a fit of intoxication he had 
 seized a musket and fired it, wounding a man. I 
 spoke kindly to him of his condition as a sinner in 
 the sight of a holy God, and tried to open up the 
 heart-cheering, soul-comforting, soul-saving truth — 
 ' It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all accepta- 
 tion that Christ Jesus came into the world to save 
 sinners — even the chief: ' the strong man was un- 
 manned and bowed to the dust. It seemed deeply 
 to touch his heart — the message of mercy carried 
 to him, and the kindness in visiting him. I pre- 
 sented him with a Bible, which in his solitary con- 
 finement he promised to read, and took farewell of 
 him, to see him no more on earth — in the earnest 
 
io8 The Evening Fnneral. 
 
 hope that he might yet be a trophy of redeeming 
 love — a diadem in Immanuel's croAvn, in the day 
 when lie maketh up his jewels. It seemed on leav- 
 ing as if I could sing with a joyous heart : 
 
 '* ' There is a fountain filled with blood, 
 Drawn from Immanuel's veins, 
 And sinners plunged beneath that flood, 
 Lose all their guilty stains. ' 
 
 " Presenting a Testament to a sailor, he said, ' It's 
 of no use to offer me that ; I hate my work and 
 every thing else ; my life is a torment to me ; and, 
 alas, it's all one thing.' Argued with him, if this 
 was so bad a world, would it not be wiser to seek a 
 better one to come ? and urged on him the necessity 
 of doing so. He took the Testament with the prom- 
 ise of reading it. 
 
 " Visited by Quarter-master-sergeant. We spent 
 the afternoon together in reading and prayer. 
 
 " Attended and took part with the Kev. G. G , 
 
 at the funeral of a man killed by accident ; it was a 
 heart-touching scene. In the evening, just as the sun 
 had sunk, we moved beyond the lines ; the grave 
 was already made, and the busy hum of voices could 
 be distinctly heard in the camp. As we stood in 
 prayer around the grave, the gentle breeze bore 
 the sound of the cannonade distinctly towards us. 
 The company gathered were select and numerous, 
 and I believe every one felt as we stood by the open 
 grave, we were in the midst of strangers — far from 
 
Cholera. 109 
 
 home, friends, and country. As tlie address pro- 
 ceeded, marked impressions were made, and I be- 
 lieve I am right in saying, the Lord was with iis of 
 a truth. 
 
 " Visited by a sergeant of the at three o'clock 
 
 P.M., and by ten he was dead. Whilst with me I 
 could see symptoms of cholera on his countenance, 
 but little, ah, little did I think, when speaking to 
 him, he would be so soon in eternity. This terrible 
 scourge has again broken out in our army. We are 
 surrounded on all hands- by death and disease, and 
 life is felt to be most uncertain. How solemn to 
 see the mighty mass hurrying to the grave — how 
 solemnizing to see such crowds marching to eter- 
 nity. Even during my stay in this land I can look 
 back and see tents recrowded, but not by those I 
 had known ; ranks filled, but not by those to whom 
 dice and again it had been my privilege to address 
 the Gospel message of salvation. Thousands have 
 passed away, as the leaves in autumn or the snow- 
 flakes before the sun. Often when sinking, at 
 heart, have I wished I could cry in the ears of God- 
 taught souls at home, ' What meaneth thy sleep ? 
 Are you girding yourselves for the conflict? Are 
 you wrestling with the God of Jacob and prevail- 
 ing ? ' Ay, and it has come with deeper force, as I 
 have seen the Lord during the last few months 
 gathering home His children from the army, and 
 leaving it well-nigh forsaken of those who fear His 
 name. 
 
no A Friend in Need. 
 
 " All tilings at present speak loudly, and urge to 
 instant, deep, believing, persevering prayer for the 
 descent of the Holy Ghost, that waters may break 
 out in the wilderness, and streams in the desert : 
 
 *♦ * Then shall the earth yield her increase; 
 God, our God, bless us shall. 
 God shall us bless ; and of the earth, 
 The ends shall fear Him all.' " 
 
 In Mr. Hayward, an English chaplain and de- 
 voted minister of Christ, he found a true friend. In 
 all his troubles Mr. Hayward came to his help. 
 When about to be evicted from his humble dwell- 
 ing, the good chaplain interfered, and he was al- 
 lowed to remain. When the priest at Balaklava 
 attempted to stop the distribution of tracts, his faith- 
 ful friend withstood the priest, and the work went 
 on. They labored much together. Laden with ma- 
 terial and spiritual comforts, they often sallied forth 
 in company to visit the sick, the wounded, and the 
 dying. Sometimes they did their cooking together, 
 the Kev. chaplain trying his culinary skill in mak- 
 ing a pudding of biscuit, while the lay missionary 
 washed a few potatoes which he had been fortunate 
 enough to procure about the ships. At every junc- 
 ture in the war they retired to a lonely spot to pray ; 
 and never could Matheson forget the impression 
 made upon his heart when as they knelt Hayward 
 would raise his noble countenance toward heaven, 
 and amidst the thunder of the cannon plead with a 
 
Sad Sio^hts. m 
 
 "e. 
 
 voice full of emotion, " Lord, prepare those that are 
 appointed to die." They organized a service in 
 which, besides prayer, praise, and preaching, Hay- 
 ward introduced the practice of reading all round. 
 This gave additional interest to the meeting ; and 
 it was pleasing to see a general and a navvy read- 
 ing each his verse in turn. The devoted chaplain 
 spent his private means in promoting the good of 
 the soldiers. At length, exhausted by his great 
 labors, he fell ill, and was obliged to leave. In his 
 last sermon — a memorable one — he told his audi- 
 ence he had changed his mind in regard to the 
 apostolical succession ; he now believed that all who 
 brought souls to Jesus were of the true apostolical 
 succession. His friend, our Scripture-reader, as- 
 sisted in conveying him on board ship, and they 
 laid him gently down upon the quarter deck beside 
 other sick ones, to whom the afflicted chaplain be- 
 gan to speak of Christ. There ]\Iatheson and Hay- 
 ward parted, with such pangs of sorrow as large 
 and true hearts only feel. The two faithful soldiers 
 of the cross now worship and serve where the d'in 
 of war is hushed forever, and the weary are at rest. 
 Sad were the sights witnessed by the Scripture- 
 reader every day. Hundreds of sick and wounded 
 were brought down to Balaklava — famished, ema- 
 ciated, clothed in rags, many a noble form, a total 
 wreck from lack of timely aid. He wept at the 
 sight. The sufferers fixed then- eyes on him in 
 touching appeal, and many uttered a piercing cry 
 
112 Dying Soldiers. 
 
 for water. He did what lie could. Some of tliem 
 he saw die on the wharf On board many lay hud- 
 dled together under the open hatchway. Some lay 
 on bags of biscuit — anywhere, anywhere in the hur- 
 ry and helplessness. " Scotland I'll never see again," 
 was the heart-piercing lament of a poor Scotch sol- 
 dier laddie. Ah, no ! Poor boy, he never did see Scot- 
 land again. A Lincolnshire lad whom he sought and 
 found was unable to speak a word. "Your mother 
 bade me seek you," said the missionary. At this 
 word the dying soldier suddenly revived, and ex- 
 claimed, "My mother! my mother!" It was the 
 last flicker of the candle. He said no more, and 
 died. The last tender throb of his heart was given 
 to her who had knoAvn its first gentle beat. 
 
 Suffering does not necessarily soften and refine. 
 Feelings and affections are tender plants: unless 
 care is taken, rough winds blight and kill them. 
 A heart-hardening process in the army was only 
 too apparent. One day the missionary, marking the 
 conduct of a burying party who had cast the dead 
 into a pit with no ordinary levity, admonished them 
 with much feeling and impressiveness. A party of 
 soldiers was one fine day seen playing at cards in 
 the trenches. A shot laid one of them low. In- 
 stantly they rose, and carrying the dead man away, 
 returned in a few minutes and resumed the game. 
 Despite all this callousness of heart, the missionary 
 often succeeded in making an impression even to 
 tears. In particular, he knew how to reach the 
 
Burial of Dead Tracts, 113 
 
 hearts of his coiintiymen, and not seldom did he 
 unseal the fountains of emotion by an allusion to 
 Auld Scotland, the scenes of boyhood, the parish 
 school, a question in the Shorter Catechism, or 
 the 23d Psalm, "The Lord's my Shepherd; I'll not 
 want," learned at a mother's knee. 
 
 He was very careful in respect of the matter con- 
 tained in the tracts he put into circulation. By 
 whomsoever issued he cared not, provided only 
 they contained the truth as it is in Jesus. A great 
 heap of Popish trash, full of Mariolatry, coming into 
 his possession, he was at a loss how to dispose of 
 them. By the help of a party of soldiers, lie dug a 
 deep trench. "There," he says, "we gave them de- 
 cent burial;" adding with grim humor, "We read 
 no burial service over them, and dropped no tears ; 
 but quietly said in our hearts, ' Let the memorj'' of 
 the wicked rot. ' " Such was the bm^al of dead tracts. 
 Another heap, "all about schism, and not at all about 
 Christ," he thrust into a Russian furnace, at which 
 he and a friend warmed their toes. In all con- 
 science they knew enough already about schism 
 in the Crimea ; what they needed was union with 
 Christ and peace. A third parcel of rubbish he took 
 out in a boat, and cast the dangerous lies into the 
 sea. "We put poison out of the way of children," 
 says he. This, verily, was soldier-like work. 
 
 One night, weary and sad, he was returning from- 
 Sebastopol to his poor lodgings in the old stable at 
 Balaklava. He had labored all day with unflag- 
 8 
 
1 14 Sweet Thoughts of Rest. 
 
 •ging energy, and now his strength was gone. He 
 was sickened with the sights he had seen, and was 
 depressed with the thought that the siege was no 
 nearer an end than ever. As he trudged along in 
 the mud knee-deep, he happened to look up and 
 noticed the stars shining calmly in the clear sky. 
 Instinctively his weary heart mounted heavenward 
 in sweet thoughts of the "rest that remaineth for 
 the people of God," and he began to sing aloud the 
 well-known Scriptural verses : 
 
 •• How bright these glorious spirits shine ! 
 Whence all their white array ? 
 How came they to the blissful seats 
 Of everlasting day ? 
 
 *'Lo ! these are they from sufferings great, 
 Who came to realms of light, 
 And in the blood of Christ have washed 
 Those robes which shine so bright." 
 
 Next day was wet and stormy, and when he went 
 out to see what course to take, he came upon a sol- 
 dier standing for shelter below the veranda of an 
 old house. The poor fellow was in rags, and all that 
 remained of shoes upon his feet were utterly insuffi- 
 cient to keep his naked toes from the mud. Alto- 
 gether he looked miserable enough. The kind- 
 hearted missionary spoke words of encouragement 
 to the soldier, and gave him at the same time half 
 a sovereign with which to purchase shoes, suggest- 
 ing that he might be supplied by those who were 
 
k 
 
 A Soldier Saved from Stiicide. 115 
 
 burying the dead. The soldier offered his warmest 
 thanks, and then said, "I am not what I was yester- 
 day. Last night, as I was thinking of our miserable 
 condition, I grew tired of life, and said to myself, 
 Here we are not a bit nearer taking that place than 
 when we sat down before it. I can bear this no 
 longer, and may as well try and put an end to it. 
 So I took my musket and went down yonder in a 
 desperate state about eleven o'clock; but as I got 
 round the point, I heard some person singing 'How 
 bright these glorious spirits shine,' and I remembered 
 the old tune and the Sabbath-school where we used 
 to sing it. I felt ashamed of being so cowardly, and 
 said, Here is some one as badly off as myself, and 
 yet he is not giving in. I felt he had something to 
 make him happy of which I was ignorant, and I 
 began to hope I too might get the same happiness. 
 I returned to my tent, and to-day I am resolved to 
 seek the one thing." "Do you know who the singer 
 was ? " asked the missionary. "No," was the reply. 
 "Well," said the other, "it was I;" on which the 
 tears rushed into the soldier's eyes, and he requested 
 the Scripture-reader to take back the half sovereign, 
 saying, " Never, sir, can I take it from you, after 
 what you have been the means of doing for me." 
 
 He says he did not find many real Christians in 
 the army. There were a few stars of the first mag- 
 nitude, and they shone conspicuous in so dark a 
 sky. Our lay missionary was not long in discover- 
 ing those who feared the Lord ; and he found in them 
 
Ii6 Hedley Vicars. 
 
 true friends. The first time lie entered the tent of 
 Capt. Hedley Vicars, he observed that although the 
 officer was absent at the time, his Bible lay opened 
 upon a sort of table made of an old box. Thus the 
 godly Vicars showed his colors, the open Bible in- 
 timating to all who entered on what terms they 
 might have his fellowship. "His manliness and 
 whole-heartedness," says Mr. Matheson, "struck 
 you at once. There was nothing morose or gloomy 
 about him ; nothing to repel. He retained the fresh- 
 ness of boyhood with wisdom above his years. \\. 
 our first meeting my heart was glued to him at once." 
 In his journal he writes: "March 19th. AtSebasto- 
 pol. Met with Dr. Cay and Major Ingram in Vicars' 
 tent. We had prayer and reading the Word to- 
 gether. It was to us all a well in the desert, a 
 bright spot amidst surrounding gloom. We blessed 
 God on hearing that a day of national humiliation 
 and prayer was appointed. Cay and Vicars accom- 
 panied me on my way. After Cay left us Vicars 
 and I stood on the plateau above Sebastopol, the 
 doomed city, as it was often called, lying in its 
 beauty before us. The sky was without a cloud; 
 the sea was as calm as a pond. It was on one of 
 those sweet evenings you never can forget. Our 
 conversation was on the purity, blessedness and 
 endless peace of heaven, where the din of battle 
 shall never be heard, nor the strifes of earth be 
 known. We expressed to one another much long- 
 ing to reach it. Speaking of some who had gone, 
 
Bombardier APL. 117 
 
 we remembered Peden at the grave of Cam- 
 eron exclaiming, '0 to be wi' Ritchie!' and our 
 feehng was the same. AVe could hardly part. He 
 agreed to meet and spend a day with me at Bal- 
 aklava." 
 
 On the day fixed for the meeting Hedley Vicars 
 was taken home to his God. Matheson was over- 
 whelmed with grief, and could only exclaim, ' Dear, 
 dear Vicars ! " As he stood beside the grave on the 
 day of burial he felt in his inmost heart as if " an- 
 other link had been snapped on earth, and another 
 bond formed in heaven." 
 
 One of his best friends was Bombardier M'L., a 
 warm-hearted Highlander and a Christian. Just as 
 the alarm was sounded and the men were called to 
 arms, Mr. Matheson on entering the bombardier's 
 tent found him buckling himself for the fight and 
 putting his Bible into his bosom, saying, "If I fall, 
 it will be there : and if I am taken prisoner, it will 
 speak to me, and I can never be weary with such a 
 companion." One day when they had retired to a 
 quiet spot for prayer and reading of the Word of God, 
 a shell dropped at their feet. On this they went a 
 little further off; but again the exercises were dis- 
 turbed by another terrible invader which fell be- 
 side them, shaking the very ground beneath them. 
 "Never mind," said the soldier, "it is only the devil 
 trying to spoil our enjoyment: let us go on." They 
 had just resumed when whiz, whiz, with a loud fall 
 a thnty-two pound shot lay beside them. The mis- 
 
ii8 Nari'ozv Escapes. 
 
 sionary was alarmed, but the soldier calmed his fear 
 
 by quietly saying, 
 
 ' ' Not a shaft can liit 
 
 Till the God of love sees fit." 
 
 This brave man Matheson used to tell, once stood 
 alone by his gun in the midst of an assailing Russian 
 host, and in a hand-to-hand encounter maintained 
 his ground till the enemy was driven back, one of 
 the Russians with whom he grappled falling dead at 
 his feet. 
 
 The missionary, peaceful though his part of the 
 business Avas, occasionally experienced danger, and 
 had his narrow escapes. One day, when conversing 
 with a godly officer in a retired spot, the latter said, 
 "We have been long enough here, let us move 
 aAvay." No sooner had they removed than a 13- 
 inch shell dropped and burst on the very spot where 
 they had been standing. " God had cared for us," 
 he says, " and we were safe." 
 
 "At Sebastopol during the unsuccessful attack on 
 the Mamelon. It was a fearful night. Thousands 
 were hurried into eternity, and yet our soldiers 
 marched cheering to the trenches, and seemed total- 
 ly unconcerned. The mail had arrived just ere they 
 marched, and you could see them reading the letters 
 from home. Two hours after, they were dead or dy- 
 ing. There seemed to reign an utter recklessness of 
 life, and I could hear the wild oaths as they marched 
 bandied about in the ranks. 1 had an opportunity 
 
Going to the Slaughter, 119 
 
 of speaking a few words to some of them, and dur- 
 ing part of the night remained with the outlying 
 sentries, in one of whom I felt special interest. At 
 
 midnight went to the tent of Bombardier , and 
 
 had prayer with him. In the morning all was calm, 
 save now and then shot from some heavy gun, and 
 the wounded were carried away in great numbers. 
 It is in such scenes as these one can truly appreciate 
 the reign of righteousness yet to arise on this be- 
 nighted world, and long and pray for its speedy 
 advent." 
 
 One day, 17th June, we find him speaking about 
 the "one thing needful" to "a large draft for the 
 Rifles, mostly boys," newly arrived. On landing 
 they are drawn up and ranged, before " marching 
 to the front ; " and as he slips out and in among them, 
 giving them Testaments and speaking in his own 
 hearty, affectionate way about home, and battle, and 
 death, and eternity, he is pleased to mark unwonted 
 signs of emotion, and remarks that " it seemed as if 
 their hearts had got tender when brought so near 
 the seat of conflict." These boys were going to be 
 butchered on the morrow at the Redan. "Next day," 
 he adds, " I was at Sebastopol, and some of these 
 very men were carried past wounded, whilst others 
 had been killed in the fight." 
 
 " Attended and took part in the meeting, specially 
 with reference to the expected assault on the mor- 
 row. The worthy chaplain's address was most sol- 
 emn, aflTecting, and impressive. It was indeed a 
 
120 Attack on the Redan. 
 
 night of deepest feeling, and much of tlie Lord's 
 presence was enjoyed." 
 
 In reference to the disastrous attack on the Eedan, 
 he writes in his jonrnal: "June 18th. Early in the 
 morning went to Sebastopol. I trust higher and 
 holier motives than those of mere curiosity led me. 
 Was eye-witness to all the proceedings of the fatal 
 morning. It produced feelings that cannot be ex- 
 pressed ; to hear and see the deadly conflict, and be 
 witness to the dead and dying carried past, endur- 
 ing their sufferings with calm fortitude and unmur- 
 muring silence. Spoke words of kindness to a few ; 
 and sought, as able, to tell others the lesson to be 
 learned, viz., to seek the Lord, who only could grant 
 victory, and put no confidence in an arm of flesh. 
 When the fury of the storm had passed, and some- 
 thing of a depressing calm was felt, looked in at 
 
 • Hospital, but could not stand the sight. Some 
 
 had limbs amputated; others hands off; and many 
 were suff'ering from unextracted bullets. There are 
 events in every man's history he can hardly forget, 
 and through grace, I should like to retain the many 
 lessons taught me on the 18th of June, before Se- 
 bastopol." 
 
 He was well received by the sailors in the harbor 
 of Balaklava. When not admitted on board he left 
 a parcel of carefully selected tracts to be distributed 
 among the men. One day a soldier refusing a tract, 
 a sailor with the wonted frankness and good humor 
 of Jack stepped up and said, "If he won't, I will," 
 
Work Among the Navvies. 12 1 
 
 adding for the encouragement of the missionary, 
 
 "Thank ye, sir ; I hke a good yarn." Captain T , 
 
 master of a transport, used to hoist the Bethel flag 
 on his ship, and Matheson held service on board. 
 
 He was also called to minister to the navvies of 
 the Army Works Corps, among whom cholera had 
 broken out. As early as five in the morning he was 
 astir with his Bible and his medicine. His counsel 
 and aid were in great demand, for the navvies had 
 taken it into their heads that no medicines w^ere so 
 effective as his. Something, no doubt, was due to 
 " the effectual fervent prayer " which " availeth 
 much." This opportunity of usefulness was seized 
 with his usual promptitude and good sense ; but the 
 work sometimes proved more than even his strong 
 frame could bear. 
 
 Mr. Gymgell, chaplain of the Army Works Corps, 
 being taken ill of cholera, our missionary watched 
 him till he died. Through the long weary hours of 
 his last night on earth, Matheson sat by his bedside 
 ministering to him, till at length, as it drew towards 
 the dawn, the faithful chaplain, breathing out faith 
 and hope, peacefully fell asleep in Jesus. On the 
 Scripture-reader devolved the last offices of friend- 
 ship, and keen were his feelings in transmitting the 
 sad tidings to the widow and children far away. 
 Just as the sun was setting they bui'ied him in a 
 quiet spot near the grave of Admiral Boxer, and 
 Matheson addressed all those present with more than 
 ordinary impressiveness and power. He felt as if 
 
122 Illness — Trip to Trebizond. 
 
 tlie disease had fastened on himself, and he spoke 
 with the Hght of a near eternity in his soul. 
 
 Utterly prostrate, he reeled home to the old stable, 
 and crept into his comfortless bed, where he lay sick, 
 helpless, and alone for three days and three nights. 
 Growing worse hour by hour, he was at length no 
 longer able to rise for his only comfort — a drink of 
 water ; and despairing of hfe he turned his face to 
 the wall to die. This the hour of his extremity was 
 God's opportunity. The Lord sent an angel to min- 
 ister to him in the person of Mr. Medley, a gentle- 
 man in the Commissariat, who had formerly been a 
 London city missionary. Happening to come to the 
 door, he discovered the forlorn condition of the Scrip- 
 ture-reader, ran to his relief, and never left him till 
 he began to recover. " It was the sound of Mr. Med- 
 ley's voice singing psalms," said our missionary, 
 *'that first brought me to myself, and from that mo- 
 m.ent I began to get better." 
 
 For the benefit of his health he took a trip to 
 Trebizond, of which he speaks in a letter to his sis- 
 ter. " I wrote you that I was going to Trebizond. 
 I did go, and was absent a week. I cannot tell you 
 how much better I was for the trip. It was in the 
 ' City of Aberdeen ' I went, and the passage was beau- 
 tiful. It would be impossible for me to describe the 
 beauty of Trebizond and the adjacent country. I 
 hardly thought such gorgeous scenery was to be 
 seen on earth. Should I be spared to return I may 
 be able to convey some idea of it to you. I was 
 
Jczv and Gentile. 123 
 
 most taken up about its spiritual condition, which 
 is sad in the extreme. Of 60,000 inhabitants there 
 is only one Englishman, the British Consul. The 
 Americans have a missionary there doing a good 
 work; but as he had gone to Constantinople I chd 
 not see him. I left a letter for him and some books. 
 Some of the converts I saw and was much pleased 
 with them. I felt, how deeply ! the want of know- 
 ing their language ; for as I walked through the city 
 given up to idolatry, I wished I had been able to 
 preach 'Christ and Him crucified.' The sight of so 
 many thousands believing a lie gives one an inter- 
 est in missions such as many speeches could not 
 give. 
 
 The Tui'ks in Trebizond I found to be most invet- 
 erate against Christianity ; but their days are num- 
 bered. . . . Although only a week absent I had 
 many friends wearying for me, and once again I 
 was glad to see them and enter on my work. All 
 friends here, however, must be held very loosely, for 
 they soon remove or are taken away." 
 
 The market-place, Kadi Keni, situated about a 
 mile from Balaklava, was a stirring spot. English, 
 French, Italians, Tm-ks, Jews, Maltese, and others, 
 assembled here. The Jews were extremely debased, 
 but the Maltese, if possible, were more wicked still ; 
 for they were sometimes caught in the act of spoil- 
 ing the dead. The market was just the place for 
 our Scripture-reader : here he did much business for 
 his Master. No Jew was more bent on making gain 
 
124 '^^^^ Sardinian Army. 
 
 than lie was on winning souls ; his constant cry was, 
 " Who will buy the truth? " 
 
 At Kadi Keni he met officers and soldiers of 
 the Sardinian army, and made their acquaintance. 
 "From the day that the compact, brave, accom- 
 plished, and well-behaved Sardinian army set foot 
 on Crimean soil," he writes, " my heart was set on 
 doing them good, and I prayed that God would en- 
 able me to spread the Word among them. Know- 
 ing that God could bless one text as well as a thou- 
 sand, I committed to memory from the Italian New 
 Testament that Gospel in miniature in John iii. 16: 
 *For God so loved the world, that He gave His 
 only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him 
 should not perish, but have everlasting life.' I went 
 out, and standing amongst them repeated the pas- 
 sage, and then passed from group to group with my 
 little Gospel message. Then I took the New Testa- 
 ment and Avent out reading it as best I could, till a 
 deep interest to possess it was called forth, and the 
 time had come for its distribution." 
 
 Cholera, too, came to clear the way for the ser- 
 vant of the Lord Jesus. Many soldiers of the Sar- 
 dinian army were taken ill : there was a lively de- 
 mand for the medicines, of which Mr. Matheson had 
 a large store, and very soon his services were held 
 in as high repute by the Italians as by the English 
 navvies. He saw the door of access opening; he 
 felt assured the Lord was answering his prayers; 
 and so incessantly and lovingly did he labor among 
 
Distribution of New Testaments. 125 
 
 them, that he came to be named, "The Sardinians 
 Friend." His kindness won a way into their hearts ; 
 prejudices gave way ; he became a universal favor- 
 ite, and many of the Itahans received the Word of 
 God at his hands, when they would have rejected it 
 at the hands of any others. 
 
 In his journal of June 1st he writes: "Began the 
 distribution of Italian New Testaments in fear and 
 much trembling. Opening after opening presented 
 itself, and the avidity with which many received 
 them was remarkable, Avhilst others sternly refused 
 them. One officer asked for a copy, and assisted 
 me to supply all his company, remarking, ' A better 
 book they could not possess.'" Again, June 2d, 
 " Took a large bag full of Italian New Testaments 
 to market-place. Kadi Keni. ]\Iet many Sardinians, 
 and on presenting them with the Word was offered 
 by nine tenths payment for them. Some sternly re- 
 fused. The joy of others was great." 
 
 Day after day the interest increased. One walked 
 five miles in tlie darkness of night to knock at the 
 old stable door and get the Word of God. Another 
 came begging the whole Bible, because he had found 
 the New Testament so good. " I have a great treas- 
 ure now," said another, as he put the book in his 
 bosom, and went away. At five in the morning 
 the missionary is aroused by Sardinian soldiers seek- 
 ing the Word of God. They were going to join the 
 advance, and feared losing their only opportunity of 
 procuring a copy. A Waldensian corporal lying iU 
 
126 Biter est in the Word. 
 
 at tliis time, in answer to the kind inquiries of tlie 
 Scripture-reader, said, " The source of all true cour- 
 age is, whilst the body is on earth, the soul is in 
 heaven," — a truly Waldensian and martyr-like view 
 of the matter. " Spoke to the Sardinian guard," 
 Matheson writes in his journal, " and told them of 
 the only Saviour of sinners, and gave each of them a 
 New Testament. They said they would take them 
 home to Italy. Visited by seven Sardinian officers, 
 who wished to have Bibles. As an army of reserve, 
 they said they had much time for reading, and 
 would take their Bibles home as a memorial of Eng- 
 lish affection and of the Crimea." Two Tuscans, 
 burning with zeal for liberty and Italy, enlightened 
 and able to speak English fluently, visited the sta- 
 ble, and heard the good old story of freedom through 
 Jesus Christ. A Tyrolese, of noble countenance, 
 who had fought under Garibaldi at Rome, and shared 
 the perils of his flight, received a copy of the Word, 
 and became attached to the missionary. Thus the 
 work went on day by day, despite all the efforts of 
 the priests, who did their utmost to stop it. 
 
 Duncan's frank, genial disposition, and intense 
 sympathy with the Italians in their aspirations for 
 national liberty and unity, were largely instru- 
 mental in opening the door for the Word of God 
 among the Sardinian troops. God gave him favor 
 with the officers. Dr. S , who could speak Eng- 
 lish, became his friend. That gentleman had been 
 led to embrace Protestantism by reading the Bible, 
 
"77^^ Sardinians' FriendP 127 
 
 and comparing the religion of Rome with the truth. 
 He introduced Mr. Matheson to other officers, who 
 invited him to dinner. The missionary made a 
 speech, Dr. S. being interpreter. After depicting 
 in glowing colors what he firmly believed would be 
 the future of a free and united Italy, whose flag 
 should one day be unfui'led on the Capitol of Rome, 
 he proceeded to speak of the Gospel as the greatest 
 glory of a nation, and Jesus Christ as the only true 
 liberator of men. His sincerity and enthusiasm 
 carried all their hearts as by storm, and thenceforth 
 "The Sardinians' Friend" enjoyed all but unbounded 
 liberty and respect in carrying on the work of the 
 Lord in the Italian army. 
 
 Thus his field of labor was constantly widening, 
 and knowing that the day of opportunity would 
 soon close, he pressed into every breach with in- 
 domitable courage and unquenchable zeal, till at 
 length in the capture of Sebastopol he saw a certain 
 indication of the end of his mission. His account of 
 the final bombardment and assault deserves a page. 
 
 "Balaklava, 10th September, 1855. 
 "The din of battle has been hushed for a time, 
 and I have found a little leisure to write. I hardly 
 know where to begin, and I do not for a moment 
 conceive I shall be able to give you any right idea 
 of the transactions of the last few days. My last 
 told you of the mighty preparations going silently 
 and mechanically on for the final assault. For days 
 
128 A Ship on Fire. 
 
 and days nothing was seen but the transit of am- 
 munition, and the transport of gabions, etc., for the 
 front. The fire for some time back every night 
 had been truly terrific. It seemed the Kussians 
 well knew how oui' works were coiling themselves 
 around their devoted city, and if they could not 
 prevent this, they seemed determined to annoy us. 
 What was often thought to be the reopening of 
 the bombardment was only meant to allow the 
 French at the Malakoff and us at the Redan to 
 finish the works under cover of it. On the morning 
 of the 6th it seemed as if all batteries had opened. 
 Gun after gun sent forth its deadly charges, and 
 during the whole day nothing else was heard but 
 the whiz of shells as they fiew through the air. 
 The accuracy of our aim was remarkable. In one 
 minute you could count nine shells bursting upon 
 the parapet of the Redan, and the Malakofi* seemed 
 entirely shrouded in a sable covering of smoke and 
 dust. Thus it continued during the day, and as 
 evening had settled on us, one of the Russian ships 
 in the harbor was seen to be on fire. Slowly the 
 flames flew up the rigging, and soon the burning 
 fragments were scattered around. It was a bril- 
 liant sight. The dark night — the horizon lighted 
 up for miles — the city seen as if by day — the sound 
 of the rifles, as they went off, pop, pop, in the ad- 
 vanced works — the heavy cannonade' — and the star- 
 like fuses of the shells, as they rolled through the 
 air, made it all awfully imposing. For hours the 
 
Incessant C annonadmg. 129 
 
 ship burned, and when morning broke you could 
 see the hulk burned to the water's edge, and the 
 other vessels lying lazily in the spot where they 
 have so long been. 
 
 "If the fire of the 6th was heavy, it was as noth- 
 ing to the fire which opened on the 7th. Every 
 spot seemed to possess a gun, and from every side 
 the smoke, fire, and noise were terrific. It seemed 
 as if all the guns and mortars in the French left 
 went oJBF at one moment. Volley after volley shook 
 the air, and the Avhole seemed as made of living fire. 
 For a short time it seemed as if they had spent their 
 fury, and as if the work were done. The guns were 
 only cooling. In a little while they burst forth with 
 greater fury than before. Thus during the whole 
 day it continued. There seemed no slackening, no 
 flagging, no wearying. Now and then the Kussians 
 replied, but it was feeble and faint — not one shot 
 for the thousand given. Thousands of spectators, 
 chiefly, yea, almost all, soldiers, crowded the heights, 
 where a passing glimpse could be had as the smoke 
 cleared away. It was touching to see them in little 
 groups discussing tlie probability of an attack, and 
 their remarks were often of a mellowing cast. Gray- 
 haired soldiers felt certain of it, though all was kept 
 profoundly silent, and it sent a strange thrill through 
 the heart to see some of the young, only joined a 
 few days before, gambolling to the sound. During 
 the niglit there was no cessation, and the rockets 
 flew at intervals, kindling the city in various places. 
 
130 Weeping Wives, 
 
 Sleep was far from our eyes. The night seemed long 
 and dreary, and the sighing of the wind on the fierce 
 blast seemed to sound in the ears like sighs deep and 
 loud from a sepulchre. At length morning broke, 
 cold and cheerless. The sun now and then seemed 
 ready to shoot forth, but kept back, as if afraid of 
 shining on the work of the bloody day. The wind 
 was strong, and carried the dust in whirling eddies 
 through the camp. It blew well-nigh a hurricane, 
 and seemed ready to carry all before it. We ap- 
 proached Cathcart's Hill and found the whole line 
 guarded by our dragoons. One could scarcely stand 
 for the cold, and yet the interest of the moment ab- 
 sorbed every thought. The cannonade seemed still 
 fierce, and now and then through the strange min- 
 gling of smoke, fire, and dust, you could catch a 
 glimpse of the two spots of interest — the Malakoff 
 and the Eedan — greatly battered, and only now and 
 then firing a sohtaiy shot, as tokens of being yet 
 unsubdued. 
 
 "By seven a.m. the Light Division had marched. 
 By eleven the other divisions had assembled, and 
 marched to their respective posts. They wound 
 down the various ravines in good order, and seem- 
 ingly knowing the desperate nature of the work 
 they were to do. I saw several soldiers' wives weep- 
 ing after them as they went. Each man carried for- 
 ty-eight hours' provisions. Their advance could not 
 be seen, for the wind canied the dust and smoke in 
 darkening columns, shrouding all well-nigh in mid- 
 
The Malakoff Taken. 131 
 
 niglit darkness. It was blowing into our works, and 
 straight away from the Eussians. A large building 
 burned in Sebastopol, and yet it was scarcely no- 
 ticed, so eagerly did all look for twelve o'clock. It 
 came. We heard the crack of musketry at the 
 Malakoff, and the cannonade still went on. In a 
 few minutes the report, ' The Malakoff is taken,' 
 reached the camp. The 3d Division in reserve gave 
 three hearty cheers, which could be distinctly heard 
 through the camp above the din of all. The oppo- 
 sition at the Malakoff was faint. In ten minutes 
 the eagles of France floated on it. It seemed un- 
 expected. The French works were so near it — one 
 bound, and it had fallen. All eyes turned to the Re- 
 dan. Here, in a moment, the battle raged. Such hot 
 musketry has rarely been seen. Our men mounted 
 its parapets, and were hurled into the ditch below. 
 Man after man ascended, and one officer, mounting 
 the parapet, waved his sword and cheered them for- 
 ward. He Avas soon laid in the dust. Mass after 
 mass pressed forward, and, over the dead bodies of 
 their comrades, got within. They had gained it, 
 but the dense mass of Russian infantry poured in 
 countless thousands upon them, and one battery 
 within, miseen, played hard. The Russian force, in 
 leaving the Malakoff, poured into the Redan, de- 
 termined to make it the final settling-ground. The 
 few of our soldiers that got a footing made a noble 
 stand, but they were as a drop in the sea, or a leaf 
 in the forest, compared with the dense masses that 
 
132 Final Attack on the Redan. 
 
 came against them. They had to retire, and yet 
 time after time they rushed to the assault, and kept 
 the enemy from gaining one inch of ground. Be- 
 tween the Malakoff and Kedan the contest fiercely 
 raged. Victory seemed to hang tremblingly in the 
 balance, and moments passed as hours — so deep 
 was the suspense. At three o'clock the wounded 
 began to be carried up. It was a sad and melan- 
 choly procession. The Woronzoff road was one con- 
 tinuous stream — officers and men all alike. Some 
 walked themselves, limping, whilst the blood oozed 
 from their wounds, and now and then, as the wind 
 threw the cloak or covering a little aside, you saw 
 the pale cold face of some one who had gone from 
 the battle to the judgment-seat. As I stood mark- 
 ing the sickening sights, three soldiers' wives rushed 
 down the ravine, asking after their husbands, and 
 presenting a dreadful spectacle of misery and grief. 
 A ball from some of the Kussian batteries fell close 
 beside them, and they had to run with all speed to 
 the rear. The wind still blew, and the cold contin- 
 ued intense. Now and then it lulled for a moment, 
 and the sun burst brightly forth. All was silent 
 along the French right, and only our batteries and 
 tlie French left kept up the fire. The mark was 
 still the Eedan. It was evident the Kussians were 
 losing heart. 
 
 "Night closed on the scene, and the wind died 
 away. The reserves Avere marched ofi" for the work 
 of the coming day. The town was on fire in sev- 
 
Retreat of tJie Russians. 133 
 
 eral places, and the shipping seemed without a gun. 
 Explosion after explosion took place. At two o'clock 
 — one louder than the rest. Part of the Redan had 
 been sprung. The Highlanders, who behaved nobly, 
 held in reserve for the next assault, entered, and 
 found it evacuated. The Russians had fled, and, 
 whatever else may be said, made a masterly retreat, 
 displaying the most consummate generalship. As 
 they went, they fired all behind them, and our men 
 were not allowed to follow, which was well, for yes- 
 terday explosions were taking place the whole day. 
 In the night they had sunk their shipping, so long 
 the terror of the Allies, and the cause of so many 
 deaths. The eye had got so long accustomed to the 
 sight of these mighty vessels, and now it is cheer- 
 less to see the waves gently cresting over the spot 
 where they were, and to glance at the large bay 
 without a speck, save a few harmless steamers cow- 
 ering under the guns of the opposite shore. 
 
 "Yesterday, we had our first quiet Sabbath in the 
 Crimea. How pleasant, how calm, how refreshing 
 it dawned upon us ! Before, all used to be bustle, 
 and the cannonade kept no Sabbath, and had re- 
 spect to no commands. Not a gun was now heard. 
 The stillness of death seemed to reign, and the deep- 
 est interest to be felt in knowing who had or had 
 not survived. Many a sad blank was found, and I 
 had to weep specially over one friend who had only 
 arrived from England two days before, and who fell 
 at the first attack. He was an officer of the Rifles, 
 
134 T^Ji-^ Fallen. 
 
 and if honored with a tombstone, the epitaph truly 
 may be, 'He walked with God.' Only a few en- 
 tered the town yesterday, and om- troops moved 
 cautiously, there being so many mines springing. 
 It is all mined. Not a building remains uninjured. 
 Shot and fragments of shell pave every spot. Build- 
 ings have been scattered in ruins, and what has been 
 left the flames have devoured. It has a desolate, 
 di-eary aspect, and the wind howls hideously through 
 its deserted streets. The dead lie all around, and 
 heap upon heap meets the eye at the various points 
 of sharpest contest. Yesterday and to-day, the last 
 offices are performing for the dead, laying them in 
 graves on the spot where many of them fell. The 
 stern tide of war has mercilessly swept them away, 
 and left many to deplore their loss. Friend and foe 
 lie together, and Sebastopol is in the possession of 
 our army. 
 
 " It has been got at a dear rate, and the price of 
 it has been much blood. How many thousands, 
 yea, tens of thousands, have found their graves 
 before it, there to await till the trump of God shall 
 summon the sleepers to arise ! When I think of the 
 mingled joy and weeping the sound of this victory 
 shall produce at home, my soul is filled with deep- 
 est feeling. I feel greatly it will be laid to the bra- 
 very of our army, and to the skill of our command- 
 ers; but those whose hearts are filled with divine 
 light, and who know any thing of the tremen- 
 dous difficulties overcome, and the magnitude of 
 
Letter to Mr. Peter Drummond. 135 
 
 the struggle, will give all the glory to the Lord, to 
 whom it belongs." 
 
 The following letter to Mr. P. Dmmmond, Stir- 
 ling, will furnish some idea of his work, and the 
 free course of the word of God in the Crimea : 
 
 "Balaklava, Sept. 20th, 1855. 
 
 "My Dear Mr. Drummond: Now that the town of 
 Sebastopol has fallen, and the din of battle for a 
 time has ceased, I have found a little leisure to write 
 to you. And first I desire to thank you very sin- 
 cerely, in my own name and that of others, for the 
 many kind grants of tracts you have sent from time 
 to time, since December last, and to assure you all 
 have been widely scattered, and in many cases grate- 
 fully received. I also enclose you a thank-offering 
 from a few friends of £7 10s., to help you forward 
 in your work. The silver and the gold are the 
 Lord's, and as such we cast it into His treasury. 
 
 "I hardly knew from what point to start to let 
 you know of my work since entering this field of 
 death and bloodshed. It has been an eventful, thrill- 
 ing, soul-trying time ; and yet in the midst of all, 
 much of the seed of the kingdom has been scat- 
 tered — seeing since the fourth of December last I 
 have given away — tracts, 52,000 ; Bibles, 622 ; Tes- 
 taments, 1,477; French Testaments, 770; Bibles, 32; 
 Italian Testaments, 4,300; Bibles, 200; Welsh, Rus- 
 sian, and German Testaments, 173; books for offi- 
 cers, 450. 
 
136 Gambling and Drunkenness. 
 
 " The work has now and then been pleasant, yet 
 seldom has a joyous heart been known, seeing so 
 much abounding iniquity and such an utter reck- 
 lessness to the things of eternity. You cannot think 
 what a vast wilderness of ungodliness our army is. 
 You cannot move a step without hearing that name, 
 dearer to you than all others, continually blas- 
 phemed. Gambling has been carried on in the hos- 
 pital, the camp, the trenches, to an amazing degree ; 
 and the curse of our country, drunkenness, is wide- 
 spread indeed. The sufferings of last winter were 
 not overdi-awn, nor was the lesson to be taught 
 ever learned. Judgment hung heavy on us, and it 
 passed away unheeded. The Lord had a few holy 
 witnesses in our army, but most of these were taken 
 away by death, the bullet, or removed to England. 
 No widespread blessing has ever descended, and 
 tens of thousands have passed to the judgment-seat. 
 The sins of our nation were punished in our army : 
 and a slumbering church started for a moment to 
 sink into a deeper sleep than before. Often when 
 ready to faint have I been sustained by the blessed 
 truth, ' All that the Father hath given shall come ; ' 
 and some measure of faith in the omnipotent power 
 of the Holy Ghost has revived the drooping heart, 
 and enabled me more urgently to present Christ and 
 Him crucified to dying men. Few have cared for 
 the soldier's soul ; an exception here and there with 
 joy may be made — but Popery and Puseyism have 
 had it much their own way. The means to meet 
 
War has no Sabbath. 137 
 
 the wants have been totally inadequate, and every 
 barrier has been thrust in the way of those that 
 would. Evangelism has met with little favor, and 
 Kome has plied her arts with untiring assiduity. 
 What has tended much to demoralize our army has 
 been the almost total extinction of the Sabbath. 
 The Crimea has, I may say, known no Sabbaths. 
 True it is, for a few minutes the form of parade-ser- 
 vice has been gone through, and the men instantly 
 hurried to fatigue. Let those who would like to see 
 what Britain would be without Sabbaths visit the 
 Crimea, and they will see the soul-destroying effects 
 of it. The poor soldiers long for it to recruit their 
 over-worked systems, but the demands of man can- 
 not afford it, and the ceaseless toil must go on. I 
 wish to draw a vail over much that I have seen in 
 the Crimea these ten months. The scenes witnessed, 
 and the dark pictures presented, often make the 
 blood run cold, and draw tears from the eyes. Sure 
 am I if it were really known at home by those who 
 know the value of thcK own souls, they could not 
 but cry, weep, pray, beseeching the Lord to open 
 the windows of heaven and pour down a great and 
 an abundant blessing. One cannot but admire the 
 calm endurance of our army, and stand amazed at 
 their contepapt of danger, and the unflinching bra- 
 very ever manifested ; and oh, how well it were if 
 a real deep and abiding awakening took place ! then 
 it would be bravery drawn from a right som*ce, and 
 endurance of suffermg the result of right principle. 
 
138 Work among the Sardinians. 
 
 Much prayer ought to be made for our neglected 
 army, for it is high time to know the real spiritual 
 state of it, and to awake out of sleep regarding it. 
 " You are aware, in the end of May, the Sardin- 
 ian army landed here. Hearing of its coming I had 
 sent for thousands of Italian Testaments, not know- 
 ing but the Lord would open a way for their distri- 
 bution. I began the work with much prayer, yet 
 in great fear and trembling. At first it went on 
 slowly. Many prejudices had to be removed, and 
 much wisdom to be evinced. Cholera broke out 
 among them, and many hundreds died. It soft- 
 ened them much; soon group after group called 
 on me for the Word, sometimes thirty in one day. 
 Since the 1st of June it has continued; one brought 
 his companion, and another his brother, till 1,500 
 have so visited me. I cannot give you any idea of 
 their eagerness to possess the Word. I have known 
 many come miles for it ; and never have I seen such 
 joy as they manifested while gazing on the precious 
 gift. Had I time it would be pleasing to me to 
 send you more details, for it has been a glori- 
 ous, cheering work. Time after time I have gone 
 through their camp, and seen some in little groups 
 reading it, others in their tent ; and in the hospital 
 nothing else is read. Many officers have visited me, 
 written me, or sent for Bibles ; and in some regiments 
 every officer, from the colonel downwards, has got a 
 copy, while most of the medical staff have also been 
 supplied. A spirit of earnest inquiry is at work 
 
Italy Opening to the Word. 139 
 
 with, some, and an apparently anxious desire to 
 know the truth by most. Wondrous are the ways 
 of God. Italy, loMg shut, is opening; Popery is 
 losing its power; the mask is being torn; light 
 thrown around; and who can tell the amount of 
 blessing the 4,700 copies of God's Word given to the 
 Sardinian army may be the means of accomplish- 
 ing ? It is touching to hear them say often, ' My 
 father, my mother, or my sisters, possess not this, 
 and if I return they shall have it.' Those that have 
 been invalided and sent home carried it with them ; 
 and, as they embarked, have held it up to me, say- 
 ing, 'This is my memorial of the 'Crimea.' The 
 work is still going on, and I expect, if the door is 
 still open, to circulate 1,000 more. Opposition was 
 at one time greatly threatened. A IMaynooth priest 
 in our army tried to stir the Sardinian priests against 
 the work, but ere his plans were fully mature he 
 fell sick, and had to leave. One thing is clear, Sar- 
 dinia is lost to the Pope, and every fresh bull ful- 
 minated is making the breach wider and wider. 
 Oh for living men for Italy to preach the everlast- 
 ing Gospel, and for the descent of the Holy Ghost 
 from on high to call the dead to life ! It presents a 
 glorious field. It is ripe for the harvest. Who 
 will enter in and raise the standard of the cross, so 
 long trampled in the dust; yea, buried under forms, 
 traditions, and soul-destroying ignorance? 
 
 "I cannot find time to tell you of the progress of 
 the truth in Turkey. The only ray of hope is in the 
 
140 The Crescent Waning. 
 
 'American Mission amongst the Armenians, wliich 
 is greatly prospering. The Turk is what he was. 
 There is no more opening of his mind to receive the 
 truth. His enmity to Christianity is as deep as ever, 
 and the effect produced by the presence of the Alhes 
 is bad indeed. As a nation tiiey are dying out ; evi- 
 dently doom is written on Mahomedanism, and it is 
 well. Gladly would I see the Crescent prostrate in 
 the dust, and a Christian state raised on the ruins. 
 The time is fast hastening on ; the night is pass- 
 ing ; the day breaketh. Soon the cry shall be heard 
 throughout earth's millions — 'Hallelujah! for the 
 Lord God omnipotent reigneth.' 
 
 "Wishing you all success, and seeking for you 
 much of the hallowing, humbling grace of the Eter- 
 nal Spirit, I am, in much haste, your affectionate 
 friend, 
 
 " Duncan Matheson." 
 
 From September till the winter set in he continued 
 his labors — not, however, without frequent interrup- 
 tions from sickness and prostration. " Many say, 
 rest; take things easier," he writes at this time. "1 
 cannot rest, for it is a mighty graceless army, and 
 needs most tremendous exertions. Oh that I might 
 be the means of saving souls ! " Much did he feel 
 the loss of Christian friends. " Captains Craigie, Vic- 
 ars, and Beaufort are gone. Lieut. Wemyss died on 
 his way to England, and has his grave in the waters 
 of the Bosphorus. I feel it much — keenly, deeply. 
 
Illness. 141 
 
 Oil liow cheap is life here ! You sorrow for one, for 
 many, and next day you sorrow for more, till the 
 mind gets quite hardened. ]\Iany talk of hundreds 
 dying as if it were nothing. Most look not into eter- 
 nity, and know not the value of souls. I often think 
 it is well I counted the cost ere coming here. I have 
 not been disappointed. It is useless to think of tri- 
 als, if the Lord prosper you in your Avork. 
 You and others fear for me. I alone fear not for 
 myself Am I not in the Lord's w^ork? Can any 
 thing happen without his permission? If I live, let 
 it be to his glory. If I die, may it be for his glory. 
 I am not my own. I know there is victory through 
 the blood of the Lamb ; and what after all is death ? 
 The entrance to eternal rest — the door to God's right 
 hand." 
 
 Again and again he is smitten down by tlie com- 
 bined effects of fatigue, exposure, and want of mate- 
 rial comforts. In a letter he says : " Since I last 
 wrote you I have known what it is to be laid low. 
 Indeed, when I wrote you I felt rather unwell, but 
 thought I should rally, as I have often done. I was 
 seized with violent diarrhoea, accompanied with fe- 
 ver, which continued nearly eight days, live of which 
 I was totally confined to bed. A few days after I 
 took ill my kind friends, Drs. Derriman and Brown, 
 pitched a tent for me at their hospital, and their at- 
 tention to me was unremitting. Through the mercy 
 of God, I am restored again, and in my own house, 
 and at my work. ]\Iany of the poor Sarduiians called 
 
142 Privations. 
 
 on me during my illness, and I had to liand them 
 copies of the Word of God from my bed. Indeed 
 every one was exceedingly kind. Most of those who 
 sought to labor are now either dead or left. The 
 doctors say I ought not to remain another winter 
 here on any account, as those exertions I have 
 through grace been enabled to make must recoil on 
 the system. This is in the Lord's hands." 
 
 His privations were often well-nigh past endur- 
 ance. Often had he suffered the gnawings of hun- 
 ger, till at length he lost his appetite entirely. 
 "How gracious the Lord is," he says in a letter to 
 his sister; "the last two days I had the delicious 
 pleasure of being hungry." Again, " I am getting 
 sorely out of clothes. Last week I got a present 
 of a new pair of boots sent from England. Next 
 day they were stolen. I had my last shirt on. I 
 could not find another ; but a staff doctor called, and 
 made me a present of one yesterday. So the Lord 
 provides." 
 
 At length his failing health compelled him to leave 
 the Crimea, and return to Scotland, where he arrived 
 about the end of the year. 
 
 After spending six weeks at home, he set out again 
 for the East, rejoicing, and counting himself more 
 highly honored than if he were the ambassador of 
 a king. His connection with the Soldiers' Friend 
 Society had ceased on his return home ; but, liber- 
 ally aided by the Countess of Effingham and others, 
 he went forth absolutely his own master, and with 
 
Stores for Distribution. 143 
 
 an eye single and full of light. Feeling assured that 
 he was called by the great Master to seize an oppor- 
 tunity such as might never recur, he girt up his loins, 
 and at once prayerful as well as self-reliant, cautious 
 as well as enthusiastic, he took his way to the scene 
 of his former labors and sorrows. 
 
 His stores of Christian Hterature for gratuitous 
 distribution were immense, varied, and judiciously 
 selected. Besides Bibles, tracts, and other books in 
 the several languages of the East, he carried with 
 him a considerable number of copies of the Shorter 
 Catechism with proofs, in Italian, under the title of 
 "Compendium of Christian Doctrine," and also Pa- 
 leario's "Benefits of Christ's Death," in the same 
 language. His own countrymen were not forgotten. 
 At Gibraltar, Malta, and almost everywhere a slow 
 lumbering voice would be heard asking, " Hae ye 
 ony Bibles wi' Psaums?" Knowing and sympathiz- 
 ing with the likings of his countrymen, he was fully 
 prepared to supply honest Sandy's want. 
 
 It may be worth while to notice that his services 
 were eagerly sought at this time by more than one 
 Missionary Society or Committee. The "Jews' Con- 
 version Committee " offered to " employ him as an 
 assistant missionary of the Committee at Constanti- 
 nople, at a salary of £150 a year." At the same 
 time the Free Church Colonial Committee desired to 
 secure his services for the East ; but fearing lest he 
 should be trammelled in his work, he declined every 
 offer, in order that he might be free to carry out his 
 
144 ■^^' Joh^i Bonar. 
 
 own peculiar mission in his own way. Dr. John 
 Bonar, Convener of the Colonial Committee, again 
 wrote him in noble, generous words of encourage- 
 ment. " You go," he writes, " to unfurl the Lord's 
 banner in the sight of assembled nations. You go 
 to breathe words of peace from the Prince of peace 
 amid the din of war. You go to sow the incorrupt- 
 ible seed of the Word, which liveth and abideth for- 
 ever, amid the very things which beyond all others 
 show the vanity and uncertainty of all earthly and 
 human things. You go to speak to men of their 
 souls and of eternity, in the midst of the very things 
 which may summon them to that eternity while you 
 yet speak. You go to give the word of life to those 
 to whom it is a sealed fountain at home ; and, in a 
 word, to do good to aU as you have opportunity. 
 Going on such an errand, and called to fulfil so im- 
 portant a mission, we bid you God speed." 
 
 LETTERS TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 " London, March 6th. 
 
 " I long much to get away. I have got every 
 thing for my mission I could desire. To-day I have 
 been at Beckenham. I have got forty copies of Cap- 
 tain Vicars' Life. Mr. Moody Stuart went to the 
 Edinburgh Bible Society, and got £25 for me for 
 French Bibles. Mr. Learmouth has paid for 1,000 
 Bibles for me." 
 
 "March 14th. 
 
 " At sea, off the Spanish coast. We are nearing 
 
Meeting Old Friends. 145 
 
 Gibraltar, and on getting ashore I expect to post 
 this letter for yon, that it may relieve any anxiety 
 yon may feel. . . . To be united to Jesns is the 
 one great thing. What is all else beside ? A dream 
 — a shadow — nothing. To-day I was led to think 
 of my awakening and after-life. What a miracle of 
 mercy it has all appeared. To be used at all by the 
 Lord is truly wonderful. Yea, it is all His grace — 
 His own peculiar dealing. I long for nothing more 
 than spiritual life. It seems to me, looking at the 
 work to be done and the greatness of eternal things, 
 as if I had not yet really begun to live. What an 
 amount of time have I lost. How little it has been 
 really occupied for the Lord. How little accom- 
 plished. Life, life, the endless life of grace, is all I 
 
 need, and all I want It is difficult 
 
 to write with the motion of the vessel. We speed 
 on our voyage. Such is life. Yes, we are passing 
 along. How soon shall it be all done here." 
 
 After touching at Malta, where his soul was vexed 
 at the sight of the Popish mummeries of Good Friday, 
 he reached Constantinople on the 31st March. Here 
 he began the work of Scripture distribution at the 
 Sardinian Hospital at Yenikoi, where there is a great 
 rush on the part of the Italian soldiers to obtain copies 
 of the Word of God. Doctors, officers, and men are 
 waiting for him, and their joy is great on seeing their 
 old friend with his precious stores. Day after day 
 he passes, and the work seems to grow. 
 10 
 
146 Return to the Crdmea. 
 
 He again proceeds to the Crimea. 
 
 "Crimea, June 16th. 
 "I do not anticipate staying long in the Crimea. 
 All will depend on my entrance amongst the Kussian 
 soldiers. In all my previous journeys the Lord has 
 graciously prospered me, and I hope in this I shall 
 be able to sing the same song, and talk of the same 
 goodness. Since my arrival it has been an inces- 
 sant whirl. I would I could get rest! But it cannot 
 be. The doors are too open, and the readiness to 
 receive so great, that it must be "now or never." 
 I expect a thousand French Bibles soon from Lon- 
 don. I have already given above five thousand 
 copies of the Word in all languages. Oh for the 
 breath from on high ! My heart is set on the Lord. 
 I love his service. I seek grace to glorify Him. 
 Soon all will be done. It is passing away." 
 
 In the arduous work of Scripture distribution in 
 the Sardinian army he received no small help from 
 an Italian priest, who had been favorably impressed 
 by the dying testimony of his nephew Paolo, a young 
 soldier converted by reading a copy of the New Tes- 
 tament given him by Mr. Matheson. When coun- 
 selled by his uncle to confess, Paolo replied that he 
 had confessed his sins to Jesus Christ, and having 
 received forgiveness, he needed not to confess to 
 man. His beautiful death touched the heart of the 
 priest, who appears to have been a quiet, kind- 
 hearted man. 
 
opposition of Priests. 147 
 
 Early in 1856 some of the Sardinian officers had 
 written to the principal newspaper in Turin, and 
 challenged the priests to come to the Crimea, if they 
 dared, and stop the circulation of the Scriptm-es. 
 On this an accomplished Jesuit was sent, who on his 
 arrival threatened to have the fellow hanged who 
 was, contrary to all law and order, spreading heresy 
 and Bibles among the good soldiers of Italy, and the 
 children of the Pope. Matheson providentially dis- 
 covered the Jesuit and his scheme, and informed 
 certain officers (his friends), who outwitted the priest 
 and he was obliged to sneak away as he came. 
 
 One day he found his spiritual stores exhausted. 
 A ship with a fresh stock of books was seen for days 
 in the offing; but stormy weather prevented all ac- 
 cess to the vessel. Becoming impatient he got a 
 boat, manned by several stout Aberdonians, and 
 taking the tiller himself, he put off to the ship. In 
 the face of a tremendous sea they endeavored to 
 make way to the vessel ; and when all but baffled, 
 the missionary, in his bluff, hearty style, cheered 
 them on saying, "Eow, boys, row; I'll, may be, tell 
 this yet on the Castle-gate of Aberdeen." They suc- 
 ceeded in reaching the vessel, got the books, and 
 returned to the harbor in safety. 
 
 In the report of the Society for Promoting Chris- 
 tian Knowledge, Mr. Matheson, in reference to his 
 work among the Sardinian soldiers, says : "My house 
 at Terrikoi was literally besieged, and day after day 
 I had to return to Constantinople for fresh supplies. 
 
148 Soldiers Seeking Bibles. 
 
 On the retTirn of tlie steamer many were awaiting 
 me on the qnay, and sometimes all my books were 
 gone before I could reach the Locanda. Many fresh 
 invalids, scarcely able to walk, applied to me there ; 
 and instead of any opposition being thrown in my 
 way by those in command, I Avas greatly aided by 
 them ; indeed they were the first to ask for Bibles. 
 
 In six days I had given away 500 
 
 Bibles — 46 of these to ofiicers. At Terrikoi I did 
 not offer one copy ; all were asked for ; and pleas- 
 ing indeed it was to bestow it on one and another 
 and another, who remarked, ' I was robbed of mine 
 at Milan;' or, 'I have long desired one to take 
 home, seeing that m my distant village it cannot 
 be found.' 
 
 "The work being completed there, I hastened to 
 the Crimea ; and if the interest at Terrikoi was great, 
 it was far transcended by that manifested on my 
 arrival here. Soon the object of my mission ran like 
 wildfire through the camp, and singly, in couples, in 
 groups, yea, in masses, I was visited. In one day 
 / seven hundred thus came to me, and were supplied. 
 Ofiicers of all grades called for Bibles ; and I have 
 in my possession very many letters sent me by some 
 of them in higli standing for the Word. It was per- 
 fectly agonizing to have to send away hundreds 
 without it; and I have known soldiers Avalk six 
 miles, four or five times in succession, for Bibles. 
 Now and then small supplies arrived, and many, in 
 the very act of embarking, came running breath- 
 
Expressions of Gratitiide. 149 
 
 lessly for that which to them had now become ' more 
 precious tlian gold.' The new edition was indeed 
 the more highly valued; and many were the expres- 
 sions of gratitude sent to friends in England for the 
 noble gift. Had I had ten times the number they 
 could have been distributed, as over and over again, 
 when all were gone, many, I hear, offered all they 
 had for a copy. And surely it is pleasing to think 
 of 1,000 Testaments and 674 Bibles of this edition 
 being amongst them, and now in Piedmont. Of 
 the 674 Bibles distributed, 250 were given to officers 
 who called for them. 
 
 " A nobler army than that of the Sardinians can- 
 not be found. Many, very many of them, are men 
 of great intellect ; and it is no unusual thing to meet 
 with men in the ranks who are classical scliolars, 
 and who would adorn any society in any country 
 m the woi^d. They have left this land for the land 
 to which they so fondly cling — and whose emanci- 
 pation from spiritual thraldom they long to see fully 
 consummated — loved by all, and with an affection 
 deep-seated and sincere. What most gladdens the 
 heart is, that few return home witliout the book of 
 God, the record of eternal life, the Gospel of Christ, 
 In faith we look for mighty results. Piedmont is 
 rising among the nations. She has taken a noble 
 stand. Let but the Word of God be scattered there 
 in rich abundance, in copies of the faithful version 
 of Diodati, the only translation, save in a few in- 
 stances, I have ever been asked for ; nor let it ever 
 
150 Cossack Affection. 
 
 be forgotten that they, and they only, are free whom 
 the truth makes free." 
 
 At length his work was finished in the Crimea. 
 One result was that eighteen thousand copies of the 
 Word of God were carried into priest-ridden Italy 
 in the knapsacks of the soldiers. He was sent to 
 read the Scriptures to his own countrymen, which 
 he did, and at the same time sent a host of Scripture- 
 readers into the dominions of the Pope. 
 
 After the proclamation of peace, the Eussian sol- 
 diers came freely into the camp of the Allies. Our 
 missionary's heart was stirred anew : a fresh field pre- 
 sented itself; he was not slow to embrace the oppor- 
 tunity; and he met with no small encouragement 
 among the Eussians. Sometimes he was awakened 
 at the dawn of day by a Cossack on his shaggy 
 steed, come to beg a copy of the New Testament. 
 "My friends the Cossacks," he says in" a letter, 
 "showed me much kindness, and I had to submit 
 once and again to the embrace of Eussian soldiers, 
 smelling strongly of onions ! " The beautiful mon- 
 astery of St. George, situated on a high perpendic- 
 ular rock on the sea-side between Balaklava and 
 Kamiesch, he found occupied by seventeen monks, 
 with their superior. Thither he repaired with a bag 
 of Eussian New Testaments, and, with the assistance 
 
 of his friend Dr. C , presented each of the monks 
 
 with a copy, which they received most gratefully, 
 and with earnest request for the entire Bible. The 
 missionary, as he passed from cell to cell, offered 
 
Departure of the Allied Armies. 151 
 
 fervent prayer that God would bless each and all of 
 those peace-loving dwellers in St. George with the 
 saving knowledge of His glorious name. 
 
 It was a touching sight to behold, as oui* mission- 
 ary did, the former dwellers returning to seek in 
 vain their once happy homes. So changed was 
 every thing by the desolation of war, that often did 
 the poor people, on looking around upon the scene 
 of their former habitations, lift up their voices and 
 weep ; and my reader will not marvel when I tell 
 him that the tender-heai-ted man of God wept with 
 them. 
 
 The allied armies took their way back to the set- 
 ting sun. Our missionary waited till almost the 
 last man had embarked. "Going to the top of a 
 hill, I looked abroad upon the desolate scene. Miles 
 of huts were left standing without a solitary occu- 
 pant. Not a human voice was to be heard. Here 
 and there a Russian might be seen prowling through 
 the deserted camp. On my right lay Inkermann and 
 the beautiful valley of the Tchernaya, with the Rus- 
 sian cavalry grazing on its field of battle. A little 
 beyond, in sweet repose, was spread out the plain 
 of Balaklava, scene of heroic daring unsurpassed in 
 the world's history. Sebastopol reposed in calm 
 beauty, rendered more touching by its ruins. Fur- 
 ther off the Black Sea looked in the rays of the set- 
 ting sun like a mirror of glory. Wherever I turned 
 my eye the hill-sides were covered with graves, and 
 every ravine was like a charnel-house. With burst- 
 
152 At 'Constanti7iople. 
 
 ing heart and streaming eyes I thought of the many 
 friends I had lost, and the myriads of broken hearts 
 and bereaved homes far away. All alone I went to 
 ' take my farew^ell look of Vicars' and Hammond's 
 graves. Thought upon thought, quicker than the 
 lightning, flashed through my mind as I said to my- 
 self, What an army shall arise from these graves on 
 that great day ! Each spot will be instinct with life. 
 What a different scene from that once witnessed 
 here, when man girt on his armor to meet man, then 
 fought and Conquered, or laid them down to die! 
 These men will rise from the dust of death to face 
 not man but God. At the blast of the archangel's 
 trump the sleeping warriors shall awake. But what 
 an awaking to those who were wrapped in a Christ- 
 less shroud and laid in a hopeless grave ! And how 
 shall the dead in Christ arise with joyous songs of 
 triumph as they shout, ' death, where is thy sting ? 
 grave where is thy victory?' They shall mount 
 up 'to meet the Lord in the air; and so shall they 
 ever be with the Lord.'" 
 
 Eeturning to Constantinople in June, he plunged 
 into the work of Bible distribution among the French 
 and Turks. 
 
 "Constantinople, 3d July. 
 
 "Since my last I have been exceedingly busy. 
 
 My labors have been entirely amongst the French 
 
 and Turks. I gave 190 Bibles in one day to the 
 
 French, besides a large number of tracts and books. 
 
Work among the Turks. 153 
 
 I wish miicli silence kept regarding my work among 
 the Turks, though in some cases it has oozed out. 
 Scarcely a day passes without some Turkish officers 
 calling for the Bible. With Mr. M'Kutcheon I have 
 given 300 copies already. Since my arrival here 
 6,600 copies of the Scriptures, in all languages, have 
 
 been distributed What a picture our 
 
 poor countrymen give of Christianity here. You 
 hardly see any one di'unk but an Englishman or a 
 Scotchman; and English oaths are the first thing 
 many learn here. The cursed drink, how it ruins 
 the soul, how it hinders the Lord's work. The 
 Church at home countenances it, and the ruin of 
 thousands must lie at the door of professed Chris- 
 tians who support it and lend it their influence." 
 
 In the midst of his incessant and absorbing labors 
 his own vineyard was not neglected; nor was the 
 spiritual welfare of his friends and native place for- 
 gotten, as the following letter will show : — 
 
 " Constantinople, 5th July, 1856. 
 "My Dear Christian Friend: How quickly the 
 time rolls past. Its tide is ceaseless. Its current is 
 often unmarked. Its fllling up as it drifts along 
 presents a solemn history. Done with it aU, how 
 soon! Yes, done with it to enter eternity. The 
 prospect is often solemn, and well-nigh makes, in 
 view of it, the heart cease to beat and the soul to be 
 still. I am a deathless being ; I am marching to the 
 world of sphits ; I shall soon be unclothed. Of that 
 
, 1 54 Recollections of Huntly. 
 
 world I know but little. The certainty of its being 
 mine to spend my forever with Jesus is my only 
 concern. Lord, more grace ! more grace ! more 
 grace ! that the thought of this may swallow up 
 all others. Make me to feel the gilded things of 
 earth nothing, and lead me to see a glory in the 
 things of holiness surpassing in brightness, splen- 
 dor, and endurance all else besides. 
 
 " Five months have passed since I took farewell 
 of Huntly, the scene of many a sorrow, the field of 
 many a conflict, the spot of glimpses and of sweet- 
 est communion. When, oh when, shall the day of 
 visitation appear ? When shall the clouds break ? 
 When shall the pall of death that has hung so long 
 above them be rolled away ? Lord, soon ! soon ! 
 soon ! Li memory 1 look at the blanks that have 
 been made — sad blanks for us certainly. One saint 
 after another has been called away. Our little com- 
 pany has been lessened, and Death seems to say to 
 the rest of us in no doubtful voice, ' Be ready ! be 
 ready 1 be ready ! ' 
 
 "Since leaving I have been preserved in deaths 
 oft. Twice have I visited the Crimea, and endured 
 misery enough to crush the stoutest. That dark 
 scene I have bidden likely a last farewell. I can- 
 not tell you my feelings as I gazed from the ves- 
 sel's deck on the sun setting behind its hills, and 
 casting its retiring rays on its rugged shore. I had 
 escaped. His word had had free course. I was safe. 
 I longed for some one to help me to praise, for I 
 
Hcart-scarcJiiiig. 155 
 
 could not. Alas! I still earned a diseased soul, a 
 corrupt heart; and hour by hour well may I say, 
 'If I had only hope in this life, I were of all men 
 the most miserable.' I need no uncommon trials to 
 keep me lowly. I need much grace to keej) me at 
 his feet. Daily do I get deeper and deeper discov- 
 eries of my own heart, and the past seems to have 
 only been a mere touching of the edge — a mere 
 glance at the surface. I would often seek to hide 
 in some desolate wilderness, and there seek to cry 
 for the only thing I need — mercy ! mercy ! mercy ! 
 I hope it is better with you. How well to be at his 
 feet. How well to be soured of earth. How well to 
 he shut lip to salvation through Jesus. Weak as this 
 hope of mine often is, I cannot yield it. It has out- 
 lived many a storm; it has upheld me in furious 
 tempests ; it has twinkled in solemn, trying hours. 
 A religion of reality how rare. Far clearer than be- 
 fore I see the current religion hollow and insecure. 
 It is the fruit of no trial, the result of no divine fire, 
 the product of no omnipotent power. The spark 
 shall go out at last. Thy searching, God, give 
 me. Thy work let it be mine. I would seek to 
 find my all in Thee. To find our all in God, how 
 high the thought ! how exalting the prospect ' how 
 humbling the immense distance from its posses- 
 sion! One day it may come. The night shall 
 cease. What is impossible with God ? Alas ! that 
 this fickle heart of mine should ever wander away. 
 Alas! that it should ever seek at the cisterns what 
 
1 56 Constantinople. 
 
 it can only find in the fountain. Pray for me. You 
 can have no concejotion of the state of this city. I 
 never walk its crowded streets or look on the dark 
 cypresses marking the place of sepulture, but I sigh 
 and am sad. It lies heavy on me. One day it shall 
 be the Lord's. Little is doing, and things seen per- 
 sonally are very different from what is seen through 
 reports at a distance. 
 
 " To all the friends I send my Christian love and 
 
 affection. Mrs. F seems often as if with me. 
 
 Is poor M , or I , or B yet fleeing from 
 
 the wrath to come? H , M , C , all, I 
 
 hope, remember me. How precious time is here. 
 I often long for the rest of one hour, but I cannot 
 find it. May the grace of the Lord Jesus rest on 
 you. Uprightness of heart and integrity of soul I 
 feel I need much. What a place integrity has in the 
 Word! Divine leading and integrity go together. 
 Surely, one day we shall sing in the heights of Zion. 
 What hinders it? We deal with an unchanging 
 God. I hope to hear soon from you. In much 
 haste. 
 
 "Yours in Christian bonds, 
 
 "Duncan Matheson." 
 
 "Constantinople, 16th July, 1856. 
 
 "I have very lately bidden the Crimea and all 
 
 its many scenes and trials farewell. Scarcely one 
 
 soldier, Englisli, French, or Sardinian, is left in it. 
 
 A few connected with the commissariat may be ; of 
 
Exodus of the Tartars. 157 
 
 the line not one. The winding up was a scene of 
 constant bnstle and mnch hilarity. iVll were glad 
 to be off, and the cheers of the soldiers were much 
 heartier on leaving than on entering. 
 
 "I was witness of many touching scenes, but the 
 saddest of all was the exodus of the Tartars. Such 
 a scene I never witnessed. The old men raised 
 their hands and wept as they took their last look 
 from the vessel's deck, and the poor women buried 
 their faces in their hands, scarce daring to cast a 
 look upward. Many of our soldiers I saw deeply 
 affected; and yet the great mass of the Tartars 
 thanked God that they had the prospect of getting 
 from under Russian oppression, and smoked, laughed 
 and chatted as if nothing was wrong. They are a 
 poor race, and strong in their afiection for Mahom- 
 edanism, much stronger than many of the Turks 
 are. I fear a strange tale may yet have to be told 
 of them under Turkish rule, and breathing the air, 
 the deadly tainted air, of the Dobrudscha. 
 
 " My object in going to the Crimea w_as accom- 
 plished. I had been asked to come, carrying the 
 Word of Life to the Sardinians. My arrival was 
 known to a few, and soon it ran as wildfire through 
 the camp. In one day seven hundred soldiers and 
 officers visited me, asking for Bibles; and ere the 
 last soldier had left the scene of their trials and tri- 
 umphs I had given 2,347 Italian Bibles, 1,230 Italian 
 Testaments, and upwards of 3,400 books and tracts. 
 I did not offer one copy, I did not present one tract. 
 
158 A False Story. 
 
 All were asked; and 250 officers of all ranks either 
 called or wrote for Bibles. It was all done in open 
 day. It was known to thousands. There was no 
 disguise, and no efforts to proselytize. They asked 
 for God's Word — who would withhold it? They 
 had it; and pleasing is the fact, that 18,000 copies 
 of it have entered Piedmont during the last twelve 
 months. Noble men, they deserve well at Britain's 
 hand ! They entered the struggle when all looked 
 dark and gloomy. They have fought well, and sus- 
 tained the honor of Italy ; and their conduct has been 
 such as to call fortli universal admiration. I never 
 met a republican in their army. All love their king 
 and country, and long — how evidently long no other 
 can tell — for the emancipation of fair yet down-trod- 
 den Italy. 
 
 " A story once appeared in our leading journal, 
 copied into all the other papers, of a complaint and 
 prohibition being made against the giving of the 
 Bible. We believe the then correspondent (not Mr. 
 Eussell, whose accounts I have ever seen truthful and 
 correct) was deceived. No prohibition was ever ut- 
 tered ; and if complaints were made, they were not 
 heard of The whole army were implicated. What 
 could be done ? Generously they were left to their 
 own convictions, and General Delia Marmora and 
 our own generals deserve the thanks of all who love 
 and value the Bible. To the friends in and around 
 Huntly I send my hearty thanks for generously help- 
 ing me in this work.. 
 
The Wrongs of Italy. 159 
 
 " I am no politician; but I cannot but feel that a 
 solemn time is at hand regarding Italy. It is im- 
 possible to keep such a noble people long in slavery, 
 or under the iron heel of despotism; and I know 
 there is not one man in the Sardinian army but has 
 felt anxious for the time when he shall be called to 
 the field to unfurl the banner, and strike the blow. 
 They have learned much in this struggle. They 
 have been inured to hardship, and trained to the 
 vicissitudes of a camp ; and in the next war of Ital- 
 ian independence, we believe Piedmont shall be the 
 rallying-point round which all Avill cluster. States- 
 men stand aghast at the wrongs of Italy, and know 
 not how to interfere. Its regeneration is a question 
 sun'ounded by many difiiculties; yet the solving 
 will one day come. Naples has her crowded pris- 
 "ons; the ftiir plains of Lombardy are trodden by the 
 Austrian vassal ; Tuscany seeks to stifie the truth ; 
 Kome is kept by the soldiery of France. The ques- 
 tion of Italy is closely connected with the East. If 
 war should arise there, the nations of Eui'ope will 
 be more or less involved. Then comes the time for 
 Kussia to strike ; for no one here believes her preten- 
 sions are finally laid aside, and are led to feel that 
 Turkey, drained and inert, can form no bulwark 
 against either Eussian diplomacy or arms, if left 
 alone in the conflict. 
 
 "No one can credit the hatred existing between 
 the Muscovite and Turk. Their enmity to us will 
 soon subside : for in the Crimea I had much inter- 
 
i6o State of Turkey. 
 
 course with the Eussian soldiery, having had the 
 privilege of giving them 480 copies of the Scrip- 
 tures. These I found them very ready to receive, 
 and many were the expressions of their gratitude. 
 In few countries is the censorship of the press so 
 strict as in Southern Russia, and there is well-nigh 
 a total lack of literature of any kind. In the city 
 of Simpheropol, there is not one bookseller's shop, 
 and not a page of literature is sold. For years not 
 a copy of the Russian Scriptures has entered Odessa, 
 and the Russian prisoners who had received them 
 were deprived of them on landing. From all quar- 
 ters they came visiting ruined Sebastopol, and it 
 was often painful to see them looking in blank as- 
 tonishment and sorrow over the place where their 
 houses had been, and trying to fix the boundary of 
 their lot. There seems a servility in the Russian 
 soldier not to be found in the English or French. 
 AVhat may be done, now the Crimea is their own 
 again, no one can tell. It is supposed tourists will 
 have no liberty of inspecting, and the terms of the 
 treaty may not be carried strictly out. 
 
 " As to Turkey, its real condition is not known. 
 Its exchequer is exhausted — its resources unexplored 
 — its army much wasted — its progress just where it 
 was. They are generally far from grateful for the 
 help we have rendered, and feel the same contempt 
 for the Giaour as before. The prejudices of some of 
 the higher classes are exploded, and some have got 
 the length of thinking attempts at reformation are 
 
Intcrcotirse with the French. i6i 
 
 necessary. At home things regarding Turkey have 
 been much exaggerated. The promulgation of the 
 new law has excited high hopes, and been hailed 
 with joy, as well it may. But who is to carry it 
 out? Turkey makes laws and then is powerless in 
 putting them into effect. With many it is a ques- 
 tion if she really means it ; but we believe the time 
 is drawing on for great reforms, and sweeping 
 changes cannot be made in any nation in a day. 
 Good laws may be made, but a people needs to be 
 created to value them, or carry them out. Christian- 
 ity for Turkey is only what can save her, and give 
 her a place among the nations of Europe far greater 
 than she can ever have under the reign and rule of 
 the Koran. Serious disturbances are apprehended, 
 but they may come to nothing ; and Britain will, we 
 hope, demand the carrying out of those reforms to 
 obtain which the flower of our army have found 
 graves in a foreign soil, many of our homes have 
 been left desolate, and our resources drained. 
 
 "I have had much intercourse with the French 
 since March here and in the Crimea, having along 
 with a friend given them 2,000 copies of the Scrip- 
 tures, in very many cases asked. In some cases 
 they came for miles for them. Glad are they to get 
 home. The East has lost its attractions, and in their 
 real character they look and long for something new. 
 They have extended their influence immensely in 
 the East, and one would often think it is dominant. 
 No effort has been spared for its becoming so, and 
 11 
 
1 62 opening Doors. 
 
 the study of the French language in the Turkish 
 colleges has greatly helped it forward. A little time 
 will be necessary ere the bearing of things can be 
 clearly seen. Every thing at present is at a stand- 
 still, and of trade there is little. On Saturday the 
 English sovereign was less in value than it has been 
 for years. 
 
 "I had intended to give you an account of the 
 missionary operations here, but I have not time 
 at present. Doors are opening on every hand. A 
 spirit of inquiry is abroad. The sleep of many years 
 has been broken by the stirring events of the war. 
 Every thing is in motion. Now is the time for the 
 Word to be scattered, and to let the nations that 
 have so long been in darkness have the sound of 
 the glorious Gospel, whose message is 'Peace on 
 earth, and good will to men.' 
 
 "Duncan Matheson." 
 
 In Constantinople he devoted much of his time 
 and attention to the French, by whom he was 
 treated with the greatest consideration and kind- 
 ness. When he went to Sweet Waters, where a 
 French division was stationed, the officer in com- 
 mand ordered out his men, and when they had 
 fallen into rank, the missionary was permitted to 
 go the round and present each man with a New 
 Testament, tract, or book. 
 
 His heart was set on doing something for the 
 Turks. In the ancient temple of IMahomedanism 
 
Attacked by a Mob. 163 
 
 chinks were opening through which silvery rays of 
 Gospel truth were quietly stealing. Matheson, hav- 
 ing picked up a little Turkish, used to frequent the 
 burial-places, and wait there for hours, praying that 
 God would open some Mahomedan mourner's heart 
 to hear the truth concerning one Jesus. Never did 
 the prayer remain unanswered. Some sorrowing 
 one, standing or sitting by the grave of their dearly- 
 beloved, would listen to the stranger telling in his 
 few blundering Avords about Him who is the resur- 
 rection and the life. 
 
 This indiscriminate distribution of the holy Scrip- 
 tures was not unattended by the evils of waste and 
 abuse. Yet there were not wanting instances of 
 good springing out of this very evil. A Turkish 
 lady one day received from her grocer a parcel 
 wrapped in a leaf of the Bible. The leaf Avas read, 
 an interest in the strange book was awakened, and 
 the lady sent a member of her household to inquire 
 if the merchant could send her another leaf of the 
 same kind. All that remained of the precious vol- 
 ume was carried home, and who can tell but the 
 interest awakened may have deepened, under the 
 Spirit's teaching, into faith and salvation? 
 
 An intense longing to put a copy of God's Word 
 into the hands of a pasha or some other Turk of 
 influence was gratified in a curious way. One day, 
 when distributing the Scriptures at Sweet Waters, 
 he was attacked by an infuriated mob of Greeks, 
 whose religious antipathies had been thorouglily 
 
164 The Pashas Apology. 
 
 aroused. To escape their wrath he took refuge in 
 a ship. Next day a gentleman, brother of a cer- 
 tain pasha, called at his lodgings to convey the re- 
 grets of the great man at the ill-treatment the mis- 
 sionary had received from the Greeks, at the same 
 time requesting for the pasha's use a copy of the 
 Word of God. My readers will not forget that at 
 this time an Englishman was held in peculiar honor 
 by the Turks, hence the pasha's apology. The mis- 
 sionary, of course, did not fail to send the book of 
 God to the pasha, nor did he forget to praise God 
 for this answer to his prayer. On the Greeks he 
 sought revenge by endeavors to disseminate among 
 them the glad tidings of great joy that are for all 
 people ; but his success was small. One family of 
 Greeks appeared to derive benefit from his labors ; 
 but for the most part the way was not prepared for 
 the entrance of the Word of God among them. 
 
 As winter drew near he prosecuted his enterprise 
 with redoubled energy. Daily did he take his stand 
 at the Golden Horn, and distribute his books to the 
 thousands crossing to the other side on their way to 
 all parts of Asia. "The work gets harder," he writes. 
 "The Turks and Greeks get more prejudiced. Yet 
 the Lord reigneth, and all his purposes shall be ac- 
 complished. . . . How soon all wanderings here 
 shall close. Life's sand is running fast. We hear 
 the summons daily. Oh to hear it indeed, and pre- 
 pare to meet God ! I look daily forward to this, to 
 be with Him and like Him." 
 
Illness. 165 
 
 "Constantinople, Nov. 5th. 
 " Since I last wrote you I have been very ill and 
 confined, bnt I am better, and at work again. I was 
 so weak that one day when I tried to rise I fell, and 
 have got one eye bruised. I suppose I must have 
 fainted." 
 
 "Constantinople, Nov. 18th. 
 "I feel weak indeed, and have had medical advice. 
 There is no danger, but I must cease work, and when 
 called to do so I am like a chained lion. The total 
 lack of any comfort has been much against me. 
 Many a day almost without food, and have had to 
 be contented with food of any kind. . . . Since 
 March I have been enabled to distribute nearly 
 10,000 copies of the Scriptures — 1,000 of them to 
 Turks — and 60,000 tracts and books in all languages. 
 The value of all has been about £1,000, and truly I 
 may say the Lord has provided. ... I had a 
 letter from Piedmont lately. The work is going on 
 nobly there. Perhaps I may get 'The Knowledge 
 of Sin,' by William Burns, translated into Armenian. 
 Dr. Dwight is examining it at present. Truly he is 
 a godly man." 
 
 Entirely prostrated, he lay for some time at the 
 point of death. During this period he was tenderly 
 watched by his friend Mr. M'Kutcheon, of the Jew- 
 ish Mission, and to him, under God, he believed he 
 owed his life. As soon as he was able to rise, he 
 settled his affairs and left Constantinople for Egypt. 
 
1 66 To Egypt, 
 
 From Egypt he sailed for Italy, where he visited his 
 friends : 
 
 Italy, 1857. 
 
 "My Dear Sir: In my last I gave you some ac- 
 count of matters in the East, which I hope you duly 
 received. Since leaving Constantinople I have vis- 
 ited Egypt, ascended its pyramids, drunk of its river, 
 and gazed with deepest horror on the spiritual state 
 of its inhabitants. I have heard the groans of the 
 oppressed Sicilians, and seen the gloomy prisons of 
 Naples, its blinded devotion and its down-trodden 
 condition. I have walked the streets of Eome, ad- 
 mired its palaces, entered its catacombs, once the 
 refuge of oppressed Christianity, and talked amidst 
 its ruins to its enslaved people, and every day has 
 convinced me we know little of Popery at home, and 
 deal far too lightly with such a soul-destroying sys- 
 tem. As it is in Italy no one can portray, no mind 
 can fully conceive, and no language can express. 
 Every eye is turned towards it, and every Christian 
 heart utters the cry, 'How long, Lord?' In Sicily 
 the people sigh for freedom, but still cling to the 
 system that has chained them. It is a fair and lovely 
 land, but it is blighted. The number of priests in it 
 is incredible, and the education of the young is wholly 
 in their power. I saw here a brazen head of John the 
 Baptist in a charger carried from door to door, every 
 one placing money in the charger; and in many 
 streets you meet a man demanding money, having 
 
Rome and Naples. 167 
 
 on a box carried for the purpose the words, 'For 
 the souls in purgatory.' 
 
 ' ' At Naples it is worse. On e veiy church you read, 
 ' Indulgences granted ; ' and you see at every step 
 men and women prostrated before the picture of the 
 Virgin ; and at one column raised in her honor it is 
 written, ' An indulgence of fifty days granted to all 
 praying here.' I saw on the Grand Square more 
 than one thousand people prostrate before the Host, 
 and asked one what it was. To which he replied, 
 ' It is Jesus Christ.' Terrible is the condition of 
 Naples. Terror is marked on every face; and I 
 could hardly get one to speak to me, because every 
 third person in the streets is a spy. Many shops are 
 shut, and you feel the very atmosphere oppressive ; 
 whilst cannon is to be seen pointing down its prin- 
 cipal thoroughfares. Naples is a land where few 
 Bibles have yet entered, and the people are deeply 
 sunk in ignorance, and bound to Komanism more 
 than any other people in Italy. Political and spir- 
 itual freedom are the results of Protestantism, and 
 go linked together. Naples knows neither. . . . 
 Bibles! there are no Bibles in Eome. I entered 
 every bookseller's shop in it, and could only find 
 two — one in Latin, the other in Italian. Preach- 
 ing ! there is none in Rome. The glory of the cross 
 is darkened, and the way of salvation through it is 
 never proclaimed. You have relics — Madonnas, 
 holy altars, indulgences, by thousands, and masses 
 for living and dead ; but no pointing to the Lamb, 
 
1 68 Rome and Romanism. 
 
 no inviting of weary sinners; no justification by 
 faith. Christian hterature ! truly you may say there 
 is none. You have heaps of lying legends of lives 
 of saints, of flimsy novels ; but the Index Expurga- 
 torius excludes all works worth the reading; and 
 sprinkling Avith holy Avater is considered more safe 
 than unloosing the mind and giving scope to the 
 intellect. Freedom! ah, it is not in Eome. Ask 
 the inquisitors, and they will tell the price of seek- 
 ing it, and as you ask, listen to the music coming 
 from the Pope's dragoons. Commerce, trade, agri- 
 culture — alas ! a withering blight is on the land, and 
 the fairest portion of God's earth is left untilled. So 
 true is it, that wherever Popery has most potently 
 maintained herself, there life has become extinct, 
 and prosperity and morality have disappeared, as if 
 under the influence of some mysterious malediction. 
 The worship of Italy is the worship of Mary — pic- 
 tures of Mary — statues of Mary — churches to Mary 
 — columns to Mary — songs to Mary — prayers to 
 Mary, in every spot. Idolatry ! where is it, if you 
 see it not 'in Eome? Go to the church of Ara Coeh, 
 and there you will see a small image of Jesus, with 
 many kissing its feet, and crossing themselves before 
 it. Wait for a little. The priests take it up, enter 
 a coach, and drive — that the sight of it may cure 
 some dying person ! Yes. Startle not. The priests 
 told us it had performed many miracles; and the 
 people prostrating themselves before it is a proof 
 that they believe it. Common is it to see written 
 
Infidelity in Rome. 169 
 
 over many altars — ' Specially privileged ; ' ' For the 
 dead ; ' ' Every mass said at this altar frees a soul 
 from purgatory.' And in large gilded letters you 
 often read — ' Plenary indulgences granted by spe- 
 cial favor of the Pope.' Where is the Luther to cry 
 with trumpet-tongue, and proclaim the vicious na- 
 ture of such Pagan Christianity to its blinded devo- 
 tees, pointing them only to Him who is the Way, 
 the Truth, the Life ? Sadly deserted are the churches 
 of Eome, and most of the educated have become in- 
 fidels. They asked for bread, but got a stone. The 
 craving for something better could not be met ; for 
 the Gospel was buried, and Christ was not named. 
 It is the natural result of such training, and sad is 
 the account to be rendered by the authors of it. 
 Pleasing was it to go from all this to the gloomy 
 catacombs, and see engraved tombs of the early 
 Christians — the calm, sublime hopes which they en- 
 joyed! Simple are the inscriptions, yet what so 
 cheering? — 'In Peace;' 'In Christ.' Eome has 
 nothing there to favor one of her doctrines. They 
 knew them not. 
 
 "Need I tell you, Italy knows no Sabbaths. 
 Feast-days have more authority; and the people 
 look astonished when you tell them God has com- 
 manded all His day to be kept holy. It is their 
 day of greatest enjoyment. Every theatre is opened 
 in Rome ; and if any one had witnessed the Sabbaths 
 of the Carnivals now ended, they would go home 
 resolved to keep it inviolate, and be led to bless God 
 
I/O The Gospel in Italy. 
 
 they lived in a land where in great measure the 
 keeping of the Sabbath is known. In this matter 
 — and it is well it should be known — the Protes- 
 tants on the Continent — ministers and people, are 
 very lax. They do not look on it with the same 
 sacredness that we do. The evil effects of such 
 views daily appear, and almost universally our own 
 countrymen leave keeping of Sabbaths at home. 
 One fact is worth mentioning : I have never yet seen 
 one in Italy drunk, and during the days of the Car- 
 nival thousands met every day, 
 
 "And now you will be ready to ask. What is do- 
 ing in Italy for the spread of the truth, and how does 
 the work succeed? The question, for many reasons, 
 is difficult to answer. I can say nothing of Kome, 
 but that I believe many of the people would hail the 
 Bible, if it were put within their reach. Throughout 
 all Italy there is a preparation in the people's minds 
 for this, and in many instances far, far more. They 
 desire to see the Book which is kept from them. 
 Tens of thousands of them have their eyes open to 
 the evil of Papacy. This is well, but it goes no far- 
 ther. In the case of thousands — yea, millions, at- 
 tachment to the Romish religion, if not to Pope and 
 priests, is as strong as ever. Even in Piedmont this 
 is the case ; and in the case of others, here and there 
 saving conversion has followed the reading of the 
 Word through the divine blessing. This is espe- 
 cially true of Tuscany, where every effort is made 
 to keep it from them, and where the surveillance is 
 
TJie Word in Piedmont. 171 
 
 stricter — ranch stricter than ever it was before. Tns- 
 cany is the tool of Austria, and yet the work goes 
 on the more it is tried to crush it, and souls are born 
 to God. Here and there small companies meet for 
 worship, and in wondrous ways the truth finds en- 
 trance. Many are Protestants in name, though not 
 apparently savingly converted; but there are un- 
 doubted trophies of grace, and much, very much, to 
 cheer and encourage to prayer. I have no hesita- 
 tion in saying, if liberty were granted, thousands, 
 many thousands, would hail the Gospel, and the de- 
 mand for the Word would be so great it could hardly 
 be supplied. In Piedmont — the only free country in 
 Italy, and on which the hearts and affections of so 
 many are set — the work goes on in some places rap- 
 idly. We must now separate the political from the 
 spiritual. One party — ^the greatest — seek political 
 freedom, and others seek to know the truth. A re- 
 markable advance has been made. The Word is 
 finding entrance by thousands, and is read. Men 
 here and there, knowing the truth themselves, are 
 boldly declaring it, and the Lord is giving testimony 
 to the Word of his grace. One case has reached us 
 of the Bible given in the Crimea having been blessed. 
 A soldier brought one home, and gave it to a farmer 
 
 near A . He began to read it with his wife and 
 
 family, and all became deeply interested. His neigh- 
 bors also came to hear it read, and joined with the 
 farmer and his family in sending for a Waldensian 
 Evangelist ; and thus a small church is formed in 
 
172 TJie Light Risin^ 
 
 <i>' 
 
 the midst of a dark corner of Piedmont, which may 
 yet extend wider and wider, till many be embraced 
 in its fold. I do not know what may be the future 
 of Italy. I cannot say how soon revolution may 
 shake it from one end to another. I believe it is 
 not far distant. Endurance has its limits, and men 
 may be made slaves only for a time. The light is 
 beginning again to rise on it. Its progress we should 
 watch with fear and trembling, being neither too 
 sanguine nor depressed. We cannot estimate the 
 value of one soul. God has lighted a light — shaded 
 for a time it may be — but out it cannot be put, nei- 
 ther by popes nor princes — neither by the hres of 
 martyrdom nor the bolts of a prison. Our duty is 
 clear, our path open, our command plain. Prayer, 
 much prayer, must be made, and specially for God 
 to raise up men fitted to carry on his work, and in 
 their devoted, earnest, holy lives to exemplify the 
 doctrines they teach. We know his truth shall tri- 
 umph, and triumph gloriously, and that even now 
 the first streaks of light on the horizon are but the 
 prelude of the full flood of light which shall yet arise 
 on this sin-blighted world. 
 
 " Ever your affectionate friend, 
 
 "Duncan Matheson. 
 "Mr. P. Drummond." 
 
 "Turin, March 13th. 
 " I have not had a minute to write you till now, 
 for I have been intensely occupied. I arrived at 
 Genoa on the 6th, and remained three days. I could 
 
Among the Waldenscs. 173 
 
 hardly walk a step without soldiers running and 
 saluting me, etc. I had much joy in the presence 
 of some of them, and on meeting some English 
 friends. On Sabbath I addressed a meeting in the 
 Free Church, and felt greatly assisted. On Monday 
 I came here, and immediately started for the A¥al- 
 densian valleys. Yes, I have seen them, and truly 
 every spot is full of interest. At La Tor I visited 
 the college, church, and schools. What a simple, 
 intelligent people ! How can I tell you of the scenes 
 here ! It is like the march of a conqueror. I can- 
 not move a step without being accosted. Sixty sol- 
 diers have been round me in a circle at once. Hun- 
 dreds have shaken hands with me. Poor fellows! 
 they are deeply, deeply grateful. I feel a deep, very 
 deep, interest in them. To-day I have been in the 
 Parliament House with Mr. Milan, the Vaudois dep- 
 uty, and was much and deeply interested. Truly 
 freedom is here. Do forgive my brevity. Every 
 moment is occupied. I was in Florence since writ- 
 ing you, and escaped, though carrying eight copies 
 of the Word into it. This is a wonderful field, and 
 I expect much to be done here. The Lord has 
 helped me to set many things in motion since my 
 arrival. To Him be the praise." 
 
 In March, 1857, he brought his stay in Italy to a 
 close. This visit was in reality the accomplishment 
 of a great Christian work. He had been enabled to 
 make his mark on a vast number of the Italian offi- 
 
174 Return Home. 
 
 cers and soldiers. "The Sardinians' Friend" is not 
 yet forgotten ; and, while his memory is treasured in 
 many a brave heart, there can hardly be a doubt that 
 he was the divinely-chosen instrument of enshrining 
 the Word of God in the affections of thousands who, 
 but for his gigantic exertions, would have returned 
 to their native land to live and die in worse than 
 Egyptian darkness. That the fruit of this wide and 
 prayerful sowing of the seed, at the first blush of 
 Italy's spring, will be glory to God in the salvation 
 of many souls we cannot but believe. 
 
 Passing rapidly through France, he reached home 
 ere yet the sun of the northern summer had waxed 
 hot. To rest, to tell his story, and prepare for new 
 labors, needed a breathing-time. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 DAYS OF REVIVAL. 
 
 His native air speedily restored his health. Not 
 one day was wasted in needless rest. Often at this 
 period did he at public meetings tell his Crimean 
 story amidst torrents of tears ; but he always took 
 care, when the fountains of emotion were stirred, to 
 cast the bread of truth upon the waters, in the hope 
 of finding it after many days. Invited by the min- 
 ister of the Free Church at Insch, he occupied the 
 pulpit for the first time. Here he held the first in- 
 
In Cinnberland. ly^ 
 
 quirers' meeting, which was attended by a few, and 
 among the rest an old man who said, "I've come 
 that ye may search me weel. Oh, dinna scruple to 
 try me, as it wad be a fearfu' thing to be deceived 
 for eternity. Noo, sir, begin." "John," said the 
 evangelist, " do you love the Lord Jesus ? " "I 
 dinna doot that," was the reply, " but I wad like 
 mair." The old disciple was still inquiring. Dur- 
 ing his three months' labor at Insch several persons 
 were awakened. One of these afterwards became 
 an elder in a Free Church, and another, a young 
 woman, became the wife of a missionary, and was 
 instrumental in winning souls. 
 
 In October, 1857, he went to labor as an evange- 
 list in Whitehaven, at the request of a minister of 
 the Church of England, who was desirous of pro- 
 moting the spiritual welfare of his native place. Pie 
 found the soil of Cumberland stiff; but his labors 
 were not wholly in vain. It was a sowing-time 
 rather than a harvest. Then he began to preach 
 every day, a practice he followed throughout the 
 rest of his active ministry. "To this place," he says 
 in a letter, "I have almost done my duty. Surely, 
 if I go home I shall get a little rest. Best did I say ? 
 Nay, truly, whilst health is granted. The days pass 
 swiftly. Soon all will be gone. Since I came here 
 I have not got half an hour to take my dinner at a 
 time, and the door is widening on every hand." 
 
 Here he resorted agam to the press. When lying 
 at the point of death in the East, he had prayed that 
 
i;6 " The Herald of Mercy r 
 
 ten years might be added to his life, and vowed that 
 if spared he would publish a testimony for Christ. 
 The prayer was answered, and the vow duly per- 
 formed. The testimony for Jesus took the form of 
 a little monthly periodical, which he entitled, " The 
 Herald of Mercy." After much prayer he issued the 
 first number at the close of 1857. "I had no money 
 to advertise it with," he tells, " but I trusted in God, 
 and cried to Him to spread and bless it for his own 
 glory." Under his editorship it held on its way till 
 it reached a circulation of 32,000 a month. It was 
 declared by many to have been the herald of mercy 
 to their souls. Its aim was the awakening and con- 
 version of sinners. It was not designed or specially 
 adapted for the edification of saints, excepting so 
 far as it kept before the eye of believers the Avorth 
 of souls and the realities of the eternal world. Never 
 did the trumpet give a more certain sound than in 
 the mouth of " The Herald of Mercy." It recognized 
 nothing on earth but soiils: souls in sin, and souls in 
 Christ: souls going to heaven, and souls going to 
 hell. Every article, paragraph, and sentence, orig- 
 inal or selected, bore directly and plainly on the 
 great truths- — ruin, regeneration, and redemption. 
 The little messenger was owned of God, as a few 
 facts will show. 
 
 A stranger came to Mr. Matheson one day in Crieff, 
 and asked him if he remembered a " Herald of-Mer- 
 cy " with an article headed, " Quench not the Spmt." 
 "That," said he, " was the means of my conversion." 
 
The Harvest. 177 
 
 An English lady, resident in Constantinople, for 
 whose spiritual welfare much had been done in vain, 
 received from a friend a copy of the " Herald." The 
 reading of it resulted in her conversion. 
 
 A tradesman in Berwickshire one day finding a 
 fragment of paper on the floor, picked it up, and as 
 a matter of curiosity, began to read. It proved to be 
 part of the " Herald of Mercy," being a brief article, 
 headed, "Are you converted?" It was an arrow 
 from the King's own bow. Conversion followed. 
 
 Two young men stood side by side at an open-air 
 meeting. One of them held in his hand a copy of 
 " Special Herald," with hymns ; but while they sang 
 the eye of his companion wandered from the verses 
 to a little paragraph put in to fill a vacant corner. 
 It was enough : both eye and heart were fixed. The 
 little article spoke with divine power, and brought 
 him to Jesus' feet. The young man is now a min- 
 ister of the Gospel. 
 
 A herd-boy was sitting at the wayside, when some 
 one passing put a " Herald of Mercy" into his hand. 
 As he tended the cattle he read, was awakened, and 
 brought to Christ. He is now known as a devoted 
 follower of Christ. 
 
 Invited by Lady Pirrie, he went to Malvern in 
 the autumn of 1858, and labored there for a short 
 time. Here on the hill-side he held his first open- 
 air meeting, and felt he received a special call to 
 this kind of work in the blessing that attended the 
 service. Henceforth he gave himself to preaching 
 12 
 
178 His Marriage. 
 
 in the open air. By day, by night, beneath the 
 summer sun, out in the drenching rain or piercing 
 cold of winter, in the remote glen amidst the bleat- 
 ing of the sheep, at the sea-side, where the singing 
 of David's psalms mingles with the still more an- 
 cient harmonies of the great ocean, on the crowded 
 street, in the noisy fair, beneath the shadow of the 
 scaffold, in the face of the raging mob — everywhere, 
 in short, as far as in him lay, he strove to preach 
 Christ to perishing men. In this way his voice 
 reached many who otherwise would never have 
 heard the glad tidings of salvation. 
 
 From Malvern he retraced his steps to Cumber- 
 land, and for a while labored at Workington. Here 
 by invitation of the people he occupied the pulpit of 
 the Presbyterian Church, and combined the offices 
 of pastor and evangelist. His preaching excited no 
 ordinary interest. Crowds flocked to hear him, and 
 not a few were impressed. 
 
 On February 2d, 1859, he was married at Weston- 
 super-Mare to Miss Mary Milne, a Christian lady 
 whom he ever regarded as an invaluable gift be- 
 stowed upon him in answer to prayer. Not one day 
 was withdrawn from labor. Exuberantly social and 
 tenderly affectionate though he was, the winning 
 of souls was to him infinitely more than the most 
 endearing relationship or the most hallowed earthly 
 joy. " We'll get settled up yonder in the Father's 
 house," he said; "meanwhile let us work and win 
 souls." 
 
Expecting a Blessing. 179 
 
 In the spring of 1859 Mr. Matlieson returned to 
 Scotland, and took up his residence in the city of 
 Aberdeen. The great reHgious awakening of that 
 period was just beginning. Tidings of the work of 
 grace in America and Ireland stirred the hearts of 
 Christians, and many were in expectation of a sim- 
 ilar blessing. The spirit of grace and supplication 
 was poured down, and many a blessed scene was now 
 witnessed. The winter was indeed past, and the 
 time of the singing of birds come. The beginning 
 and progress of the work were everywhere char- 
 acterized by a real faith in the efficacy of prayer, 
 and the power that attended the testimony of Chris- 
 tians to Christ. In answer to prayer the treasured 
 petitions of years seemed to be granted in one day. 
 The simplest utterances of even babes in Christ were 
 instrumental in converting sinners. In fact, the tes- 
 tifying of believers and its effect was a marked feat- 
 ure of the work. In teaching, the truth is set forth 
 simply on its own merits. In preaching, there is an 
 authoritative, herald-like proclamation of the Gospel 
 in the King's name. In testifying, the speaker bears 
 witness to matters of fact of which he is personally 
 cognizant. The best preacher, doubtless, is teacher, 
 herald, and witness, all in one. But testifying has 
 its place and power. Many were saying, "Christ is 
 dead; Christianity is dead," when suddenly thou- 
 sands arose, and with one voice declared, "Christ is 
 not dead. He lives, and the proof is this. He has 
 saved us : He has raised to a new life us who were 
 
i8o Prcachinor at Abei^deen. 
 
 0> 
 
 dead in trespasses and sins." "The Lord gave tlie 
 word, and great was the company of those that 
 pubhshed it." 
 
 It is worthy of remark that the work began, at 
 least in its more striking manifestations, in the fish- 
 ing village of Ferryden, and quickly extended to 
 the numerous little towns that dot the north-eastern 
 coast. It reminded many of the beginning of the 
 Lord's ministry in the fishing villages of Galilee; 
 and the recent gracious visit of the Lord Jesus to 
 our own Galilean regions seemed to some like the 
 return of an old love. 
 
 In Aberdeen Mr. Matheson occupied the pulpit 
 of Blackfriars Street Independent Chapel. Joining 
 his friends, Mr. Eadclifi*e and Mr. Campbell (minis- 
 ter of Free North Church), he threw himself heart- 
 ily into the work. Not satisfied with ordinary effort, 
 they set themselves to carry the war into the very 
 camp of the enemy by open-air services in the streets 
 and elsewhere. In writing to a friend, he says : 
 
 "I have only time for a few words, and my ob- 
 ject in writing is specially to ask your prayers that 
 at this time the Lord may greatly bless me in the 
 ingathering of souls. Yesterday was one of the most 
 
 remarkable days I have spent in my life. Mr. F , 
 
 the godly man who brought me to Aberdeen, was 
 well yesterday morning. He went at two o'clock 
 to the meeting in the County Buildings; read 16th 
 of John, sang a psalm, engaged in prayer for the 
 outpouiing of the Spirit, sat down, cast his eyes to 
 
Wo7'k of Grace in Aberdeen. i8i 
 
 heaven, gave a deep sigh, and in a moment his spirit 
 was with Jesus whom he loved. At eight o'clock 
 Mr. Campbell and I preached to thousands in the 
 open air. What a night ! We had over and over 
 again to preach. The crowds had to be divided, for 
 they were too large. We could not till nearly eleven 
 o'clock get away from the awakened. Mr. Eadclilfe 
 was unable to speak. Pray, pray for us. The Lord 
 is doing great things. I believe almost every time 
 one speaks souls are brought to Christ. Pray for me 
 — for humility. The Lord bless you. I am weary. 
 "Yours in Him, 
 
 "DuNCAif Matheson." 
 
 Speaking of the work of grace in Aberdeen, in a 
 letter of date 17th August, 1859, he says: 
 
 "After a residence of nearly five months in this 
 city, and having come in contact with the work in 
 all its phases, I have no hesitation in saying that a 
 great and glorious work of grace has been felt here, 
 and that it is still going on. It is impossible to esti- 
 mate its extent, or gather up one half of the results. 
 More, far more, has been done than is apparent ; and 
 yet it is a fact that numbers have been more or less 
 influenced by the truth, and that many, very many, 
 manifestly have been brought to Christ. There can 
 be no doubt of this, and as yet I have not met one 
 case of any truly awakened returning to the world. 
 The Lord has given a visible stamp to not a few, and 
 the zeal, love, affection, prayerfulness, and humility 
 
1 82 TJie Young Meeting for Prayer. 
 
 of many of the young converts is remarkable. I 
 never during my life saw more deep concern for 
 souls tlian I have seen here, and the close clinging 
 to each other, though in different churches, is re- 
 freshing — most refreshing. Groups of the young 
 are to be found here and there throughout the 
 whole city meeting for prayer ; and one thing has 
 struck me almost more than any thing — the holy 
 boldness in confessing Christ, and acknowledging 
 what He has done for their souls. Another striking 
 thing is this, that few have found Christ themselves, 
 but they have been instrumental in the awakening 
 of others. Many instances of this have come under 
 my notice. A leading feature in the prayers of the 
 young converts is the prayer offered up for the 
 Christian ministry. One would often think they 
 were burdened with the care of the ministry ; and 
 a high, deep respect for the ministers of the Gospel, 
 in so far as they are owned of God and devoted to 
 His work, is manifest. We have had the revival, 
 and the fruits are apparent to all who have min- 
 gled in the work. Often has it pained us, many 
 going away and saying, 'I saw none.' Nay, and 
 liow could they, if they did not go where it was, 
 and if they did not ask those who do know it? 
 
 "The grace of God has been much displayed in 
 not a few instances that have come under our notice, 
 of parties coming to spend a Sabbath in the city, 
 going away to their homes deeply awakened, or re- 
 joicing in Jesus, and becoming centres of blessing 
 
spread of the Awakening. 183 
 
 where tliey lived. I have passed through many 
 parishes in the country, and found here and there 
 anxious souls; and one thing is undeniable, that 
 never was there a time when so many were thirst- 
 ing for the Word, and that w^here ministers have 
 taken advantage of this, and entered with intensity 
 into this new state of things, there a blessing has 
 descended. At Chapel of Garioch, Banchory, etc., 
 the Lord has been working, but with much power 
 at Chapel of Garioch ; and I believe that there is not 
 a parish around it but has its awakened ones. The 
 truth that above all others seems to be owned is — 
 ' You are lost. A Saviour has been provided. It is 
 your duty to accept Him now' Ruin by the fall, 
 righteousness by Christ, and regeneration only by 
 the Holy Ghost, are the leading truths of every ad- 
 dress. They are uttered in much simplicity, from 
 loving hearts (I speak of ^Ir. Radcliffe and the min- 
 isters well known engaged in the work), and in 
 much dependence on the Holy Ghost, and the bless- 
 ing does descend. We can convince no one if they 
 will not believe. Hearts leap for joy, and songs of 
 holy triumph are sung. The Spirit is breathing ; the 
 Holy Ghost is working; the gale is blowing; the 
 tide has risen and is still rising. Blessed they that 
 take advantage of it, and girding themselves for the 
 battles of the Lord, go forth to preach Christ, 
 
 ** ' As dying men unto dying men.' 
 
 But how sad to awake and find the opportunity 
 
184 Awakening in Garioch. 
 
 gone, and hear, in the looks of hardened smners, 
 powerless sermons, and unheeded warnings, the 
 voice, deep and solemn — ' Thou Itadst a day.'' God 
 bless you evermore." 
 
 From Aberdeen he went frequently to the country, 
 and found many of the rural parishes awakening as 
 out of a deep sleep. Let us follow him to two or 
 three places of interest. An awakening took place 
 in the Free Church of Garioch in August, 1859. Mr. 
 Matheson was present when the work began. " The 
 prominent characteristic which ever attracted most 
 our love for Mr. Matheson," writes Mrs. Bain, wife 
 of the esteemed minister, "was his devoted and con- 
 tinual watching and working for the salvation of 
 eouls. I noticed thi^ at my first rneeting with him, 
 which occurred in a stage-coach about 1848, on 
 which occasion I was greatly refreshed while listen- 
 ing to a conversation in which I found my two 
 fellow-travellers engaged when I entered the coach. 
 One, an elderly man, was making objections to the 
 doctrine of sovereign grace. The other, a young 
 man, although evidently suffering under severe 
 toothache, was using the opportunity to plead for 
 truth Avisely and lovingly. I felt so interested as to 
 be constrained to inquire on reaching our journey's 
 end after his name, and found it was Duncan Mathe- 
 son, then said to be a stone-cutter, but evidently be- 
 ing prepared to use skilfully the hammer of the 
 Word of God in polishing living stones for the great 
 temple. Some years afterwards, being employed in 
 
Reginald Radcliffe. 185 
 
 missionary work in and around Huntly, he was 
 asked to address a meeting here, which, I think, 
 was almost the first of his evangehstic labors beyond 
 his native district. From that occasion onward to 
 his last visit, alter his illness was far advanced, 
 many were his kind and stirring visits to ns and 
 among us, and many have cause to bless God for 
 them. 
 
 " Mr. Matheson was engaged to preach here on 
 the evening of August 4th, 1859, Mr. Bain being 
 then in Ireland, drawn over by the great -revival 
 there. Some days before I received an intimation 
 from Mr. Radcliffe of his willingness to come and ad- 
 dress oui* people, and spend some time here, which 
 being accepted, Mr. Matheson's previous engage- 
 ment proved a very gracious arrangement in prov- 
 idence for leading him to be present, and giving his 
 most valuable assistance on that remarkable night 
 of the outpouring of the Holy Ghost on the people 
 gathered from the surrounding district, his previous 
 knowledge of not a few of them giving him an ad- 
 vantage in dealing with the many souls awakened 
 on that memorable occasion. 
 
 "After the market-preaching began, Mr. IMatheson 
 came to us for several years on the Sabbath nearest 
 the Whit-sunday and Martinmas terms. These visits 
 were looked forward to with desire, and much prized 
 by our people. On one of these Sabbaths the power 
 of God was manifest upon the souls of many, espe- 
 cially in the afternoon. ]\Ir. Bain being absent, I 
 
1 86 Prized Visits, 
 
 was called out of church after the close of the first 
 service, and while a prolonged meeting was being 
 held on account of the agitated state of some young 
 persons. I found at the church door a lad who had 
 long been in my Sabbath Bible-class, and who up 
 to the morning of that day had been, as far as I 
 could see, entirely hard and careless, answering 
 questions with perfect ease and indiiference, so that 
 I found it necessary, in order to keep him in his own 
 place, to frame questions of some difficulty for him. 
 My amazement was great to see his usually hard 
 face pale, his whole frame trembling. And when I 
 asked the cause, he could only gasp, 'My sins! my 
 sins ! ' I brought him and his sister, also awakened, 
 to the Manse, and advised them, after other efforts 
 to help them, to cry to God. 'I cannot pray,' he 
 said, in great distress. I left them a little, and then 
 returned, when I found- him wrestling in an agoniz- 
 ing way to find the words which were gradually 
 coming out of his lips. Mr. Matheson took much 
 interest in this case, which, after some time of deep 
 distress, appeared to isssue in a new birth and con- 
 sistent profession. The young man having left this 
 neighborhood, I have not seen him for several years. 
 "Mr. Matheson's influence over the people here 
 was great, as may be judged from the fact that, after 
 the revival in 1859-60, he one day threw out while 
 preaching a suggestion that the young men of our 
 congregation should agree to support a native Chi- 
 nese evangelist under Mr. Wm. Burns. A few took 
 
Mathe son's Preaching Attractive. 187 
 
 lip the idea, and ever since the yearly salary has 
 been gathered, although he who suggested and some 
 who began the work now rest from their labors. 
 
 "Mr. Matheson's preaching was wonderfully at- 
 tractive in most places to some whose position and 
 previous training would not have led one to expect 
 a Scottish lay-evangelist to be listened to with plea- 
 sure. But I believe the secret of his power lay in 
 his deep heart-yearning over souls, and dealing with 
 God in secret for them in connection with the sanc- 
 tified wisdom and tact with which the JNIaster gifted 
 him as a fisher of men. 
 
 " He was engaged in this work in season and out 
 of season, in secret and in public. On one occasion, 
 while walking alone in this neighborhood, a lady 
 passed on horseback, whose general bearing and 
 talents had led him to feel interested in her while 
 yet a stranger to saving grace. He retired into a 
 wood, then and there knelt down, and cried to God 
 for her conversion ; and I doubt not this was one of 
 the links in the appointed chain of circumstances 
 by which ere long she was drawn by the cords of 
 divine love to God, and became for a few years, till 
 called to the home above, a bright Christian." 
 
 Towards the close of 1859 he began to extend his 
 evangelistic itineracy to Banfi'shire, preaching for 
 the most part in the towns and villages along the 
 coast. His labors were specially blessed in the 
 burgh and seaport of Cullen. This little town is 
 situated on the brow of a hill looking full in the 
 
1 88 Visitin(r Cullen 
 
 ^> 
 
 face the blue waters of the Northern Sea, where it 
 begins to narrow into the beautiful Frith of Moray, 
 whose ample tide is bounded on the southern shore 
 by wild, picturesque, and caverned rocks ; whilst the 
 lofty mountains of Sutherland and Caithness rise far 
 upon the deep, like giant warders of the northern 
 coast. Beneath the burgh proper lies the fishing 
 village in a tumult of houses upon the beach, where 
 the storm often breaks with Arctic fury, casting 
 clouds of spray high into the air, and sometimes in- 
 vading the cottages that line the shore. 
 
 Early in 1860 the whole place was moved as by 
 an earthquake. Fear took hold on the sinners in 
 Zion; trembling seized the hypocrites. Careless 
 ones, whose shadow had not darkened the door of 
 God's house for many years, found their way to 
 church or chapel ; and even worldly men talked to 
 one another about the great question upon the 
 streets. At first the awful shadow of an angry 
 God coming to judgment fell on many, and it 
 seemed as if there was one dead in every house. 
 Awakening was followed by conversion. The thun- 
 der of Sinai gave way to the peaceful sunshine of 
 Calvary. Christians who had never known the 
 liberty of the Gospel were suddenly delivered from 
 the spirit of bondage, and ushered into the joyful 
 assurance of acceptance in the Beloved. 
 
 Our evangelist visited Cullen just as the work of 
 grace was becoming manifest, and preached fre- 
 quently in the Free and Independent churches, re- 
 
 i 
 
A Powei'ftd Sermon. 189 
 
 ceiving from the pastors a cordial welcome. On one 
 memorable night he preached to a crowded congre- 
 gation in the Free Church. The subject of his dis- 
 course was "The Barren Fig-tree." From the be- 
 ginning of the service a deep solemnity rested on 
 the people, and the minds of many were in a state 
 of strange expectancy. Unveiling the truth, the 
 preacher describes a community favored with the 
 light and privileges of the Gospel. Privilege after 
 privilege is enjoyed. Sabbath follows Sabbath in 
 peaceful succession. Opportunity after opportunity 
 occurs, and sermon on sermon. Mercy presses on 
 the heels of mercy, like the bright days of summer 
 chasing time to its wintry close. The sharp dispen- 
 sations of the providential pruning-knife come again 
 and again. But all is in vain. The sunshine and 
 the rain have been to no purpose; the digging and 
 the dunging have been in vain. The Father's love 
 has been to them as nought. The blood of the Son 
 has been despised. The grace of the Spirit has 
 brought forth no fruit in them. Forbearance and 
 intercession have yielded no result but failure. After 
 the resources of the Godhead in the Gospel of Christ, 
 what then? The people know that He is drawing 
 their portrait with unmistakable resemblance. Feel- 
 ing they are found out among the trees of the gar- 
 den, they tremble and listen with breathless atten- 
 tion. The sonorous voice of the preacher grows 
 thrillingly solemn and tender as he proceeds, till at 
 length he pours out his last warning in a torrent of 
 
IQO ^^ Remember Lot's WifeT 
 
 compassionate feeling. His eye glances with an 
 awful light, as if he is looking into eternity, while 
 he lifts his hands and pronounces the sentence with 
 a mighty and judgment-like voice, " Cut it down ; 
 why cumbereth it any longer the ground?" Never 
 did woodman aim a better stroke. God is in the 
 Word. Old rotten trunks are crashing beneath the 
 blow. One and another are saying with irrepressi- 
 ble alarm, "It is I! it is I ! God be merciful to my 
 soul ! " The results are with Him who knoweth all 
 things; but there is reason to believe that some of 
 the audience will remember that night and the fell- 
 ing of the barren fig-tree amidst the songs and joys 
 of eternity. 
 
 On another memorable occasion he preached in the 
 Independent Chapel. The little meeting-house is 
 crowded to the door. The night is intensely cold 
 and dark. The frost having rendered the ordinary 
 lights unavailable, the darkness is made visible by a 
 single candle which the preacher holds in his hand. 
 His text is "Remember Lot's wife." The narrative 
 receives a graphic handling. The clear sky of early 
 morn suddenly darkens, a cloud of appalling black- 
 ness throws the shadow of approaching judgment 
 upon the cities of the plain. Then a gleam of 
 more than lightning vividness kindles all the air, a 
 whirlwind of fire sweeps down upon Sodom and 
 wraps its four corners, its every street and suburb, 
 its every house and chamber, its every man and 
 woman, in the very winding-sheet of hell. Ah ! now 
 
His Success in Ctillen. 191 
 
 the inhabitants of the doomed city wake to find that 
 their damnation shimbereth not. But a Httle band 
 of four escapes. An angeHc saviour leads them on. 
 Well may they hasten, for the devouring fire sweeps 
 fast along the plain. One of the four lingers, only 
 a little ; but a little is at this awfal moment decisive 
 of much. God's wrath is abroad. Is this a time to 
 trifle? The fiery tempest suddenly closes her round, 
 and there she stands under an eternal arrest, a pillar 
 of salt. Some such picture is before the eye of the 
 people's imagination as the preacher proceeds to the 
 more important part of his discourse — its application 
 to the consciences of the hearers. God enters by lit- 
 tle, lowly doors into men's hearts. The Spirit uses 
 little things to make and deepen impressions of the 
 unseen and the eternal. The darkness of the place ; 
 the solitary candle throwing a dim, pale light on the 
 preacher's countenance, and giving it a strange weird 
 look; the deep silence, broken only by a sigh or a 
 sob, and the solemn tones of a voice speaking, as it 
 were, out of the invisible, and warning every trifler 
 with the soul and with God to "remember Lot's wife," 
 conspired, in the hand of the Holy Spirit, to bring 
 about one of those supreme moments of crisis when 
 souls must and do decide their destiny for eternal 
 weal or eternal woe. 
 
 Our evangelist made his mark on the young men 
 of the town. His broad, free, genial manners capti- 
 vated their hearts ; his talents, magnanimity, and up- 
 rightness commanded theu' respect. Many of them 
 
192 James Wilson. 
 
 were converted at this time ; and it was pleasing to 
 see the finest youths of the place sitting in a com- 
 pany round about their father in the faith, and re- 
 ceiving his counsels as from an angei of God. For 
 the young men he had a pecuhar love: they were 
 his joy, and as his very life. He cared for their in- 
 terests as a father for his children, and cherished 
 them as a nurse cherishes a babe. He guided them 
 with skill, warning them against the errors of his 
 own early Christian days; and having won their 
 confidence, he strove to lead them to the highest 
 idea of the life of faith. In particular, he ever urged 
 upon them entire consecration. "Be out and out 
 for Christ," he would say; "nail your colors to the 
 mast; labor for God, and live for eternity." In this 
 way he succeeded in stamping upon them the im- 
 press of his own decided and energetic character, 
 and through the grace given him inspired them with 
 an intense longing to win souls. One of them is now 
 an ordained missionary in China ; another labors in 
 Turkey; a third preaches the Gospel at home; a 
 fourth is preparing to take the field as a medical 
 missionary; and others are occupying their talent 
 in the quiet corners of the vineyard. 
 
 An instance of the way in which the fire was then 
 spreading may be here given. James Wilson, a na- 
 tive of Cullen, and an accomplished classical scholar, 
 was at that time master of a school at Aberfeldy, in 
 Perthshire. Hearing of the work of grace in his 
 native town, he was deeply moved. Previous to 
 
Ti'tidging Through Rain and Snow. 193 
 
 this he had regarded earnestness in rehgion as a 
 mere extravagance; but now "the name to hve 
 whilst dead" satisfied him no longer. The work of 
 God began in the village, and the minister of the 
 Free Church was frequently assisted by Mr. Mathe- 
 son. The teacher was led to take a decided stand 
 for Christ, and thenceforth all his learning and in- 
 fluence were given to the work of the Lord. His 
 school became a nursery for the church and the di- 
 vinity hall. Remarkable success attended his labors 
 among the youths, some of whom, after a brilliant 
 academic career, have entered on the work of the 
 ministry with much promise of usefulness. The 
 course of the devoted teacher was terminated by 
 an early translation to glory. 
 
 Cullen lay much on the heart of the evangelist. 
 For years he continued to visit it, laboring to win 
 its inhabitants to Christ. On his Avay thither many 
 a weary mile did he trudge, often amidst the rains 
 and snows of winter, receiving no pay and seeking 
 no reward but " souls." Divining his motives, the 
 shrewd fishermen said, "That man fishes by the 
 cran ; " that is to say, he is no mere hireling : he 
 labors not for a comfortable living, but finds his re- 
 ward in the number of souls saved. Often was his 
 stentorian voice heard ringing from the centre of the 
 toAvn to its circumference in the quiet of the even- 
 ing, when the deepening shades added solemnity to 
 the preacher's word; and strong men were known 
 to tremble at their own fireside as the question fell 
 13 
 
194 Memorable Scenes. 
 
 upon their unwilling ears, "Who shall stand before 
 this holy Lord God?" 
 
 In most of the villages that stud the Banffshire 
 coast, a stranger in those days had but to signify his 
 willingness to preach the Gospel, when suddenly, as 
 if by magic, the whole population, men, women, and 
 children, would assemble to hear the Word of God. 
 To see the great crowd kneeling reverently on the 
 grass amidst the deepest silence broken only by a 
 groan, a sob, a loud cry for mercy, to be followed by 
 fond, enthusiastic demonstrations of love and hearty 
 songs of praise, characteristic of these impulsive chil- 
 dren of the sea, was a sight impressive beyond de- 
 scription, and never to be forgotten. From such 
 scenes Duncan Matheson, like one refreshed with 
 the new wine of the kingdom, was wont to come 
 away singing his favorite Psalm — 
 
 ♦* When Zion's bondage God turned back, 
 Like men that dreamed were we; 
 Then filled with laughter was our mouth, 
 Our tongue with melody." 
 
 The landward parishes were not overlooked by 
 the great Redeemer as He marched along the sea- 
 coast in glorious majesty : from His bountiful hand 
 the blessings of His grace were now being scattered 
 far and wide. The reapers on the field, from the 
 master to the gleaner, were known to lay aside at 
 noonday the urgent labors of the harvest to attend 
 to the more pressing business of the soul. Jesus was 
 
Seizing Opportunities. 195 
 
 gathering golden sheaves into his garner. IMathe- 
 son at this period, strong to reap rather than patient 
 to sow, lent his powerful aid in every place. Few 
 in all that region missed hearing the jubilant voice 
 of our sturdy reaper, and seeing the gleam of his 
 sharp sickle among the yellow corn. Prompt in 
 word and deed, skilful above most men to strike the 
 iron while it was hot, brooking no restraints of mere 
 policy or empty form, and impetuous almost beyond 
 measure, he was in his proper character an Arab in 
 the service of the King. Hungering after great re- 
 sults, having capacity for work and fatigue enough 
 for two men, and withal possessing that rare and 
 dangerous power of will by which strong souls can 
 indefinitely postpone the season of rest, the un- 
 wearied spirit keeping the wearied flesh up to its 
 own high mark, our evangelist moved from one 
 place to another with the rapidity of a courier in 
 the crisis of battle. Seizing the opportunities that 
 will not tarry for the timid or the too cautious, he 
 launched on the full tide when others were laying- 
 down canons for discussing the conditions of its ebb 
 and flow. The very air seemed full of elements 
 deeply solemn and heart-touching. A divine pres- 
 ence rested everywhere, and men were compelled 
 for a time to breathe the atmosphere of eternity. 
 Doors that might soon close were opening on every 
 side, and the energetic lay-preacher Avas not slow to 
 enter in. Pushing along the coast as far north as 
 Moray and Nairn, he bent his steps into the mte- 
 
196 The Evangelist at Dnndee. 
 
 rior, and visited Dufftown, Tomintoul, and Braemar. 
 Sweeping southward to the counties of Forfar and 
 Perth, he gradually extended his circuit until it 
 embraced the whole country from John o' Groat's 
 to the English border. To follow him into every 
 town and parish is impossible : we can only seize on 
 a few points. 
 
 In the gracious visitations of this period Dundee 
 was not passed by. In the many evangelistic ser- 
 vices then held in this town Mr. Matheson lent fre- 
 quent and effective aid. He preached in churches 
 of various denominations, and his voice was often 
 heard in the open air. One winter he remained 
 here three months, every day and night of which 
 was spent in exhausting but fruitful toil. One Sab- 
 bath evening early in 1860, he addressed a crowded 
 congregation in Hilltown Church. An unwonted 
 solemnity, deepening as the service proceeded into 
 a feeling of awe, seemed to rest on the audience. 
 The preacher discoursed from Matthew xxv. *46: 
 "And these shall go away into everlasting punish- 
 ment : but the righteous into life eternal." In words 
 most telling and pictures most vivid he described the 
 sinner s going away — away from the fair scenes of 
 nature, from the warbling of the birds and the mur- 
 mur of the brooks, from the smiling of the summer 
 sun and the rich glow of autunni — away from every 
 lovely sight and every pleasant sound — away from 
 friends and home and social joys, of every thing dear 
 to the heart of man upon the earth — away from the 
 
 I 
 
A Hcart-mclting SccJte. 197 
 
 peaceful Sabbath, with its hallowed services and its 
 heavenly calm, to hear the sound of the Sabbath 
 bell and the song of praise no more Ibrever — away 
 from the affectionate efforts and touching appeals 
 of the faithful preacher, and from the sympathies and 
 prayers of Christian friends — away from the Bible, 
 with its beautiful stories, its comforting promises, 
 and its heavenly truths, like God's windows, letting 
 down light upon a dark world — away from all the 
 peace and purity and hope of the Gospel — away 
 from God, whose mercy they reject, forever — away 
 from J esub, whose blood they trample beneath their 
 feet — away from the gracious Spirit to whom they 
 have done so great despite — away from all joy and 
 blessing and good, for evermore. To render the 
 truths more vivid, he described a heart-melting 
 scene he had witnessed in the East in the depart- 
 ure of a weeping crowd of Circassian exiles, whose 
 loud and agonizing wail told the love they bore to 
 their fatherland, from which they were being driven 
 by the scourge of war. As he went on in his own 
 pathetic manner, with a certain grandly plaintive 
 music as of eternity in his voice, to describe the de- 
 parture of the woe-stricken exiles of sin and despair 
 into the blackness of darkness forever, speaking as 
 feelingly as if he saw them disappearing in that dis- 
 mal and unknown night, the heavy sigh, the stifled 
 sob, and the pallor on many a face, revealed the all 
 but uncontrollable emotion of the people. At the 
 close of the service the session and vestry were 
 
198 '*/ Have Found Himr 
 
 crowded with the awakened. The place was a Bo- 
 chim. The first person that obtained dehverance 
 started up, saying, "I have found Him! I have 
 found Him ! I never saw the way before ! " and be- 
 gan to praise and glorify God. This only pierced the 
 hearts of the others with a keener sorrow. Fearing 
 lest they should be left in their sins, they began to 
 charge themselves with unpardonable hardness of 
 heart, and to prostrate themselves before God in the 
 most affecting manner. To one after another came 
 peace and joy in believing, and quickly, the weep- 
 ing was changed into songs of praise. Such scenes 
 as these were afterwards renewed with blessed fre- 
 quency; and the gracious character of the work 
 came out in holy lives, patient sufferings, and tri- 
 umphant deaths. 
 
 In the autumn of the same year open-air meet- 
 ings were held in the Barrack Park in this town. 
 On the second day several of the ministers and 
 others, fearing lest there should be no blessing, re- 
 tired, on the suggestion of ^latheson, in great heavi- 
 ness of spirit to pray. Kneeling on the grass, we 
 continued in intercession for nearly two hours. It 
 was one of those seasons of agonizing prayer which 
 seem ever to precede a remarkable display of divine 
 grace. It was the slumbering spouse arousing her- 
 self with painful effort at the call of her Lord ; the 
 laborious undoing of the bars of the everlasting gates 
 to let the King of glory in. By the end of the pray- 
 ing the darkened sky began to pour down torrents 
 
The Divine Presence. 1 99 
 
 of rain, and the mass of the people, with most of 
 the speakers, were dispersed. The voice of Duncan 
 Matheson was heard calHng aloud, " Perhaps God 
 is trying us by the rain; let us wait a little." Gid- 
 eon's three hundred remained, and continued in 
 prayer and praise. Mr. Campbell (Aberdeen), whose 
 labors were so signally owned amongst us at that 
 time, together with his friend our evangelist, and 
 another, leading the services amidst descending tor- 
 rents. Just as the smi was beginning to shine out 
 again and the rain was ceasing, an extraordinaiy 
 sense of the Divine Presence fell upon the whole as- 
 sembly. Suddenly the Christians were filled with 
 great joy. Simultaneously many of the anxious 
 found the Lord, and began to break forth in songs 
 of praise. Every one began to speak to his neigh- 
 bor of the Saviour he was seeking or the Saviour 
 he had found. On passing through the whole com- 
 pany, we did not find one who was not either re- 
 joicing in Christ or seeking Him with intense ear- 
 nestness. The cloud of glory rested there for a 
 season; and no visible signs or miraculous gifts 
 could have added to the blessed consciousness and 
 most veritable certainty of the immediate presence 
 and gracious working of God. Till memory fails or 
 the more "excellent glory" of the unveiled face of 
 Immanuel obliterates the remembrance of faith's 
 brightest visions on earth, it is impossible for us to 
 forget the awful nearness of God at that time, the 
 overpowering sense of blended majesty, love, and 
 
200 Believers Sealed Anew. 
 
 holiness, the solemn gladness, and the soft, pure 
 radiance of a Eedeemer's face that chased the dark 
 shadows of doubt and sin away from many a soul. 
 "We beheld his glory, the glory as of the only be- 
 gotten of the Father, full of grace and truth ; . . . 
 and of His fulness have all we received, and grace 
 for grace." Many of the believers, if not all, were 
 then sealed anew, and they began henceforth to 
 testify to the grace of God with great freedom and 
 boldness. Some Christians who had never known 
 assurance were then ushered into the full light of 
 the Gospel; their bonds were loosed, and they en- 
 tered into the liberty of the Sons of God. Many 
 sought and found the Lord upon the spot. The door 
 of salvation then seemed to be peculiarly near, easy 
 of entrance, and inviting. Whilst you were pray- 
 ing with an inquirer, he would break out, " Oh, I 
 have found Him!" or "I see! I see!" And then 
 followed the new song. Often, as we sung the 
 opening verses of the fortieth Psalm, the light broke 
 in upon the distressed soul, and peace followed. 
 
 After this the work went on prosperously ; num- 
 bers were found awakened at the close of every 
 meeting. Many thousands attended the open-air 
 services, and great power accompanied the word. 
 The way in which many were converted, stamp the 
 movement as the work of the Holy Sphit. A young 
 man entered a church from sheer curiosity, and 
 stood near the door in order that he might the more 
 conveniently retire if aught should offend his ear, 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
Remarkable Conversions. 201 
 
 He heard the text, and heard no more. That led 
 to his conversion. Another young man was retmii- 
 ing from business one evening, when a serious 
 thought took hold of him. Entering his room, he 
 opened the New Testament at the tenth chapter of 
 the Gospel according to John. " Seeing the open 
 door," he said, " I slipped in, and now I find Jesus 
 to be the Way." "When I saw that my sister was 
 so changed and so happy," said another, " I was 
 afraid lest I should be left, and in my alarm I sought 
 the Lord and found Him." " One shall be taken, 
 and another shall be left," was a preacher's text at 
 an open-air meeting. A woman whose husband had 
 been recently converted hearing that word was 
 pierced to the heart, and thus brought out of dark- 
 ness into the "marvellous light." Another was 
 carelessly passing by, and hearing the preacher sol- 
 emnly repeat the question, " How shall we escape, 
 if we neglect so great salvation ? " was arrested and 
 brought to the Lord. A man was sitting at his fire- 
 side, when his wife returned from a meeting. Some- 
 thing in her manner cut him to the heart ; the re- 
 sult was his conversion. A young woman scoffed 
 and swore she would never attend re^dval meetings. 
 Her wicked vow recoiled upon her. She feared she 
 had sold herself to the devil. After a season of 
 mental anguish, she obtained forgiveness, and led a 
 new life. A young man came with his companion 
 to an open-air service for the purpose of scoffing. 
 He was awakened and enabled to receive Christ, 
 
202 A Cry for Mercy. 
 
 at which his friend went away in a rage. " I won- 
 dered why they were so happy," said another, in 
 reference to the joy of the Christians. " I was re- 
 solved to get at the bottom of it, and had no rest 
 till I found out the secret for myself" One day, 
 about the time the work began, a piercing cry for 
 mercy was heard in a church. That cry was the 
 voice of God to several persons, who dated either 
 their first conviction or their conversion from that 
 day. It was thus, they said, things unseen and 
 eternal were made real to them. 
 
 A company of men were one night carousing in 
 a public-house in the outskirts of Dundee, when the 
 sound of voices was heard singing a spiritual song. 
 It was a little band of Christian young women on 
 their way home from a religious meeting, and they 
 were giving expression to their joy in the Lord by 
 singing — 
 
 " One is kind above all others, 
 Oh, how He loves ! " 
 
 The words of the hymn fell with a strange power 
 upon the ear of a young man sitting at the tavern 
 table. The others seemed not to hear the voice of 
 the singers as they passed : to him it was the voice 
 of God. He was arrested by the Holy Spirit, and 
 became dumb with silence. His companions were 
 astonished. They thought he had suddenly gone 
 mad. In vain they questioned him, in vain they 
 jeered. He rose and left the house. As he paced 
 the street in the darkness of night, the words of the 
 
Diversities of Operations. 203 
 
 hymn kept ringing in his ears. He thought of the 
 love of that Saviour wliom he had hitherto rejected. 
 The thought pierced his heart, and he burst into 
 tears. I shall never forget his subdued and grieved 
 look as he made his way into my study and told me 
 how God had smitten his heart in the public-house, 
 and turned his pleasures into wormwood and gall. 
 He seemed to see his sins in the light of Christ's love. 
 In answer to his eager inquiries about the way of 
 salvation, I did not fail to preach Christ to him, and 
 not in vain, I trust, as he entered at once on a new 
 course of life. 
 
 As contrasting with this case and illustrative of 
 the variety of means employed by the Holy Spirit 
 to awaken sinners, the following instance may be 
 given. A young man, well known to the writer, 
 was living without God and without hope in the 
 world. He was not conscious of a single thought 
 respecting a future state, and did not so much as 
 believe in the being of a God. His Sabbaths were 
 spent in worldly recreation and pleasure. One Lord's 
 day in summer he was rambling in the fields. The 
 sun was shining brightly, and nature was clad in 
 her most beautiful array. As he looked on the smil- 
 ing landscape, suddenly and for the first time the 
 thought arose in his mind. All this must have had a 
 beginning: whence and how did it begin? A long 
 train of thought led him to the conclusion that the 
 world must have had a Maker. Then came the ques- 
 tion, Who is He ? What is He ? Again he launched 
 
204 Converted by Logical Reaso7iing. 
 
 out on a sea of speculation, and once more readied 
 firm ground in the belief that the world's Maker 
 must be a living, personal Being, very great and 
 very glorious. By this time he had lost sight of the 
 beauties of the landscape, and felt as if he was alone 
 with the Creator. Now another question arose: 
 What am I to this glorious Being, and what is He 
 to me? On this line of thought he entered with 
 great reluctance, for he felt a misgiving as to the 
 result, and feared He would discover things fitted 
 to render him unhappy. But he dared not, he could 
 not turn back. He felt he was like a man waking 
 up in a dark cave with a solitary ray of light com- 
 ing from afar. If he is to emerge under the open 
 heavens he must follow the light. He tries, he stum- 
 bles, he is stunned, but he rises, and again spying 
 the glimmer of distant day, he holds on his doubtful 
 course. He now said to himself. If there be such an 
 one as God it concerns me to know as much as pos- 
 sible about him. He then and there resolves to use 
 all means to find out about God. He went home 
 and betook himself to reading, meditating and rea- 
 soning. The next stage arrived at was the painful 
 conviction that he had never acknowledged this God, 
 or done his duty to Him, and had in fact poured con- 
 tempt upon Him by his negligence. As soon as a- 
 sense of guilt thus fastened on him, he felt he could 
 ramble no more on the Lord's day. Thenceforth he 
 began to pursue his inquiries by prayer as well as 
 reading and thinking. The light grew ; his trouble 
 
Testimony of a Dying Man. 205 
 
 increased. He would now see what Christians had 
 to say in the matter; and accordingly began to at- 
 tend the ordinary and special services of religion at 
 a time when remarkable power accompanied the 
 preaching of the Word. Here he found God. He 
 found Him in Christ. He found Him at the cross. 
 Now, this young man's religious experience has al- 
 ways seemed to me to be a good practical illustration 
 of the text, "We shall know, if Ave follow on to know 
 the Lord," and also of Christ's word, " If any man 
 will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine 
 whether it be of God, or whether I speak of my- 
 self" He seemed to act up to his light, yielding to 
 the force of truth, truth in its own native energy 
 with the superadded force of the Holy Spirit, in 
 whose light alone we can see light. The logical 
 faculty is strongly developed in him ; and by that 
 door the Holy Spirit saw fit to enter into his heart. 
 He still goes on reasoning out every thing. The 
 other day I found he had just proved to himself on 
 logical grounds these two things ; first, that a Chris- 
 tian ought to be filled with hmnility and love; and, 
 secondly, that no religion but the religion of Christ 
 can make a man truly luimhle and loving. After his 
 couA^ersion, he found recreation on the Lord's day 
 in teaching a class in the Sabbath-school. He is 
 now prosecuting a course of study preparatory to 
 the ministry of the Gospel. 
 
 Listen to a dying man. " Five years ago I was 
 a drunkard, a profane swearer, an infidel, and httle 
 
2o6 A Daughter Saved. 
 
 better than a beast. I heard the Gospel in the street. 
 The Lord arrested me and turned me to Himself. 
 He has kept me ever since, and I am saved. I am 
 going to be with Christ, which is far better. Help 
 me to praise Him." So saying, he began to sing, 
 
 '* Kock of Ages, cleft for me, 
 Let me hide myself in Thee ; " 
 
 and he literally sang out his last breath and died. 
 
 Look at yon gray-haired mother, whose heart is 
 beginning to know joy for the first time these many 
 years, as she clasps to her bosom her only daughter 
 recovered from a life of folly and sin. " my An- 
 nie ! my Annie ! my ain lost Annie ! I never thocht 
 I wad hae seen you mair. But the gude God has 
 been better to me than a' my fears. Are we ever 
 gaun to pairt again, Annie?" "Never, mither, 
 never I Jesus has saved me Himsel', an' He has 
 promised to keep me, an' He will never brak His 
 word. We'll never pairt, mither ; na, by His grace, 
 never, never? " Nor did they ever part till the Lord 
 Jesus came and took Annie away. I saw her de- 
 part, and in the truth she went home as a bride 
 adorned for her marriage. The daughter's recovery 
 led to the mother's salvation. 
 
 A young man was one night awakened at a meet- 
 ing, and began to inquire the way of life. Night 
 after night passed; he was constantly present, but; 
 no peace came to his heart, and he grew worse. 
 One evening Duncan Matheson took him aside into i 
 
A Lost Son Found. 207 
 
 the anteroom of the hall, and said to him, " Now, 
 are you really willing to have this awful business 
 settled? Christ is willing, are you ? " The young 
 man replied that he was willing. They knelt to 
 pray. As they prayed light and peace suddenly 
 dawned, and the young man started to his feet in a 
 tumult of joy and praise. Several of us, and among 
 the rest the father of the young man, who was great- 
 ly alarmed at the son's despair, entered the room at 
 that moment. Addressing the father, a Cln-istian 
 man, the evangelist introduced the son, saying, "Sir, 
 this thy son was dead, and is alive again ; was lost, 
 and is found." As the son rushed into the arms of 
 his affectionate and overjoyed father, the heart of 
 every one present was deeply moved. 
 
 A woman, mother of a large family, was one day 
 awakened, and so heavily did the terrors of the Lord 
 press upon her spirit, that she tied the house of God. 
 She could bear preaching to sinners, she said, but 
 when the people of God were addressed, it was too 
 much for her. Some can hear the law who will not 
 hear the Gospel. She became worse and worse, till 
 at length reason seemed to be giving way. She 
 dreaded to enter a place of worship because she was 
 so wicked. At this juncture Mr. Matheson, who had 
 frequently spoken to her, as a sort of last resource, 
 said, "Well, I can say no more to you than this: 
 do you as one poor soul did, who said, ' I will just 
 lie doon here till the Lord lift me up.'" Curiously 
 enough this proved to be the grand turning-point. 
 
 \ 
 
2o8 Reality. 
 
 She said to herself, " I will just do so." In short, she 
 ceased from her vain efforts of self-help, and cast 
 herself on the Lord. Great was her joy. She was 
 a wonder to her neighbors, who had witnessed her 
 previous " madness," and, better still, she has these 
 many years maintained a thoroughly Christian pro- 
 fession, and one after another of her family has 
 through her instrumentality been turned to the Lord. 
 One evening a young lady of great intelligence 
 and personal beauty, who was perfectly thoughtless 
 and gay, was induced, as a matter of curiosity, to 
 enter a certain place of worship. There was noth- 
 ing ncAV or striking in the service, she thought; "It 
 is just the old thing," she said to herself One thing, 
 however, struck her as the service proceeded, and 
 that Avas the solemnity of the preacher. "The thing 
 lA^J is evidently real to him," she said to herself; and 
 she could not but listen to him, although she imag- 
 ined she knew all he had to say. The solemnity of 
 the preacher impressed her. This impression was 
 the opening of her heart, and by this gate the King 
 of glory entered in. Her subsequent life was sin- 
 gularly beautiful. She seemed to walk beneath an 
 unclouded sky. Always trusting, always hopeful, 
 always rejoicing, always ready for every good work 
 — a most rare instance of childlike, progressive 
 blessed discipleship. Her bright career was short. 
 After a few years she took ill and died. A sharp 
 conflict with the great adversary befell her in her 
 last days ; but she came up from that valley of hu- 
 
A Phai'isee Changed. 209 
 
 miliation "more than conqueror through Him that 
 loved us," and she felt assured, she said, Satan would 
 never assail her any more. In her communion, 
 which was singularly close and elevated, she seemed 
 to speak to her Lord face to face. Her path from 
 first to last was indeed as the shining light, that 
 shineth more and more unto the perfect day. 
 
 "I was fairly in the devil's grip," said a working 
 man, in his homely, graphic way, as he told me the 
 story of the Lord's merciful dealings with his soul. 
 " But Christ cam' to me when I was little expect- 
 in' Him, an' took a hand o' me. Syne the deevil 
 pulled me ae way, an' Christ He pulled the ither 
 way, an' I had a sair time o't. But I cam' to ken 
 that Christ is far stronger than Satan, an' that was 
 weel for me." I was witness so far to this pulling, 
 which seemed well-nigh to rend the poor soul in 
 pieces. It was, doubtless, the tug of war — Imman- 
 uel laying siege to the city of Mansoul. 
 
 Let a different sort of witness speak — a gentle- 
 man of the most accomplished type. " Several years 
 ago I was, I regret to confess, a Pharisee of the 
 Pharisees. From my infancy I was taught to re- 
 spect religion, and despise every thing vidgar and 
 coarse. Accordingly I attended the house of God, 
 maintained a fair reputation, fancied I was a good 
 man, and had the best chance for heaven. Unex- 
 pectedly God opened my eyes. This he did by 
 means of the merest trifle — a petty act of mean- 
 ness done to a friend, which somehow took posses- 
 14 
 
210 A Drimkard's Conversion. 
 
 sion of my thoughts, tormented me, put me off 
 sleep, and led me to look deeper into my heart than 
 I had ever done. Thus I was led to discover what I 
 had never really seen before — my native depravity, 
 and proud hostility to God. I saw that my own 
 righteousness, to use the common phrase, was only 
 filthy rags. I saw that my very religion was full 
 of sin, and that, in fact, I had been going to church 
 and to the Lord's table just to patronize the Al- 
 mighty and honor myself I was now in a measure 
 humbled, and was not ashamed to make my appear- 
 ance at the revival meetings, where fresh light 
 awaited me. You know the rest. I became indeed 
 a new creature. So completely was my mind rev- 
 olutionized, that the very hymns I used to hate as 
 being exaggerated, Methodistic, and ranting, now 
 expressed the deepest feelings of my heart. But 
 the change was more than one of mere sentiment. 
 Had I previously died I should certainly have 
 perished." 
 
 "Sir," said a woman to me one day whom I hap- 
 pened to meet, " I am happier than I was on my 
 marriage day." Some time previous to this she had 
 been brought to Christ at one of the evangelistic 
 meetings when Mr. Matheson was assisting us. 
 Her husband, a drunkard and scoffer, was maddened 
 by her conversion, and gave her no peace night or 
 day. Her godly ways were intolerable to him. He 
 beat her till her life was in danger; but she bore 
 this brutal treatment with true Christian fortitude 
 
Robert Ajinaii. 21 1 
 
 and meekness, rendering good for evil, and praying 
 for his conversion without ceasing. " I am happier 
 than I was on my marriage day. God has heard 
 my prayer ; my poor husband is converted. He is 
 Hke a lamb, and thinks he cannot do enough to 
 please me. Oh, sir, if you had but seen him the 
 other night holding family Avorship for the first 
 time! It was like heaven upon earth! There 
 wasn't a dry eye in the house ; and our little lassie 
 looked up in his face and said, 'Father, ye'll win 
 to heaven noo. An' I'll gang wi' you; an' we'll a' 
 be there. I never thocht I wad like to gang to 
 heaven afore.' " Grace, mercy, and peace seem since 
 that day to have rested on the house. 
 
 Yonder, at the corner of Ann Street, early on 
 Sabbath mornings, you can see a fierce, tiger-like 
 young man going about among the loungers, and 
 begging a feAv pence to procure the diamkard's in- 
 dispensable dram. A few years pass, and the same 
 young man is seen at the same street corner at 
 the same hour on Sabbath mornings; but what a 
 change! With his Bible in one hand, whilst the 
 other is stretched out towards his hearers, he be- 
 seeches them with tears to beheve on that Saviour 
 who has delivered his soul from the lowest hell. 
 The preaching may be poor enough, but the man 
 himself is a sign and a wonder. "I knew the two 
 Bobert Annans,'' said one to me; "and when I re- 
 membered the wild profligate begging a dram, and 
 saw him now so meek and Christian-like, nothing 
 
212 Answer to Prayer. 
 
 ever impressed me so much, and I began to feel for 
 the first time there must be a reahty in reKgion." * 
 
 There were many striking answers to prayer. 
 One of the most remarkable I may here give. A 
 young woman who had found the Saviour at one 
 of the meetings when Mr. Matheson was with us, 
 requested special prayer one night on behalf of her 
 brother, a sailor, who had not been heard of for a 
 long while. Prayer was offered for the conversion 
 of the wanderer. Some three months afterwards 
 the young woman appeared at a meeting, and in- 
 troduced her brother in a state of religious concern. 
 Strange as it may appear, he had been awakened 
 at sea on the very night on which prayer had been 
 offered on his behalf His own account of the mat- 
 ter was this : He was pacing the deck in the still- 
 ness of the night, when a thought about his soul 
 took hold of him, and the more he strove to put 
 it away from him the worse he grew. He had 
 no peace until he returned home. We, of course, 
 preached Christ to him. Why should we reckon 
 such things incredibly strange? Does not our Fa- 
 ther in heaven answer the prayers of his children 
 every day? Has he promised, and will he not per- 
 form ? Where is our faith ? 
 
 In many ways our evangelist rendered important 
 service to the cause and Avork of God in this town. 
 When the movement had nearly reached its limit, 
 
 * See "The Christian Hero: the Life of Eobert Amian." 
 Same aiithor. 
 
Night of Hinniliation and Prayer. 213 
 
 and it seemed as if the hand of the Lord was being 
 withdrawn, Mr. Matheson, ever fertile in resources, 
 and panting after greater things, suggested that a 
 whole night should be set apart for humiliation and 
 prayer. With his wonted energy and promptitude 
 he arranged the details, and cleared the obstacles 
 away. Accordingly a goodly company of praying 
 men assembled in Euclid Street Chapel, and spent \ 
 the night, from nine or ten o'clock till six next-^ 
 morning, in intercession. That night was to many 
 present one of the most memorable seasons of their 
 life. The sense of the majesty and immediate pres- 
 ence of Jehovah rested on every soul. In the aw- 
 ful stillness of the night watches we realized eter- 
 nity. The fact that thousands of our fellow-citizens 
 were sleeping on the verge of hell seized our minds 
 with overwhelming vividness, and the whole com- 
 pany were bathed in tears. Dundee! Dundee! 
 how hast thou been exalted unto heaven in the 
 compassionate cries and anguished pleadings of 
 those that loved thee even when they were hated 
 by thee ! May thy repentance turn away from thee 
 the judgment of Capernaum ! That night of prayer 
 was followed by most striking displays of saving 
 power. Instances of conversion sufficient to fill a 
 volume could be here given ; but I must forbear. 
 
 Of the converts, some are now in the ministry, 
 some are missionaries, evangelists. Scripture-read- 
 ers, elders, deacons, students. Sabbath-school teach- 
 ers, and district visitors ; while a still greater num- 
 
214 A Field-day of the Gospel. 
 
 ber are embraced in tlie less known, but hardly less 
 useful, rank and file of the King's army. Some of 
 all those classes were converted through the instru- 
 mentality of Duncan Matheson. To his sword, in- 
 deed, which seemed seldom to return empty, ever 
 fell a full share of the spoils of this glorious war. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE DIOCESE OF OPEN AIR. 
 
 The Huntly meetings played an important part in 
 connection with the work of grace in the north of 
 Scotland. They had their origin in a thought of 
 Duncan Matheson's, and to him under God they 
 owed no small part of their success. One day, 
 pondering the best means of promoting the good 
 work, the thought of gathering the people from the 
 surrounding country for a great field-day of the Gos- 
 pel in the Castle Park flashed across his mind. After 
 prayerful consideration of the scheme, he mentioned 
 it to his fellow-laborers, Mr. AA^illiamson and Mr. 
 Bain, as they were all three returning from Cullen 
 feeing market, where they had been preaching. 
 They resolved to lay the matter before the Lord. 
 There and then, wearied though they were, they be- 
 took themselves to the throne of grace, and as the 
 train was speeding on its way, they cried to God for 
 
 I 
 
The Duchess of Gordon. 215 
 
 light to guide tliem. Light was not withheld : the 
 scheme was settled at the mercy-seat. The use of 
 the Castle Park, with suitable aid in other respects, 
 was freely accorded by the Duchess of Gordon, and 
 preparations were made, the burden of which mainly 
 rested on Mr. Matheson and his pastor. The labor 
 thus entailed was extremely great, and our evange- 
 list was Avell-nigh crushed beneath the load of re- 
 sponsibility and care. After a sleepless and prayer- 
 ful night on the eve of the Huntly meetings, he said 
 to me, " I feel as if I were breaking down. I have 
 been putting up blood, and feel very ill. Sometimes 
 Satan tempts me to take it easier, and do less for 
 isouls : he whispers when I am speaking in the open 
 air, ' You had better take it easier, or you'll burst a 
 blood-vessel.' But 1 just reply, ' Never mind if 1 do ; 
 I could not die in a better cause.' " 
 
 The object of these meetings was stated in a print- 
 ed request for special prayer. "We do not believe," 
 said the pastor and the evangelist, " in any special 
 virtue in meetings in the open air. We put no con- 
 fidence in any peculiar form of address, neither in 
 any instrument. But we do believe in the power 
 of prayer : we believe ' the hour is coming and iixyw 
 is, when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of 
 God; and they that hear shall live.' We believe it 
 a good thing and ground of hope to see a number 
 of the Lord's people met together ' with one accord 
 in one place.' And we most firmly believe that the 
 God of all grace may be expected to honor such 
 
2i6 open-air Meetings at Huntly. 
 
 meetings and efforts, when preceded and accom- 
 ' panied by earnest and united prayer for the out- 
 pouring of his Spirit. 
 
 " We, therefore, most earnestly ask secret, social, 
 . and united prayer, that the arm of the Lord may be 
 revealed ; that Jesus may be lifted up, and draw all 
 men unto Him ; and that throughout eternity many 
 may have cause to bless God that they were present 
 at these meetings and found salvation." 
 
 The first meetings were held on the 25th and 
 26th July, 1860, and were renewed for three succes- 
 sive summers. Many thousands assembled year by 
 year in the Castle Park, with its hoary ruins tow- 
 ering amid the softest scenes of sylvan beauty. Here 
 of old the Gordon clan were wont to gather in prep- 
 aration for some distant and bloody raid. Now 
 another clan assembles for very different ends. The 
 children of Zion gather themselves together to meet 
 their King ; the soldiers of the cross rally around the 
 standard of Christ. The coming and goin^ of the 
 people to serve God amidst the loveliest retreats of 
 nature reminded one of the conventicles of the Cov- 
 enanters in some remote glen or dewy hollow, and 
 of the still more memorable scenes when multitudes 
 gathered round the Prince of open-air preachers by 
 the shores of the Sea of Galilee. Here nature and 
 grace embrace each other in true fellowship, and 
 the works of God throw a peculiar charm around 
 his word and worship. The lofty canopy of heaven 
 reminds you of the true tabernacle which God hath 
 
A Suggestive Scene. 217 
 
 pitched, and not man. The fair landscapes on every 
 side picture heavenly things to the sense, and shadow 
 forth in natural form and hue the invisible glories of 
 the spirit-world. The grassy plains suggest the green 
 pastures where the Good Shepherd feeds his flock, 
 and makes them rest at noon. The sighing of the 
 wind among the trees, and the warbling of the birds, 
 seem like the rustling of angels' wings, and the stir 
 of ministering spirits sent forth to minister to the 
 heirs of salvation. The pure air comes to wearied 
 pilgrims like deep, refreshing draughts from the 
 Creator's wine-cup. The sweet sunshine is to faith 
 but the visible radiance of the Redeemer's face ; and 
 the alternations of light and shade are like the mys- 
 terious comings and goings of our God in his sanc- 
 tuary. The very sound and shock of the falling rain 
 carry into the believer's heart symboled thoughts of 
 grace far more true to nature than the peal of organs 
 or the swell of pompous choirs. Altogether there is 
 a naturalness, a simplicity, and a freedom more akin 
 to the spirit and privilege of new-covenant service 
 than is often realized in those dull artificial caverns 
 in which custom and the rigors of climate compel 
 us to worship. Sitting under the shadow of cum- 
 brous roofs and dingy walls, and too oft fettered by 
 form, truth, love, joy, and praise, pine away like 
 caged birds; but out in the open, unbounded ex- 
 panse, where form is simplest and sense is purest, 
 worship is the more free and unrestrained. 
 
 It was pleasing to witness the assembling of the 
 
2i8 The Assembly in the Castle Park. 
 
 people in tlie Castle Park ; old and young, rich and 
 poor, master and man are there. Yonder the hon- 
 est cotter, with his wife and bairns in the rude cart 
 consecrated to the service of God, it may be for the 
 first time, jogs cheerfully along not far behind the 
 gig of the well-to-do farmer, whose wife and daugh- 
 ters are looking forward to the ongoings of the day 
 with deeper and stronger feelings than any they 
 ever felt on their way to kirk or market. Some 
 are trudging on foot, and all are talking with more 
 or less personal interest in the great event of the 
 time — the Eevival. Listen to yon knot of plough- 
 men and farm-lads. One wonders "what it's gaun 
 to come tae." Another " kens weel aneuch what it's 
 gaun to come tae, for lie has fan't in his ain heart ; 
 it has brocht him to Christ, an' it'll bring him to 
 heaven." A third admits that "a wonderfu' change 
 has come o'er Jake Tamson ; for there was na a rocher 
 chiel in a' the country side, an' noo he's as hairmless 
 as a stirk, an' sings an' prays inste.ad o' swearin' an' 
 fechtin' as he used to do." "Eh, mon," says a half- 
 grown lad, "gin ye only heard my brither Jock! 
 he prays like a minister ; in fack, his prayer is ilka 
 bit as gude as the pairish minister's prayer on the 
 Sacrament Sunday." 
 
 "Do you ever take God's name in vain?" asks a 
 minister of the Gospel of one of these herd laddies. 
 "Na, na, sir; God's children never sweer." 
 "You are one of his children, then? When did 
 that come about?" 
 
Somg of the Converts. 219 
 
 "Weel, sir," says the lad, "it was at the IMerti- 
 miss term last year, when I gaed hame to see my 
 father's fouk. I wonnert when I saw a' things sae 
 sair changed. My father was changed, an' the hoose 
 was changed-like. An' my father, he prayed afore 
 the supper an' after the supper, an' he never used 
 to say a grace at a'. An' syne he said, ' Fesh ben 
 the buik ; ' an' he read, an' he sang, an' s}T:ie they a' 
 gaed doon upon their knees, an' I never saw that 
 afore. An' my father he prayed, an' I grat, an' we 
 a' grat, an' I Avas convertit that nicht. That was 
 Mertimiss last year, ye ken, an' I never could sweer 
 sin' syne." 
 
 The full meaning of all this can be comprehended 
 only by those who know what a northern bothy used 
 to be. There, if anywhere on earth, Satan was wont 
 to have his seat; now, however, to some extent the 
 "strong man" has been displaced by a stronger than 
 he. 
 
 The greater number came by rail, which, in this 
 way serving God as well as man, seemed to antici- 
 pate the day when "holiness to the Lord" shall be 
 upon the bells of the horses, and doubtless also on 
 the whistles of the engines. In one carriage prayer 
 is being offered for a special blessing on the meet- 
 ings. In another the Word is read with comments, 
 homely enough, but well seasoned with a devout 
 spirit and a gracious experience. In a third a dis- 
 tressed soul is being lovingly dealt with ; difficulties 
 are cleared away, and the cross lifted up before the 
 
220 TJie Voice of Song on the Train. 
 
 eye of the afflicted sinner. High over all, and above 
 even the din of the train, is heard the voice of holy 
 song. One group is singing "Kock of Ages, cleft 
 for me ; " in another part of the train you can hear 
 the splendid burst of the ancient church, 
 
 "All people that on earth do dwell, 
 Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice." 
 
 A traveller who has left his religion at home — per- 
 haps because it was scarcely worth the carriage — 
 is to be pitied, for in escaping from one compartment 
 to another he finds that he is only out of the pan and 
 into the fire. It would be a curious turning of the 
 tables if some day this poor foolish Avorld should be 
 so filled with purity, goodness, and the love of God, 
 that the few remaining sinners, to escape the gentle 
 persecution of light and grace, should flee for refuge 
 to dens and caves of the earth. Then, indeed, the 
 church would be "fair as the moon, clear as the sun, 
 and terrible as an army with banners." 
 
 The services were characterized by the fervor and 
 simplicity of the prayers, the heartiness and jubi- 
 lance of the praises, and the variety, directness, and 
 power of the addresses, full as these were of the 
 richest truths of the Gospel, and fragrant with the 
 perfumes of tlie one great Name. In love, joy, and 
 unanimity, the believers seemed to anticipate the 
 general assembly of the Church of the first-born in 
 heaven, and the triumj)hant services before the 
 throne. On the other hand, the deep shadows of 
 
 I 
 
Testimony of an Eye-witness. 221 
 
 eternal verities seemed to rest on the minds of the 
 unconverted, not a few of whom found Him whom 
 they sought after, and sometimes, ere the tears were 
 dry on their cheeks, were beginning to "rejoice 
 with joy unspeakable and full of glory." 
 
 The testimony of an eye-witness, a venerable min- 
 ister of Christ, may be here given. " During each 
 day," he writes, " numbers Avere personally spoken 
 with and sj^ecially prayed for, in every stage of re- 
 ligious concern. Not a few were awakened for the 
 first time during the time of the meetings, princi- 
 pally by witnessing the great earnestness manifested 
 in prayer in behalf of the unconvert-ed, as well as by 
 listening to the pointed and soul-searching appeals 
 addressed to the various classes. Others, who had 
 previously been under great spiritual distress, had 
 come some of them twenty and even thirty miles, 
 as well as lesser distances, seeking relief to a con- 
 science ill at ease. In the case of others who came 
 under our notice, former convictions that had well- 
 nigh died out were revived with double power. 
 The superficial observer could form no correct esti- 
 mate of the amount of impression by merely look- 
 ing at the appearance of the assembly; for there 
 was comparatively little manifestation of emotional 
 excitement ; nor by simply looking at those in the 
 tent and marquee, who professedly took their place 
 among other inquirers. We found numbers of the 
 most interesting cases of this class at a distance 
 from the crowd, either holding intercourse with God 
 
222 Interesting Cases. 
 
 alone, and breathing into his ear their noiseless 
 grief; or in some by-corner holding close conversa- 
 tion with some godly friend who sympathized with 
 them ; or in the midst of little groups among the 
 trees, where spiritual things were freely talked over 
 by those with open Bibles in their hand, following 
 up conversation with prayer. We conversed with 
 several persons, some of them considerably advanced 
 in years, upon whose minds something like the dark 
 shadow of despair had been brooding for months. 
 They could distinctly tell what was the matter with 
 them, and what they needed; but somehow they 
 stumbled at the simplicity of entering upon the way 
 of life as sketched in the charter of human salva- 
 tion. Of the above-mentioned cases a considerable 
 number, before they left the meetings, were enabled 
 to leave their sins and their sorrows within the 
 shadow of the mercy-seat at the foot of the cross, 
 and went home in possession of a good hope through 
 grace. All who took pains to make themselves ac- 
 quainted with what we have stated are firmly per- 
 suaded, and on good grounds, that in connection 
 with these meetings, 'to Satan many captives were 
 lost, and to Christ many subjects were born.'" 
 
 The meetings were held for two successive days 
 every summer, from 1860 to 1863 inclusive. Dun- 
 can Matheson was the presiding genius of the ar- 
 rangements : he was everywhere and in every thing. 
 Here speaking to an afflicted soul, there encourag- 
 ing a young Christian ; now pouring out his quaint, 
 
TJie Bow of Promise. 223 
 
 spirit-stirring speech amidst a group of youths, 
 and a moment after gravely settKng some deep ex- 
 perimental question with an aged pilgrim. Almost 
 at the same point of time he is providing lodgings 
 for his friends, and making suggestions of the most 
 sagacious character as to the programme of reli- 
 gious services. Now he is leading the devotions of 
 the great assembly in his own impressive and Elijah- 
 like manner, and in less than five minutes he is in 
 the outskirts of the crowd, endeavoring by wise, 
 kind words to hush some rising controversy. At 
 every juncture he knows what to do. When the 
 people were hurr^dng away on account of a thun- 
 der-storm, he stopped them by reminding them that 
 the Covenanters could stand a shower of bullets, 
 and that God can stay the rain in answer to prayer. 
 Prayer was offered, and the rain ceased. " Look! " 
 exclaimed the evangelist. ' ' Behold the bow of prom- 
 ise spanning the heavens! emblem of God's good- 
 will to earth." All eyes were turned to look on the 
 rainbow, " like unto an emerald around the throne 
 of God." Revealing itself just as the thunder-torrent 
 swept over the horizon of the distant hill, as if 
 chased away by the sudden outburst of sunshine, it 
 symbolized to many the glory of God in the face of 
 Jesus Christ, in whose cross mercy and truth are 
 met together, righteousness and peace have kissed 
 each other. ]\Iany who have forgotten the preach- 
 ing, remember the lesson of the evangelist, who, 
 with hand uplifted to heaven, bade the vast multi- 
 
224 Results of the Work. 
 
 tude read the Gospel in the sky, and see the beauty 
 of Jesus in the bow with its matchless hues. 
 
 It was a good work to bring together so many 
 thousands of Christians to sing the same song, to 
 mingle faith, hope, and charity in the same prayer, 
 and to encourage one another in the common Lord. 
 It was the gathering of all the live coals into one 
 great fire, whose flames were bright enough to illu- 
 minate no small part of Scotland. In this way the 
 evils of sectarianism were mitigated, and the bonds 
 of Christian brotherhood strengthened. Young con- 
 verts, suffering from isolation and the lack of fellow- 
 ship, were refreshed and sent on their way rejoicing. 
 The poor starved sheep of Christ's flock were fed on 
 green pastures and strengthened to endure. Perse- 
 cuted believers, reproached by friends, scorned by 
 neighbors, cast off by companions, and frowned 
 upon by carnal pastors, were emboldened to fight 
 the good fight of faith. ]\Iany who were halting 
 between two opinions, being uncertain as to the 
 nature and tendencies of the great movement of 
 the time, had their doubts and fears cleared away. 
 Many earnest and faithful ministers of the Gospel 
 went home from those happy scenes to labor in their 
 own quiet vineyards with a still holier zeal, live- 
 lier hope, and deeper joy. Many saints returned 
 to walk more closely with their God; and some 
 whom we knew received at the Huntly meetings 
 a double meal, like Elijah in the wilderness, in the 
 strength of which they went, and came even to the 
 
Double Grace. 225 
 
 momit of God. To many it was the starting-point 
 of their pilgrimage to Zion, and the sweet memories 
 of those gracious espousals and first loves will merit 
 and inspire "nobler songs above." In short, thou- 
 sands live to praise God for the open-air meetings 
 in the Castle Park, and similar meetings elsewhere, 
 of which the gathering at Huntly was at once the 
 parent and the broad, distinct pattern. 
 
 Thus the little germ of thought arising in the 
 mind of our evangelist bore choicest fruits in mar- 
 vellous abundance. It was part of the arduous 
 and honorable work assigned him by his Master. 
 A double grace was bestowed upon him in it — 
 grace to do the work faithfully and well, and the 
 grace of abounding success. For this kind of work 
 he was pre-eminently well qualified. His power- 
 ful physique, his cheerful countenance, his exultant 
 voice, his overflowing humor, his innocent, and 
 childlike egotism which carried in it something of 
 the charm of genius, his practical sagacity and swift 
 decision, his fertility of resource and power to grasp 
 a multitude of details, his keen-eyed intuition of 
 human character, his ability to inspire and com- 
 mand, his invincible ardor in the presence of dif- 
 ficulties, his great faith, largeness of heart, and 
 Christian self-sacrifice, combined to fit him in an 
 extraordinary degree for the masterly and success- 
 ful management of a great undertaking such as this 
 really was. There were many witnesses to the grace 
 and truth of Christ at the Huntly meetings, minis- 
 15 
 
226 Conference on the Azvakcning. 
 
 ters of every name, learned professors, eloquent di- 
 vines, lawyers, physicians, lords, land-owners, mer- 
 chants, officers of the army and navy, and many 
 others down to the fisherman and the butcher, who 
 said, "I canna write my ain name, but it has been 
 written by the finger o' Anither — written in blood 
 in the Lamb's book o' life," one of the truest and 
 noblest of them all was the old stone-cutter, Dun- 
 can Matheson. His it was not merely to speak for 
 Christ, but to gather up this great united testimony, 
 which illustrated the unity of the true faith as it has 
 seldom been illustrated in our own day or in our 
 fathers. His it was to concentrate as in a focus the 
 scattered rays of the glorious sun that was then 
 pouring his golden floods upon our favored land, 
 alike on hill and dale, on barren moorland and fruit- 
 ful field. 
 
 At a "conference on the subject of the present 
 religious awakening," held in the Free South Church, 
 Aberdeen, on August 15th, 1861, we find our evan- 
 gelist saying: "Revival is an established fact. It is 
 a great fact. Thousands, many thousands, have felt 
 the power of God in their own souls. I do not, per- 
 haps, know of one place in the county of Aberdeen 
 where there are not living witnesses to the power 
 of God's grace and the might of his Spirit. There 
 is one thing that has always struck me with won- 
 der : it is this — Why should we think it a strange 
 thing to see a work like this work of revival? If 
 we believe God's Word at all, we must believe that 
 
Mr. Mathesoii's Address. 227 
 
 He is able, willing, and mighty to save. Why Avon- 
 der, then, that He is saving so many? Might we 
 not rather expect that He will do far greater things ? 
 A man said to me, 'Are you in the revival?' 'No, 
 sir,' 1 replied, 'the revival is in me ; it is in my heart.' 
 I believe that many of God's people feel this. We 
 never did feel so much joy, and blessedness, and 
 gladness, as since these blessed days when the Lord 
 has been pouring out his Spirit — planting flowers 
 in his garden that will bloom through an endless 
 eternity. I could hardly tell you where I have not 
 seen God's work. I have been wandering for nearly 
 four years — north, south, east, and west — and the 
 Lord is doing great things every^vhere. We see the 
 sheaves being gathered to God's harvest-home ; and 
 what can we do but say, ' Our God reigns ; verily 
 we have seen the salvation of Israel ; verily we have 
 seen answered the prayers of the men whose blood 
 was shed in defence of our faith — the witnesses 
 whose souls have been crying under the altar.' 
 And we have only seen the beginning ; the end is 
 at hand. Why, I ask again, should this be thought 
 a strange thing ? What is the great end of the Chris- 
 tian ministry? There is no antagonism between us 
 and the ministry ; we go as breakers-up of the way 
 and God has been pleased to own us. We do not 
 interfere in the least with the constituted ministry ; 
 for I believe, as solemnly as I do in any part of God's 
 Word, that He has appointed a ministry for the con- 
 version of souls, and the upbuilding of his people ; 
 
228 Near the Gates of Heaven. 
 
 and the cry of our heart day by day is, ' Oh, would 
 that all the Lord's people were prophets ! ' We look 
 and see day by day souls going down to perdition ; 
 and if we believe in a heaven and hell, in an unend- 
 ing eternity, Ave will go forth like men going to quell 
 fire, sa}dng, 'Stop, poor sinner! come with us, and 
 we will do thee good ; for the Lord hath spoken good 
 concerning Israel. ' I might tell in this meeting what 
 I have seen in many places. I might speak of what 
 
 I witnessed in S during the last few days ; of the 
 
 awful solemnity upon our spirits, when it seemed as 
 if we felt the immediate power of God in our hearts ; 
 and we were almost afraid to speak, as if one felt 
 very near the gates of heaven. Some of us felt so 
 
 at S . And when we saw the Lord working 
 
 and the slain so many, we lifted up our hearts and 
 sang, "Hallelujah! for the Lord God omnipotent 
 reigneth.' 
 
 "One thing I have seen, and I have thanked the 
 Lord for it ; it has done immense good ; it is the de- 
 liverance of the last Free General Assembly on this 
 great and glorious work. The results from that de- 
 liverance, the good it has done, we cannot estimate. 
 I have seen members of the Free Church lifted up 
 in their souls, and thanking God for that noble tes- 
 timony. Since it was issued it has given a great 
 impetus to the work. It has been true, and always 
 will be true to the end, ' Them that honor Me I will 
 honor.' I have seen the objections of many scat- 
 tered to the winds since it was given. And since 
 
Mr. Turner, of Peterhead. 229 
 
 it was read from the pulpits of tlie cliiirclies, I have 
 seen a manifest blessing upon the ministry and the 
 people. Let me remark this other thing — that some 
 people always find fault. Well, we cannot help it; 
 and we admit that there are very many things that . 
 we ourselves cannot prevent, that yet we do not de- 
 sire. A great many things have been said about 
 inquiry meetings. I look upon these as the most 
 solemn part of the work — -just dealing with souls face 
 to face. It is of great importance that all who thus 
 speak to the anxious should be known — that their \^ 
 real state and character before God should be tested. 
 We should know also that they have something of 
 that wisdom that cometh down from above. I be- 
 lieve there are many of God's people Avho fail in this 
 work. I have seen them giving the comforts of 
 God's children to the anxious. I have heard godly 
 persons sa;y^ng to such, 'Wait God's time ; ' and, 'You 
 are in a very hopeful state,' just strangling their con- 
 victions. Oh, if there is one part of the work in 
 which we need more than in another the aid of the 
 Holy Spirit, it is in dealing with anxious souls. 
 
 " Mr. Eoss has spoken about the coast. I know a 
 great deal about the coast, and upon this coast no 
 one has been more honored than Mr. Turner, of 
 Peterhead. That man's footsteps, speaking after the 
 manner of men, I have been able to trace all romid 
 the coast. Look at Banff — what a work he has done 
 there ; and at Portknockie, Buckie, Portgordon. You 
 see the Lord taking that instrument and using him ; 
 
230 Sound Teaching. 
 
 he was used for a time, and then put aside. It is a 
 solemn thing when God uses a man for a time, and 
 then puts liim aside. It is not the opposition of man 
 we fear. I was never able to do any thing till I was 
 opposed, and so it has been with others. I would 
 remark, in closing, that I have always seen the work 
 produce greatest fruits under the soundest teaching. 
 An old Highland minister said, 'It is a dangerous 
 thing for a child to get bad milk ; ' and you gener- 
 ally see where there is not sound teaching they are 
 like the young thrushes, ready to eat mud if given 
 to them. They have no discernment. But where 
 there is sound teaching they grow up like calves in 
 the stall; the grace of God is in them, and we see it 
 shining. There is just this in it — the good old doc- 
 / trines will stand the test, for they are built upon the 
 / Kock of Ages. Oh, may we hold them fast; and 
 when we depart hence, leave behind us 'footprints 
 on the sands of time,' or, rather, on the shores of 
 eternity." 
 
 Not content with scouring his native country, he 
 sometimes crossed the border, and everywhere the 
 strong voice and steady hand w^ere raised to point 
 men to the cross. In the autumn of 1862 he visited 
 his old friends, the soldiers, at Aldershot, and de- 
 scribed his visit in the following letter, which ap- 
 peared in Tlie Revival : * 
 
 "My Dear Friend: Swiftly has the time passed 
 
 * A weekly periodical now incorporated with " The. Christian." 
 
His Visit to Aldei'shot. 231 
 
 since I came here, and never throughout eternity- 
 shall I forget my visit to this place. There is not 
 a spot in Britain around which such interest clings, 
 and for which more prayer has been offered up. 
 
 " My heart thrilled as I saw a camp once more, 
 heard the strains of martial music, and gazed on the 
 red coats, either singly, or in groups, or regiments 
 marching along. The past was brought vividly be- 
 fore me, but the contrast could hardly be realized. 
 In the Crimea, day and night, nothing was heard 
 but the roar of the cannon, or the din of battle ; and 
 during a long dreary winter, nothing seen but mis- 
 ery, that made the heart bleed, borne with calm en- 
 durance and heroic valor, giving English history 
 a page it never had. It is true that at Aldershot 
 the bugle sounds, but it calls only to parade, or 
 to take part in mimic fights. Kegiments march, 
 biit not to battle. The gun fires, but only to mark 
 the hours as they pass along. The scene is bust- 
 ling but peaceful, and order reigns in the camp 
 supreme. 
 
 " I have met few old friends, for death has done 
 his work, and the heroes of Alma, Inkermann, Se- 
 bastopol, have passed away — yes, away like the 
 snow-flakes before the summer's sun, or the leaves 
 of the forest before the wintry blast. In the lone 
 graveyard here, on the bleak moor side, lie many 
 who escaped unscathed amidst the iron showers and 
 the deadly pestilence. With constitutions impaired, 
 they returned to die, leaving as an heir-loom in many 
 
232 Description of the Work There. 
 
 a home the medal and its bars of glory, worn but 
 for a little, and then laid aside forever. Sic transit 
 gloria mundi. 
 
 "It is estimated that during the summer from 
 15,000 to 18,000 men are stationed here, and the in- 
 fluence of such a mass on the town of Alder shot is 
 of the most ruinous kind. Much has been written 
 about it, and yet it is impossible to make the pic- 
 ture too dark, or to bring out in relief its degrading 
 aspects. Just think of upwards of seventy public- 
 houses outside the camp, and you will realize in 
 some measure the seething mass of iniquity behind. 
 The camp has made the town what it is, and the 
 town sends back to the camp the curse intensified 
 it has given. Many a daughter comes here to die, 
 over whom a mother, it may be in the far north of 
 Scotland, is weeping day and night. One was asked 
 lately if she had a mother ; and, as if stung by a 
 serpent, she fled out of sight. Another says she 
 is dying fast, but asks what she can do. A third 
 laughs ; but it is hollow, coming from a heart torn 
 with anguish, from burning fires within, fed by the 
 memory of home and days gone — never more to 
 come back again. 
 
 "Blessed be God, all is not dark. The cloud has 
 a silver lining ! There is much to quicken and cheer ; 
 for the great God is visiting the camp, and drops of 
 blessing have descended. Witness after witness is 
 being raised, and the prayers, so long lying on the 
 altar, are being answered. Hardly a week passes 
 
Mi's. Daniell. 233 
 
 but there is an accession to the Kttle army, and 
 twelve prayer-meetings are held weekly by the men 
 themselves. At some of these I have seen sixty men 
 and a few officers present. What songs from yom-s 
 'Hymns of Prayer and Praise' they sang! With 
 what a heart did they peal out 'Eest for the weary,' 
 and with what holy pleading did they cry for their 
 comrades diifting to perdition ! The leaven is work- 
 ing ; the seed is springing up ; and many are halting 
 — lingering at the gate. 
 
 "Mrs. Daniell, so well known for her labors in the 
 cause of Christ, has founded a mission for Aldershot, 
 and forty officers and men have come forward as 
 volunteers to help her on. The United Presbyterian 
 Church is organizing a congregation, and will, I 
 doubt not, succeed. May God speed them, and 
 may their chiu^ch be the birth-place of many a soul. 
 May He also bless the labors of the chaplains and 
 Scripture-readers, whose work is so arduous, and who 
 need more than common wisdom and zeal. Night 
 after night I preached outside the camjD in the open 
 air, with a body-guard of Christian soldiers around 
 me, some of w^hom, with much feeling, have ad- 
 dressed their comrades passing by. 
 
 " What noble missionaries these soldiers, if con- 
 verted, would make ! How would their influence 
 tell amongst the heathen abroad! What a sight 
 to see Britain sending forth an army of living men 
 displa}Hng a banner for the truth ! 
 
 " I feel assured there is many a Hedley Vicars, 
 
234 R^v. H. M. Williams 07t's Recollections 
 
 Hammond, Vandeleur, Marjouram amongst them, 
 and that God, by His Spirit, will soon bring them 
 out. Aldershot is the cradle of the British army. The 
 fire here is kindled. The work has begun. The 
 Prince of Peace is saving souls, and God is calling 
 on his people to bestir themselves. England, Scot- 
 land, Ireland, your sons need help. Will you cry 
 for the army, and forget not Aldershot ? 
 
 " Yours in the Lord, 
 
 " Duncan Matheson, 
 " Late Soldiers' Missionary in the Crimea." 
 
 The Eev. H. M. Williamson, Belfast, who was at 
 once the pastor and fellow-evangelist of Mr. Mathe- 
 son, writes: 
 
 " Confining myself to what I have witnessed, I 
 would like to give you a brief sketch of his labors 
 in the north of Scotland. He used to map out a dis- 
 trict, and arrange for an evangelistic tour, extending 
 over six or eight days. I frequently accompanied 
 him on such expeditions. Starting perhaps on a 
 Monday, we were accustomed to preach generally 
 twice each day, holding meetings in all conceivable 
 places — in barns, on the squares and streets of vil- 
 lages, under the trees of the woods, sometimes in 
 various churches placed at our disposal. He thor- 
 oughly knew the feelings, habits, and prejudices of 
 his countrymen, and with singular sagacity he em- 
 ployed that knowledge to gain the attention of his 
 hearers and a favorable hearing for the Gospel. He 
 
of Work witJi Mr. Matheson. 235 
 
 was never at a loss, and full of hope ; he had a rem- 
 edy for every difficulty, and was ready for every 
 emergency. Let me give you as an illustration a 
 scene which occurred on one of our preaching ex- 
 peditions. We had arranged to hold a meeting in 
 the streets of a certain village. The place was 
 drowned in drink, and consequently spiritually dead 
 above most places. At the appointed hour we made 
 our appearance, and having made our way to the 
 square of the village, and having borrowed a chair 
 for a pulpit, we were prepared to proceed; but 
 audience there was none, save two or three ragged 
 children, who gathered round and stared at us as a 
 curiosity. It was certainly a situation exceedingly 
 trying to flesh and blood, and one that gave ample 
 room for the exercise of faith. Matheson by the 
 grace of God, was equal to the occasion. I think I 
 hear his cheery Avords, as he said to me, speaking 
 in his broadest Doric, 'Haud on, baud on, Mr. Wil- 
 liamson, for a wee bit as weel as ye can, an' I'll fetch 
 out the folk wi' the help o' God.' He started off, 
 leaving me on the chair — no envied position, I assure 
 you — with the children for my audience. He started 
 off, and beginning at the extreme end of the village, 
 he knocked at every door, and cried aloud as he could 
 cry, 'Come awa' out, come awa' out; the Gospel is 
 come to the town ; ' and using at the same time, with 
 his usual sagacity, the children he met as his agents, 
 he said, ' Kin, laddie rin ; and tell yer mither to come 
 aw a' to the square, and hear the preaching.' We had 
 
236 Remarkable Incidents. 
 
 a meeting — a successful meeting — Ave adjourned in 
 the evening to a church in the village; and I have 
 good reason to believe that redeemed souls in eter- 
 nity will bless God for that meeting. 
 
 "There are few parishes in Aberdeenshire and 
 Banffshire in which the name of Duncan Matheson 
 is not known and loved, and very few in which he 
 has not preached the Gospel. The extent of the 
 blessing which rested upon his labors shall only be 
 known on that day when the secrets of all hearts 
 are made manifest. I regret exceedingly that the 
 account of all these labors is now lost forever. 
 Had he been spared to give it, it Avould have been 
 a record of the Lord's doings of thrilling interest, 
 and well fitted to strengthen every laborer in the 
 Lord's vineyard. Many incidents attending his 
 work were of a very remarkable nature, and if they 
 had been recorded would have been pregnant with 
 instruction and encouragement. I remember while 
 holding a meeting one night in a certain place an 
 occurrence which made a deep impression upon me 
 at the time, and which I had occasion to mark 
 afterwards. The meeting was crowded, and better 
 still, it Avas full of spiritual poAver. Many souls were 
 deeply wounded under tlie sharp strokes of the Holy 
 Ghost. Some smitten ones Avere crying out, ' What 
 must we do to be saved ? ' 
 
 " While we were going about among the anxious, 
 seeking as we were enabled to point them to the 
 Lamb of God, the individual Avho had control over 
 
Conference at Hnntly Lodge. 237 
 
 the place of meeting began to urge the people to go 
 home, and to crown his advice he proceeded to pnt 
 out the lights. I think I hear Matheson as turning 
 to me he said, 'Mr. Williamson, mark my words, 
 you will see something happen to that man — the 
 Lord will put out his candle ! ' Matheson, though 
 pretending to no spirit of prophecy, knew how dan- 
 gerous it is to meddle with the work of the Holy 
 Spirit. And so it came to pass. Matheson lived 
 to see that man disgraced and dishonored, and 
 driven from his position. But if I persevere in call- 
 ing up the events of these years of blessing my let- 
 ter will swell into a volume. 
 
 "The great gatherings for Christian fellowship 
 and for preaching the everlasting Gospel with which 
 Scotland, and especially in the northern parts, was 
 favored in past years are closely connected with 
 Duncan Matheson. 
 
 " Shortly after the work of the Spirit began to be 
 manifest in the awakening and conversion of sin- 
 ners in Aberdeenshire in the years 1858-9, a confer- 
 ence of ministers was held at Huntly Lodge, under 
 the auspices of the late Duchess of Gordon. That 
 conference brought out the fact, that the work of 
 God was much more extensive and thorough than 
 any one had supposed. The work still made prog- 
 ress under opposition of various kinds and from all 
 sources. Matheson traversed almost every parish of 
 Aberdeenshire and the district around, everywhere 
 preaching the Gospel, and much blessing was added. 
 
238 The Gathering at H^intly 
 
 " Keturning from one of these preaching expedi- 
 tions, he proposed to me the idea of a grand gath- 
 ering at Huntly, seeking the aid of men of all 
 churches, both lay and clerical, whom God had 
 honored in the work of revival. The proposal took 
 shape. It was approved of by the Duchess of Gor- 
 don, and by others whose good judgment, spirit- 
 uality of mind, and zeal for the cause of God we 
 could trust. The whole arrangements of the meet- 
 ings were put into Matheson's hands, and the re- 
 sults were great and blessed. Multitudes of believ- 
 ers from every corner of the land were refreshed 
 and strengthened, and multitudes of the unsaved 
 brought to Jesus. 
 
 "He had a singular gift for organizing such 
 meetings. He thoroughly knew the people, as I 
 have stated, — their mode of life, their habits, their 
 prejudices on religious subjects, their wants, and 
 then* religious position. And with all this knowl- 
 edge, when the meetings were assembled, he ar- 
 ranged accordingly with wonderful tact — he put 
 the right man in the right place. He aimed at the 
 conversion of sinners as the great end of the meet- 
 ings, and in carrying out this end he exhibited 
 marvellous spiritual instinct in selecting the right 
 speaker at the right time to give, under the Holy 
 Spirit, the message which would bring about the 
 blessed end. He knew too the men that were 
 mighty in prayer, and endeavored to keep them, 
 with praying companions, lifting up holy hands 
 
Proposed and Organized. 239 
 
 without wrath and doubting. And in this matter 
 he suffered no respect for persons to -interfere. The 
 men he beheved were hkely to be the instruments 
 in the hands of the Spirit to do the work needed at 
 any particular time in the services, these he brought 
 forward. 
 
 "You and I have seen, in other cases and at sim- 
 ilar gatherings, the whole work marred, and the 
 fruit almost completely lost, because those who con- 
 ducted such meetings deemed themselves bound to 
 put forward speakers in a prescribed order, because 
 of their social position or ministerial standing in 
 church connection. 
 
 "Matheson never for a moment allowed such 
 considerations to influence him. The result corre- 
 sponded. As he sought to honor the Holy Spirit, 
 and keep a single eye on the great end, the salva- 
 tion of souls, much fruit appeared. 
 
 " His efforts in preaching the Gospel in the feeing 
 markets of Aberdeenshire were also attended with 
 a very abundant blessing. It is a question upon 
 which, perhaps. Christian men form different opin- 
 ions. I think it admits of no controversy with all 
 who are taught of God, that whenever men are 
 willing to hear the Gospel, then the Gospel should 
 be preached to them. Now, it is also a fact beyond 
 dispute, that for some years the Lord poured such 
 a spirit of hearing upon the people that they were 
 willing to hear ; and this also I may add, I have seen 
 as marked and manifest fruits of the Spirit's presence 
 
240 The Scattered Laborers. 
 
 and power attending these market-preacliings as I 
 have ever witnessed on the Sabbath and in the most 
 solemn assembly. This market-preaching was a de- 
 partment of labor for which Matheson was in many 
 ways singularly fitted. Ready for every emergency, 
 and with a tact which usually disarmed opposition, 
 with a courage that never faltered, and with a voice 
 like the tongue of a trumpet, he labored in this field 
 most laboriously, and in it I feel persuaded reaped 
 many sheaves of the harvest of the Lord. I have 
 met many in later years who have testified that 
 they would have cause to bless God forever for 
 these market-preachings. 
 
 " Alas, the band of laborers in that field are now 
 widely scattered ! What sweet and solemn memo- 
 ries of these days and of the beloved fellow-laborers 
 who wrought in this work with us ! The saintly 
 Macgregor and the good soldiers of Jesus Christ, 
 Colonel Ramsey and Major Gibson, and the fearless 
 Matheson — a prince of evangelists — all gone to their 
 rest and their reward. The devoted pastors. Bain 
 and Forbes, and Fullarton and Campbell (tried and 
 true helpers), Tytler, and Macpherson, and Anderson 
 still with us, and many other beloved brethren who 
 have never been ashamed of the Gospel of Christ. 
 
 " But this letter is drawn out far beyond what I 
 intended, and yet I feel as if I had said almost noth- 
 ing concerning the labors of our departed friend. 
 Let me add, he was one of the most unselfish of 
 men ; he would and often did share his last shilling 
 
The Gospel at Village Fairs. 241 
 
 with a poor saint. He was ever ready to commend 
 the Gospel to the careless and the scoffer by deeds 
 of generosity and liberality. What the Church owes 
 to Matheson has never been acknowledged. His 
 share in elevating the standard of religious profes- 
 sion in the land, and especially in the northern part, 
 has never been justly estimated. But his reward is 
 on high. 'They that be wise shall shine as the 
 brightness of the firmament, and they that turn 
 many to righteousness as the stars forever and 
 
 An important part of our evangelist's mission was 
 the preaching of the Gospel in village fairs. The fee- 
 ing market, at which farmers engage their servants 
 from one half year to another, is a long-established 
 institution in the northern counties of Scotland. It 
 is usually held in the street or neighborhood of some 
 little town or village. Early in the morning of the 
 market-day there is a wonderful stir in the erection 
 of refreshment-tents, booths for the sale of sweets, 
 trinkets, and all things dear to a ploughboy's heart, 
 shows, and all the other paraphernalia of a village 
 fair. Soon after breakfast the market is crowded 
 by farmers and their wives, ploughmen, female ser- 
 vants, and all who have business to do. Besides 
 these there is a general assembly of all the idlers 
 and neer-do-iveels in the country-side ; tramps, tink- 
 ers, ballad-singers, fiddlers, rogues, beggar-women 
 with starving babies, the man who is " out of employ- 
 iG 
 
242 Descriptio7i of the Fair. 
 
 ment" because he will not work, the shipwrecked 
 sailor who never was at sea, the veteran soldier 
 who has seen no service but the devil's — in short 
 all the scoundrels within a radius of thirty miles. 
 
 No time is lost ; the whole machinery of the mar- 
 ket is set a-going. All the animal spirits of half-a- 
 score parishes and callages are now crowded into one 
 place. There is no restraint ; universal freedom reigns. 
 Wild hilarity, roaring frankness, outrageous demon- 
 strations of friendship, characterize the scene, and a 
 tumult of varied sounds fills the air. Underneath all 
 this, however, there is an eye to business. Yonder 
 in the open air, at the end of a tent, a fat, red-faced 
 dame is piling up a blazing fire of peat, over which 
 a huge pot is boiling Avith the farmers' broth. Close 
 by a master is higgling with a ploughman about five 
 shillings more or less of half-yearly wages ; and the 
 bargain, after an immense deal of manoeuvring as if 
 both were perfectly indifferent to the matter, is set- 
 tled in the good old Scotch way of "splitting the dif- 
 ference." Then follows the indispensable dram. A 
 young swain has just spent his "arles" in treating 
 his sweetheart with rude demonstrations of atta ch- 
 ment. Another, already drunk, is dancing and caper- 
 ing to the wretched strains of a fiddle. Sailor Jack 
 moves along with a curious limp as he sings his 
 favorite ditty. The showman is doing his best to 
 entertain the people and obtain their pence. Cheap 
 John, with incredible generosity, insists on enriching 
 the public to his own certain ruin, mixing his jokes 
 
Di'Mikcnncss and Rioting. 243 
 
 and lies in due measures to meet the tastes of the 
 gulHble portion of market-goers. A recruiting ser- 
 geant is describing to a knot of young men the glory 
 and blessedness of a soldier's life. On the outskirts 
 of the fair a crew of drunken carters are bargaining 
 with an unscrupulous horse-dealer for an old nag, 
 which is being trotted up and down at the utmost 
 speed possible to his wooden limbs. A tall, villainous, 
 one-legged speculator in human simplicity tempts 
 to a game of chance, which is yet no chance to him- 
 self; whilst his one-armed brother offers to teach the 
 young idea how to shoot by means of bow and arrows 
 which Tell himself could not have shot straight. A 
 hundi'ed voices are crying then wares. As the day 
 advances men and matters become more and more 
 lively. Suddenly the crowd begins to surge to and 
 fro, everybody knocking into his neighbor, no one 
 knowing why. There is a fight; strong drink is 
 master of the situation. A score of voices are raised 
 with a score of hands; hard blows are dealt; but 
 the greatest sufferer is the poor old woman whose 
 "sweetie stand" is overturned in the scuffle, all her 
 gingerbread cakes and colored sweets are scattered 
 in the mud. The same commander-in-chief is mar- 
 shalling his hosts in a neighboring tent, where a 
 fierce conflict rages around the rude board. You 
 can see the whole afiair from without by the mov- 
 ing of hostile heads and arms against the canvas, 
 which at length gives way, and the entire taber- 
 nacle of Satan, with a loud crash of bottles and 
 
244 Difficulty of the Work. 
 
 glasses, rolls over upon the ground. Still the busi- 
 ness of the fair goes on as before, its very life being 
 in noise, excitement, and uproar. Towards evening 
 'the more respectable people take their way home- 
 wards, carrying with them all sorts of useful house- 
 ihold articles purchased at the fair. Among the re- 
 maining portion the drinking and quarrelling go on 
 apace ; coarseness, profanity, and violence increase, 
 till at length the deepening shades, not a moment 
 too soon, cast the mantle of God over a very hell of 
 riot, charged witli all the elements of misery and 
 ruin. 
 
 It was a bold idea to introduce the Gospel here. 
 It was like David's attempt to save the lamb by 
 attacking the lion and the bear. For men of fine 
 feelings to stand upon a box or barrel, occupying 
 as it were the same platform with all that is coarse, 
 sordid, and villainous, and amidst the bawling, the 
 laughing, the blaspheming, the singing, the fiddling, 
 the fighting, the ribaldry of mockers, the rage of 
 the ungodly, and in the very atmosphere of black- 
 guardism, to raise the "still small voice "of the Gos- 
 pel and speak to men heated with every passion, of 
 "righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come," 
 was a work of the most trying kind. Sometimes 
 they were made to feel that it were easier to face an 
 armed host than bear the calumny and the shame. 
 Often were they threatened, often assailed, and some- 
 times well-nigh put to silence ; but they trusted in 
 Him who hath all power in heaven and on earth ; 
 
A Prince of Market-prcacJicrs. 245 
 
 and sometimes, when tliey tlioug'lit the Word was 
 only hke water spilt upon the gromid, they were 
 amazed and overjoyed to discover rough, burly 
 ploughmen breaking down under the truth, weep- 
 ing like children, and asking what they must do to 
 be saved. All over the north-eastern counties you 
 come upon strong, hard-headed, tender-hearted, God- 
 fearing men, who tell you that they were "brocht 
 tae the Lord " at such and such a market, giving 
 you place and date of their second birth. Besides 
 that, the general improvement in morals, particu- 
 larly m the matter of sobriety, decency, and order, 
 at some of the feeing markets, was so marked as to 
 draw forth expressions of wonder and admiration 
 from even men of the world. If a sufficient num- 
 ber of suitable laborers were found for this work, a 
 thorough reformation should be effected, as the ex- 
 periment proved ; but men possessing the necessary 
 courage and zeal appear to be few, and such gigan- 
 tic labors exhaust or kill them. 
 
 Nature and grace conspired to make Duncan 
 Matheson a prince of market-preachers. His hand- 
 some, well-knit form impressed the sons of the soil 
 with a sense of his great strength ; his frank, straight- 
 forward manner commanded their respect ; his ready 
 wit captivated a people whose genuine humor is pro- 
 verbial ; his voice, rising above the din, summoned 
 them as with a trumpet to listen ; his manifest supe- 
 riority to all fear made him a hero in their eyes ; and 
 the grace of the Holy Ghost with the truth as it is in 
 
246 His Felloiv- Lab overs. 
 
 Christ Jesus, did the rest. In this rough, self-deny- 
 ing work he was nobly assisted by several ministers 
 of the Gospel and other right-hearted servants of 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 Sometimes when a hearing could not be obtained, 
 and further prosecution of the work seemed an utter 
 waste of energy and time, Duncan would start up 
 and begin thus — " I will tell you a thing that hap- 
 pened when I was in the Crimea." Immediately 
 there is a respectful silence ; the audience seem as 
 if spell-bound while the preacher proceeds to tell 
 his story, which is only an introduction to the 
 Gospel. 
 
 In a certain town a gentleman well known in the 
 place came up to him as he was preaching in the 
 market, and mockingly said, " Well, what is the 
 word of the Lord to-day?" Our preacher turned 
 with a piercing glance of his eye, and promptly re- 
 plied, " earth, earth, earth, hear the word of the 
 Lord ! " Shortly afterwards that same scoffer lay at 
 the point of death in a room right over the corner 
 where he had assailed the servant of God. He had 
 been suddenly seized with what he believed were 
 the pains of death ; and in his alarm he cried, " I am 
 
 dying — run, run for Mr. ; get a Bible — quick, 
 
 quick ! " But ere human aid was procured, or the 
 Bible brought from the shelf where it lay neglected, 
 the accomplished scoffer had passed to his final ac- 
 count. This incident, with others of a similar char- 
 acter, tended to lessen the hostility at first shown to 
 
The Battle Won. 247 
 
 preaching in the market, and to pave the way for a 
 respectful hearing of the Gospel. 
 
 In another town the preachers were one day furi- 
 ously assailed and subjected to much personal in- 
 dignity and violence by a mob, led on by paid agents 
 of tavern-keepers, whose profits were diminished by 
 the effective preaching of the Gospel. For hours 
 the preachers maintained their position in the out- 
 skirts of the market ; towards the close of the day, 
 led on by Matheson, they pushed their way into the 
 centre of the fair. Here they were set on by the 
 entire rascality, hired and unhired, of the town; 
 but a shower happening at that crisis, the stento- 
 rian voice of our evangelist was heard high above 
 the clamor shouting, "Off hats, men, and let us 
 thank our Father in heaven, who sendeth rain on 
 the just and on the unjust, for this refreshing shower, 
 instead of fire and brimstone to consume us." The 
 effect of this appeal was striking. Every voice 
 was hushed, and every head uncovered, and one 
 who was present describes the prayer of the evange- 
 list as overwhelmingly touching and solemn. The 
 battle was now turned to the gate, and the preach- 
 ers carried all before them. 
 
 On another occasion the showman of a penny 
 theatre, finding that his sarcastic merriment did 
 not shame the preachers into silence, challenged 
 them to come up to his platform, and see if they 
 could speak there. The challenge, contrary to the 
 expectations of the showman, was accepted, and our 
 
243 special Call for Prayer. 
 
 evangelist accompanied by Mr. Hector Macpherson 
 took possession of the stage, to the astonishment of 
 the whole market. Mr. Matheson began ; the show- 
 man was put to silence, and went away, leaving 
 the evangelists in possession of his platform, from, 
 which they addressed an immense crowd with re- 
 markable effect. 
 
 Prudence and tact were needed as well as cour- 
 age. Sometimes he deemed it right to buy up the 
 showmen; by giving them a fair day's custom he 
 procured their silence. 
 
 In a "Special Call for Prayer," he says: "These 
 markets are fields of deepest trial. For long they 
 have been left in the power of the wicked one, and 
 thousands of souls have been ruined for eternity. 
 Surely, we shall not ask for prayer in vain; and 
 when the banner of Christ is unfurled shall there be 
 one living soul found shrinking from the fight, or re- 
 fusing to cry from the depths of their hearts, 'Awake, 
 awake, put on strength, arm of the Lord'?" 
 
 The "special call for prayer" was accompanied 
 by the use of other means, such as the following 
 advertisement in a newspaper : 
 
 "MAKKET PKEACHING. 
 "If the Lord permit, the Everlasting Gospel will 
 be preached at Longside, Ellon, Aberdeen, Turriff, 
 Inverury, and other feeing markets. 
 "a solemn question. 
 " How long do you think it would take you to 
 count a billion ? A billion is a million of millions ; 
 
Duration of Eternity. 249 
 
 and if you were to count at the rate of two hun- 
 dred a minute, it would require more than nine 
 thousand years to finish it. Now, you must Hve a 
 bilhon of years either in heaven or hell, and when 
 that billion of years is past, you must live another 
 billion of years, and then another; and another; 
 and even then your life will only be, as it were, 
 beginning. You must live forever^ lohether you will 
 or no. Is it not an awful thought that you are an 
 immortal being, and that there is no escape into 
 nothingness? Dear friend, you are making an aw- 
 ful blunder if you are living for this world only ; 
 and, if you die unsaved, it is a blunder that can 
 never be remedied. Jesus offers to save you now. 
 He died to save; and if you come to Him as you 
 are — no matter how great a sinner you may be — 
 He will save you; for He says, 'Him that cometh 
 to Me, I will in no wise cast out.' The time is 
 short, your soul is precious, and eternity is near. 
 
 "D. M." 
 
 Mr. Matheson frequently assisted his friends in 
 preaching at the Dundee annual fair. In those days 
 this fair was held in a quarry-pit in the centre of 
 the town, and for crowds, excitement, dissipation, 
 and ruin to the souls of the gay and thoughtless rev- 
 ellers, was equal to forty country markets. Here, 
 as we too well know, many of the young tasted for 
 the first time the devil's sweets. Here receiving 
 their first great impulse hellward, they went bound- 
 
250 Preaching at the Fair. 
 
 ing down tlie steep of dissipation until they disap- 
 peared amidst the darkness of a Hving death, or 
 were wrapped in the deep shades of a premature 
 grave. Here I have known the girl of fourteen 
 disappear; and no tongue could tell the father and 
 the mother's agony as they prosecuted for days and 
 nights the saddest search on earth, in the hope of 
 plucking from the jaws of ruin some fragments of 
 their lost child's humanity. 
 
 In this very place, where Folly was scattering 
 wide the seeds of death, handfuls of the good Word 
 of God were cast in, not without yielding fruit. To 
 preach here seemed mad enough to many, and use- 
 less enough to most. Amid such sounds and scenes 
 it was hard to sustain the voice and maintain com- 
 posure of spirit; but exhaustion, loss of voice, vio- 
 lent opposition, occasional peltings with stones and 
 other missiles, mockery and scorn, only served to 
 inflame zeal, deepen compassion, and rouse every 
 energy in the interests of the divine glory and of 
 the souls of men. The pains thus taken were amply 
 rewarded in the snatching of brands from the fire. 
 "Let us raise the banner once more," our evangelist 
 used to say. Accordingly, after much prayer, we sal- 
 lied forth with joyful hearts, and, surrounded by a 
 little band of singers, we continued preaching, prais- 
 ing God, and praying till the latest hour of night. 
 We were often assailed by "lewd fellows of the 
 baser sort;" but in the most tumultuous moment 
 of danger prayer never failed, and frequently at 
 
''Prepare to Meet thy God'' 251 
 
 tlie worst a sense of the Lord's presence suddenly 
 filled our hearts with joy, so that we spake the 
 word with boldness. 
 
 On one occasion a burly Yorkshireman attempted 
 to stop the preaching by driving his horses and car- 
 avan in amongst us. Matheson, who was speaking 
 at that moment, turned his face to the adversary, 
 and in his solemn way, thundered out these words, 
 "Prepare to meet thy God!" The showman drew 
 up his horses, listened for a few minutes, and then 
 turning deadly pale, quickly beat a retreat. 
 
 One night a showman, thinking we had taken our 
 stand in too close proximity to his tabernacle, fetched 
 his magic bottle, and with a significant glance in our 
 direction, said, "Talk of revivals! Here is some- 
 thing that will revive you!" Shouts of derisive 
 laughter followed. We paused a moment, then be- 
 gan to sing the twenty-third Psalm. As we sung, 
 the people began to leave the showman, and come 
 to our side: there was a charm for them in King 
 David's song. Prayer was offered : more of the peo- 
 ple came over. A simple exposition of the Psalm 
 followed: the larger portion of the showman's audi- 
 ence left him to hear about the green pastures and 
 the still waters. Ere we finished the show was well- 
 nigh deserted, and we could see the tears trickling 
 down the cheeks of some as they listened to the 
 story of the Good Shepherd coming into the wilder- 
 ness of this world to seek and to save the lost. 
 
 Patience and love always prevailed. One Sabbath 
 
252 -A Struggle. 
 
 evening, at the time of the fair, we were resting our- 
 selves in the house after a service in the open air. 
 Suddenly four young men, maddened with strong 
 drink, rushed into the room, and furiously assailed 
 us, while a fierce and numerous reserve remained at 
 the door. The object of their wrath was the person 
 of the writer, who had reproved them in the street 
 for scoffing. A violent struggle followed. Mathe- 
 son interposed, and seizing the ringleader by the 
 arm, said, " Let us pray." We both dropped upon 
 our knees, and fervently entreated God to bless and 
 save the young men. For a moment they were par- 
 alyzed by astonishment or fear. Again and again, 
 for nearly two hours, the battle was renewed; again 
 and again we resorted to prayer, striking no blows 
 but those of faith and love. At last the victory re- 
 mained with us ; the young men became as quiet as 
 lambs. We preached the Gospel to them, and ere 
 they went away we formed an alliance of peace and 
 friendship that has never been broken. Such inci- 
 dents were not infrequent, and the result often illus- 
 trated in a striking manner the sovereignty of the 
 grace of God. ]\Ien who were at one time leaders of 
 the mob in their most violent attacks on us in the 
 open-air meetings are now, as the writer can tes- 
 tify, ranked among the peaceful disciples of Jesus, 
 and distinguished for their zeal in the cause of the 
 Gospel. 
 
 One night at Perth, while we preached in the 
 street we were set on by an infuriated crowd. We 
 
A Memorable Night. 253 
 
 sang the hymn, "There is rest for the weary;" but 
 as we sang matters grew worse and worse. Not 
 contented with hooting and yelHng, they rushed 
 upon lis, and gathering the dirt of the street, be- 
 spattered us freely. Matheson, who never lost his 
 self-possession, frequently whispered in my ear, 
 "Never mind; perhaps a soul will be saved." We 
 continued to sing until we reached the door of the 
 hall where a meeting was being held. Our strength 
 exhausted, our pride in the dust, we turned to ad- 
 dress a word of affectionate entreaty to our victori- 
 ous assailants, when suddenly the Spirit of God fell 
 upon us and upon all those people. Our hearts were 
 filled with a new and Avonderful joy, heaven seemed 
 to be opened above us, the awful verities of eternity 
 were disclosed with soul-piercing vividness, and 
 with bleeding hearts we besought them all to re- 
 pent and believe the Gospel. At the same moment 
 the great crowd ceased its fiendish rage and mock- 
 ing ; the stillness of death followed ; and as we urged 
 them to tiee to Jesus from the wrath to come, many 
 burst into tears. The people seemed ready to cast 
 themselves at our feet as we preached Christ to 
 them. It was a memorable night, the issues of 
 which are with the Lord. Thus we learned that 
 Satan rages when his kingdom shakes and his vic- 
 tims are about to escape. 
 
 One night at the fair in Dundee a young man bent 
 on folly stopped for a little to hear the preaching. 
 Stung by the truth, and angry lest he should lose 
 
254 ^ Drunkard' s Wife. 
 
 his pleasures, he tore himself away, and rushed into 
 the next street, saying, " Now I've got rid of them." 
 Scarcely had he turned the corner, however, when 
 he came upon another preacher, was arrested, and 
 brought to the Saviour. A policeman on his rounds 
 stood for a moment to hear " what in all the world 
 those preachers could have to say in the fair," when 
 suddenly a ray of light shot through the darkness, 
 and he too was converted. Two young women, 
 bent on pleasure, stopped as they pressed through 
 the crowd to hear the singing of the hymn — 
 
 *' happy day that fixed my choice 
 On Thee, my Saviour and my God ! 
 Well may this glowing heart rejoice, 
 And tell its raptures all abroad." 
 
 "Come away," said the one to the other; "we'll 
 be too late." "I dare na gang," was the reply. 
 
 They strove, and parted; the one going to the 
 pleasures of death, the other remaining to seek the 
 protection of Jesus, and to join the society of His 
 people. 
 
 A poor woman, a drunkard's wife, steeped in 
 poverty and clothed in rags, was coming along the 
 street with a babe in her arms. Happiness had for- 
 saken her long ago ; desperate struggles with want 
 made her weary of life ; hope, that most patient of 
 angels, had disappeared in the clouds ; and all her 
 days and nights seemed but steps to deeper woe. 
 A voice strange to her fell upon her ear. The one 
 utterance that fell like dew upon her weary heart 
 
The Voice of Jesus . 255 
 
 was the word of the Lord — " Come iiiito Me, all ye 
 that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you 
 rest." She stood still upon the pavement, far off 
 from the preacher; and as she listened, the voice 
 seemed to come nearer and nearer to the heart. 
 "Rest!" she said to herself, as the preacher went 
 on to explain rest in the Lord Jesus — " rest ! that is 
 what I want." Jesus heard the groaning of that 
 oppressed spirit, and came to her relief There and 
 then she believed on Christ ; there and then she en- 
 tered on the rest of the Gospel. Peace and joy, like 
 birds of Paradise, began to sing in her soul. She 
 carried the blessing home, and the light that filled 
 that mother's heart illuminated the drunkard's house, 
 and transformed it into a Bethel. Years have passed ; 
 she still hearkens to Jesus, and still hears Him say- 
 ing, " Come unto Me, and rest." 
 
 "I hear the voice of Jesus say, 
 ' Come unto Me, and rest; 
 Lay down, thou weary one, lay down 
 Thy head upon my breast.' 
 
 " I came to Jesus as I was. 
 Weary, and worn, and sad; 
 I found in Him a resting-place. 
 And He has made me glad." 
 
 These are a few instances out of many ; the day 
 alone will declare all the results. To the wise and 
 prudent the preachers might appear to be fools ; but 
 the Gospel was preached to the poor, evil was pre- 
 vented, good was done, souls were saved, and God 
 
256 Some of His Helpers. 
 
 was glorified. From strange quarters, and in ways 
 too strange to find an explanation in the philosophy 
 of the rigidly systematic Christian, God gathers his 
 elect. It does seem meet, that from amidst those 
 scenes where Satan has his seat, and those on-goings 
 where the destroyer of souls enjoys his proudest 
 triumphs, the Kedeemer should gather the trophies 
 of his matchless grace. When in glory the ransomed 
 shall tell each his strange story of a Saviour's love ; 
 and one shall say, "He found me in the nursery;" 
 and another, "He found me in the school;" while 
 others tell how they were found in the house of 
 prayer, the sick bed, the workshop, or the field; one 
 will say, " He found me mad upon my idols, amidst 
 the revels of the fair — there He cast the charm of 
 his love around me, and thence He drew me to 
 Himself" 
 
 Several of the Christian helpers in this work have 
 gone to be with the Lord. Mr. Johnstone, pastor 
 of a Methodist Church, fell like a true soldier at his 
 post, and passed from the hallowed services of the 
 Lord's day on earth to the joys of the everlasting 
 Sabbath in heaven. He was mighty in prayer, and 
 it was the practice of our evangelist to ask at the 
 commencement of his meetings, " Is Johnstone here 
 to pray?" Eobert Annan, the stoutest of street- 
 preachers, is also at his rest. Dan Collison, a young 
 man of remarkable faith, said one night as he left 
 the fair, " I am gaun' hame to tell my Faither," 
 meaning that he was going to spend the midnight 
 
^'■The Litckjww Hero^ 257 
 
 hour in prayer. In a few hours afterwards he 
 reached the Father's house of many mansions. When 
 charged, hke Paul, with madness, Dan was wont 
 to say, " If I'm mad, I'll get heaven for an asylum." 
 " The Lucknow Hero," a Christian soldier of gigan- 
 tic stature, who had fought in the Indian mutiny, 
 used to assist in these services by marching in front 
 to clear the way. He could not preach, but he 
 could help in his own way. Drawing himself up to 
 his full height between the preachers and their op- 
 ponents, he seemed to say, "If you dare meddle 
 with these men, you see what you have to en- 
 counter." He also has received the palm of victory. 
 Mr. Nairn, merchant, an unwearied helper in the 
 work of the Lord, is also numbered with those who 
 have crossed the flood. Amidst the ravings of the 
 fever that closed his earthly career, he spoke only 
 of the Saviour whom he loved. Others, whose chief 
 part was not to speak or act, but to watch and pray, 
 we have accompanied to the border-laiid, and have 
 seen them depart, leaning on the arm of their 
 Eedeemer. 
 
 Dr. W. P. Mackay, pastor of the Presbyterian 
 Church, Hull, who accompanied Mr. Matheson to 
 the feeing markets and assisted in the work, writes 
 as follows: "Among the very first times I spoke 
 with him was at a railway station. We had been 
 speaking of entire consecration to the Lord, and the 
 noble work of preaching Christ and getting souls 
 saved. My mind was not very clear as to my own 
 17 
 
258 Testimony of Dr. Mackay. 
 
 path. I was seeking light as to my future course 
 — whether I should give myself entirely up to preach 
 the Gospel or enter a professional course. Many 
 young men are similarly placed, and often require 
 an encouraging word when all around seems doubt- 
 ful or dark. We had to go in different directions, 
 He crossed over to the other side of the platform, 
 and his last words before our trains came up were 
 in his manly accents, ' Go and read George MuUer, 
 of Ashley Down.' I had never heard the name be- 
 fore, but I put it down in my memory. On the first 
 opportunity I read his history, and for the first 
 time in my life saw the meaning of practical every- 
 day faith. I had known about faith to save my soul, 
 but this opened up quite a new aspect of God's 
 glorious truth. 
 
 "Time wore on. I was often in his company, 
 and always felt in his presence, There is a man in 
 real earnest, and his one word is 'Eternity.' He 
 used to say to me, ' Stick by what God has blessed 
 to your own soul. Every evangelist has a some- 
 thing that God has given him as a great reality, 
 and God uses the evangelist to carry home that 
 truth to do his own work. One, for instance, has 
 this word, God is love; anotlier is used to impress 
 on his audience, It is ivritien; a third has to preach 
 Oneness with Christ; and a fourth. Believe and live; 
 and so on, just as God has bm-ned the truth into 
 their own souls.' 'Well, Duncan,' T said, 'What is 
 yours?' 'Ah mine is plain. Deaths Judgment^ and 
 
The Feeing Market Campaign. 259 
 
 Eternity; and by God's grace I mean to hold by it.' 
 And so he did. 
 
 "Well do I remember my first introduction to 
 the feemg market campaign under his guidance. 
 It was in May, 1862. On the 13th we went to 
 Ellon, in Aberdeenshire. Here, supported by a 
 number of earnest pastors, we preached till night- 
 fall the words of eternal life, Duncan's voice reach- 
 ing well over the whole fair in an earnestness all his 
 own. Next day we went to Potarch market, up Dee- 
 side, and there we met with strong opposition. A 
 goodly number of laborers, pastors, and evangelists 
 — several of whom, as Major Gibson and Colonel 
 Ramsay, are now with the Lord — drove down to the 
 fair. This was about as hard a battle-field as we 
 were on in all the campaign. We had had much 
 prayer about it, but the opposition, or rather indif- 
 ference, was very marked. We could hardly get a 
 dozen at a time to listen. But Duncan was deter- 
 mined they should hear. 'Come,' said he, 'let us 
 blow the rams' horns outside the city.' We all went 
 to the outskirts of the crowd, and knelt round in a 
 circle, and began to pray to God, as we felt we had 
 no power with men. Many of the men inflamed 
 with drink came round and looked at the rare spec- 
 tacle. There were more than a dozen uncovered 
 heads of kneeling men, who were entreating God 
 to have mercy on those Avho had no mercy on them- 
 selves. As the spare gray locks of several of the 
 veterans waved in the summer breeze, and the tones 
 
26c Unfurling the Banner. 
 
 of entreaty went up to tlie throne, there was some- 
 thhig that seemed calculated to calm the wildest op- 
 poser ; but Satan appeared let loose. They danced, 
 and whooped, and yelled round the chcle of prayer 
 like so many fiends. One coarse fellow deliberately 
 came beside Major Gibson and spat in his face while 
 / he was praying. The gallant soldier merely took 
 out his handkerchief, wiped his face, and prayed for 
 the poor sinner. We rose from our knees. 'Now,' 
 said Duncan, 'let us again unfurl the banner,' and 
 turning to me, he said, 'Strike up "Kest for the 
 weary," and let us in to the centre of the camp.' 
 Then we got an audience indeed, and the word 
 seemed to be with power. I spoke at least to two 
 who were stricken with great conviction of sin. 
 Duncan would not stop preaching even when the 
 horses were being yoked to drive us from the fair, 
 but from the conveyance preached, exhorted, and 
 entreated sinners to come to Christ. 
 
 On Friday, the 16th, we went to Insch, where 
 there seemed many attentive hearers, several of 
 those who had been converted under Duncan and 
 other laborers rallying round us. On the Monday 
 following we were at Alford, where constant preach- 
 ing went on all day, many dear brethren from Aber- 
 deen and elsewhere taking part. I have letters in 
 my possession from those who profess to have been 
 benefited for eternity from this day's work, besides 
 having seen several who had been brought to the 
 truth at former preachings there. On Wednesday 
 
Cheap John. 261 
 
 we went on to Huntly, where such wonderful 
 things had been seen in years gone by, when 
 Duncan, EadchfFe, and others, gathered by the 
 Duchess of Gordon, were so owned of God in the 
 market. Here, assisted by other brethren, the Gos- 
 pel was proclaimed, and there were many atten- 
 tive listeners. 
 
 " On the following Friday we went to Elgin. In 
 the train, as Duncan and I took our seats, a man 
 sat down beside us, whom we recognized as a very 
 prominent Cheap John in the fairs, and who we 
 supposed was going to Elgin. He recognized us 
 also, and said, in a very hoarse voice, 'Are you go- 
 ing to Elgin?' 'Yes,' said Duncan. 'Like ourselves, 
 you seem to be very hoarse ; here is a lozenge for 
 you. But, man, if you would use that splendid 
 voice of yours in the service of our Master instead 
 of the service of Satan, it would be worth living 
 for.' He was about the smartest in the whole of 
 the markets, and he smiled at us as he took out a 
 handful of pound notes and shook them before us, 
 saying, 'Ay, but you could not bring me that with 
 your preaching.' 'No,' said Duncan; 'but what 
 shall it profit you, if you gain the whole world, and 
 lose your soul ? Ah, Jack, perhaps you had a pray- 
 ing mother, who took you to her side as she knelt 
 and taught you "Our Father," and who prayed that 
 she might meet you in heaven. Shall we not see 
 you preaching in the markets yet? When God 
 converts you, send for me, and I'll join you, wher- 
 
262 A Rare Gift. 
 
 ever it is.' The poor fellow seemed quite solem- 
 nized, and took it all in the spirit in which it was 
 given ; but the Searcher of hearts knows if Duncan's 
 desire was realized. 
 
 "A week after this we went to a fair in the south, 
 upwards of a hundred miles from where we parted 
 with Jack, and no sooner had we taken our stand 
 than the first man we saw was our railway friend. 
 He immediately recognized us. He had his large 
 hand-bell ready to begin operations, when Duncan 
 said, 'Let us pray.' The man stopped his bell, 
 bowed his head until the prayer was done, and 
 then began to scatter coppers to draw a crowd. 
 Coppers were, of course, more attractive than the 
 Gospel of eternal life, and so he gathered the large 
 crowd, and we the small; but Jack, noticing this, 
 and, as if not to interfere with our work, wheeled 
 his platform away to the furthest end of the fair, 
 and left us undisturbed. 
 
 "Duncan had a rare gift of getting respect from 
 even the unconverted by his manly, open-faced 
 manner. The lame sailors, with their shipwreck 
 picture before them, and other itinerant beggars, 
 lifted their hats to him as he gave them a word of 
 warning and Gospel. 
 
 "From Elgin we went to Turiff, and met with 
 considerable opposition, but also considerable atten- 
 tion to the Gospel preached. In private we had a 
 meeting on our knees here, that brought us so 
 closely into the presence of the Master, and showed 
 
Nothing Else but Christ. 263 
 
 •Qs the worthlessness of all flesh, that it will never 
 be forgotten by many of us. 
 
 "These scenes happened eight years ago, and it 
 is difficult to recall particulars ; but many will have 
 to thank God through eternity for having raised up 
 Duncan Matheson, who with living voice and his 
 Special Herald carried salvation home to their souls. 
 It is a noble and fruitful work. One man came to 
 us saying, ' I at least hear the Gospel once a year, 
 and that is at the fair.' Another said, rather from 
 sarcasm than any thing else, 'Your sermons here 
 seem to have nothing in them but Christ. It seems 
 to me that you can speak of nothing else but Christ 
 — Christ from beginning to end. Ye let us hear 
 more about Christ than we get in a whole year.' 
 
 "Duncan used often to say, 'Keep the Word at 
 them;' and when he could scarcely be heard in a 
 continued discourse he launched out short, pithy, 
 telling texts of Scripture. As a man would be 
 pushing his merchandise, he would sound in the 
 ears of buyer and seller, who were thinking of prof- 
 its, 'What shall a man give in exchange for his 
 soul?' He would come in front of a man being 
 weighed for a penny, and in his solemn tones and 
 earnest manner, making the man tremble all over, 
 he would say, 'Thou art weighed in the balances, 
 and art found wanting.' 
 
 " Many other places we visited in company dur- 
 ing the happy years I had the privilege to labor 
 with him ; but I have no doubt you have fuller in- 
 
264 ''Rest for the WearyT 
 
 formation than J can give. His warfare was no easy 
 warfare. He never thought of rest. ' Eest 1 ' said 
 he, ' no, I can't. Eternity ! eternity ! I'll rest there ; 
 and you can gather the northern converts, and over 
 my grave sing, " Rest for the ivearyy ' Often he got 
 the opposite of a kind reception, of course, as did his 
 Master. At one place we were going to get our tea 
 at a temperance hotel. A woman came after us, 
 saying, 'You shall not go there as long as I have a 
 house ; ' and she did give us a hearty reception. He 
 was too independent of men's smiles or frowns to be 
 universally acceptable. He rejoiced to do God's 
 work in God's way. The water of life flows as a 
 river, not as a canal ; and many men quench the 
 Spirit by determining the exact shape, depth, and 
 width of the canal, instead of taking the winding, 
 irregular river as God sends it. 
 
 " The life of Duncan Matheson may well stir us 
 all up to live more in the light of eternity, working 
 to please but One, working to gather souls to that 
 glorious One, and build them up in the knowledge 
 of Him who is the light of eternity." 
 
 For two or three years — from 1862 to 1865 — there 
 was a slight and natural reaction in many places 
 where a real work of grace has been wrought. This 
 lull was not pleasant, but it was profitable. Heaps 
 of stones having been gathered from the quarry, the 
 work of selection and rejection, polishing and build- 
 ing, had to be carried on. Reaping, with its sun- 
 
We Must Not Loivcr the Standard. 265 
 
 shine and its songs, is delightful work ; but after it 
 comes the work of the barn, with its din, its dust, 
 and its stern process of separating the chaff from the 
 wheat. At the same time new fields were opening 
 to the indefatigable evangelist; slumbering com- 
 munities here and there were moved by the voice 
 of the awakening Spirit. During those years his 
 labors were without ceasing. " We must not lower 
 the standard " was his constant sa}dng. If the field 
 was ever widening, his power for work seemed 
 to grow in equal measure. Wherever a religious 
 interest was awakening he hastened to render 
 help. Where no work was wrought and no testi- 
 mony raised, true captain of the forlorn hope as he 
 was, thither he bent his steps, and there to use his 
 own martial style, he " unfurled the banner." He 
 was seldom at home. One evening, before a meet- 
 ing, he said to his wife, " Mary, this is a royal night 
 with you. How long is it since you took tea with 
 me on a Sabbath evening?" "Just three times the 
 last three years," was her reply. Solemnly and ten- 
 derly he said, " There will be plenty of opportunity 
 in eternity to speak together." At another time he 
 said, "Wife and children must be nailed to the 
 cross; I must go and preach the Gospel." 
 
 In carrying on the work he was opposed on vari- 
 ous grounds. A minister of the Gospel in a certain 
 town was accustomed to offer prayer for a revival 
 of religion. The great awakening in America took 
 place; but it was "too American," and the minister 
 
266 An Opposing Minister. 
 
 went on praying as before. The work of grace in 
 Ireland followed; but it was "too Irish," and he 
 went on praying as before. Kemarkable move- 
 ments occurred in various parts of Scotland; but it 
 was "wild-fire, and he would have none of it." The 
 Spirit of God began to work in his own town, very 
 much through the instrumentality of our evangelist ; 
 but in the opinion of the minister the instruments 
 were contemptible, and the whole thing of doubtful 
 tendency, and he now began to pray for a tri(£, revi- 
 val. At length members of his own congregation 
 were converted under the preaching of Mr. Mathe- 
 son, who said to them, " Go and tell your minister 
 what the Lord has done for your souls ; it will cheer 
 his heart, and do him good." They went; some to 
 ask direction, and some to acknowledge grace re- 
 ceived. The minister was angry. Next Sabbath 
 he said it was all excitement and delusion, and he 
 stamped with his foot as if he would stamp out the 
 spiritual rinderpest. The excitement and delusion 
 seemed to be all his own. His prayer had been an- 
 swered ; but he would not accept the answer in God's 
 way. The work of grace stood before him, but he 
 knew it not. Jesus came to his own, but his own 
 received Him not, because his visage was so marred. 
 The Holy Spirit came to the minister, but the min- 
 ister disowned and rejected Him because He came 
 in a garb of humiliation offensive to human pride. 
 A work of grace without a flaw must be an impos- 
 sibility so long as God is pleased to work by means 
 
An Offender for a Word. 26^ 
 
 of imperfect tools on the coiTupt material of human 
 hearts and lives. The minister would accept no re- 
 vival but one according to his own ideal. What a 
 pity that ministers should go a-dreaming when the 
 world is perishing ! 
 
 Some opposed the work because they had no scru- 
 ples of conscience, and others because they had too 
 many. Certain religious people have more scruples 
 in their conscience than conscience in their scruples. 
 To those who in effect said, "Sermons, sermons are 
 our business," his reply was, "Souls, souls are mine." 
 His constant cry, " Eternity ! eternity ! souls are per- 
 ishing ! " was a cutting rebuke to mere sermon-mak- L\A^-~ 
 ers and sermon-hearers. He did not practise trum-'' 
 pet-blowing for a bit of bread. His was not the soft 
 serenading of lovers, but the sounding of shrill battle 
 blasts. He refused to say, " Peace ! peace ! " when he 
 ought to cry, " Fire 1 fire ! " To gratify carnal tastes, 
 he would not put the devil's butter on God's bread. 
 In this way he offended both the lullaby players and 
 the lullaby lovers. Moreover, his zeal sometimes car- 
 ried him beyond the bounds of prudence ; and Mr. 
 Perfectly Small — the same who is denounced in an 
 ancient prophet for making a man an offender for a 
 word — could not tolerate the evangelist on account 
 of his blunders. Does he never blunder himself? 
 No; no more than a periwinkle blunders. Small, 
 heartless men do not usually blunder so much as 
 men of much feeling and soul. Heartless people 
 keep to the arithmetic of every thing. But love, 
 
268 A Handsome Offer. 
 
 zeal, courage, feeling, lieart, soul, rise above vulgar- 
 fraction rules of mere carnal policy. Some men 
 can gauge the tear of penitence, and weigh as in a 
 balance the breath of a dying saint. There is a 
 crow's nest in the great oak; therefore, hew down 
 the tree. There is a cobweb in a cornice; rase the 
 temple to its foundation. The watch-dog barks out 
 of season ; slay him. There is a crook in the furrow ; 
 hang the ploughman. Let a man live a holy life ; 
 let him toil for the good of others till life is shortened 
 by his self-denying labors ; and let the broad seal of 
 heaven be stamped upon his work; yet one word 
 amiss shall, in the estimate of some, outweigh the 
 whole. Shall a single particle of dust outweigh 
 and render of no value a hundi'ed talents of fine 
 gold? Well, shall the warrior stop the battle be- 
 cause the grasshopper is chirping? I trow not. 
 So this soldier of the cross went on. 
 
 At this time a handsome offer was made him by 
 the Presbyterian Church in New Zealand. They 
 proposed to ordain him as their first missionary, 
 with the status of a minister in the Presbytery, 
 and offered him a suitable salary. This offer he de- 
 clined. Ordination by the laying on of the hands 
 of the Presbytery he did not despise ; and although 
 to a high spirited-man, such as he in the best sense 
 was, with an increasing family, a stated income was 
 to be preferred to his uncertain and precarious mode 
 of living, with its inevitable humiliations, he could 
 not leave his own country, where his labors were so 
 
A Milling Village. 269 
 
 much blessed, and over whose spiritual necessities 
 his j)atriotic and Christian spirit brooded with a 
 singular love. "So long as God is blessing my la- 
 bors here in the conversion of sinners," he said, "I j 
 cannot on any account go away." 
 
 During the rest of his active ministry his work, 
 both in its character and results, was very much 
 of a piece. A few facts, therefore, in illustration 
 will suffice. To gather the people in obscure and 
 out of the way places, he procured a hand-bell, which 
 he was not ashamed to ring up and down the streets, 
 announcing to the astonished inhabitants that he, 
 the bell-ringer, was going to preach at the cross or 
 market-place. Curiosity brought many to hear him ; 
 and frequently those most unlikely, in man's esti- 
 mate, to come under the power of the Gospel were 
 awakened and saved. The bell-ringing and simi- 
 lar devices he felt to be a humiliation, and he some- 
 times said, "I never knew I had so little grace till 
 I began to do that." 
 
 One summer evening the quiet little mining vil- 
 lage of Stevenston, in Ayrshire, is startled from its 
 centre to its circumference by a strange voice, whose 
 loud sonorous tones waken the echoes and compel 
 men to ask. What is this ? The people rush to their 
 doors; a hundred windoAvs are thrown open, and 
 the heads of eager listeners are thrust out. Even 
 the public-house is emptied of the drunkards, who 
 come out in stark amazement. The stranger, like 
 Jonah in Nineveh, has come no one knows whence. 
 
2/0 Infidel Mockers. 
 
 He stands alone, calm, bold, and solemn, as if he 
 had just come out of eternity. With prophet-like 
 authority, he cries, "Prepare to meet thy God!" 
 As night falls, the voice waxes louder and louder, 
 and many of those rough miners tremble. The ser- 
 vice closes with an appeal to the great I Am, and 
 the people somehow feel they are in the presence 
 of God as they have never been. The preacher 
 then takes his way along the street, and improves 
 the awakening interest by speaking of Christ and 
 eternity to every man, woman, and child, as they 
 stand at their doors. Coming to the public-house, 
 he goes up and says with great tenderness, "Ah, 
 men, prepare to meet your God ! " Words cannot 
 describe the feelings of the villagers that night. 
 The whole affair is so novel, so unexpected, so con- 
 science-moving. It was as if God had suddenly 
 come to the village, as He was then coming to many 
 a village in the land. What was too httle consid- 
 ered. He was come not to stay but to pass on. 
 
 In another mining village, known to the writer, 
 he was violently opposed by a band of infidel mock- 
 ers, Avho came to the meetings for the purpose of 
 turning the evangelist and the work into ridicule. 
 For a time, it seemed as if they should carry every 
 thing their own way. Strong in the hardness of 
 their hearts and their unholy league, they laughed 
 and jeered. The evangelist marked their conduct, 
 and having offered prayer for theu' conversion, drew 
 his bow at a venture. One of the scoffers was ar- 
 
A Sinall Congregation. 271 
 
 rested and turned to Christ. Henceforth he sepa- 
 rated hnnself from his companions, who only seemed 
 to grow more profane. Next night they retm-ned 
 to the meeting to scoff. Again one of those high- 
 handed sinners was prostrated by grace, and the 
 mocker began to pray. Again and again was this 
 advanced guard of Satan thinned by the sword of 
 the Spirit, till at length only one remained, and he 
 the worst of all. It seemed as if he would hold out. 
 At last, however, the thought took possession of him, 
 " Am I to be left to go to hell alone ?" That led to 
 his conversion. This triumph of grace made a pro- 
 found impression on the unconverted people of the 
 district, and the work of God made remarkable prog- 
 ress at that time, the fruits of which are strikingly 
 apparent at the present day. 
 
 He found his way into places where gates were 
 barred against all evangelistic effort. " You need 
 not attempt to go there," said his friends, speaking 
 of a certain country town in the north. "The min- 
 isters have told the people that the revival is a delu- 
 sion ; nobody wants you, and you will get none to 
 hear you." Not discouraged by the failure of at- 
 tempts made by others, he resolved to go. After 
 praying for a blessing, he went, hired a hall for a 
 week, announced his meetings, and commenced at 
 the appointed hour. Not a soul appeared: undis- 
 puted victory seemed to remain with spiritual apa- 
 thy. Most men would have looked on the empty 
 hall as an mtimation of the will of God to depart 
 
2/2 Extraordinary Power. 
 
 and seek a more promising field ; but our evangelist 
 opened his book, and saying, " Let us praise God," 
 sang one of David's psalms, with someAvhat of Da- 
 vid's spirit. Thereafter he said, " Let us pray," and 
 proceeded to pray aloud, as if all the town Avere there, 
 As the prayer was closing, a little boy dropped in, 
 and sat doAvn AAath all a child's Avonder and simpli- 
 city. The Word Avas read, the text announced, and 
 the sermon preached, the great voice ringing and 
 reverberating strangely in the empty hall. Ere the 
 close, tAvo or three men came stealing in from sheer 
 curiosity, to see " a man preaching to nobody," and 
 sat as near the door as they could. The serA^ce 
 ended, and the preacher announced that having 
 made an engagement Avith the great God to meet 
 Him for prayer, praise, and preaching of his Gospel 
 in that hall on every night of the week, he Avould 
 be there, God helping him, at the same hour on the 
 following evening, come Avhat might, come who 
 may. Next night more came from curiosity, and 
 ere the week closed the hall Avas croAvded by an at- 
 tentive, and in some instances aAvakened audience. 
 Faith triumj)hed. Bolts and bars of triple steel 
 gave way before the invisible artillery of believing 
 prayer. Our evangelist once more realized our Sa- 
 viour's words — "All things are possible to him that 
 belie veth." 
 
 In another part of the country, the name of Avhich 
 I forbear to mention, an extraordinary power at- 
 tended the Avord one night. The distress of the 
 
David Sandeman and James Allen. 273 
 
 awakened was exceeding great, and the individual 
 who presided at the meeting, becoming alarmed, or- 
 dered the people to retire to their own homes. It 
 seemed a hard case for those weeping inquirers to 
 be sent away without an opportunity being afforded 
 them of stating their difficulties and hearing an an- 
 swer to the great question then and there. The 
 meeting-house was cleared, and as the key turned 
 heavily in the lock, these unsophisticated children 
 of the soil stood about the door and wept. " Go 
 home," it was said to them. " Go home! " they ex- 
 claimed. "We are going down to hell; and what 
 are we to do ? " Seizing the arm of the evangelist 
 and his companion, they begged them as servants 
 of Jesus Christ not to leave them. That night the 
 woods resounded with their cries to God for mercy 
 as they went away. 
 
 Duncan's labors were much blessed at Hillliead, a 
 mining district near Glasgow, where there was a 
 considerable movement in 1865. This place has 
 been singularly favored of the Lord. Here that 
 Christ-like missionary, David Sandeman, preached 
 and prayed and wept for souls. Sometimes he tar- 
 ried at the throne of grace all night, and towards 
 dawn he could be heard saying, "The whole district, 
 Lord — the whole district! I cannot ask less." "He 
 made every body love him," say the people still. 
 Here too James Allen, who, like David Sandeman, 
 went to an early rest with Jesus, preached with 
 Baptist-like solemnity and power. Of him the peo- 
 18 
 
274 From South to North, 
 
 pie say, " He brocht eternity doon about us." It was 
 Matheson's privilege largely to reap what these 
 faithful men and other earnest laborers still living 
 had sown in the unpromising soil of Billhead. 
 Night after night he continued the services there 
 amidst striking displays of divine grace. At the 
 close of the meetings, often near the hour of mid- 
 night, when he tore himself away from the group of 
 men in the agony of conviction, he trudged his 
 weary way for miles through the deep snow to the 
 neighboring city of Glasgow, where necessity com- 
 pelled him to lodge. Next night, however, invari- 
 ably found him back at his loved work as cheery 
 as ever. 
 
 His circuit was now a very extensive one. At one 
 time — July, 1864 — we find him preaching at Dover, 
 where several officers of the army are converted, and 
 ere the month is out he is in the extreme north labor- 
 ing amongst the Highlanders at the herring-fishing 
 at Wick. Now he is raising his voice on Glasgow 
 Green, where during the last ten or twelve years 
 many a soul has been saved ; by and by he is rang- 
 ing the lonely glens of Sutherland in search of the 
 lost sheep. Here the proclamation of free grace is 
 blessed. " I have heard that Mr. Matheson was rid- 
 ing very high, that he was preaching assurance to 
 
 the people of ," said a pastor, who seemed to 
 
 think that the Christian is safe only under the 
 shadow of Doubting Castle. "Is it not a matter 
 about which we should be sure?" was the reply. 
 
Nezv Years Address. 275 
 
 " Oh, you women ! " was all the good man had to 
 say in defence of his system of ultra-Calvinistic 
 exclusiveness. 
 
 In 1856, when lying at the point of death on the 
 scene of his exhausting labors among the soldiers in 
 the East, he had asked from his God ten years more 
 of life to preach the Gospel and win souls. He was 
 now entering the tenth and last year ; and as if con- 
 scious that his more active career was about to close, 
 he inserted in a newspaper the following address : 
 
 1866. 
 
 NEW year's address. 
 
 Dear Eeadee: The sand-glass is running out. Another 
 year is gone ! Three hundred and sixty-five days past ! 
 How silently — yet how quickly again — has grain after gTain, 
 particle after particle, hour after hour, dropped in this glass. 
 Deathless hours they are ; uncounted, unnoted, and for- 
 gotten it may be by man, but every falling grain has been 
 noted by God. The busy pen of Heaven has been mark- 
 ing every moment. Ask thyself the searching question, 
 "Has it been with me a happy year ? It has brought me 
 nearer Eternity; but has it brought me nearer God? Does 
 it find me better fitted for Heaven, with more of the pilgrim 
 spirit than I had when the year began ! " 
 
 What a time for serious thought ! Another new year 
 summons thee to a Pisgah-Mount — from the top of one of 
 life's memorable eminences solemnly to review time past — ■ 
 consider time present — and prepare for time to come. Cast, 
 then, thine eye on the past year's journey, and how fuU of 
 impressive recollection is the retrospect ! 
 
 God has been dealing with thee individually, and speak- 
 ing to thee surely, in language not to be misunderstood. 
 
2/6 New Years Address. 
 
 Hearest tliou not tlie rustling wings of the Angel of Death ? 
 Have not his arrows been flying fast and thick, and thou- 
 sands made his victims ? Look back ! Seest thou that 
 crowd of fresh-made graves ? — they are silent preachers to 
 thee! and this is their silent text and sermon, " 5e ye also 
 readi/." 
 
 Many of those who slumber underneath these sods were 
 cut down without a note of preparation. One was busied 
 in the market-jDlace; the Angel of Judgment met him thei^ey 
 and before evening he was dead! Another was seated at 
 his fireside, planning bright thoughts and schemes for the 
 future — he never saw the morrow's sun. Another was in 
 company, loud in godless merriment, and breathing out 
 his blasphemies — a few hours more, and he was arraigned 
 at the bar of God! Another flung himself prayerless on 
 his nightly pillow — next morning he awoke — but it was — 
 in Eteknity ! 
 
 And, reader, has He spared thee ? What ! cut down others 
 and left thee to count in the review of a past year — fig-tree 
 after fig-tree blighted and fallen — and yet thyself, the most 
 ''barren " of all — a fruitless cumberer — still '■'■spared! " 
 
 Canst thou calculate on another year ? Let these green 
 graves answer. Another year ? Thine own grave may be 
 among the number of these silent preachers on another 
 anniversary. Who can tell but the summons may even now 
 be on the wing, " Get thee up and die ! " Thou mayest this 
 time next year be reading to others the solemn lesson now 
 read to thyself, ' ' The race is not to the swift, nor the bat- 
 tle to the strong." 
 
 Dear reader, if this be Si possible thing, take one look for- 
 ward. If the arrow of death were indeed during this com- 
 ing jyear to mark thee out, how would it fare with thee ? 
 Couldst thou say with exulting Paul, when he had the pros- 
 pect of death before him, "I am now ready? " (2 Tim. iv. 6.) 
 Are you at peace with God? Are you resting your eternal 
 
In the Highlands. 277 
 
 all on Lis dear Son? Are you in that blessed state of lioly 
 weanedness from this world, and holy preparedness for 
 another and a better, that "living or dying" you can say 
 and feel that "you are Christ's "? 
 
 Would the angel summons, "Behold! the Bridegroom 
 Cometh, "find you exclaiming in joyous rapture, " Even so! 
 come Lord Jesus! come quickly"? Would you be ready 
 to pass from a death full of hope to a judgment divested of 
 all terror — a God reconciled — an immortahty of endless 
 glory? These are solemn things and solemn thoughts ! 
 Answer them on thy knees — with the solemnities of the 
 past year hehind thee — an unseen God above thee — a great 
 eternity before thee. Answer them speedily ! 
 
 And as ye begin to descend the mount and commence the 
 journey of a new year, let the feeble voice of the old one 
 whisper its dying accents in thine ear, ' ' Seek ye the Lord 
 while He may be found: call ye upon Him wliile He is near; " 
 for He who testifieth these things saith, ' ' Behold I come 
 quickly ! " 
 
 "Time is earnest, passing by; 
 Death is earnest, drawing nigh : 
 Sinner, wilt thou trifling be ? 
 Time and death appeal to thee 1 
 Christ is earnest, bids thee ' Come ; ' 
 Paid for man a priceless sum ! 
 Wilt thou spurn the Saviour's love 
 Pleading with thee from above ? " 
 
 Insekted by D. Matheson. 
 Perth, Jan. 1, 1866. 
 
 Early in the year we find him in the north-west 
 Highlands, whence he writes : 
 
 "Balmacara House, Lochalsh, January 5th, 1866. 
 I am here ! What a place of beanty, yet of tempest 
 and storm ! I left Dingwall yesterday in an open gig, 
 
278 All Uncomfortable C/ncrch. 
 
 and came on here tlirongh a range of mountains 
 covered all the way with snow. Now and then it 
 was grand going along lake sides and then down 
 mountain steeps. It was very cold, and we had at 
 the end of our journey very heavy showers. I am 
 none the Avorse. I think we came sixty -five miles 
 in an open gig. When I reached, the thunder was 
 rolling and lightning flashing. The rain fell in tor- 
 rents. In summer it must be a glorious place. The 
 peojDle are scattered, and my work is laid out for 
 
 next week. IMay the Lord guide ! Captain , 
 
 his wife, her sister, and daughter, are here. They 
 are kind to me. He is a good, good man. My work 
 will not be amongst large companies, for few under- 
 stand English. Pray that the Lord may bless my 
 eff'orts. I have a meeting to-night, and to-morrow, 
 Sabbath, here. 
 
 "Balmacara House, January 8th. Yesterday Mr. 
 Colville joined us. We drove to church — a most 
 uncomfortable one. No plaster, no roof — only the 
 bare boards, no flooring. The minister is a good 
 man. It was a good sermon. We drove back, sing- 
 ing all the way till the very hills rang again. At 
 Ave we dined, and at seven we met in a shed. It 
 was packed with people, some having come six or 
 eight miles. I preached first, and then Mr. Colville. 
 The people were intensely interested, and about 
 twenty waited after the meeting. At ten o'clock 
 we left. We meet there to-night again. It is a 
 poor, poor country, but very beautiful to look upon. 
 
At Plockton. 
 
 279 
 
 You see nothing but green mountains and moun- 
 tains covered with snow. I am to be very busy. 
 I wish you were here. I always Hke you to see 
 any thing that is grand. 
 
 "January 9th. We are working away. The peo- 
 ple seem very dead. It is a lovely spot ; but how 
 sad to see people going down to hell unmoved ! I 
 feel deeply for the people, but as yet have no power. 
 . . . Oh for a blessing ! Life is ebbing fast away. 
 Eternity is near. Pray for me. 
 
 "January 10th. At 4 p.m. yesterday we started 
 with the carriage over the hills. It was a grand 
 drive. Now and then we had to come out and walk, 
 as the hills were so steep. Coming to a ferry, we 
 crossed, singing all the way in the boat. In a vil- 
 lage on the other side we got a school, and held a 
 
 meeting, Mr. C and Captain with me. I 
 
 preached ; and, blessed be God, I had great freedom 
 and power. The Lord helped me. I was happy in 
 my soul. Mr. C followed. In the second meet- 
 ing we saw awakened souls. 
 
 "January 13th. I have to go some six miles over 
 the hills to Plockton, the place of my father's birth. 
 I have seen some poor Highland girls here. It would 
 be a good thing to get places for them ; they are so 
 faithful and trustworthy. Poor things, I feel for 
 them. In the snow many of them have no shoes. 
 I am glad I am come to this place. I have seen 
 much of the country and people. It shows me the 
 value of my work among the Highlanders." The 
 
28o Prayers for Forfar. 
 
 work to which he here refers was chiefly the reli- 
 gious books which he was getting translated into 
 Gaelic, and circulated freely, or sold at a mere nom- 
 inal price, throughout the Highlands. 
 
 In course of the summer we find him in Nairn, 
 Inverness, Koss, Sutherland, and Caithness. Ke- 
 tuming south, he preaches at the fair in Glasgow; 
 and from that city he proceeds to Laurencekirk, 
 Bervie, Kirriemuir, and other places in the eastern 
 and central counties. 
 
 On Aug. 4th he went to Forfar, whence he writes : 
 "I have only fifteen minutes, passing through. A¥e 
 had good meetings last night, open-air and indoors. 
 I hope God blessed the word ; but the place is hard, 
 and the people sadly indifferent. The whole land 
 seems at ease. Few are seeking God; few are car- 
 ing for God. I often feel it deeply. Cholera is 
 not apparently decreasing. The voice is loud and 
 solemn. Nothing, however, will do but the Holy 
 Ghost. 
 
 For Forfar he had often prayed. Frequently, as 
 he passed it by rail, he raised his voice in prayer 
 for the salvation of its people. "When I die," he 
 said, "you will find Forfar written on my heart." 
 "If God would only bless Forfar," he said, character- 
 istically, " I would be content to stand and hold Har- 
 rison Ord's hat while he preached." His prayers 
 were now to be answered, and his longings in 
 measure gratified. Early in September he went to 
 Forfar, took lodgings, obtained the use of a school- 
 
Prayer Anszvercd at Forfar, 281 
 
 room for liis meetings, and commenced in the open 
 air and within doors. For paying the necessary ex- 
 penses means were hberally furnished by Christian 
 gentlemen whose sole interest in this town was the 
 salvation of the lost. 
 
 "Forfar, Monday, September 10th, 1866. Praise 
 the Lord, He has begun his work. We commenced 
 at seven on the street on Saturday. A great crowd 
 gathered round. They listened breathlessly. It was 
 a blessed meeting. I have seldom seen such a sol- 
 emn meeting on the streets. At eight we went to 
 the school. A good company were present. At close 
 some waited in anxiety to be spoken Avith. We did 
 not leave till ten. 
 
 "Yesterday Hopkins, Boswell and I went through 
 the streets giving tracts and speaking. We had sol- 
 emn talk with the people. At six we met on the 
 green. About one thousand were present. God 
 helped us all wondrously. He gave a very solemn 
 address. The people hung on our lips. We then 
 went to church. About four hundred came. It was 
 a very solemn meeting. Earely did I ever feel such 
 power at a meeting. About a hundred remained 
 to the second meeting. Some ten or twelve were 
 really anxious. We could hardly get the church 
 
 cleared. Mr. C , who had been preaching in a 
 
 village, came and had a meeting for the anxious in 
 the street. Some one asked them in. He had to 
 speak till eleven o'clock. Some evidently found the 
 Lord. Is it not blessed? I praise the Lord. The 
 
282 A Blessed Meeting. 
 
 Lord send floods. It is sweet to see such fruit at 
 first. 
 
 "September 13th. What a night we had last 
 night. I shall never forget it. We met at one 
 o'clock, and spoke in a small street; at seven H. 
 Ord at the Cross, and Hopkins and I took another 
 place. We then collected all into a school. It was 
 packed. At close, going out, they laughed, swore, 
 and mocked. Within we spoke to anxious souls, a 
 few ; and outside I tried to control the rabble. Oh, 
 how obscene they were ! It seemed as if the devil 
 had entered into them. At ten o'clock we could 
 hardly get the gate shut. We go to Mr. M'Phail's 
 church to-night, as the school is too small. This is 
 a fearful place. No tongue can tell its sin. I do 
 pray that God may convert many. Nothing is too 
 hard for Him. 
 
 "September 14th. The work goes on. God will 
 work here yet, I do believe, wondrously. We wait, 
 we long, we pray. 
 
 "September 18th. We had good meetings last 
 night. We only want more power — more power 
 from on high. A breath would fan much that is 
 now smouldering into a flame. We had some anx- 
 ious ones last night. Pray for me, and very spe- 
 cially for Forfar. The time is short. It is passing 
 away. It will soon be done. Some thirty attend 
 our daily prayer-meeting at noon. 
 
 " October 3d. We had a blessed meeting last 
 night. I was very ill yesterday, but to-day am 
 
Preparation for the Orkneys. 283 
 
 quite well. It was a very solemn meeting, and sev- 
 eral were brought to peace at close. One, a farm- 
 er's daughter, was a very decided case. All yester- 
 day I had much freedom. The work here is truly 
 a very decided one. We find every night some 
 new cases. It is a great thing to get something to 
 cheer. Oh, rejoice in the blessing descending ! We 
 have trial, but we have many blessings. We shall 
 have a kingdom yet and a crown of glory. 
 
 " October 15th. We had a very remarkable night 
 at the Cross on Saturday. About one thousand 
 came to hear. We went to the school at eight 
 o'clock. Last night (Sabbath) was a great night in 
 the church — great every way. I had much freedom. 
 Truly the Lord spoke through me. / never left a 
 •place ivith such regret, never in twenty years. The 
 work seems only beginning." 
 
 In November he went north to the feeing mar- 
 kets, and on his return visited Forfar, to find pre- 
 cious and abundant fruits of his trying labors there. 
 The end of the year found him at home, making 
 preparations for an evangelistic journey to the 
 Orkneys. 
 
284 His Manner of Living 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HIS MANNER OF LIVING AND MODE OF WORKING. 
 
 During the last years of his active life our evan- 
 gelist prosecuted his work with unflagging zeal. He 
 never rested save when he slept. He was often 
 weary ; but the more he was spent in the service of 
 Jesus, the more he loved the work. Indecision 
 never brought him to a stand-still. The silken cords 
 of sloth never detained him. Every minute was an 
 opportunity, and every opportunity was seized with 
 an almost stern promptitude. Through the grace 
 given him he could say, " I do not know that ten 
 minutes of my life ever pass without thinking of the 
 salvation of souls." His motto was, " Whatsoever 
 thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for 
 there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor 
 wisdom, in the grave whither thou goest." Often, 
 when exhausted and sick, did he say, " Ah, I know 
 the deep meaning of those words, ' There remaineth 
 therefore a rest to the people of God ; ' " and the hope 
 of that rest roused him, weary and ill though he 
 was, to fresh efforts in the work of the Lord. Let 
 us see how he spent his days. 
 
 The first part of the morning was given to prayer 
 and reading the Word. Thus he refreshed his own 
 spirit, and found a portion for others. To Christians 
 he happened to meet he was wont to say, " Here is 
 
and Mode of Working. 285 
 
 a sweet morsel for you — I have been rolling it like 
 candy-sugar in my mouth all the day." The por- 
 tions of Scripture in which he found comfort were 
 sometimes such as would not readily occur to others. 
 For example, he would say, " I cannot tell you how 
 much comfort I have found in this word, ' If the 
 righteous scarcely be saved.' I find it so hard for 
 me to be saved that I often fear I will never get 
 into the kingdom ; but then when I read that those 
 who are saved are saved with difficulty, with just 
 such a struggle as I have, I feel encom-aged." 
 
 In the earlier years of his course he spent part 
 of the morning in sketching or writing fully out his 
 sermons and addresses. A specimen of his outlines 
 may be given ; 
 
 FOLLOWING AFAR OFF. 
 "But Peter followed Him afar off, "—Matt. xxvi. 58. 
 
 I. Point out those that follow Christ afar off. 1. 
 Those who have some love, but grace is weak. 2. 
 Those who are ashamed to confess Christ before 
 men. 3. Those who walk inconsistently. 4. Those 
 who do not heartily promote Christ's cause. 
 
 II. The causes of following Christ afar oif. 1. 
 Weakness of faith. 2. Fear of man. 3. Attach- 
 ment to earthly things. 4. Self-confidence. 
 
 III. The sin and danger of following Christ afar 
 ojff. 1. It is not honorable. 2. It is not reasonable. 
 3. It is not comfortable. 4. It is not safe. 
 
 Part of his time was daily occupied in letter-writ- 
 
286 His Publications. 
 
 ing. A beniglited soul needs direction, a young con- 
 vert needs warning, a persecuted Christian needs 
 encouragement, a backslider needs healing, a poor 
 saint needs money, a fellow-laborer needs succor: 
 short, incisive, business-like notes winged with light 
 are quickly on their way. In one letter he pleads 
 the case of a neglected and poverty-stricken sufferer 
 whom he has discovered in some out of the way 
 hovel. In another he offers to find means for build- 
 ing a bridge over a Highland stream far away in 
 the north, and as he m-ges the prosecution of the 
 work with the greatest earnestness, you would fan- 
 cy, if you did not know the man, that the erection 
 was a matter of pecuniary interest to him, instead 
 of being, as it was, an affair of pure benevolence. 
 In all his letters he seems to breathe the air of eter- 
 nity. "Oh, how near eternity seems!" is his con- 
 stant exclamation. Death, judgment, heaven, and 
 hell are realities never lost sight of; and in the fore- 
 front of every epistle, however brief, stands the name 
 of the Master, too dear to be ever forgotten by the 
 fond disciple — Jesus Christ, Saviour of sinners. It 
 is not too much to say that by his letters, so prompt, 
 wise, affectionate, full of the Spirit and of eternity, 
 he was instrumental in conveying light and comfort 
 to thousands. 
 
 His publications, and the circulation of books and 
 tracts, formed part of his daily care and work, both 
 at home and in his evangelistic journeys. When- 
 ever or wherever you met him, you found him bring- 
 
''The Two Roads r 287 
 
 ing out or putting into cii'culation some fresh tract 
 or book. He studied the signs of the times. None 
 knew better than he the tastes of his countrymen 
 and the wants of the day. For instance, he brought 
 out a cheap edition of Hoge's " Bhnd Bartimeus," and 
 got it chculated in many thousands dm'ing the wide- 
 spread awakening of 1859-61. He took the pains, 
 and risk too, of getting it translated into Gaehc ; and 
 " BKnd Bartimeus " was sent up many a Highland 
 glen, and into many a sequestered nook, to tell of 
 Him who openeth the eyes of the blind, and saith 
 in his love to every needy child of man, " What wilt 
 thou that I should do imto thee ? " His edition of 
 Brooks's " Cabinet of Choice Jewels " was seasona- 
 ble and useful. For example, it was instrumental in 
 the conversion of a young man who is now a zeal- 
 ous Sabbath-school teacher and elder in the Free 
 Church. At one time we find him printing and 
 circulating 300,000 tracts ringing with the genuine 
 truth of the Gospel. Of this kind of literature, in 
 fact, he circulated whole tons. He procured the 
 translation into Gaelic of many little books which 
 were gratuitously distributed, or sold at a merely 
 nominal price. 
 
 To bring the Gospel before the eyes of careless 
 men he frequently devised new methods. For in- 
 stance, immense placards with "The Two Koads" 
 described, being the substance of a discourse on the 
 wide and strait gates, met your eye everywhere in 
 town and country. I have seen it on the wall of a 
 
288 Scraping Down the Devils Songs. 
 
 populous town in the strange company of quack 
 advertisements and theatre bills, and have heard 
 one passer-by say to another, " Stop, Jim, here's a 
 new style o't." They stopped, and read the old Gos- 
 pel in a new style. I have seen it hanging up in a 
 saw-mill in the corner of a dense wood in a wild 
 Highland glen, where all who trafficked in timber 
 read its sharp, soul-piercing truths amidst the dust 
 and noise. It found its way into the ploughman's 
 bothy. "What are you doing?" said one to a 
 
 couple of ploughmen in F shire, who, with hoe 
 
 in hand, were scraping the walls of their bothy. 
 "Ou, sir," was the reply, "we're just scrapin' aff the 
 deevil's sangs, and we're gaun to put up Christ's in 
 their place." At this juncture the foreman making 
 his appearance angrily forbade their proceeding fur- 
 ther in the ornamentation of the walls, but the men 
 stoutly made reply, " Deed, you never said a word 
 again' oor swearin' and singin' coorse sangs, and 
 surely you'll nae hinner's frae worshippin' and prais- 
 in' God ! Na, na ; we'll dae naething o' the sort as 
 stop. We'll hae doon the deevil's sangs, and put 
 up Christ's." " The Two Roads," with sundry hymns 
 and spiritual songs were then pasted in the most con- 
 spicuous places. 
 
 He was watchful against the spread of error. Of 
 all he ever published it would be difficult to find a 
 sentence that could be fairly construed to mean error, 
 or be held as likely to mislead a soul. Every little 
 book had its mission ; every tract was a messenger 
 
 I 
 
Visitations. 289 
 
 sent in the name of God. One was to awaken and 
 alarm; another was to warn and reprove; a third 
 was to persuade and win ; a fourth summoned to de- 
 cision ; a fifth was fitted to comfort and sanctify ; 
 and all wore sent forth in the name of Christ to seek 
 and save the lost. Taking into account the quality 
 and quantity of the seed, the breadth of deeply-fur- 
 rowed soil that was sown in those days, when God's 
 great ploughshare was running sharply through the 
 fallow ground and virgin soil of Scotland amidst 
 sweet April-like alternations of sunshine and shower 
 that then gladdened our happy land, it may be safe- 
 ly affirmed that the fruits could have been neither 
 few nor small. 
 
 All the profits of the publishing business went to 
 the gratuitous circulation of the particular tract or 
 book then in hand. Although the entire burden 
 lay on himself, his admirable business capacity and 
 methodic habits enabled him to keep his accounts 
 with perfect accuracy, and thus amidst a multitude 
 of affairs to avoid confusion, if not also loss. It was 
 but a subordinate part of his evangelistic work. The 
 risk, indeed, was considerable, and the labor im- 
 mense ; but he sought no recompense save the re- 
 ward that shines afar, and shines only to the clear 
 eye of faith. 
 
 A portion of the day was invariably spent in visit- 
 ing the sick, the aged, and the friendless. For this 
 kind of work he possessed a peculiar fitness, and in 
 it he found a peculiar joy. "You will miss your 
 19 
 
290 His Conversation. 
 
 friend Mr. Matheson," I said to a Christian couple of 
 feeble health and straitened circumstances. " Deed, 
 sir," was the reply, "we'll miss him sair. He had a 
 gey traffic wi' us, an' he was aye sae cheery. An' 
 mair than that, his hand was aye as ready wi' hia 
 ain siller as his tongue was wi' God's promises. 
 Mony a time he cam' in an' got's greetin,' an' he wag 
 sure to leave's laughin." Hes past the mournin' noo ; 
 he's weel hame, an' we a' maun try an' win hame 
 tae. But 'deed, sir, we'll miss him sair." Into many 
 a garret and cellar he carried the sunshine of an 
 unclouded cheerfulness. His divinity was always 
 served out with much humanity. Rare humors of 
 fancy mingled with his spiritual sayings, and seemed 
 no more out of place than children playing under 
 the shadow of a great cathedral, or birds singing in 
 a churchyard. As playful winds, seemingly of little 
 use in nature, precede the genial rain, so his droll- 
 eries prepared the way for those tender touches of 
 the deeper heart that call forth tears. Heavenly 
 thoughts arrayed in symbols of the earth imparted 
 interest to his talk. His conversation — proverbial, 
 quaint, suggestive, always genial and often power- 
 ful — was scarcely less useful than his preaching. 
 
 To a timid young Christian he said, "Be what 
 God meant you to be — a man." To one whom he 
 deemed unpractical he said, " Be real." To a flighty 
 one, "The Lord will clip your wings some day." 
 To a newly-married couple, "Mind this; A man can- 
 na grow in grace unless his wife let him." To 
 
Good Advice, 291 
 
 students preparing- for the ministry, "Lads, tak' a 
 guid grip o' God;" an advice which some of them 
 appear to have laid to heart. To warn them against 
 the deadening effect of classical studies he said, 
 "Mind, Christ was crucified between Greek and 
 Latin." To a student who seemed to him to be in 
 
 danger of intellectual pride he said, " W , irdd- 
 
 lectis the rock you'll split on." If that student, now 
 in a high position in the church, has not made ship- 
 wreck, his safety may be in measure due to the ad- 
 vice of his outspoken friend. To a preacher who 
 
 had crotchets he said, "B , preach Chrwt.'" To 
 
 one who was becoming a separatist : "You are doing 
 the very thing Satan desires. If he cannot destroy 
 a child of God, he will cripple him and destroy his 
 usefulness." To a Baptist disposed to make too 
 much of the water he said, "Labor to bring sinners 
 to the blood.'" 
 
 To a Christian complaining of coldness: "You 
 are cold because you are going away from the 
 fire: keep nearer to Christ'''' To young converts he 
 would often say, "Keep about Christ's hand." "Few 
 Christians shine; be you a shining one." "If you 
 wish to get far hen in heaven, keep near Christ on 
 earth." "You'll aye get what you go in for," was 
 his 'homely way of stating an important principle 
 of the divine administration. 
 
 To a desponding believer he said, "What would 
 you sell youi' hope for?" "I would not sell my 
 hope for worlds," was the reply. "Well, then," 
 
292 Fear of Being a Hypocrite, 
 
 said lie, "you are very rich, and need not droop." 
 "Oh, but I am so dead!" said another. "I never 
 heard the dead complain in that way," was his 
 reply. 
 
 "A lady, an earnest Christian worker, whose 
 creed is summed up in these three articles, "I 
 believe in heaven, I believe in hell, and I believe 
 in the third chapter of the Gospel according to 
 John," said to him one day, "Ah, Mr. Matheson, 
 I have lost my peace and my hope; I fear I am 
 going to perish." His reply was characteristic: 
 "What! you perish? I tell you, woman, if you 
 went to hell, the devil would say, 'AVhat is that 
 woman doing here, aye speaking aboot her Christ? 
 Put her out, put her out, put her out ! ' " Curiously 
 enough, that reply brought a relief to her mind 
 which much reading, prayer, and conference with 
 ministers and other godly friends had failed to 
 supply. 
 
 To young religious professors he said, with much 
 feeling and solemnity, "I often fear lest I turn out 
 at the judgment day to be nothing but a hypocrite." 
 That was his way of warning them, and in some 
 cases I know it took eifect. More than one of 
 those young Christians, awe-stricken, went home 
 to search and abase themselves before God, and so 
 were saved from the perils of self-confidence, if not 
 also from delusions that ruin the soul. The fear of 
 being a hypocrite, I firmly believe, was the only 
 fear Duncan Matheson ever knew. 
 
His Godly Jealousy. 293 
 
 He had no idea of the uneducated lay-preacher 
 affecting to be the fine gentleman or the clergy- 
 man. Meeting two young lay-evangelists, he said, 
 "So you have become grand gentlemen," glancing 
 at the same time at their new and finely-polished 
 walking canes. "Away with these showy things, 
 and be like your Master." To another he said, 
 
 "L , when did you become a minister?" "I 
 
 am not a minister," was the reply. "Well, then," 
 said he, "put away your white necktie, and just be 
 what you are, no more, no less." Then thrusting 
 a piece of gold into the young evangelist's hand, 
 he said in his kindliest tone, "This is to help to pay 
 your expenses. I am not able to preach, and I must 
 be doing something for Jesus." These are little 
 matters, but they serve to show with what godly 
 jealousy he watched over his younger brethren, and 
 how keen was his eye to discern the first step of 
 pilgrims into Bye-path Meadow. 
 
 In a certain place where evangelistic meetings 
 were being held, the lay-preachers, among whom 
 was Mr. Matheson, were sumptuously entertained 
 at the house of a Christian gentleman. After din- 
 ner they went to the meeting, not without some 
 difi*erence of opinion as to the best method of con- 
 ducting the services of the evening. "The Spirit 
 is grieved; He is not here at all, I feel it," said 
 one of the younger, with a whine which somewhat 
 contrasted with his previous unbounded enjoyment 
 of the luxuries of the table. "Nonsense," replied 
 
294 Preachers and Preaching'. 
 
 Matheson, wlio hated all wliining and morbid spir- 
 ituality ; "nothing of the sort. You have just eaten 
 too much dinner, and you feel heavy." 
 
 He had learned how to abound and how to suffer 
 want; and he once said, "I have observed during 
 all those years of evangelistic labor, that invariably 
 when I have enjoyed most blessing in the work, I 
 have suffered the greatest hardships; and, on the 
 other hand, when I have been dined, and feasted, 
 and carried shoulder high, there has been little 
 good done." He who is to be instrumental in 
 gathering in the elect of God must taste of Geth- 
 semane and Calvary. Christ's tools are tempered 
 in a hot furnace and sharpened on a hard grind- 
 stone. Luxury and ease are bad oils for the chariot 
 wheels of the Gospel. 
 
 Speaking of the encouragement given by the 
 Master to a young evangelist who was rejoicing in 
 his first success, Matheson said, "The Lord gives 
 these young soldiers victory without a wound ; but 
 when ive are leaving a place we get a shot in the 
 back to keep us humble and remind us that the 
 glory belongs to Him." He was very tolerant of 
 the faults of young converts. "The Lord winks at 
 their blunders and foibles because they don't know 
 better," he would say. "Let them sing away; God 
 Himself will teach them other tunes." 
 
 "There is no use in your coming here," it was 
 said to him in a certain place; "for the people 
 won't come out to hear the ministers themselves." 
 
Preachers and Preaching. 295 
 
 "Well, then," was his reply, "if they will not come 
 out to hear broadcloth, I will put on fustian." He 
 was right. 
 
 Of pointless and unfaithful preaching, however 
 pleasant to the ear or agreeable to the intellectual 
 taste, he always said, "It is just Nero fiddling 
 when Kome is burning." "That was an excellent 
 discourse," said he one day, after hearing a sermon, 
 "but the meshes were too wide, and the fish would 
 all get through." 
 
 On hearing a certain preacher praised as being 
 a fine speaker, he said, "Ay, but has he teeth?" 
 He often quoted a saying of the celebrated divine, 
 Dr. John Owen, to the effect that no preacher was 
 ever successful who had not a certain " tartness," 
 pungent power, in dealing with the conscience. Of 
 those preachers who by a skilful management of the 
 voice make pretence of emotion, and as it were iveep 
 to order^ he said, "They mimic the Holy Ghost: 
 what presumption ! " To a minister he said, " Preach 
 hell. Few ministers preach it, and few people be- 
 lieve in it; but it is a great reality.'''' "Some good 
 preachers," he said, "are much too long in their dis- 
 courses. They put me in mind of a man who, after 
 driving a nail home, keeps hammering at its head 
 till he has broken it and spoilt his own work." He 
 had no patience with ignorant lay -preachers, and 
 often said to the young men, " Lads, sink the shaft 
 deeper." On one occasion a man, imagining he had 
 a gift, requested permission to address Mr. Mathe- 
 
296 Genuine Friends. 
 
 son's meeting. This granted, the resnlt was a sad 
 display of ignorance, whereupon our evangehst, tap- 
 ping him on the shoulder, stopped him, saying, 
 "That'll do, John," quaintly and significantly add- 
 ing, " Man, don't you know the Shorter Catechism 
 is a splendid book for learners ? I would advise you 
 to study it a good while before you speak in public." 
 
 He was a good deal tried by the fickleness of 
 friends, and he would often say of such as were not 
 likely to stand in the day of trial, " He is nae to ride 
 the water wi'," adding, " I expect to have no more 
 than two or three genuine friends when I come to 
 die." Once, when he was fiercely assailed for the 
 Gospel's sake, a man addressed him in terms of 
 warmest friendship, saying, " Mr. Matheson, I will 
 stand your friend." Matheson, casting a penetrat- 
 ing glance at his new patron took his measure, and 
 replied, " Aye, aye. You will stand by me when I 
 am right; but will you stand by me when I am 
 wrong ? When I am right I don't need my friends : 
 I can stand on my own feet then. It's when I am 
 down that I need my friends. Man, will you help 
 me when I am in the mire ? " 
 
 " When I preached at W ," he was wont to 
 
 tell by way of illustrating a weak point in the friend- 
 ship of some, " and gave away my books gratuit- 
 ously, the people were my warm friends, and used 
 to shake my hand very cordially ; but when I stood 
 at a corner with a clothes-basket full of books which 
 I offered at half price, the good people did not recog- 
 
Pithy Sayings. 297 
 
 nize me. In fact they had suddenly become star- 
 gazers, and passed by without once seeing me." 
 
 On hearing one tell with apparent self-compla- 
 cency of a Christian who had fallen, he said with a 
 tenderness of feeling that made the reproof all the 
 more telling, "Ah, it's him the day, an' me the morn." 
 When shown a calumnious statement made against 
 him in a newspaper, he said joyfully, " Man, I do 
 like a little dirt cast upon me for the dear Master's 
 sake. I think Gabriel would shake hands with me 
 and say, 'I never had such an honor.'" "Suffering 
 persecution for righteousness' sake," he would say, 
 " is far better than a hundred dying testimonies of 
 those who never did or suffered any thing for Jesus." 
 
 "Mrs. died without giving any testimony," 
 
 said one of whom he stood in doubt. " What of 
 that?" was his reply; "you had the testimony of 
 her Christian life for forty years. If that be not 
 enough to convince you, then hear my dying testi- 
 mony just now : 
 
 ** 'I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all; 
 But Jesus Christ is my All in all. ' 
 
 Do you believe that ? " 
 
 He knew how to make a ploughshare of an ene- 
 my's sword. "This is no time for preaching," said 
 one angrily to him in a market. " Look here, friend," 
 he replied, "you believe in the Word of God?" 
 "Yes." "Well," said Matheson, "it is written, 'Be 
 instant in season and out of season.' You say this 
 
298 Men of Strong Passions. 
 
 is out of season. Well, we are just doing as we 
 are commanded: we are preaching out of season." 
 "These are men of strong passions," was the sneer- 
 ing remark of another in reference to our evangelist 
 and his fellow-laborers. "Thank God," said Mathe- 
 son, "we are men of strong passions. He has made 
 us of strong passions that we may be strong in his 
 service." Nothing gave him greater pain than a 
 blow dealt by a fellow-Christian. "An offended 
 child of God gives the keenest blow," he used to say ; 
 "he knows a Christian's tenderest part." Yet even 
 in this case he had his answer ready, "Now, just lay 
 your finger on the commandment I have broken, and 
 I will thank you. Which of the ten is it?" 
 
 In one place, where for a while he discharged the 
 duties of a pastor, some who were sick complained 
 that he had not paid them a visit. "Did you send 
 for the doctor?" he asked. "Yes." "Why, then, 
 did you not send for me? Is it because you care 
 more for your body than your soul?" 
 
 Another in similar circumstances said, "You 
 might have missed me out of church." "You are 
 mistaken," was his reply. "I go to the house of 
 God as a worshipper and a preacher, not as a c?e- 
 ^ec^we." 
 
 When the managers of a congregation among 
 whom he had labored with every token of success 
 for some time intimated to him that his services 
 would be no longer required, as they could secure 
 a preacher for ten shillings a week, he said, "Do 
 
Without Money. 299 
 
 you think you will get the worth of your money?" 
 To this sarcastic question no answer was given. 
 "Do as you have a mind," he went on to say; "but 
 I have a little money at present, and can preach for 
 nothing. God is blessing my labors here, and I dare 
 not leave the place. I will take a hall, and preach 
 there." On hearing all this, the congregation ral- 
 lied around him. He was requested to remain, and 
 his meetings were more crowded than ever. 
 
 His reproofs were often so sweetened with humor 
 that no oftence was given. Seeing several persons 
 coming into a meeting too late, he said, "In the 
 north a minister observing that a certain woman, 
 though lame and scarcely able to walk, was always 
 first at church, asked her how she managed to 
 come so early. 'Sir,' she replied, 'the hert gangs 
 first, and the feet follow.' " Those who come late, or 
 for some insufficient reason never come at all, have 
 been well named "the devil's cripples." Matheson 
 did not spare such, and sometimes asked if any one 
 knew how they always grow lame every seventh 
 
 day. 
 
 One day a gentleman called on him, and inquired 
 if he knew a preacher who could suitably occupy a 
 vacant pulpit in a certain large city. After some 
 conversation, in which the evangelist endeavored 
 to ascertain his visitor's ideal of a good minister, 
 
 Matheson said, "By the bye, do you know Mr. , 
 
 a preacher somewhere in your neighborhood ? How 
 would he do with you?" "I know him," was the 
 
300 An Astotindcd Visitor. 
 
 reply. "We have heard him preach repeatedly, but 
 he would not do with us at all." " Why so ? " " Oh, 
 he preaches damnation and frightens every body. 
 This is not the time of day for that sort of thing. 
 He would never do, sir." At this point the evan- 
 gelist brought down his fist upon the table with a 
 tremendous blow, and as if addressing the absent 
 preacher, exclaimed with his loudest voice, "Bravo! 
 
 M , bravo ! my old friend. Thank God, you are 
 
 still alive, and faithfully warning sinners of their 
 danger." Matheson's visitor was astounded, and 
 remembering he had an engagement at that mo- 
 ment, took up his hat and bade the evangelist good 
 morning. In this way he stood by his friends, and 
 this too he did at all hazards, as the following in- 
 stance will show. A minister preaching in a mar- 
 ket being assailed by a man under the influence of 
 drink, Mr. Matheson interposed, and drawing him- 
 self up to his full height said, "If you strike this 
 man of God it must be through my body." At 
 the sight of so formidable a barrier, the drunkard 
 quailed and slunk away. 
 
 In the course of his itineracy he once found 
 himself in a strange, out of the way region with 
 out a friend, without lodging, and without means. 
 It was drawing towards night, and he knew not 
 where to go. Seeing a boy crossing a field, he 
 called to him, and said, "Are there any godly peo- 
 ple here about?" "Na, na," replied the lad, "there 
 is nae sic fouk in this pairish." "Are there any 
 
The Greatest Hypocrite. 301 
 
 believers?" asked the evangelist. "Bleevers!" ex- 
 claimed the boy; "I never heerd o' sic things." 
 "Any religions people, then?" "I dinna ken ony 
 o' that kind ; I doot they dinna come this road at 
 a'." "Well, then," said the missionary, making a 
 last attempt, "are there any who keep family wor- 
 ship?" "Family worship," replied the lad, with a 
 bcAvildered look; "fat's that?" The boy, having 
 taken his last stare at the curions stranger, was 
 abont to go. Matheson was at his wits' end, when a 
 happy thought struck him. " Stop ! " he cried ; " are 
 there any hypocrites hereabout?" "Ou, aye," re- 
 plied the youth, brightening into intelligence; "the 
 
 fouk say that 's Avife is the greatest hypocrite 
 
 in a' the pairish." "Where is her house?" "Yon- 
 ner by," said the lad, pointing to a house about a 
 mile distant. Having rcAvarded his guide with a 
 penny, the last he had, he made his way to the 
 dAvelling of " the greatest h;y^30crite in the parish," 
 and knocked at the door as the shades of the night 
 were falling. The door was opened by a tidy, cheer- 
 ful, middle-aged matron, to whom the stranger thus 
 addressed himself; "Will you receive a prophet in 
 the name of a prophet, and you'll not lose your re- 
 ward?" She smiled, and bade him welcome. The 
 hospitalities of that Christian home were heaped 
 upon him, and he spent a delightful evening in fel- 
 lowship. In this way a lasting friendship began, 
 and, what was better, a door of usefulness was 
 opened to him. 
 
302 Striking Rebukes. 
 
 Talking one day to liis fellow-passengers in a rail- 
 way train about the concerns of the soul, he was 
 called a hypocrite. On this he took five shillings 
 from his purse, and said to his assailant in the hear- 
 ing of all tlie rest, "I'll give you this if you wdll 
 tell me what a hypocrite is." The man was silent. 
 "You don't know," continued the evangelist; "but 
 I will tell you. A hypocrite is one whose deeds 
 are not consistent with his words and professions. 
 Now I will give you ten shillings if you will point 
 out wherein my actions are inconsistent with my 
 profession." There was no reply, and Matheson 
 proceeded to improve the advantage thus gained 
 by making solemn and pungent remarks with man- 
 ifest impression on all present. 
 
 His practical good sense and ready wit were al- 
 ways at hand to help him. Some were objecting to 
 receiving money for religious purposes from uncon- 
 verted persons and people of the world. " I have no 
 objections whatever," was his reply. ^^ God's people 
 spoiled the Egyptians^ 
 
 Sometimes his rebukes were very striking. To a 
 lady, whose life was not in keeping with her light 
 and privileges, he one day said, " It has cost you, 
 madam, more trouble to get thus far on the Avay 
 to hell than it has cost many to get to heaven." 
 Startled, she exclaimed, "Explain yourself" "Con- 
 sider," he replied, "how many barriers you have 
 crossed; a mother's prayers, a father's godly life, 
 the remonstrances of conscience, heart-piercing ad- 
 
spiritual Conversation. 303 
 
 dresses and faithful warnings ; and above them all, 
 and in them all, the loving arms of the Saviour. 
 These have stood between you and hell, but you 
 have overleaped every barrier ; you have thrust the 
 outstretched hand of mercy aside, that you might 
 pursue the way to death. Tell me, are you now at 
 ease?" The lady burst into tears, and requested 
 him to pray. 
 
 " How is it," said another lady jestingly, " that 
 you godly folks have more trials than other people ? " 
 "Madam," he replied, "the godly have all ilieir hdl 
 upon the earth, just as you have all your heaven 
 here ; but when the redeemed are entering on their 
 eternal happiness, you will be beginning your ever- 
 lasting misery." 
 
 "How can you bear up amidst so many trials? " 
 it was asked of him. " I will answer that question," 
 said he, "in the language of an author I was reading 
 the other day. 'A child of God may be tossed by 
 reason of corruption and temptation on a troubled 
 sea ; but that ship shall never be wrecked, whereof 
 Christ is the Pilot, the Scriptures the compass, the 
 promises the tacklings, hope the anchor, faith the 
 cable, the Holy Ghost the winds, and holy affections 
 the sails.' No fear of our bearing up and getting 
 through ! " 
 
 He constantly endeavored to give the conversa- 
 tion everywhere a spiritual turn ; and this he could 
 do in an easy and natural way. A Christian lady 
 having got a sewing machine, he said, " Now I hope 
 
304 Revival -mad. 
 
 that, as the Lord gives you strength, you will use it 
 in sending missionaries to the heathen, or in help- 
 ing the Lord's work in some way." Calling when 
 very weary at a certain house, the hospitable mis- 
 tress prepared for him a cup of tea, with which 
 he was a good deal refreshed. "When I get home 
 above," he said, "I will tell Him, 'I was an hun- 
 gered, and ye fed me.'" 
 
 On visiting friends who had removed to a larger 
 house, he said, "Ay, you have got a big house, but 
 I have a mansion up yonder." One asked him if 
 he had ever been wounded while at the Crimea. 
 "No," he said; "but many a time by the enemy of 
 souls." On hearing of a family who were interested 
 in the Lord's work, and counted by the world revi- 
 val-mad, he said, " Oh, tell them from me to bite 
 every body they meet." Just as he was parting 
 
 with certain friends at A , the clock struck the 
 
 midnight hour, on which he said with great solem- 
 nity and power, " The mountains shall depart, and 
 the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not 
 depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my 
 peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy 
 on thee." As they were about to leave the house of 
 a Christian family where they had been hospitably 
 entertained, his companion made some allusion to 
 the reward promised those who gave a disciple a 
 cup of cold water in the name of a disciple, on 
 which he said in the hearing of all, "Oh, they have 
 the best bargain!" On a similar occasion, as he 
 
Living Above Self. 305 
 
 and his two companions were going away, he said, 
 "You may not be aware who your guests are: you 
 have been entertaining tliree, Mngsy 
 
 One day as he sat in a railway train he sang a 
 hymn, on which a fellow-traveller said to him, "You 
 seem a happy man." "Yes," he repHed, "I cannot 
 be but happy ; I am safe for time, and safe for eter- 
 nity." This led to fm^ther conversation, with which 
 the gentleman was so much pleased that he invited 
 
 Mr. Matheson to K , where he resided, to preach 
 
 the Gospel there. His happiness was a powerful and 
 effective sermon. By word, by look, and by deed, he 
 was constantly testifying to the goodness of his God. 
 "The Lord has been very, very kind to me," was his 
 frequent saying, and his cheerfulness was often more 
 powerful to win than words of persuasive eloquence. 
 But he did not overlook the other aspect of the Chri^ 
 tian's hfe. "How hard it is to live for eternity^'' he 
 would say. " Living above self and for God," he 
 added, "is real living for eternity." 
 
 It was the custom of our evangelist to hold a meet- 
 ing for prayer either at noon or in the evening. This 
 was preparatory to the evangelistic service which he 
 invariably conducted at the close of the day. Here 
 he refreshed his own spirit and renewed his strength : 
 here too the Christians were provoked to love and 
 good works. An open-air service frequently pre- 
 ceded the meeting within doors. The singing and 
 praying, the loud voice and bold manner of the lay- 
 preacher, arrested the attention of the passer-by, and 
 20 
 
306 TJie Tide Turned. 
 
 many who liad never darkened a church door w€Te 
 thus induced to enter the place of meeting. Scenes 
 of violence were not mfrequent on the street, and 
 the preacher received many a blow. At Forfar the 
 roughs began one night to throw stones at the 
 evangelist and his friends. "The devil is got weak 
 now," said Matheson, "when he's throwin' gravel." 
 Turning to his companions, he said, "Cheer on! the 
 enemy is at his worst, and Christ will soon triumph." 
 So it was. The tide turned ; and a remarkable work 
 of grace followed. 
 
 "You need not go there," said one who deemed 
 preaching Christ on the occasion of "an execution" 
 of no use; "the devil has such power there." "The 
 more need, then," was his reply, "for his being put 
 down." "We won't protect you," said the police at 
 a race-course. "A higher arm than yours will pro- 
 tect me," was his brave but meek reply. After a 
 fierce assault made upon him, a Christian began to 
 express sympathy with him; but he said, "Oh, what 
 about iliat? They crucified Him''' 
 
 His meetings within doors were conducted in the 
 usual way. His addresses were characterized by 
 great fulness and variety. He could speak to the 
 edifying of saints. With jubilant tones and a cheery 
 pilgrim-like air he often preached from the text, " We 
 are journeying unto the place of which the Lord said, 
 I will give it you : come thou with us, and we will 
 do thee good ; for the Lord hath spoken good con- 
 cerning Israel " (Num. x. 29). With swelling emo- 
 
Happy at all Times. 307 
 
 tions, and in sentences full of the music of his own 
 joy, he loved to describe the happiness of that people 
 whose God is the Lord. "Yes," he was wont to say, 
 "they are happy when they look hack and remember 
 the time when Jesus met and drew them to Himself 
 in wondrous love. Happy when they look forward 
 and see the pillar-cloud guiding them by a right way. 
 Happy wheA they look doivn and reflect that they 
 might have been weeping and wailing in the outer 
 darkness instead of singing, ' He took me from a fear- 
 ful pit, and from the miry clay.' And happy when 
 they look up and think of the exceeding and eternal 
 weight of glory that awaits them. Happy, indeed, 
 is that people whose God is the Lord." 
 
 But his speech was mainly directed to men in their 
 sins. Some as they advance in their ministry preach 
 less to sinners and mor-e to saints. The reverse was 
 true of him. "They say Duncan Matheson is nae 
 growin' ; he is aye preachin' death and judgment," 
 were his own words; "but," he added in self-defence, 
 "these are arrows I have often shot, and I have found 
 them effectual; why change them? " "The children 
 of God," said he quaintly, "will waggle through ae 
 w^ay or anither ; but sinners are in danger every mo- 
 ment, and so I keep at them." " Lord, stamp eternity 
 upon my eyeballs," was his frequent prayer. As the 
 light of eternity was ever growing more clear and 
 piercing in his soul, his heart bled with an increas- 
 ing compassion for the perishing. He was careful 
 in discriminating between the saved and the lost, 
 
308 The Knock at the Door. 
 
 between saint and sinner. He would no more have 
 assumed that all his hearers were true Christians 
 than that all the pebbles on the sea-shore are dia- 
 monds, or all the birds in the hedgerows night- 
 ingales. 
 
 The almost-saved had their sad history and too 
 probable end set forth in the description of a noble 
 ship crossing the wide ocean, surviving many a 
 storm, and then becoming a complete and hopeless 
 wreck at the harbor mouth. " Near the kingdom," 
 he used to say, " is not in it. You may perish with 
 your hand on the latch of heaven's gate." 
 
 To the careless, he often said, " There is a ques- 
 tion which none in heaven can answer, and none in 
 hell: can you? It is, 'How shall we escape, if we 
 neglect so great salvation V ' " 
 
 Many a time did the formalist and hollow pro- 
 fessor quake as he heard himself described in a dis- 
 course from the text, " I saw the wicked buried, 
 who had come and gone from the place of the holy ; 
 and they were forgotten in the city where they had 
 so done " (Eccl. ix. 10). 
 
 Powerfully and affectionately did he plead with 
 men on Christ's behalf as he spake from the touch- 
 ing words, " Behold, I stand at the door and knock," 
 using homely illustrations of the truth. " A little 
 boy, hearing his father read that passage aloud," he 
 was wont to tell, " rushed away from the window 
 where he was playing, and looking with wondering 
 and eager eyes into his parent's face, said feelingly. 
 
The Child's Question. 309 
 
 'But, father, did they let Him in?' Friends, you 
 have heard the knock in some powerful sermon, 
 some faithful warning, or when your cheeks ran 
 down with tears and your very heart-strings were 
 breaking as they lowered the little coffin with your 
 dear babe into that cold grave. But did you let 
 Him in? Perhaps you say, 'I fain would, but can- 
 not' A minister once knocked at the door of a poor, 
 aged, and lone woman ; but he received no answer. 
 Louder, and louder still, he knocked. At length, as 
 he kept his ear close to the door, he heard a feeble 
 voice, saying, ' Who is there ? ' ' It is I, the minis- 
 ter,' was the reply. 'Ah, sir,' said the woman, 'I 
 am lying very ill, and cannot rise to let you in ; but 
 if you would come in, just lift the latch and open the 
 door for yourself The good man cheerfully com- 
 plied, and went in to comfort the dying suiferer 
 with the consolations of the Gospel. Now, my hear- 
 ers, you say you cannot open the door yourselves. 
 I well believe you. But there is a remedy for your 
 helplessness ; ask the Lord Jesus to open the door 
 for Himself and come in. And He will come in. 
 Believest thou this? Some of you who once heard 
 the knock of Christ, hear it not now. Well do I 
 remember being startled and kept awake by the 
 boom of the cannon when I went to the Crimea. 
 After a time, however, I grew accustomed to it, and 
 could sleep amidst the roar of the artillery. So it is 
 with many. Jesus knocks at your door in vain. 
 His knocking does not trouble you now as once it 
 
310 The Second Birth. 
 
 did. In vain He pleads with yon, telling yon that 
 His locks are wet with the dews of night. He is 
 ont in the cold, dark, wet night ; bnt yon care not. 
 He is threatening to depart and leave you to perish ; 
 bnt you are too drowsy to listen or to care. To- 
 night He may go away forever. The last knock 
 will be given. This may be the last one. What 
 then? oh! what then?" 
 
 Eegeneration by the Holy Ghost formed a large 
 and prominent part of his teaching. He had dwelt 
 long beneath the awful shadow of this great mys- 
 tery of grace, and he often said, " I have always 
 been afraid to preach on that text, ' Except a man 
 be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.'" 
 Yet he continually and most emphatically announced 
 the necessity and explained the nature of the second 
 birth. "Who made you a Christian?" he would 
 ask. " Some are made Christians by their parents, 
 some by their Sabbath-school teachers, others by 
 their ministers and pastors, and many are made 
 Christians by themselves. But man-made Chris- 
 tians cannot enter the kingdom of God. Friend, 
 were you made a Christian by the Holy Ghost? 
 They get their salvation from man, not from God. 
 The sons of God are born ' not of blood, nor of the 
 will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.' 
 ' That which is born of the flesh is flesh ; and that 
 which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Marvel not 
 that I said unto thee, Ye must be born again.'" 
 This great truth of the Gospel he proclaimed with 
 
The Twofold Remedy. 311 
 
 no less skill than power, on the one hand avoiding 
 the danger of making it a stnmbling-block to the 
 sincere inquirer, and on the other hand taking care 
 that it should not jostle responsibility out of the 
 field, and set men asleep on the damning excuse, " I 
 cannot make myself a new creature ; I must wait, 
 and do nothing, till the Spirit comes." 
 
 The sovereignty of God in the salvation of man, 
 the sinner's need of the Spirit's grace, the helpless- 
 ness, folly, and infatuated wickedness of the human 
 heart, were truths written as by a pen of iron and 
 the point of a diamond upon his innermost heart ; 
 and he always spoke as he believed. One day a 
 friend referred in conversation to the errors of a 
 low Arminianism that leaves no room and no need 
 for the work of the Holy Spirit or the election of 
 grace. Suddenly stopping, he said, " It won't do, 
 
 J ; the truth is, you and I would be damned, if 
 
 it were not for election. But that grips," he added 
 in a decided tone, at the same time clenching his 
 fist. "Yes," he continued, "that is true," and suit- 
 ing the action to the word, he added, "I know that 
 if I had one foot in heaven, and Christ were saying 
 to me, ' Put in the other,' I would not do it." 
 
 Stating clearly the sinner's guilt and wickedness, 
 the evil conscience and the depraved heart, with 
 equal clearness and force he proclaimed the twofold 
 remedy — the blood of Christ and the all-powerful 
 grace of the Holy Ghost. After setting forth the 
 utter ruin of man, it was his manner to say, "Here 
 
312 A Full Christ for Empty Sinners. 
 
 is the sinner, and there is 'the blood:' the great 
 question is, 'How may these two be brought to- 
 gether?' The answer is, 'The Holy Ghost: He 
 only can do it.' " 
 
 The Alpha and Omega of all his addresses, 
 whether to saints or sinners, was Jesus Christ. 
 "A full Christ for empty sinners" was ever his 
 cry. "This man receiveth sinners" was a favor- 
 ite text, from which he feelingly discoursed of the 
 love, pity, and tenderness of the Lord Jesus in deal- 
 ing with sinners. The Saviour whom he loved to 
 preach was He whose great heart gave way, like the 
 heart of a little child, when on the mount of Olives 
 He burst into tears at the sight of the doomed city. 
 The Redeemer whom he proclaimed was that Holy 
 One who bore so rare a friendship for publicans and 
 sinners. The Christ whom he held up to admiration 
 was the same who took little babes in his arms to 
 bless them, and received old sinners, like Zaccheus, 
 into the same bosom, and saved them. He preached 
 Jesus as able to save to the uttermost ; whose arm of 
 grace reacheth to the lowest depth of man's misery 
 and the farthest bound of man's wickedness. It was 
 Christ always ; Christ more and more to the last ; it 
 was "Jesus only." His preaching was but an echo 
 of the announcement made by the heavenly host 
 on that memorable night when the plains of Beth- 
 lehem were aglow with a softer, sweeter light than 
 the light of moon or stars, and all the woodland 
 rang with a music that ravished the shepherds' 
 
Meetings with Inquirers. 313 
 
 hearts, and woke the sheep from their gentle slum- 
 bers, as those nightingales of another world — the 
 angels — sang, "Glory to God in the highest, on 
 earth peace, good will toward men." 
 
 In short, Christ and Him crucified, Jesus risen 
 and exalted to be a Prince, a Saviour, the Lamb of 
 God, Substitute, Surety, Eedeemer, the power of God 
 and the wisdom of God to every one that believeth 
 — ^this was all his theme. And there are tens of 
 thousands who will recall the image of the brave, 
 outspoken, and genial preacher, asking with equal 
 point and feeling the question he never wearied ask- 
 ing, " What think ye of Christ? " 
 
 "How sweet the name of Jesus sounds 
 In a believer's ear ! 
 It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, 
 And drives away his fear. 
 
 "It makes the wounded spirit whole, 
 And calms the troubled breast; 
 'Tis manna to the hungry soul. 
 And to the weary rest. 
 
 "Jesus ! my Shepherd, Guardian, Friend, 
 My Prophet, Priest, and King, 
 My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End, 
 Accept the praise I bring." 
 
 At an early period of his course as an evange- 
 list, Mr. Matheson was led to follow the practice 
 of meeting with inquirers at the close of every ser- 
 vice. " He came to preach at Stirling in 1858," 
 
314 Drawing in the Net. 
 
 writes the Eev. W. Eeid, editor of the British Her- 
 ald^ " when two meetings were got up for him, and 
 at the close those who were anxious were requested 
 to remain to be spoken to personally in the pews — a 
 thing unknown before in Scotland. We remember 
 how shy our dear departed friend looked when one 
 said to him, ' Will you speak to those in that pew ? ' 
 He did so with some hesitation; he said nothing 
 about it at the time, but years afterwards he re- 
 ferred to it, and said it was the first time he had 
 seen or done such a thing, ' and I thank God that it 
 was forced upon me, and the neck of the thing was 
 broken, and that I was no longer content to fire at 
 long range, but to come face to face with souls.' 
 He found it, he said, one of the steps by which the 
 Lord prepared him and led him on in his work, and 
 it was no strange thing for him ever afterwards, as 
 long as he lived, to come into personal contact with 
 awakened souls." 
 
 Being a true fisher of men, he not only let down 
 the net for a draught, but drew it up again to see if 
 any were caught. Some may be too hasty in search- 
 ing for results ; but even a little impatience of zeal is 
 better than the dozing indolence of those who, under 
 pretence of honoring divine sovereignty, make no 
 inquiry, and cannot so much as tell whether their 
 net has enclosed minnows or monsters. The meet- 
 ing for directing inquirers was a necessity of the 
 sudden and widespread awakening; and, notwith- 
 standing its occasional abuse or mismanagement, 
 
The Crisis. 315 
 
 has served important ends in the work of God and 
 the salvation of souls. 
 
 Many Christians will remember with gratitude 
 and joy the first time they were brought face to face 
 with a soul grappling with the tremendous realities, 
 sin^ eternity^ and God. Tt forms an epoch in the life 
 of a pastor, or of any Christian. You feel you are 
 in the presence of an immortal spirit in the very 
 crisis of its being. You see the battle, the agony, 
 the portentous despair of a soul wrestling with in- 
 visible powers of overwhelming might; and you 
 tremble as you behold the fainting spirit toiling be- 
 twixt wisdom and madness to roll back the rising 
 billows of infinite sorrow and ill. You know you 
 are in the presence of the Divine Worker, and you 
 seem to feel upon your own spirit the very breath 
 of the Life-giver as He breathes on the dry bones, 
 and evokes a fairer form than Adam's from poorer, 
 sadder dust than the freshly bedewed soil of Para- 
 dise. Wise and patient dealing with inquirers is 
 to a well-instructed believer one of the choicest 
 means of grace. 
 
 Not many Christians, however, are qualified for 
 this difficult work. During the period of religious 
 awakening there was more or less patching of old 
 garments and filling old bottles with new wine. 
 The wound was sometimes too slightly healed, and 
 comfort was given where blows were needed. If 
 that old piece of legalism was abandoned, " Go home 
 and read your Bible, and use the means of grace," 
 
3i6 His Wisdom and Skill 
 
 which, in effect is to say, " Go and work yonrself 
 into a state of grace," there was a rush to the oppo- 
 site extreme in a species of bribing simpler ones into 
 saying they beheved, the great question being not 
 answered, but hushed up. " Only just believe ; just 
 believe." Very good; but what am I to believe? 
 What is it to believe ? How am I to believe ? There 
 is often an anchor in the deep that binds the strug- 
 gling soul to the shores of sin and death. Not every 
 Christian can grapple in the depths for the myste- 
 rious hinderance that binds the awakening spirit in 
 unbelief Some are gifted by the Holy Ghost for 
 this part of the work. 
 
 In dealing with inquirers Mr. Matheson always 
 took care to discriminate between those who, as he 
 was wont to say, "had only a scratch" and those 
 who were deeply wounded. To the former he would 
 speak a word fitted to deepen conviction and pass 
 on ; to the latter he never failed to preach Christ. 
 He also found two very different classes who spoke 
 the same language, both declaring they had no con- 
 viction. One of those classes had indeed little or no 
 conviction of sin, and he dealt with them accord- 
 ingly. The other class were penetrated with a sense 
 of sin, but could see nothing in themselves but utter 
 hardness of heart. These often prove to be the best 
 cases. He never failed to bring inquirers to the 
 Word of God and the cross of Christ. His own ex- 
 perience was ever of great use in giving direction 
 and encouragement. A full, free, and present salva- 
 
in Dealing with Inquirers. 317 
 
 tion in the Lord Jesus was held out to every soul. 
 If they were sinking in deep waters, Jesus was at 
 hand to help them. If they had no right conviction 
 of sin, as they said, they had the greater need to 
 come at once to Christ to receive conviction, pardon, 
 holiness, and every blessing freely from Him. Christ 
 is the good Physician, and can deal effectually with 
 broken hearts and unbroken hearts, hard hearts, 
 proud hearts, fickle hearts, and all kinds of wicked 
 hearts. " I will take away the stony heart out of 
 your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh," 
 is the gracious and true word of Him who came to 
 call not the righteous, but sinners to repentance. 
 "There was once," said our evangelist, "a little bird 
 chased by a hawk, and in its extremity it took ref- 
 uge in the bosom of a tender-hearted man. There 
 it lay, its wings and feathers quivering with fear, 
 and its little heart throbbing against the bosom of 
 the good man, whilst the hawk kept hovering over 
 head, as if saying, 'Deliver up that bird, that I may 
 devour it' Now, will that gentle, kind-hearted man 
 take the poor little creature that puts its trust in 
 him out of his bosom, and deliver it up to the hawk ? 
 What think ye? Would you do it? No; never. 
 Well, then, if you flee for refuge into the bosom of 
 Jesus, who came to seek and to save the lost, do 
 you think He will deliver you up to your deadly 
 foe? Never! never! never!" 
 
 In dealing with inquirers, his power lay not so 
 much in the clear, terse way in which he stated the 
 
3i8 The Good Physician. 
 
 plan of salvation, as in his homely, genial manner of 
 applying, like a kind and skilful physician, the 
 balm to the wound. Not seldom, when others rea- 
 soning out of the Scriptures failed, he would come 
 and try his easy, off-hand method, in which there 
 was profound knowledge of human nature and true 
 Christian wisdom, without any show of either. A 
 young man of talent, now a devoted follower of 
 Jesus, found himself at the close of a meeting in 
 deep distress. " Downcast and sad," he says, " I was 
 stealing away from Mr. Matheson, whom I did not 
 wish to meet. Wonderful love of Jesus! who marks 
 our wayward steps, and still in tenderness and love 
 calls after us, 'Come unto Me,' I was unexpectedly 
 confronted by Mr. M., who introduced me to a min- 
 ister. Hesitatingly I began, in answer to kind in- 
 quiries, to state my case, when Mr. M. laying his 
 hand on my shoulder, said, 'Oh, I know what's 
 wrong wi' James. I know what James is wanting. 
 It was a' settled eighteen hundred years ago ; but 
 James is not satisfied with that, he would like some- 
 thing more. Isn't that it now ? But that's enough, 
 man. Let that suffice for you.' In this way he 
 held up the finished work of Christ, and relief 
 followed." 
 
 Such was the manner of his life and work. It 
 was a life full of toil, weariness, and sorrow ; it was 
 also full of truth, and wisdom, and goodness. It was 
 strangely checkered. One day we find him associ- 
 ated with the noblest in the land, who do him 
 
 I 
 
Souls and Eternity. 319 
 
 honor as a man of original character and apostolic 
 virtue : next day he is out of sight in some obscure 
 village, where he is despised and shunned by all 
 save a faithful few. Now he stands up to speak by 
 the side of the eloquent Guthrie, the Moderator of 
 the General Assembly of the Free Church, who is 
 not ashamed to acknowledge the evangelist and to 
 share in his work. Many days have not elapsed 
 when he is rejected by a little town for whose salva- 
 tion he had labored with heroic endurance : for his 
 too pointed rebuke of sin he is driven forth amidst a 
 tornado of odium so fierce, that not one of his Chris- 
 tian friends has the courage to stand up and say, 
 "God bless him!" But whether honored here or 
 dishonored there, feasted one day or starved the 
 next, he held on his way with one noble end in 
 view — ^the salvation of souls. In the midst of the 
 world, with its huge, overbearing materialism, its 
 gorgeous mammon-worship, its fascinating sensu- 
 ousness, its carnal intoxications, its choice delights 
 of godless pleasure, he saw nothing but souls^ and 
 spoke only of eternity. Men everywhere mad upon 
 their idols he confronted in the name of the invis- 
 ible God. To the intoxicated worshippers of Time 
 he constantly presented the dread realities of eter- 
 nity, demanding of them the sacrifice of a delicious, 
 heart-ravishing present, and the acceptance of Christ 
 and everlasting life, or the peril of hell's pains for a 
 refusal. With unconquerable long-suffering he thus 
 held on his way to the end. 
 
320 His Spiritual Children. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SOME SHEAVES FROM THE HARVEST-FIELD. 
 
 **As streams of water in the south, 
 Our bondage, Lord, recall : 
 Who sow in tears, a reaping-time 
 Of joy enjoy they shall. 
 
 "That man who, bearing precious seed, 
 In going forth doth mourn ; 
 He doubtless, bringing back his sheaves, 
 Rejoicing shall return." 
 
 They that wisely and steadfastly set their hearts 
 on winning souls are usually favored with abun- 
 dant success. They delight themselves in God, and 
 in terms of the promise He gives them the desire 
 of their hearts. For many years Duncan Matheson 
 prayed for a wide-spread revival of true religion. 
 The great awakening at length took place, and he 
 was honored above most men in reaping its fruits. 
 "Give me children, else I die!" was the spirit of 
 all his prayers; and, if facts be of any value, his 
 prayers were abundantly answered. 
 
 Several of his spiritual children are already able 
 preachers of the Gospel; some are successful mis- 
 sionaries at home; and some have gone forth to 
 preach among the heathen the unsearchable riches 
 of Christ. A considerable number are useful elders 
 and deacons; others are earnest Sabbath-school 
 teachers and valiant street-preachers ; while many 
 
Fruits of His Labors. 321 
 
 more distribute tracts, visit the sick, the outcast, 
 and the perishing. Hundreds are quietly doing 
 that noblest and most difficult kind of Christian 
 work — training up their children in the fear of the 
 Lord. A multitude live to preach the most eloquent 
 of sermons — carrying a cross for Christ ; and sing the 
 grandest psalm sung out of heaven — living a holy 
 life. With well-authenticated instances of conver- 
 sion it would not be difficult to fill a volume. Let 
 us take a few from amongst many. 
 
 "I find the fruits of his labors in the various dis- 
 tricts which I visit," is the testimony of a venerable 
 servant of the Lord Jesus Christ on his returning 
 from a recent evangelistic tour. "His footprints 
 will long remain fresh and warm all over the North. 
 I spoke to an interesting young sailor in a railway 
 carriage some time ago. He was an Englishman 
 and a warm-hearted Christian. He told me that, 
 years ago, when his ship lay in the harbor of Mac- 
 duff, he went ' to hear a man called Duncan Mathe- 
 son in the Free Chm'ch on a week evening, and the 
 Lord apprehended him.' " 
 
 A thoughtless young man at C went one 
 
 night to hear him preach, and came aAvay with an 
 arrow in his conscience; but having promised to 
 attend a ball, he went to the gay assembly in the 
 hope of ridding his mind of anxious thoughts amidst 
 the music and the dance. Not thus was his wound 
 to be healed. In the midst of the dance the thought 
 of eternity seized upon him, and he rushed out to 
 21 
 
322 Interesting Cases. 
 
 seek Christ in the darkness of the night. He did 
 not seek in vain. The Hght of the glory of God in 
 the face of Jesus Christ dawned upon his soul. He 
 now abandoned the gaieties of the world, and after 
 a brief career of faith and holiness fell asleep in 
 Jesus. 
 
 Another young man, a mason by trade, was 
 awakened, and went frequently to hear Matheson. 
 For a while he could find no rest to his soul. The 
 terrors of the Lord followed him to his work ; and 
 when the thought of judgment to come arose in his 
 mind, he would begin to hammer the stones with 
 furious energy. His fellow-workmen were aston- 
 ished; and when they asked him what ailed him, 
 he made no reply, so entirely was he absorbed in 
 his endeavors to stifle conviction. "The more I 
 hammered," said he, "the worse I grew." Heav- 
 ier and still heavier fell the blows of the Spirit's 
 hammer, till at length, reduced to self-despair, he 
 dropped into the arms of Jesus and found rest. 
 
 On one occasion when he was preaching on the 
 links at Aberdeen, "a gay and godless young man," 
 as he describes himself, was passing by. An arrow 
 guided by the Spirit pierced the conscience of the 
 youth. He was converted and studied for the min- 
 istry. Last year he was ordained as a missionary 
 to Madagascar. As the evangelist passed away to 
 his rest, the young missionary stood up amidst the 
 solemn services of his ordination at Aberdeen to tell 
 the audience that the voice of Duncan IMatheson 
 
Incident at Perth. 323 
 
 had been the trumpet of God to his ear, calHng him 
 into the fellowship of grace, and the ministry of the 
 Lord Jesus. The standard had just di'opped from 
 the hands of the brave standard-bearer as he fell; 
 but bravely was it caught up by his own son in the 
 faith to be planted on the high places of the field, 
 where even now scenes of surpassing glory are wit- 
 nessed in the triumphs of the cross. In the labors 
 of the foreign missionary it is permitted us to hope 
 that the voice of the home evangelist will find a 
 powerful echo among the falling idols of that dis- 
 tant island, and result in gathering a multitude of 
 the heathen to Christ. Thus not in vain did he sow 
 beside all waters. The little winged seeds, not visi- 
 ble to every eye, dropping from the branches amidst 
 the blasts of northern winter are being wafted on the 
 breeze of providential circumstance to the prepared 
 soil of the sunny south. "This also cometh from the 
 Lord of hosts, who is wonderful in counsel, and ex- 
 cellent in working." 
 
 At Perth, when special services were in progress. 
 a young man from Glasgow happened to call at the 
 house of Mrs. S., where Mr. Matheson was staying. 
 
 AVhen the evangelist was informed that J\Ir. 
 
 had been at the door, he said, " Perhaps he has been 
 brought here at this time to be converted and saved. 
 Let us pray for him." Prayer was offered as follows 
 (I quote this from the journal of Mrs. S.): "0 God, 
 if Thou hast brought him to this house, to this town, 
 and to this hall, to save his soul, it will be a won- 
 
324 A Word in Season. 
 
 derfnl thing. Do it, Lord, do it." The young man 
 went to the meeting in the hall, was awakened and 
 converted. His own testimony is this: "I was a 
 member of an influential Presbyterian Church, a 
 Sabbath-school teacher, and a tract-distributor, but 
 up to that night I was a dead soul. Then I was 
 brought to see I was dead ; and then by grace I 
 passed from death unto life through faith in Jesus." 
 
 At Kirriemuir a young woman newly awakened 
 was urging her companion to remain to the second 
 meeting, " Never mind," said Mr. IMatheson, " let 
 her go her own way; she is determined to perish." 
 This word, accompanied by a look of piercing ten- 
 derness, went to the heart of the thoughtless girl. 
 "Yes, yes," she said to herself, "I am going my 
 own way, and that way is to death." The arrow 
 was from the bow of the unerring marksman; 
 and the same invisible hand that shot it drew it 
 out, and healed the wound with the balm of his 
 peace-speaking blood. After two years of a holy 
 life that young believer calmly fell asleep in Jesus. 
 
 At Forfar, as Avas his wont in a strange place, he 
 made the children his friends, and sent them to tell 
 their fathers and mothers to come and hear a stran- 
 ger preaching. " Mither," said a little boy, "there's 
 a new man come to the toon to preach; gang and 
 hear him." Thinking it strange to be asked by her 
 boy, she resolved tliough Avith some reluctance to 
 go. How to conceal from her neighbors her going 
 to a revival meeting Avas her difficulty. Nicode- 
 
'' Yell no Need the BasketT 325 
 
 mus went to Jesus under cover of night : this wo- 
 man took her market-basket on her arm as if she 
 was going to make the usual daily purchase, and 
 thus screened herself from the observation and jeers 
 of her neighbors. Day after day she appeared at 
 the meeting with the basket. At length she was 
 brought to the Lord. "Ye'U no need the basket 
 any more," said the evangelist to her with a signifi- 
 cant twinkle of his eye. The basket was laid aside : 
 she boldly avowed the Saviour, and became signally 
 useful in bringing others of the same class. 
 
 A woman residing in the country, impelled by 
 curiosity, went to Forfar to hear the lay-preacher. 
 Deeply impressed, she resolved on taking the fullest 
 advantage of the meetings, and took lodgings in 
 the town with the view of attending every service. 
 The result was her conversion. She went home, 
 walked with God, testified for Christ, and after 
 a short time fell asleep in Jesus. She knew the 
 day of her merciful visitation. Such is the work 
 of grace. 
 
 One day he is standing at a street corner in Perth, 
 and is singing — 
 
 "Nothing either great or small, 
 Nothing, sinner, no: 
 Jesus did it, did it all, 
 Long, long ago." 
 
 A young man passing by was arrested by the 
 words of the hymn, which seemed to convey a new 
 truth. He listened a moment. A light he had 
 
326 A Station-master s Testimony. 
 
 never seen before dawned upon his heart, and as 
 he stood there on the pavement he became a new 
 creature in Christ Jesus. 
 
 "Never shall I forget the first time I had the 
 pleasure of hearing Mr. Matheson," writes a sta- 
 tion master on a northern railway. "I was then 
 a stranger to grace and to God. Much against 
 my will I was induced to listen to God's message 
 through him, and for the first time in all my life I 
 was convinced that I was without God, and with- 
 out hope in the world. His text, 'Escape for thy 
 life,' was brought home to my heart with power 
 and demonstration of the Spirit. I was in due time, 
 thank God, brought out of darkness into His mar- 
 vellous light, and from the power of Satan unto God. 
 Oh, then, extol the Lord with me, and let us exalt 
 His name together." 
 
 Take another — a young man. " I was induced 
 by a friend to go to W Free Church on a Sun- 
 day afternoon. The preacher was Duncan Mathe- 
 son. His text was, "Behold, I stand at the door 
 and knock," etc. The word came with power to my 
 soul ; so much so that, although very reluctant to 
 give way, I could not refrain from shedding tears. 
 This being noticed by Mr. M. he came and spoke, 
 and invited me to the vestry. I afterwards went 
 to the open-air meeting, where my convictions were 
 deepened. For six weeks I continued in great dis- 
 tress; and all the more that many who appeared 
 not so anxious as I was were obtaining liberty from 
 
Another Testimony. 327 
 
 their burdens. In order to be alone I went in tlie 
 darkness of night to the hill and knelt to pray, but 
 was often disturbed by the sound of footsteps, as I 
 fancied, but no one appeared. At this time I was 
 looking for a mysterious revelation of the Lord Je- 
 sus, with conscious freedom from my burden and 
 for joy. I had been urged to receive the Lord Jesus 
 into my heart; and in church I kept calling in- 
 wardly faster than tongue could express it, ' Come 
 in. Lord Jesus ! come in ! come in ! ' thinking that 
 if I continued long enough the Lord would come in ; 
 but all in vain. I went home and threw myself on 
 my knees with the intention of praying till I got 
 the blessing. I continued with strong cries and 
 tears until, as I was afterwards told by the rest in 
 the house, the people in the street were standing to 
 listen. When I thought I was about to obtain de- 
 liverance, it was suggested to my mind that by 
 earnest prayer I could get it any time; and, stop- 
 ping, the Spirit was grieved for a time. I felt I was 
 
 relapsing, and went again to hear Mr. M. in H 
 
 Free Church, and at the close of the service went 
 with other inquirers into the vestry. Here he ad- 
 dressed us very solemnly, and ended by asking three 
 times, 'Who is for Christ?' My heart responded, 
 'Me, me.' The moment of my deliverance was 
 come, and the third time the question was put, I 
 sprang to my feet, and exclaimed, 'I'm for Christ!' 
 On second thoughts I was afraid I had committed 
 a great sin ; but the words, ' Believe on the Lord 
 
328 The Strait Gate. 
 
 Jesus, and thou shalt be saved,' were open and ap- 
 plied to my heart by the Holy Ghost as they had 
 never been ; and I was filled with peace. I ran to 
 my office, but could not work, and went on praying 
 and singing alternately. I felt an unspeakable love 
 to my employer, and thought as he sat beside me I 
 could do any thing for him." Years have passed, 
 and this young man has gone on and prospered, 
 being now an elder in a Free Church, and an inde- 
 fatigable worker in the vineyard of the Lord. 
 
 " I had convictions and the strivings of the Spir- 
 it," writes another young man, " from my very in- 
 fancy. Fears of perishing often possessed my little 
 heart, especially at night, and I endeavored to ob- 
 tain peace by repeating my prayers. As I grew 
 up, I became reckless and even profane. Happen- 
 ing to be from home on a visit to my friends at 
 
 M , I went to hear Mr. Matheson, who was that 
 
 night in the village. His text was, ' Strive to en- 
 ter in at the strait gate ; for many, I say unto you, 
 will seek to enter in, and shall not be able.' Every 
 word he uttered fell with power upon my heart. 
 Conviction of the truth flashed upon me. I felt as 
 if I were the only one in the church, and that every 
 word was directed to me. I was most miserable. 
 I saw I had been rejecting Christ and trifling with 
 God, all the time He had been seeking to lead me 
 to Himself Mr. Matheson said that people sought 
 to enter in and were not able, because they would 
 not take Christ as then- all. I felt I was doing that. 
 
Deliverance. 329 
 
 He spoke also of the Saviour standing by the side 
 of the broad way, and stretching out his hand to stop 
 the sinner in his hellward course, and the sinner 
 pushing aside that gracious hand and hastening on 
 to destruction. I saw I had been doing so. I never 
 was in such an agony. It was terrible work now 
 with me. The church was surrounded with woods, 
 and oh, how I longed to get out and hide myself in 
 them ! I thought I should wrestle with God until 
 I found Christ. I felt as if I could have given life 
 itself to be reconciled to God : I could not bear the 
 thought of being His enemy any longer. It was 
 life or death with me ; and I felt that I must either 
 now be saved or plunged into despair. At the close 
 Mr. Matheson took me by the hand and looked me 
 in the face, and I burst into tears. We knelt down 
 and prayed. As I was crying to God, the Lord sent 
 me deliverance. The light flashed in upon my 
 mind. Christ must be my all, and none but Christ : 
 Christ to trust, Christ to love, Christ to obey. It 
 was no mere feeling, but a clear seeing of the truth. 
 I saw that Christ received me, and that I was re- 
 ceived by God in Him. I was enabled to cast my- 
 self entirely upon Him, and receive Him as my all ; 
 and rose from my knees saying, 'Christ for me! 
 none but Christ for me ! ' Peace now possessed my 
 heart, the peace that passeth all understanding. I 
 felt as if I could not contain it. Mr. Matheson came 
 forward, and proposed singing the first verses of 
 the fortieth Psahn, ' I waited for the Lord my God,' 
 
330 Helping a Soul to Christ, 
 
 etc. I sang this with all my heart, for I knew I 
 had just been taken up out of the horrible pit and 
 miry clay, and my feet were set upon the Rock. At 
 the door a company of believers joined me, and we 
 were not afraid to awaken the echoes with songs of 
 praise. Next day I spoke to a relative about her 
 soul, and induced her to attend the meeting. This 
 issued in her conversion. Thus the Lord made me 
 instrumental on the first day of my life in Christ in 
 helping to bring a soul to Him. Would that every 
 day since that had been so successful. But amid 
 many vicissitudes of experience, and many short- 
 comings of heart and life. He has kept me till now, 
 and has never permitted me altogether to lose my 
 confidence in Jesus. I have never had a shadow 
 of regret that I chose Christ, and, if I may judge 
 from the past, I never will. And as I witnessed to 
 his name at the first, so I have, though with many 
 shortcomings, done since ; and so I trust I will be 
 enabled to do until I am called away to join in the 
 song of the redeemed on high." This young man 
 is a student and a missionary, whose labors have 
 already been blessed in the conversion of sinners in 
 three several spheres in different parts of Scotland. 
 The case of another young man, now an ordained 
 missionary to the heathen. "Reports of the work 
 of God's Spirit in America and Ireland interested 
 several of us, and we began to meet for reading and 
 prayer. I was specially struck with the earnest joy 
 that the work appeared to create in the hearts of 
 
^^TJie Broad and Narrozv Waj/" 331 
 
 those wlio shared in it; and I remember wishing it 
 should visit ourselves. Mr. Matheson visited our 
 town, and preached on 'the broad and narrow way.' 
 Some were impressed ; but I felt only the old vague 
 desire. Next time Mr. M. preached, he said, 'There 
 are some of us here that can lay our heads peace- 
 fully on our pillow to-night, in the assurance that 
 if we should next awake in eternity we should be 
 with Christ. Friend, can you?' The question was 
 for me, and went like an arrow to my soul. I felt 
 that that was what I could not do ; that I was not 
 at peace with God ; that to me to awake in eternity 
 would be to awake in hell ! The words remained 
 with me. From that time I set myself earnestly to 
 seek the one thing needful ; but as to the way of 
 finding it I was as yet quite in error. I thought 
 there was a vast amount of performance lying to 
 my hand before I could be accepted of God. Full 
 pardon seemed to lie beyond great hills and wastes, 
 which must be crossed with toilsome steps if ever I 
 was to attain it. All day in school I used to pray, 
 and when school was over I went home and prayed 
 through the afternoon. I remember one day that 
 my 'doing' received a special humiliation. A boy, 
 younger than myself, provoked me so much that 
 one of my old sinful expressions rushed out against 
 him. I was sorely pierced ; for then my case seemed 
 hopeless, and all my past endeavors were nullified. 
 Mr. M. and others had warned us solemnly against 
 entertaining any false ground of comfort ; and that 
 
332 Coming to Jesus. 
 
 I might be preserved from this was always a special 
 petition in my cries for pardon. For several weeks 
 I continued to pray and read, but no light seemed 
 to arise. One afternoon, when Mr. M. was preach- 
 ing, he came upon the expression, 'Coming to Jesus.' 
 'But,' said he, 'some of you are at a loss to know 
 what coming to Jesus means. I will explain it.' 
 My heart acknowledged its own darkest difficulty; 
 and oh, how eagerly did I listen for the explana- 
 tion ! I thought that now at length I was to learn 
 the way to be saved. But, alas! no. Seeking for 
 something to do, I did not receive the message of 
 the Gospel, that to loo\ to trusty was to live. In 
 this state of ignorant legality I continued, though 
 the Gospel of a 'present free forgiveness had been 
 often declared to me, till one afternoon, whose 
 happy date is fixed forever in my memory, I was 
 reading James's 'Anxious Inquirer,' when I came 
 upon these two precious words — 'Come unto Me,' 
 etc. (Matt. xi. 28), and, ' Believe on the Lord Jesus 
 Christ," etc. (Acts xvi. 31). Often had I read them 
 before, but never till now did I realize them. The 
 blessed Spirit in that hour testified their truth in 
 my heart, and I could not refrain from exclaiming, 
 ' And is this ready all I have to do ? is the work 
 really finished? and have I but to receive it and be 
 saved ? ' I wondered that I could have read these 
 words so stupidly before, they seemed so clear now. 
 Falling on my knees, I thanked God over and over 
 for such a Saviour and so free a salvation. With 
 
From Darkness to Light. 333 
 
 joyous impatience I ran along to the lodging of a 
 yonng man who had been one of the first awakened 
 in our company; and when I met him, I told him 
 with an overflowing heart how I saw it all now, 
 and how my heart was filled with peace. That first 
 view of Jesus in His glorious grace can never fade 
 from my recollection. Often since that afternoon 
 has my assurance been clouded; but I have always 
 found, that the only way of peace was to come again, 
 as I did then, in the character of a helpless sinner to 
 an Almighty Saviour. How deeply since that time 
 I have wronged the free love of God only Himself 
 can know ; but to the praise of His grace I must de- 
 clare, that there is all the former efiicacy in the blood 
 of Jesus to remove the consciousness of guilt. Nor 
 do I look on sin now with the same regard as once. 
 I can sincerely say, that in my most essential 
 character a complete revolution has been efiected 
 by the faith of Jesus, and that now the attainment 
 of likeness to the holy Son of God is my reigning 
 desire. How sweet is the believer's assurance that 
 the sinful heart he now bewails will soon be removed 
 forever. To serve Christ in love, that my soul de- 
 sires above all other things. To win other hearts for 
 Him, or to hear of others wirming them, is my joy 
 of joys. May the passion grow ! To Him be all the 
 glory. Amen." 
 
 One more instance must suffice; it is that of a 
 young man, now a preacher of the Gospel, and a 
 successful home missionary. "I had heard of the 
 
334 ^ M^^^ i^^ th^ Pulpit. 
 
 revival work; and being unhappy, I had serious 
 thoughts of becoming reKgious and good. I went 
 to hear Mr. Matheson. The place of meeting was 
 crowded, and I could find a seat only near the pul- 
 pit. The stranger entered. His manner at once 
 attracted and ri vetted my attention; it was alto- 
 gether so novel to me. Never till then had I seen 
 a raajn in the pulpit — only a minister. In his whole 
 bearing there was such a striking absence of all 
 stiffness and formality. His prayer touched me: 
 no introduction, no formal conclusion; it was brief, 
 pointed, direct. It was so solemn, yet so tender. 
 Hearing such correspondence with the living God 
 I was deeply solemnized. The text was Matt. vii. 
 13. He spoke of the work of grace in other places, 
 of sinners convinced, of souls saved. I was moved. 
 But when the hand was pointed towards me in the 
 first pew, when the eye was fixed on me, when the 
 appeal was made to me as to the state of my soul, 
 then the arrow, swift and sharp from the hand of 
 Jehovah, pierced my heart. I trembled. I saAv it 
 at once, suddenly, clearly — I was lost, lost, lost. 
 Inquirers were requested to remain. I meant to 
 do so, but a young man, who was unimpressed, 
 pushed me out. Another, a working man, said to 
 me, 'Are you going in?' 'Ye — es,' I replied, and 
 we went in together. Mr. M. laid his hand tenderly 
 on my shoulder and spoke to me kindly. His ten- 
 derness was too much for me ; it touched my mis- 
 erable heart. I felt that God was in righteousness 
 
Born Again. 335 
 
 against me, and that I had been in sin against God. 
 The hght that gives conviction and condemnation 
 was shining in on me. I was standing out in pain- 
 ftil nakedness and sohtariness: 1 was friendless, 
 hopeless. The first kind touch, the first kind Avord, 
 burst the floodgates of my soul. Giving vent to 
 my surcharged feelings I burst into tears. They 
 were the first I had shed for my soul. We were 
 addressed, and each received a copy of ' The Herald 
 of Mercy.' But I found no rest. Next night he 
 preached on Rev. iii. 20. Others were awakened: 
 many wept : I trembled still the more. Five weeks 
 of agonizing struggle followed. It was a long pain. 
 At one time I resolved not to rise from my knees 
 till I had obtained salvation, but my exliausted 
 body failed me. Again I vowed and vowed that 
 if God would only relieve me, I should serve Him 
 better in the future. It was a long, bitter, agoniz- 
 ing search for peace without reference to atonement 
 in Christ Jesus, during which there was now and 
 then pride of conviction and new-gotten religious- 
 ness. The grace of God through righteousness in 
 Christ began now to dawn, softly and dimly at first 
 Mr. M. returned to preach ; and the word was with 
 power. One evening the peace of God that passetb 
 all understanding filled my soul. I felt it was the 
 sunrise of an eternal day. Floods of light fell on 
 me — light stretching up, far up to the throne of God 
 — light falling down from His face upon my heart. 
 'God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all.' 
 
336 Despisers. 
 
 There was no fear, no shadow, no bondage. I was 
 intensely happy. I saw the work finished, the rec- 
 onciHation abeady made, and reahzed my own in- 
 terest in it. Eighteonsly in Jesus I entered into the 
 presence of God ; and graciously I was accepted and 
 blessed. I believed in Jesus, believed in God, saw 
 grace righteously and freely offered, and my heart 
 was full of it. Heaven lay about me. Earth afford- 
 ed no comparison. It was a glorious calm. Old 
 things had passed away. I knew I had entered the 
 kingdom; I was new-born." 
 
 The evangelist was not always a savor of life 
 unto life. Incidents of a solemn and affecting char- 
 acter occurred, two or three of which may be here 
 narrated. 
 
 One day a woman began to pour contempt on the 
 word of God, and shut her door in order that she 
 might not be disturbed by the voice of the preacher. 
 He spoke to her, and warned her; but in vain. 
 Some time afterward she took ill, and lay dying. 
 Remorse seized her, and in the agony of her spirit 
 she spoke of Matheson, and cried out, " He told me 
 that God would laugh at my calamity, and mock 
 me when my fear came; and it is all true." No 
 light came. She was a terror to all who saw her 
 die. She went into eternity in her despair. 
 
 A man of violent passions and avowed hatred to 
 godliness opposed the evangelist with much bitter- 
 ness. One day he fell a cursing of Duncan Mathe- 
 son, and died with the oath on his lips. 
 
From the Furnace to the Sea of Glass. 337 
 
 A joung woman heard him preach from the text, 
 "These shall go away into everlasting punishment." 
 Somewhat impressed at the time, she afterwards re- 
 sisted the Spirit, and returned to vanity. Death 
 came unexpectedly, and knocked at her door. She 
 was unprepared. She remembered the despite she 
 had done to the Spirit of grace, and as she died ut- 
 tered with a melancholy voice the dreadful words, 
 "These shall go away into everlasting punishment." 
 
 Such facts as these are as marginal notes written 
 by the finger of Providence on the borders of revela- 
 tion. We may not be able to interpret them. None 
 but fools will despise them. 
 
 CHAPTER .X. 
 
 FROM THE FURNACE TO THE SEA OF GLASS 
 MINGLED WITH FIRE. 
 
 «• Brief life is here our portion; 
 Brief sorrow, short-lived care; 
 The life that knows no ending, 
 The tearless life is there. 
 
 ♦♦ Oh, happy retribution ! 
 Short toil, eternal rest; 
 For mortals, and for sinners, 
 A mansion with the blest. 
 
 " And now we fight the battle, 
 But then shall wear the crown 
 Of full and everlasting 
 And passionless renown. 
 22 
 
338 Visit to St. Andrew's, 
 
 *' But He whom now we trust in 
 Shall then be seen and known; 
 And they that know and see Him 
 Shall have Him far their own." 
 
 Towards the close of 1861 Duncan Matheson found 
 himself m floods of trouble, arising from his fearless 
 stand for vital godliness and his faithful reproof of 
 lukewarm religion. Exhausted by gigantic labor-#rs, 
 he sighed for rest, yet held himself ready for new 
 fields of toil, and longed to win fresh trophies for 
 his great Master. He was persecuted, but not for- 
 saken; cast down, but not destroyed. "Come," said 
 he one day to a " companion in tribulation and in 
 the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ," "come, 
 and let us visit St. Andrew's, and see the place where 
 the old Scottish heroes fought their good fight; it 
 will stir and cheer us, and perhaps God will give us 
 of their martyr spirit." Accordingly they went and 
 saw the place where George Wishart was burned to 
 be a light to Scotland to the end of time; where 
 Knox thundered defiance to Rome, and proved him- 
 self a match for mail-clad hosts ; and where saintly 
 Rutherford, pattern- witness for the truth not less in 
 his sound teaching and masterly logic than in his 
 rapturous piety and blameless life, labored, and 
 prayed, and suffered, and fell asleep, saying, " Glory, 
 glory dwelleth in Immanuel's land." After they had 
 visited every spot of historic interest, they laid them- 
 selves down on the grave of Rutherford, and all alone 
 with their faces on the dust they wept and prayed, 
 
Rutherford's Grave. 339 
 
 praising God for all He has done for Scotland, and 
 entreating for their dear country with many suppli- 
 cations, and tears, another and a complete reforma- 
 tion in tlie awakening of the churches, and the con- 
 version of all the people in the land. Here too, with 
 the tears dropping from their eyes upon the grass, 
 they consecrated themselves anew to the service and 
 glory of God their Saviour, begging with heart- 
 breaking earnestness for grace to be faithful even 
 unto death. Here too they sang praise. The words 
 of the psalm were joyfully recalled — 
 
 "For sure the Lord will not cast off 
 
 Those that his people be, 
 Neither his own inheritance 
 
 Quit and forsake will he : 
 But judgment unto righteousness 
 
 Shall yet return again, 
 And all shall follow after it 
 
 That are right-hearted men." 
 
 As they sang "Eock of ages, cleft for me," they 
 realized at once their security in the great Cove- 
 nant-Head, and their oneness with redeemed men 
 of every age: and on the spot where saints and 
 martyrs repose so calmly they could sing, "There 
 is rest for the weary" Avith unwonted joy. Thus 
 they were strengthened for the sore toil and travail 
 that still awaited them. 
 
 Some may feel disposed to set this down as sen- 
 timentalism. But if fellowship with God and with 
 his saints be sentimentalism, if sympathy with Christ 
 
340 Scottish CJiristianity. 
 
 in his blood-baptized cause, and with those that 
 suffered for the love they bore Him be sentimental- 
 fism, if prayers and tears for a lost world that still 
 goeth on in its mad way of cursing and casting 
 out its best friends be sentimentalism, then I say, 
 Heaven send us more of it. Scotchmen are said to 
 have hard heads: but triply hard is the heart of 
 that Scotchman who can drink at the springs of 
 his country's greatness and not be filled as with new 
 wine. The ashes of the martyrs never grow cold ; 
 and dull must the Christian spirit be that is not 
 fired with new zeal at the sight of those hallowed 
 spots whence flamed up to heaven and far out upon 
 the world's night Scotland's testimony to Christ, 
 which is our country's truest glory. Happily the 
 echoes of that testimony linger about ten thousand 
 hearths, and come back with strange power on ten 
 times ten thousand hearts; nor will the sweetly 
 solemn reverberations of those martyr-voices die till 
 they merge in the sounds of the last trump. 
 
 This incident marked an epoch in the life of our 
 evangelist. Scottish Christianity has been charac- 
 terized by the pre-eminently high and holy place 
 assigned by it to the crown rights of the Lord Jesus 
 as the Church's sole Head and King. Duncan 
 Matheson was thoroughly of that spirit. His mar- 
 tial, loyal, heroic nature must needs love, serve, 
 fight, and suffer for a King. Fondly and unceas- 
 ingly as he preached the atonement of Jesus, and 
 thus recognized the Priest and the one great Sacri- 
 
*'/ Am Going to See the Kingr 341 
 
 fice for sin, the chief enthusiasm of his personal 
 devotion to the Lord, in all the labor and turmoil 
 of his life, seemed to take rise scarcely so much in 
 the love he bore his Saviour as in the passionate 
 loyalty he felt for his King. And this noble affec- 
 tion grew more and more intense to the end of his 
 life: it was still to the last, "the King! the King!" 
 When the last campaign was over, and the end drew 
 near, one of his frequent utterances was, " I am going 
 to see the King." 
 
 After that last and fullest consecration of himself 
 to God at the grave of Samuel Eutherford, a remark- 
 able change was noticed in him by his more inti- 
 mate friends. His faith now took a higher flight. 
 Henceforth he spoke everywhere and always of 
 "going home." "0 how near eternity seems," he 
 was ever saying: "We'll soon be home." "That 
 man breathes the very atmosphere of heaven," said 
 some who met him. When a young man he had 
 a presentiment that he would not live long : middle 
 life, he said, would see his sun set. The hope of the 
 Gospel now taught him to think of the sun rising in 
 another sphere rather than of its setting in this. 
 " Heaven will literally be a rest to me," was his fre- 
 quent saying. In consequence of his incessant, 
 fatiguing, and often most painful labors, his mind 
 naturally enough contemplated heaven as a rest. 
 All the spiritual songs of the coming glory c/ere 
 now peculiarly sweet to his heart. But the if eling 
 did not evaporate in mere singing or in thr indul 
 
342 An Unbroken Day of Toil. 
 
 gence of pleasant thoughts. It was in him, as all 
 his beliefs were, a most powerful motive to work 
 for Christ and win souls. "You are hurting your- 
 self," we said to him. "Souls are perishing," was 
 his invariable reply. "But you should take rest." 
 " Nonsense ! we'll rest in heaven." Some may think 
 he carried this too far : but he had no idea of what 
 is called "settling in life." A mighty power was 
 working in him. How could he rest? His soul was 
 in the agonies of travail. And till disease struck 
 liim down the years that elapsed were one unbroken 
 day of toil for the saving of the lost. 
 
 Towards the close of his more active life, although 
 he did not abate one jot of his manly frankness, his 
 uncompromising faithfulness, and his fearless testi- 
 mony, a mellowing influence was clearly at work in 
 him. His prayers grew more childlike and tender ; 
 his addresses, whilst not less searching and faithful, 
 were more deeply solemn, and more tearfully com- 
 passionate ; and the big heart of the man, like an 
 overflowing well, gushed out in streams of genuine 
 kindness and Christian love. 
 
 Little did we imagine, when he stood up on a 
 gloomy November night in 1866, in Hjlltown Fr^e 
 Church, where his voice had often been accompa- 
 nied with more than human power, that we were 
 listening to his last addi'ess in Dundee. His text 
 was " Remember Lot's wife." Lot's wife, he said — 
 I here' give not his words, but the spirit of them — 
 Lot's wife had many privileges, but she perished. 
 
His Last Address in Dundee. 343 
 
 Lot's wife had a godly hiisband, but she perished. 
 Lot's wife had often been prayed for, but she per- 
 ished. Lot's wife had a good example set her, but 
 she perished. Lot's wife had been warned by God, 
 but she perished. Lot's wife saw her danger, but 
 she perished. Lot's wife was led by angels out of 
 Sodom, but she perished. Lot's wife was nearly 
 saved, but she perished. Lot's wife only looked 
 round, and she was damned for that look. She 
 lingered when she should have made haste, and 
 God left her. Mercy drew her, but she grieved 
 Mercy, and Mercy forsook her. Where IMercy left 
 her, Justice found her, and Destruction seized her. 
 She loved Sodom, and would love Sodom, and God 
 gave her her bad love to the full. The Lord took 
 her out of Sodom, but she took Sodom out of Sodom 
 with her. "Let me get a last look at my idol," 
 she said ; and she got a Icisi look with a vengeance. 
 " She is joined to her idols," said the jealous God: 
 "Let her alone;" and she was let terribly alone: 
 she became a pillar of salt. Sodom was more to her 
 than her daughters, her husband, her soul, or God. 
 In judgment she was wedded to her evil choice: 
 she entered eternity in fellowship with those that 
 suffer the vengeance of eternal fire. 
 
 Ah, friends, you see how near being saved you 
 may be, and yet never know salvation. Privileges 
 and means of grace may be yours, and yet you may 
 never enter heaven. You may sit at the Lord's table 
 and sing of salvation, and after all be cast away. 
 
344 Zd?/'j Wi/e. 
 
 You may feel the strivings of the Spirit, and yet be 
 lost. You may break off from some sins and do 
 many things, and in the end go down to destruc- 
 tion. You may be all but saved, and at last find 
 that from the very gate of heaven there is a path 
 to hell. Anxious inquirer, you are out of Sodom, 
 but not out of danger ; you are on the plain, but 
 not in the place of refuge. Flee to Christ. Es- 
 cape for thy. life. Backslider, you are just where 
 Lot's wife was when the devouring fire overtook 
 her. She was looking back; so are you. Remem- 
 ber Lot's wife. " If any man draw back, my soul 
 shall have no pleasure in him " (Heb. x. 38). Pro- 
 crastinator, you are trifling with your soul and 
 with God. There is no fear of judgment, you think. 
 How do you know? The sin of Lot's wife is your 
 sin: take heed lest her fate be yours. You may 
 die to-night: what then? And if you live, God 
 may give you your own way and let you alone. 
 Let alone, left behind by the merciful God ! To be 
 fixed in sin, to be a pillar of salt, a soul encrusted 
 with judicial hardness, as good as damned, how 
 terrible ! 
 
 " There is a time, we know not when, 
 A point we know not where, 
 That marks the destiny of men 
 To glory or despair. 
 
 " There is a line by us unseen,' 
 That crosses every path ; 
 The hidden boundary between 
 God's patience and his wrath." 
 
Preaching at the Fair. 345 
 
 With heart, voice, and eye overflowing with 
 tenderness, he plead with his hearers to flee to the 
 refuge — to Jesus. The people were deeply moved, 
 and some of them, among the rest a man who is 
 now a zealous office-bearer in a church, have a 
 blessed remembrance of that night, as the time 
 when they entered the ark and for them God shut 
 the door of covenant security in Christ. 
 
 In the same month, November, he went to the 
 feeing markets in Aberdeenshire. At Ellon his 
 sufferings were such as he never recovered from. 
 Here, drenched with ceaseless showers, and shiver- 
 ing in fierce hail-blasts of no ordinary violence, he 
 stood all day in the mud, and delivered his last 
 testimony for Christ amidst the din and strife of 
 the fair. " We must not lower the standard," said 
 he, in reference to his trying work. Nor did he 
 lower the standard, for the standard-bearer fell in 
 the very front of the battle. On returning south 
 he revisited Kirriemuir, Alyth, and other places, 
 spending the last night of the year with the Chris- 
 tians in Forfar, whence he writes to his wife : 
 
 "Forfar, January 1st, 1867. A happy New Year 
 to you, my dearest M. The Lord bless you very 
 abundantly. As the clock struck the knell of the 
 departing year I was praying for you. My heart 
 was with you all. Ah, my beloved, we may sing, 
 sweetly sing. The Lord hath done great things 
 for us. We may raise our Ebenezer. Now we 
 know not what may be before us this year; but 
 
346 His Failing Health. 
 
 never mind, all will be well. The Lord will break 
 up our way. He will lead us aright. He is our 
 own God. Give each of our pets a New Year kiss 
 from father. I may be able to come and give it 
 myself to them to-morrow. If I am with you by 
 11 A.M. you will see me; and if not, it will be be- 
 cause of the work. I will try at any rate, but 
 must return at night. We had a blessed time last 
 night. We met at nine, and separated at half-past 
 twelve o'clock. It was very, very solemn. I took 
 the superintendence of the meeting. Very seldom 
 have I seen such a meeting — so much power and 
 evident blessing. A great cryjbr help comes from 
 many places. I do trust that 1867 will be a year 
 of greater blessing than any before it." 
 
 About the middle of January he set out for Ork- 
 ney ; but in consequence of a severe snow-storm, it 
 was only after making extraordinary efforts that he 
 was enabled to reach Aberdeen. There he was 
 arrested by the disease, diabetes, which ultimately 
 carried him to the grave. With the sentence of 
 death in him he returned to- Perth, and thence 
 without delay went up to Edinburgh, where he 
 sought advice from the late eminent physician. Sir 
 James Simpson. Little hope of recovery was held 
 out to him ; nevertheless, the ruling passion stirred 
 in him, and he addressed a meeting, ill as he was, 
 in the house of Mr. Barbour. On returning home 
 he suddenly grew worse, and in his fevered condi- 
 tion fell into unconsciousness. But whilst reason 
 
At Limpley Stoke. * 347 
 
 slept, the gracious heart was all awake, and his 
 talk was constantly of Jesus and souls and eternity. 
 Fancying that he was addressing the students of 
 the New College, Edinburgh, he cried out, "Young 
 men, young men, down with books and up with 
 Christ! Souls are perishing! souls are perishing! 
 Up, and aim at saving sinners." Noble spirit, in 
 thy very wanderings wise and good ! 
 
 On recovering a measure of strength, he went in 
 April to Limpley Stoke, near Bath, where he sought 
 rest and restoration in the hydropathic establish- 
 ment. A few of his letters will be read with interest : 
 
 "Limpley Stoke, near Bath, 13th April, 1867. 
 "My Dear Mrs. B , I cannot tell you how glad- 
 dened I was by your kind letter. Away from home, 
 among strangers, sick, one likes to see old friends 
 have not forgotten them. I knew neither you nor 
 Mr. B. would, nor many of the flock to whom I 
 have so often spoken, and to whom if it please God, 
 I hope to speak again — though not this Whit-Sun- 
 day — after Turriff market. Markets, I fear, if I 
 should be spared, must be left now to others. My 
 day, I fear, is done with them, and with much 
 rough work besides. It has been a trying time. 
 I cannot tell you all I have passed through for 
 three months, nor recount to you the loving kind- 
 ness of our God. Oh, how good He has been! 
 How tenderly He has watched over me! How 
 bounteously He has provided for me ! I have been 
 
348 ^'Even so, Father^ 
 
 treading the banks of the river, and Hstening to its 
 flow as it rolled along, but all has been peace with- 
 in. All has been calm, unruffled. I have had no 
 fears, and at the worst was helped to say, "Even 
 so. Father," etc. 
 
 " A greater trial than even leaving my beloved 
 wife penniless on a cold world, and children loved 
 with tenderest affection, was the thought of leaving 
 the loved work of bringing souls to Jesus. Away 
 from it — dumb, one sees its greatness, and heaven, 
 hell, God, salvation, eternity, stand out as great 
 realities. I had long battled with the storm, long 
 tried to do something on the field, and God saw fit 
 to put His hand on me even when success in His 
 work was at its highest. We shall know all one 
 day; the web is rapidly weaving, and in glory its 
 finish will be bright, shining in perfect holiness. 
 Hallelujah! I have been six weeks from home. 
 
 How wondrous the Lord's raising up Mr. J 
 
 M , of London, to keep me here. He has been 
 
 as a brother, and I lack nothing, as he is paying all 
 costs. There was no hope of my getting better at 
 home, and I can say it has been good to be here. I 
 cannot tell you exactly how I am. My general 
 health is better, but as yet the disease is apparently 
 not touched. It is greatly kept under, and I am not 
 without hope, in answer to much prayer offered and 
 ofi'ering up, I may be so far cured as to be able to 
 preach. It is a strange, mysterious disease, but the 
 Lord can heal it. I am not allowed to preach, read, 
 
In a Nezv School. 349 
 
 or write, though I cannot refrain from sending this 
 to you. To-day I feel strong. To-morrow I may 
 be weak. I often think of you all, and am with 
 you in spirit. May the dew of heaven be on your 
 beloved husband and his flock. It is a dying scene. 
 All around this death reigns. Poor, poor England ! 
 Highly favored Scotland ! If I could preach I would. 
 Revival all around this is unknown. ]\Iy wife left 
 
 three days ago for home, going to see Miss M 
 
 on her way. Amidst all her watching, etc., she 
 has been greatly supported. Give my love to Mr. 
 
 B , Miss F , and all friends. Pray for me. 
 
 I do hope there is room to encourage faith in my 
 better condition for the last week. I commend you 
 to the Lord. It is long since we met, going to Aber- 
 deen in the ' Defiance ' coach. How many are gone 
 since ! We too shall soon go. Blessed be the Lord, 
 it is home. There is sweet rest in heaven. God 
 bless you. 
 
 " Yours in Jesus, Duncan Matheson." 
 
 TO MRS. J. s. 
 
 " Limpley Stoke, near Bath, 18th April, 1867. 
 
 " My Dear Friend : Many, many a time I think of 
 
 you and of all the S s of that Ilk. You are often 
 
 very near my heart, and the prayer for blessing on 
 each has often gone up from me here where I am 
 living, at the back of Horeb. 
 
 " Like an old hulk disabled, I lie passive — no easy 
 thing for a restless Bedouin like me. I am in a new 
 
350 The Banks of the Dark River. 
 
 school, and if I learn my lessons well I may be able 
 yet to comfort many and give them a lift Zionward. 
 Eutherford says : ' Oh, how much I owe to the file 
 and hammer of the dear Lord Jesus ! ' Can we not 
 say the same ? 
 
 " Tenderly, lovingly, and in a fatherly way, has 
 the Lord dealt with me. How gently He has held 
 the cup to my lips ! How much of mercy (yea, it's 
 all mercy) has been mingled with my lot ! I have 
 been standing by the banks of the dark river, and 
 have listened to its flow, and yet have not been 
 afraid. I have been on the verge of eternity, and 
 could sing for joy. Ah, there is no god hke our God ! 
 no rock like our Rock ! 
 
 " Right glad was I to meet Mrs. C on my way 
 
 here. I could scarcely credit it. Short as my inter- 
 view was, it sent me along more cheerfully. My 
 heart was much set on coming to see you all; but 
 the Lord arranged diflerently. . . It is a strange 
 and fickle disease, and if I should be ever again as 
 before, it will be a special forth-putting of divine 
 power. I long for the loved work of bringing souls 
 to Jesus. I long to be on the battle-field. I long to 
 sing over the slain of the Lord, and shout ' victory ' 
 because He has done it. Sometimes I hope I shall. 
 All is in his hands. The sheep in the wilderness I 
 feel for. The lambs' bleating goes to my heart. I 
 pity the lost. It is only at times we can realize sin, 
 salvation, heaven, hell, eternity, as great realities. 
 How soon shall all have passed here \ Life ought to 
 
Longing for the Children, 351 
 
 be an earnest matter, seeing we have only one. . . 
 And now I must close. May all blessing rest on 
 you and yours. We are under the shadow of His 
 wings. We are safe in His arms. We move along 
 the rugged pathway to that land where no sigh is 
 heard nor sorrow known, where not a cloud darkens 
 the sky. Ah, we shall soon know about the palms, 
 harps, crowns of glory ! Forever ivith the Lord ! 
 Once again I pray for blessings on you all. 
 
 " Ever yours in a loving Lord, 
 
 "Duncan Matheson." 
 
 TO HIS WIFE. 
 
 "Limpley Stoke, May 13th. 
 "Another morning dawned, my beloved M- 
 
 and another week begun. How they do glide away ! 
 How quickly they run! Soon all will be done, all 
 will end. The vast eternity lies before. Many in 
 heaven ! many in hell ! No day there ! no star of 
 hope! no rest! no rest! no rest! Saved from hell, 
 we should sing all the way. We should never mur- 
 mur. Ah, how the thought should still be, ' I shall 
 never be in devouring fire ! I shall never lie down 
 in everlasting burnings ! ' As the song of heaven 
 shall never end, neither shall the wail of hell. May 
 the Lord save our children ! I long to see them in 
 the ark. They will be brought. Don't let us ever 
 doubt it for a moment. We had a blessed day yes- 
 terday — a sweet word from Mr. T . . The Lord 
 
352 In Jersey. 
 
 can restore me fully; but patience must have her 
 perfect work." 
 
 "Limpley Stoke, May 15th. 
 "How few realize the solemnity of eternity! I 
 feel for the people. They are dying, perishing, 
 going to destruction ! Oh that God in infinite love 
 would save! I long to be in the field again, but 
 must possess my soul in patience. I am glad I do 
 feel as I do. It's joy to be able to do some little 
 work for God. I cannot express it. My whole sys- 
 tem feels as if it partook of joy. If not able to 
 preach, I may for some time be able to get tracts 
 ready, and many things. I hope Lizzie is getting 
 on with her spelling and reading. She will try and 
 be able to read to me the 90th Psalm when I 
 come home. How I do long to see them (the chil- 
 dren), and yet the Lord keeps my mind at rest. It 
 has been all love." 
 
 Leaving Limpley Stoke in May, he went to Jer- 
 sey. He is charmed with the scenery, praises God 
 for all he beholds of the divine glory on land and 
 sea, and often wishes his wife were by his side to 
 share his delight. "But we shall see grander 
 sights," he adds: "we shall see the King in His 
 beauty, and the land that is afar off." But the sce- 
 nery is not the great thing ; it is the souls of the 
 perishing. In a certain town he sees the walls cov- 
 ered with placards announcing that Dean this and 
 
In Nonnandy. 353 
 
 Eev. that will lectm-e on Shakespeare, etc., and his 
 heart bleeds. 
 
 From Jersey he proceeds to St. Sei^an, in Nor- 
 mandy; but the disease has fastened on him, and 
 will not let him go. Not a breath of murmur 
 escapes his lips. He is full of comfort, and often 
 writes to cheer the beloved partner of his life, whose 
 heart droops on his account. Often he breaks out 
 in praise. " Oh praise the Lord, my soul. How 
 wondrous His love ! At times it quite overpowers 
 me. Oh for grace, grace to love His Holy Name ! 
 
 When I think of others I am humbled. Poor 
 
 and his family several times last winter had only 
 meal in the house. He told me so. Oh, how good 
 the Lord is!" 
 
 TO MRS. J. S. 
 
 "St. Servan, Normandy, France, 27th May, 1867. 
 
 "My Dear Christian Friend: Your kind letter 
 reached me at Limpley Stoke I con- 
 gratulate you on the bii-th of another son. The Lord 
 bless him, and early implant grace, that, if spared, 
 he may be a great blessing. We can take our chil- 
 dren to Jesus and not be rejected. They are dear 
 to Him. I like to grasp the promise, 'To thee and 
 to thy seed.' Our charge, our responsibility, is 
 great; but the great burden-bearer will take all. 
 Oh, how He loves ! The height, depth, breadth, we 
 cannot fathom. The length we may have some dim 
 idea of, but cannot understand. 
 23 
 
354 Alone in a Strange Land. 
 
 "I left Limpley some time ago better of my so- 
 journ there. I do feel stronger, but the disease still 
 remains. It seems to have got firmly intrenched; 
 but the Lord can remove it, and no one else. The 
 more I see of doctors, the more do I see they know 
 little of it. As yet its seat is a mystery. Some 
 days I think it is almost gone ; and next day I feel 
 great weakness. But all is in a Father's hand, and 
 such a Father too 1 I would not it were otherwise 
 than He chooses. 
 
 " I long to get home, and may in course of a fort- 
 night. My dear wife and children I have not seen 
 for long now. They are well. She longs to meet 
 you all. We shall see if it can be arranged her 
 meeting me at Edinburgh, and both coming on. 
 We shall see as the Lord directs. 
 
 "I am all alone in this strange land, unknown to 
 any, and knowing no one. Poor, poor France ! You 
 can have no idea of the perfect despotism that reigns. 
 No happy smile seems to light up the people's coun- 
 tenances. There is a restlessness and a yearning 
 after something — they know not what. Alas, alas ! 
 no Gospel is preached, no salvation made known, 
 and, so far as can be seen, no souls saved. I often 
 almost weep as I see the masses here rushing on to 
 eternity, not knowing that ' God so loved the world, 
 that He gave his only-begotten Son.' God will not 
 forget the prayers of many a martyred Huguenot. 
 The soil of France was drenched with their blood. 
 The cry, 'How long, Lord, how long,' has gone up 
 
ChateaubriancT s Grave. 355 
 
 from those beneath the altar. Many a time on en- 
 tering the churches here, and seeing the mummery 
 on every side, have I prayed, ' Lord, send thy Hght 
 forth and thy truth ;' and often have I blessed God 
 Scotland had a Knox, a Cameron, a Cargill, and a 
 Peden. 
 
 " I was looking to-day at the grave of the great 
 Chateaubriand, who is buried on a small island off 
 this place, and asking what now is all the glory he 
 had? All has perished. Only shall the righteous 
 be had in everlasting remembrance. Ah ! my be- 
 loved friend, ours is a glorious hope, ours is a great 
 reward. ^\niat things are in the light of eternity, 
 and that alone, is worth, and ought to be looked at. 
 To live for Christ, our motto noAV, To be with Him 
 — what shall it be? I do long to go forth again. 
 Had I been in health, I would have been speaking 
 to masses with God's blue sky overhead and his 
 presence realized. Open-air preaching is glorious, 
 though hard work. I hear from Kirriemuir and For- 
 far that the converts go well on. Cullen still retains 
 the blessing. I long to hear of Melrose and Little 
 Darnick. It will come. Let faith be strengthened. 
 What God is doing in other places. He can do with 
 
 you. My kindest love to your beloved J , to 
 
 Mrs. C , and all the S s. Kindly omit no 
 
 one. To Mr. and Mrs. B and A , etc., etc. 
 
 Now I must finish, as I have a good deal to do. I 
 send you Psalm cxxi. 6 and Deut. xxxii. 9. We 
 are marching home. Every march shall yet become 
 
356 Return to Scotland. 
 
 an Elim. He will take the stumbling-blocks out of 
 the way. He will lead and guide. His everlasting 
 arms are around and underneath. He keeps us as 
 the apple of his eye. Hold ! is it not enough ? 
 "Ever yours in Christ Jesus, 
 
 "Duncan Matheson." 
 
 In July he returned to Scotland, and for a while 
 stayed at Bervie, where he set up a daily prayer- 
 meeting. From Bervie he went to Braemar, and 
 from Braemar to Aberdeen, still seeking to recover 
 health and win souls. Health was denied him ; souls 
 were given him. From Aberdeen he went to Duff- 
 town, which had been much laid on his heart in 
 prayer. The weak man was strong to bear this 
 burden before the Lord. His prayers were marvel- 
 lously answered. Here God began to work by him, 
 and several were added to the Lord. At a social 
 meeting held on the evening of the first day of the 
 following year, he delivered an address of extraor- 
 dinary power, and a considerable number were con- 
 verted. From Dufftown he retraced his steps to 
 Aberdeen. 
 
 His soul is on fire. "I would gladly give all 1 
 have," he writes to his wife, "to be once more out 
 preaching Jesus. It is a great and glorious work. 
 I bless God I was called to it. The work done is 
 done for eternity. All other things will soon end. 
 . . . Tell Lizzie I long to hear of her becoming 
 a child of God, a lamb in Christ's fold. Tell her I 
 
At Darnlee. 357 
 
 long very much. Tell Duncan I wish him to cleave 
 to Jesus. Tell Mary I long to know she has a new 
 heart. Tell them I wish them all to be in heaven 
 with us to praise forever. I feel being away from 
 them, but it is the Lord, and all is well." 
 
 In the beginning of 1868 he went to reside for a 
 few weeks with his Christian friends at Darnlee, in 
 the south of Scotland. Here again the fire burned. 
 He could not rest. Gathering together the people 
 of Darnick, a village in the neighborhood, he in- 
 dulged once more in the luxury of preaching Christ. 
 Immediately there was a sound and a stir among 
 the dry bones. The Spirit of God began to work 
 gloriously among the dead. The movement, though 
 confined within the narrow limits of the village and 
 adjacent country, was a remarkable one: men and 
 women were brought to the Lord. Happening to 
 meet him at this time, I asked how he, who was 
 suffering from a terrible malady, could do so much 
 work. His reply was characteristic. "Ah!" said 
 he, "the Lord saw that I was very weak, and just 
 worked all the more Himself" 
 
 In spring he went to Carlsbad, Bohemia, for the 
 benefit of the waters. On his way to the Continent 
 he writes from Tmibridge Wells to Miss M : 
 
 " My Dear Friend : Mary has sent me your note 
 here. I left Perth about ten days ago, and have 
 been in Hampshire and London. I went to see Ma- 
 jor Gibson. He is very ill. I am here for a few 
 days in a palace. The proprietor, Mr. E , is a 
 
358 ''Keptr 
 
 man of God. I scarcely ever was in a house like it. 
 ' Holiness unto the Lord ' is stamped upon it. I am 
 going to Carlsbad in Austria on Tuesday (d. v.). 
 The doctors have ordered a trial of its baths, and 
 God has sent plenty of money to take me. It is a 
 strange, wandering life, in quest of health. Yet all 
 is well. I have been rather worse lately. The dis- 
 ease has been very active. All is in the Lord's hands. 
 I feel leaving all at home. I shall be away about 
 five weeks. Pray for me that I may be useful, and 
 if the Lord sees fit, get health for his work. I do 
 desire greatly to see you. I long for it. Had I not 
 been going to the Continent I would have come at 
 once. AU^ all, ALL is love. God can do nothing 
 amiss. All but Mary Jane are well at Perth. We 
 are kindly treated. We have all things richly to 
 enjoy. You would wonder what the Lord does for 
 us. If I come back by London I may get to see 
 you. Will you not be with us this summer? What 
 a welcome you will get! I must close, as I have a 
 good deal to do. There are many changes, but Je- 
 sus lives and Jesus reigns. We shall soon be home. 
 It is a sweet prospect — Home ! 
 
 " A dear saint of God when dying asked them to 
 put his simple name on his tombstone, and ''Ize^V 
 under it. We may do the same. 
 
 'Duncan Matheson. 
 Born, . Died, . 
 
In Bohemia. 359 
 
 J McP . 
 
 Born, . Died, . 
 
 "In Jesus, yours, "Duncan Matheson." 
 
 In Carlsbad he found means of distributing some 
 600 copies of the Word of God. Unable to speak 
 the language, he would turn up his favorite text, 
 "God so loved the world," etc., and by gestures and 
 the use of such terms as he could command he man- 
 aged to introduce himself and the Gospel to a good 
 many of the people. By and by they began to know 
 him, and hail him as a friend. Here he made the 
 acquaintance of a German Christian, who had charge 
 of the Bible Depot. An attempt being made by the 
 burgomaster, instigated by the priest, to stop the 
 Bible selling and distribution, and the agent being 
 ordered to leave the house, with the view to his be- 
 ing thrust out of the place altogether, our evange- 
 list took up the case, wrote to a friend in London, 
 through whose instrumentality the priest's design 
 was foiled, and the Bible distribution went on as 
 before. Still panting to be useful, Mr. Matheson 
 undertook to give instruction to the two Jewish 
 girls who attended him in his lodgings. His own 
 clildren were never forgotten. In all his labors and 
 wanderings he found time to write little letters to 
 them. Out of a heap let us take one very much of 
 a piece with the rest : 
 
360 Letter to His DaiigJiter Lizzie. 
 
 TO HIS LITTLE DAUGHTER LIZZIE. 
 
 " Carlsbad, 4tli May, 1868. 
 
 " My own Deak Lizzie : I often tliink of you, for I 
 love you very much. I often pray for you, for I 
 long to see you safe in Jesus' fold. Many a time 
 when wandering alone in the woods here, I wonder 
 what you are doing, and what kind of a scholar you 
 are getting. You must get on very fast at school, 
 as likely you will one day have to earn your bread 
 through the education you have got. I expect great 
 progress before I return. This is a very beautiful 
 country. The town of Carlsbad is very pleasant, 
 built on both sides of a little river about the size of 
 Bogie at Huntly. The boys and girls are very much 
 like what they are in Perth. I see some with knick- 
 erbockers like Duncan's. They have balls, and mar- 
 bles, and hoops, as the children have in Scotland. 
 But alas ! dear Lizzie, they hear not about Jesus as 
 you do. I give some of them copies of the Gospel of 
 John, and if you saw how pleased they are ! Some 
 of them begin to know me now, and as I pass smile 
 and take my hand. I love all children ; Jesus did 
 so very much. I gave a man a copy of the Gospel, 
 and, poor fellow, he was so grateful, he asked me to 
 come at night and get wine and coffee from him. 
 
 "There are a good few Jewish boys and girls here. 
 I feel deeply for them. They hate the very name 
 of Jesus. Oh, my own Lizzie, if you were really con- 
 verted you would pray for them. We should love 
 the Jews. We got the Bible through the Jews, and 
 
''Rest is a Szveet Word'' 361 
 
 Jesus was born a Jew. Once He was a little boy, 
 running about the streets of Nazareth. 
 
 " Would it not be grand if God would send me 
 back to Perth to you all healed? Would I not, 
 as Duncan says, pack up my things, and be off to 
 preach ? The waters are very nice, boiling up from 
 the earth. One is very great. I am up every morn- 
 ing long before you now. You must write me a 
 long letter some day. I will try to send a letter to 
 Duncan, and Mary, and George soon. Will you, 
 dear Lizzie, take Jesus to be your Saviour? Oh, 
 do ! It would give mother and me more joy than 
 any thing in the world would. 
 
 "Your own dear father, 
 
 "Duncan Matheson." 
 
 TO MISS G. 
 
 " Carlsbad, Bohemia, 11th May, 1868. 
 " My dear Miss G : How are you all, and es- 
 pecially your dear mother? I do hope you are all 
 well. The larks will be singing sweetly now in 
 
 S , and I hope the time of the singing of birds 
 
 (spiritual) has also come. Thank God for droppings 
 on the parched ground. Thank God for saved ones. 
 The little one shall soon, I trust, become a thousand, 
 and many a sweet flower be planted among your 
 hills that shall bloom and blossom up yonder where 
 the weary rest. Rest is a sweet word. Even a child 
 knows its meaning. My third child Mary is very 
 delicate. One day she came in tu^ed, and in her 
 
362 Sunday in Carlsbad. 
 
 artless way said, 'Mother, will tliere be chairs in 
 heaven to sit down on?' Oh, yes, there will be 
 thrones, and crowns, and palms. How we shall 
 make the courts re-echo with the sweet name of 
 Jesus I How we shall shout Hallelujah! Hallelu- 
 jah! You see, I am far from home in a land of 
 strangers, I know no one. All the time I have 
 been here, I have been the only Englishman. I 
 have met only one Christian, a German Protestant. 
 It is a dark, dark land. No Sabbath here. It is the 
 chief market day. The theatre is open, and almost 
 every shop. The priests have it all their own way. 
 
 I wish Mr. M and others were here one day. 
 
 After that they would cease tearing the lambs, and 
 speaking against revival. What a terrible doom 
 theirs will be that go to hell from Scotland ! Tell 
 
 W to flee for his very life. Were he here he 
 
 would have no one to tell him. I love W , and 
 
 my heart wanders at times from this earthly para- 
 dise to the bleak strath. I long to hear glorious 
 
 tidings from it. I hope M , ' Greatheart,' has 
 
 visited you again. God bless him, and give him 
 mighty strength. I was very poorly when I left 
 Scotland. I am drinking the mineral waters, and 
 taking the baths. Thank God, I am feeling a good 
 deal better, but as to whether it may touch the root 
 of the disease remains to be seen. Pray for me. 
 Tell your dear mother to ask healing for the work's 
 sake, if the Lord sees fit. I hope to leave this in 
 three weeks, and may come home by Switzerland. 
 
Distribution of Six Hundred Bibles. 363 
 
 I enclose this in a letter to Mr. Matheson, London. 
 He will post it for you. 
 
 "I feel it sweet to lean on Jesus here. I can 
 speak to Him though I can to no one else. He 
 heareth j^rayer. My church is the woods alone on 
 the Sabbath day. I have no one to go to. The 
 Lord bless you all. I would like to see you once 
 more. What if my sun is to set at noon? Yet 
 I long to preach Jesus. He must reign. He shall 
 reign. We shall soon see Him as He is. We shall 
 be like Him. 
 
 " Ever yours in Him, 
 
 "Duncan Matheson." 
 
 The following letter appeared in Tim Bevival: 
 
 "My dear Brother: I am about to leave this land, 
 and I am sorry to do so. Circumstances, however, 
 compel me ; and if my work is done in it, I would 
 joyfully say, ' Thy will be done.' 
 
 " Since my last, a great door has been opened 
 for the dissemination of the Word of life. I have 
 bought at full price from the Bible Society nearly 
 600 copies, and scattered them abroad. My main 
 efforts have been directed to the peasantry, as the 
 most hopeful and most needy field. The poverty 
 of many of them is such that they cannot purchase 
 a Bible, and they need it to be brought to their very 
 homes. 
 
 " Many a weary mile I have walked, and many 
 a scorching sun has shone upon me. Day after day 
 
364 ''No Light r 
 
 I have waited on the highway, some distance from 
 the town, and, accosting the travellers passing 
 along, have made all who could read John iii. 16. 
 I felt God could make one text as effectual as 
 a thousand; and especially that one on which so 
 many have rested their all for eternity. It has 
 undoubtedly been the most interesting work in 
 which I was ever engaged. Many had never seen 
 the Book; and many even did not know its name. 
 This is true of hundreds of thousands, if not millions, 
 in the Austrian empire. 
 
 " One day, shortly after my arrival, I gave a copy 
 of John's Gospel to an old man. He took it to his 
 home. In a few days he came to the depot and 
 bought a Bible. Time after time he has come for 
 copies for his neighbors, and now he has become a 
 self-appointed colporteur. Last week the police in- 
 terfered with him, but he has since got a regular 
 license from a magistrate, and from love to the 
 truth pursues his calling. 
 
 " I have had a fine opening amongst the soldiers 
 here in hospital, some of whom had been in Mexico 
 with the unhappy Maximilian. One poor fellow, 
 who has lost his eyesight, asked his comrades what 
 I was doing. On telling him, he said, with a voice 
 choked with emotion as he pointed to his sightless 
 eyeballs, ' No light, no light.' 
 
 " One day I came upon an old man sitting by the 
 wayside reading a copy I had given. He smiled 
 on seeing me; and, pointing to heaven, and then 
 
The Bible in Austria. 365 
 
 to John xiv. 2, repeated with much emphasis, ' In 
 my Father's house are many mansions,' and added, 
 'Yes, and one for me.' 
 
 "It is work needing the greatest caution; for 
 there is the greatest danger of over-driving and 
 attracting notice. One false step might injure for 
 long to come, as, though there is a measure of lib- 
 erty, yet the priestly power is very great. The 
 work will go rolling along, but not so fast as we 
 may anticipate, or would from our hearts desire. 
 
 " To get one Bible into Austria almost baffled me 
 when in the East; and now the Bible Society have 
 an unlimited field, a field the extent of which no 
 one can conceive. Fourteen years ago, 50,000 copies 
 of the Word were sent across the Austrian fi'ontier 
 guarded by dragoons. Now they have returned, 
 and a thousand times more will follow. A bill has 
 lately passed the Hungarian Assembly giving fi-ee 
 toleration ; and now the colporteur may go from one 
 end to another unmolested. Colportage is the spe- 
 cial agency needed. Men of God must be found. 
 The Word must be carried to the cottages of the 
 poor, and the palaces of the rich. Men and money ! 
 men and money ! The Lord send that with his bless- 
 ing; for the fields are ripening, and 'the breaker- 
 up' (Micah ii. 13) is going before. Half-hearted 
 effbi-ts will not do. The opening has been made, 
 the prayer of years has been answei'ed, and the 
 responsibility is not realized. Something more is 
 needed than thundering applause at great meet- 
 
366 The Bohemian Protestant Chnrck. 
 
 ings, when some well-turned sentence is uttered. 
 Something more is needed than singing — 
 
 (( < WTere the whole realm of nature mine, 
 That were a present far too small; 
 Love so amazing, so divine, 
 
 Demands my soul, my life, my all.' 
 
 " God does not want what we have not to give. 
 The whole realm of nature belongs to Him. He 
 has, however, given money to some, and He expects 
 that his cause shall be supported, and that with lib- 
 eral hand. 
 
 "I have gleaned much information about the 
 Bohemian Protestant Church, and have met with 
 some of its pastors. Looking abroad on Bohemia, 
 you are reminded of Ezekiel's visions. The valley 
 is full of bones, and they are very dry. Can these 
 dry bones live? Yea, Lord, we believe they can. 
 Only breathe, and it is done ! Only command, and 
 it shall stand fast ! IMany of the Protestants live too 
 much on the past. It is well to speak of the suffer- 
 ings, trials, and triumphs of those who have gone 
 before. It is well to unroll the scroll of martyred 
 lives, and speak with hallowed breath of the names 
 so gloriously written there. But nothing will do in 
 the place of a crucified, living, coming Jesus, and 
 the forth-putting of the Spirit's power. 
 
 "Bohemia fills a noble niche in history's page; 
 but as one reads it, how sad the thought, that what 
 faggot and exile could not do a Christless form ac- 
 
Appeal for Help. 367 
 
 complished ! Eevival is a thing unknown, and few- 
 think of the hving power. If they can hold their 
 own, they are satisfied. Efforts for the conversion 
 of others are almost unknown. They have been 
 sadly isolated, and now when they breathe the air 
 of freedom, and the opening is made, no one is 
 ready to enter on it. One said to me yesterday, 
 'We need evangelists. If God were to raise up a 
 Spurgeon amongst us, the fuel is ready for the 
 kindling.' Only let the cry be heard, 'Bohemia 
 for Christ ! ' and many would rally round the stand- 
 ard. On its plains the battles of 1866 were fought, 
 which have made a way for the truth never known 
 before. 
 
 "I am deeply anxious to get 'The Blood of Jesus.* 
 by Mr. Reid, and a selection of M'Cheyne's sermons, 
 such as I got into Gaelic, translated into the Bo- 
 hemian language, spoken by three millions. I have 
 so far made arrangements for the translation, and 
 also to have articles taken from the Herald of Mercy 
 monthly, and inserted in periodicals published in 
 Prague. Will your readers help ^vith money ? It 
 would be but little for some of them to do it alto- 
 gether. It would be a great privilege. I ask it in 
 the name of Him whose they are, and whom they 
 serve. It may be of infinite consequence having it 
 done soon. Time is passing quickly, and masses 
 are on the march to an eternal hell. 
 
 "A gentleman from London has been laboring 
 quietly, and putting the Gospel before many here. 
 
368 Leaves Bohemia. 
 
 He has great advantages, speaking tlie German as 
 well as English. 
 
 "Farewell, Bohemia! The dark shadows which 
 so long have hung over thee may soon be chased 
 away. A bright morning may soon dawn upon 
 thee. Resurrection-life may be felt in thy scattered 
 hamlets, along thy mountain sides, and in thy 
 crowded cities. I bid thee farewell ! and as I do, 
 I breathe out the prayer that God may soon say, 
 'Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory 
 of the Lord is risen upon thee ! ' 
 
 " Ever yours in Jesus, Duncan Matheson. 
 
 "Carlsbad, Bohemia, June 2, 1868." 
 
 After making arrangements with a Bohemian 
 pastor for the translation of Bonar's "Memoir of 
 M'Cheyne," Eeid's "Blood of Jesus," and his own 
 "Herald of Mercy," into German, he took his de- 
 parture from Carlsbad. Passing through Switzer- 
 land, he spent a few days at Mannedorf, the scene 
 of Dorothea Triidel's healing labors, where he was 
 received with the greatest kindness by Pastor Zeller. 
 "All here," he writes, "is love." Ever bent on win- 
 ning souls, he sought the means of reaching at least 
 one poor heart. A lady, who had lived a gay life, 
 was deeply impressed by his faithful words as he 
 spoke to her of Christ. Hastening home, he reached 
 Perth in a state of utter exhaustion; and it was 
 only too evident to all his friends that the earthly 
 tabernacle was passing rapidly to decay. 
 
At the Perth Conference. 369 
 
 At the Perth Conference, in September, 1868, he 
 dehvered the following addi-ess on co-operation in 
 the work of the Lord : 
 
 "We live in stirring times. The old order of 
 things in Church and State is rapidly breaking up, 
 or if not breaking up, great changes are taking 
 place in both. 
 
 "A few years ago there was no need of introduc- 
 ing such a subject as this, for evangelists did not 
 occupy the places they now do, and the work which 
 the great God has on the wheels had not then ap- 
 peared. Whatever may be thought, this subject is 
 a momentous one, and demands instant attention. 
 It is pregnant with infinite results, and affects the 
 destiny of many a soul. 
 
 " God has raised up not a few evangelists who go 
 hither and thither. I call the majority of them ir- 
 regulars, free lances, knowing no church, under- 
 standing nothing of parochial divisions, subject to 
 no master but Christ, and, it cannot be denied, 
 wielding a mighty influence on not a few. 
 
 "There is much in their freedom of action fitted 
 to help on the work, and also snares which only 
 grace can deliver from. It is likely their numbers 
 will be greatly increased ; and if the Lord shall use 
 them as sharp sickles for gathering in souls, surely 
 every Christian will, from the inmost soul, bid them 
 God-speed. 
 
 "With such of them as have a single eye in seek- 
 ing the salvation of the lost (and I think life is nobly 
 
370 Words to Evangelists, 
 
 spent if spent for this), living ministers can have no 
 dijfficulty in working. Co-operation with the dead 
 on either side is out of the question; co-operation 
 with the living is to be sought after by every possi- 
 ble means. 
 
 " Usually evangelists go to places to which they 
 have been invited by one or more living souls. 
 Their work is to 'preach the gospel.' With all my 
 heart I protest against what I have known — men 
 received with all warmth of simplicity, and quietly 
 leadiQg unsuspectiQg ones away to their pecuhar 
 views, leaving afterwards a leaven of division inju- 
 rious in its results. Let men be honest. They have 
 a fair field, and the sacred rights of conscience no 
 man has a right to invade. I have preached in 
 many lands, and in this dear land of ours I have 
 proclaimed salvation in its crowded cities, lowly 
 hamlets, by the side of its wimpling burnies, and 
 on its mountain sides, and no one dare charge me 
 with making one proselyte to my views, or spend- 
 ing my time on aught else but the one theme. 
 
 " I stand to-day and with my eye fixed on the 
 lost^ I plead with evangelists to keep at the one 
 thing. With the vision cleared by heaven's lamp, 
 they will see the crowd rushing on to destruction, 
 sporting with death, indifi'erent to Calvary, laugh- 
 ing on the way to hell. When there are no souls 
 to save, turn to teaching. William Bums, that man 
 of God now in glory, was once asked by a lady many 
 things as to how he felt when preaching to the mil- 
 
'■^Bear and Forbear P 371 
 
 lions of China. After a pause, and fixing his eye 
 on her — an eye that was always full of pity — he 
 said, ' I never think but of one thing — the lost and 
 a Christ for them ! ' 
 
 "I have been told that it is a sacrifice preaching 
 always to the unsaved. I grant it. We lose much 
 joy in always dwelling about the temple door, and 
 not rising to proclaim higher truths, in which our 
 souls would luxuriate. But if we speak of sacrifices, 
 let us think of the tears wept over Jerusalem, of the 
 sore agony in dark Gethsemane, of the dying love 
 on the cross, and then say if life itself is not worth 
 the giving, if we may but win one jewel for Im- 
 manuel's crown. 
 
 "Bless God for Scottish caution; but it is often at 
 fault. When an evangelist comes to a place, there 
 ought at first to be a 'trying of the spirits.' Stand- 
 ing on etiquette must be laid aside. Evangelists, 
 if full of power, need not to be patronized. Earnest 
 ministers are not to be ignored. They meet on a 
 common platform. They serve the one Christ. 
 
 "Stereotyped modes of action, if need be, must 
 be laid aside, and the ministry of the Spirit must 
 be recognized. 
 
 "In my younger days there was a very current 
 advice common amongst the people — ^Bear and 
 forbear' There will ever be need of doing both. 
 Essentials must be held by both as with a death- 
 grip; but non-essentials may be scattered to the 
 winds. In one sense neither must act the gentle- 
 
372 Watching the Tide. 
 
 man. Both should toil and sweat as laborers. The 
 fnrrows turned up by both should be so joined that 
 when the seed S23rings the furrows may be hid un- 
 der the golden grain ripening for the harvest-home 
 of heaven. 
 
 " I only returned a few days ago from the sea-side. 
 In my weakness I used to sit and mark the ebbing 
 and flowing tide. When it was out every inequal- 
 ity in the shore could be seen, hidden rocks were 
 laid bare, and the tangle-covered bottom exposed. 
 When in, all was covered. There was nothing to 
 be seen but the blue sea — the one great ocean. So, 
 when the Holy Ghost shall put forth his almighty 
 power, a subject such as this will not be raised. The 
 waves of salvation rolling along shall put all out of 
 sight, as ministers and evangelists — like men rescu- 
 ing the drowning from a wreck, almost sweating 
 blood as they do it ; or saving the inmates of some 
 burning home — run with hell pursuing and heaven 
 beckoning onward, holding up the cross, and in 
 thrilling tones cry aloud — 
 
 *' 'There is life for a look at the crucified One, 
 There is life at this moment for thee ; 
 Then look, sinner, look unto Him and be saved, 
 Unto Him that was nailed to the tree. ' 
 
 "There is nothing comparable to the loss of a soul. 
 God, heaven, hell, salvation, are awfully solemn real- 
 ities. The shadows of eternity are falling on the 
 path of some of us. They are not dark, but light- 
 ened by the glory that shines from the better land. 
 
The Riding Passion, 373 
 
 I know not how it may soon be with me. A Fa- 
 ther can heal if He pleases. I leave it in His hand. 
 It is sweet to know that we toil only for a little. 
 That sowing in tears, we shall reap in joy. Let us 
 seek the welding heat of heaven. We can only do 
 valiantly as we receive power from on high. That 
 power will not be withheld, and blessing will come. 
 With all the earnestness of a dying man, and with 
 my eye fixed on the judgment-seat, I would affec- 
 tionately urge all who love the Lord to pray, labor, 
 and live for the lost. Lift up Jesus and 'Jesus 
 ONLY,' for — 
 
 " ' His name forever shall endure: 
 Last like the sun it shall ; 
 Men shall be blest in Him, and Bless' d 
 All nations shall Him call. 
 
 " 'And blessed be His glorious name, 
 To all eternity; 
 The whole earth let His glory fill: 
 Amen: so let it be.' " 
 
 For the rest of his time he was seldom able to 
 preach. But the ruling passion was strong in him 
 to the last. Although not a murmur escaped his 
 lips, he longed for the old freedom and joy in pro- 
 claiming the glad tidings of salvation, and some- 
 times seemed like the imprisoned lion thrusting him- 
 self with a noble violence against the bars of his 
 cage. One day on hearing that three persons had 
 been converted through the instrumentality of his 
 *' Herald of Mercy" he said, "I thank God for this; 
 
374 ^^^^ Intense Earnestness. 
 
 but after all there is nothing like the living voice 
 for carrying the truth to men's souls." Now and 
 then he indulged in the luxury of preaching, and 
 never at this period without marked results. There 
 was now a marvellous intensity and tenderness in 
 his words. He really poured out his soul in his ad- 
 dresses. It appeared to need more than human ob- 
 duracy of heart to listen to him without being 
 melted and drawn. In several places sinners were 
 converted at the little meetings. 
 
 Now, however, that the living voice was all but 
 hushed did he labor to publish salvation through the 
 press. And the grace and kindness of his Divine 
 Master were strikingly displayed in the remarkable 
 blessing that now rested on his publications. Every 
 week, and sometimes indeed every day, brought 
 him tidings of sinners converted by means of his 
 periodical or special issues. The blessed results of 
 the labor of former years were also constantly and 
 providentially coming to light, and he was both 
 cheered and humbled. "Oh, how good a God He 
 is! " was his frequent exclamation. "Oh! if I were 
 better," he often said, "I would preach Christ more 
 than ever. I would warn men more than ever. I 
 would speak of eternity more than ever." 
 
 As he was about to start for the south of Eng- 
 land in quest of health, the dying evangelist took up 
 the railway map to examine the route, but forget- 
 ting his immediate purpose he began to ponder the 
 spiritual condition of the region, and looking up 
 
The Ministry of Suffering, 375 
 
 said, "These three counties are c?eac? — utterly dead T^ 
 Compelled by the inroads of the fatal disease to 
 avoid the excitement of conversation, he invented 
 various devices to supply the place of personal deal- 
 ing with fellow-travellers, or other strangers whom 
 he happened to meet. Knowing the reluctance of 
 many to read religious tracts or books, he printed 
 in large type on little neat cards pointed and sol- 
 emn truths, with which he sought to awaken the 
 world's heavy sleepers. For example the following: 
 
 "There is 
 
 A God 
 
 Who sees thee ! 
 
 A Moment 
 
 Which flies from thee! 
 
 An Eternity 
 
 Which awaits thee ! 
 
 A God whom you serve so ill ! 
 
 A Moment of which you so Httle profit! 
 
 An Eternity you hazard so rashly I 
 
 Eeader, 
 
 Where will you spend Eternity? 
 
 In Heaven or Hell? 
 
 Which?" 
 
 His was now a new and even more Christ-like 
 ministry. The ministry of activity, of valor, of ex- 
 hausting toil, and of heroic perseverance had been 
 fully accomplished. It was now the ministry of suf- 
 
376 Instant in Prayer. 
 
 fering : and holy suffering is most like the ministry 
 of the Son of God. It is the ministry of the crushed 
 sandal-tree which yields its perfume to the wood- 
 man's axe. The ministry of the alabaster box which 
 must needs be broken that the aroma of the oint- 
 ment may fill the house. We saw the breaking of 
 the box, and the richness of the fragrance tempted 
 us to ask, Why this waste — why this premature 
 break-up of that goodly form ? We might as well 
 ask why the angel of the covenant maimed Jacob 
 just as he obtained victory and blessing. God's 
 Israels have strange experiences; out of weakness 
 they are often made strong. It was at this period 
 he attained his greatest power in prayer. He now 
 ascended to a summit of faith that few Christians 
 ever reach. "I have been all night," said he to a 
 Christian friend, "between Gethsemane and Cal- 
 vary, between the manger and the cross." Many a 
 night was now spent on the mount of intercession. 
 It was not merely the prayer of faith : it was also 
 the prayer of love. As the glory of love is its dis- 
 interestedness, so one of the noblest qualities of true 
 prayer is disinterested love. He seemed to lay his 
 will alongside of the will of God, and the answer 
 admitted not of doubt. Often did he rise from his 
 knees in a flood of tears, but they were tears of joy. 
 And we have seen a whole assembly moved till 
 every eye was wet, whilst with child-like simplicity 
 and holy tenderness he entreated his God — " Lord, 
 take us to-day to Calvary, and show us afi'esh thy 
 
TJie Tabernacle in Ridns. 377 
 
 pierced hands and feet, thy thorn-crowned brow. 
 Give us at the cross a new baptism of thy Holy 
 Spirit. Send us to tell the unsaved that we have 
 seen the Lord. jMake us weep over them, as Thou 
 didst over Jerusalem. Show us the moving mass 
 on their march down to the pit. Show us the city : 
 let us walk its golden streets. We are in it by faith 
 to-day. Show us its jasper walls, and above all Him 
 that is its light." Thus he prayed: and it is added 
 by the narrator, "he wept as he rose from prayer." 
 Often as he plead for the salvation of Scotland, and 
 of the whole Avorld, he said, like one of our an- 
 cient worthies, " Take long strides, Lord, take long 
 strides." 
 
 The summer of 1869 found him in a dying state. 
 Many prayers had been offered for his recovery, 
 but he grew worse. All known remedies had been 
 employed ; for the same generous friends who had 
 aided him in his numerous schemes of Christian 
 usefulness, lovingly ministered to him of their sub- 
 stance during his long illness. But all means were 
 in vain ; the disease obedient to the great Master's 
 will went on in its stern course, till at length every 
 pin was unfastened, and the tabernacle lay in ruins. 
 In July of that year he went to Bruar in the High- 
 lands, where he remained till within a fortnight of 
 his death. Although in a condition of extreme 
 prostration, he employed much of his time in pre- 
 paring various matters for the press. " The Herald 
 of Mercy'' was got ready for the rest of the year; 
 
3/8 The ^^Good Tidings^'' etc. 
 
 and after lie was gone it was touching enough, to 
 see his httle periodical appear month after month 
 just as he had prepared it; it was hke a voice 
 speaking out of eternity. He also prepared a little 
 book entitled "Things Worth Knowing," and papers 
 called "Good Tidings" and "New Year's Gift," hun- 
 dreds of thousands of which were printed and put 
 into circulation. One of these papers, it may be 
 Btated on the authority of a faithful servant of the 
 Lord Jesus, was instrumental in the conversion of 
 two persons some three months after the hand of 
 this unwearying sower of the truth had lost its 
 cunning in death. 
 
 Another instance of blessing on those last labors 
 appeared in " I^Ae Christian'' of Sept. 15th, 1870: 
 
 "H.M.S. Hihernia, Malta. — ^Towards the end of 
 last year I received a large bundle of tracts, books 
 and 'New Year's Gifts,' from an unknown donor. 
 They were addressed to Mr. Hodges, Koyal Na- 
 val Scripture-reader (my predecessor). Soldiers' and 
 Sailors' Institute, Burmala, Malta, who kindly sent 
 word that I might distribute them amongst the 
 men for whom they were intended. This I did as 
 follows: Hymn-books, Burmala and Valetta Insti- 
 tutes, books amongst the soldiers and children; 
 *New Years Gifts' one in each mess of every ship 
 on the station, some twenty-four vessels; and the 
 tracts have been given away in various ships, regi- 
 ments, hospitals, and prisons. Now all these have 
 not only greatly strengthened my hands during 
 
Last Addresses. 379 
 
 the past ten months, bnt a rich manifest blessing 
 has attended their widespread circulation. Tlie 
 ''New Years Gifts,' and ' Good Tidiiigs' caused quite 
 a revival of true religion in several quarters. One 
 remarkable case I will mention. To the reading 
 of a 'New Year's Gift,' one of the crew of the 
 Bellerophon owes his direct conversion. This man 
 is a genuine disciple of the Lord ; so that if he was 
 the only case of blessing, the person who kindly- 
 sent them is richly rewarded. 'That day' will 
 declare all the good done. I ought to mention 
 
 that, after W received the blessing himself, he 
 
 sent the little messenger home to his aged mother 
 and friends, there to be a further blessing, we trust. 
 I should be very happy to receive another similar 
 bundle ere this year closes, and we will look for- 
 ward with increasing joy for a greater blessing on 
 them, and to that happy hour when sower and 
 reaper shall rejoice together in our home above. 
 Mr. G. Brown, Sick Bay, Steward H.M.S. Crocodile, 
 Portsmouth, will receive any parcels for me, and 
 see them safely delivered. — Charles Briber." 
 
 On Sabbath evenings Mr. Matheson addressed a 
 meeting in a room of the house where he lodged. 
 To this meeting he literally crept, so weak was he ; 
 and from the last one he was all but carried to his 
 own room. In vain did friends entreat him to spare 
 himself He knew his time was very short ; he sev- 
 eral times told his wife he would be removed about 
 the middle of September ; and he begged to be in- 
 
380 His Return to Perth. 
 
 dulged in the luxury of preaching Christ once more. 
 These services were deeply impressive, his last text 
 being, "What think ye of Christ?" 
 
 As he lay looking out on the hills he said, " Very, 
 very soon these eyes shall be gazing on the ever- 
 lasting hills. . . . Soon I shall be beholding 
 fairer scenes than those. ... I shall soon see 
 the King in his beauty, and the land that is very 
 far off." 
 
 On September 3d he returned to Perth; and on 
 reaching his house he called his whole family to- 
 gether, that together they might offer thanks for 
 the great goodness of the Lord to him and them. 
 He then calmly set his house in order, not overlook- 
 ing the most trivial matter. "Give my clothes to 
 the poor," he said to his wife ; it was almost the only 
 legacy he had to leave. To his friends at parting 
 he spake words of joy and triumph. To Dr. A. 
 
 S he said, "Resurgam." To Mr. M , an 
 
 evangelist, "You are going to speak of the King, 
 but I am going to see Him." To his old Crimean 
 friend, Mr. Hector Macpherson, whose emotion at 
 parting Avas too strong for even the soldier's firm- 
 ness, he said, "Do not weep for me: I have only to 
 die once that I may live forever." To another, 
 who found him making arrangements for a series of 
 evangelistic services to be held at Hillhead, near 
 Glasgow, he said, "I should like to die planning 
 revival services." The services then planned by him 
 were in progress at the time of his death : the word 
 
'"Jesus OnlyT 381 
 
 was in demonstration of the Spirit, and a consider- 
 able number of persons were converted. 
 
 To another friend he said, "I got the victory long 
 ago — when the Lord first forgave my sins. . . . 
 You have nothing now to ask for me but tliat I may 
 have an abundant entrance." 
 
 To Mrs. Sandeman, Springland, he said, "It's all 
 love — it's all well. Beality is the great thing — I 
 
 have always sought reality I have 
 
 served the Lord for tAvo and twenty years ; I have 
 sought to win souls — it has been my passion — and 
 now I have the fruit of it. One of my spiritual chil- 
 dren went the other day as a missionary to China, 
 and many others of them are preaching the Gospel. 
 . . . Well, at least you can say you have seen 
 the vanquished the conqueror." 
 
 When alone, he was often heard saying to him- 
 self with a quiet jubilance of tone, "Victory!" and 
 often too, in soft, rapt whispers, "Jesus only! " 
 
 From day to day he fed on the good word of 
 grace. One day it was, "Ye are complete in Him." 
 Another day it was, " Christ is the end of the law for 
 righteousness to every one that belie veth." Again 
 it was, "Who his own self bare our sins in his own 
 body on the tree, that we being dead to sins should 
 live unto righteousness : by whose stripes ye were 
 healed." Near his end he triumphed in those words, 
 " The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are 
 the everlasting arms." Shortly before his departure 
 he was fiercely assailed by the great adversary. 
 
382 His Hinnility. 
 
 The conflict was sharp but short, and victory re- 
 mained with the soldier of the cross. Grasping the 
 sword of the Spirit, he was enabled to contend till 
 at length the enemy left the field and returned no 
 more. Curiously enough, the Scripture by which 
 he was enabled through grace at this time to over- 
 come was the memorable passage inscribed on his 
 grand-uncle's tombstone, " They that be wise shall 
 shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they 
 that turn many to righteousness as the stars for- 
 ever and ever ! " More than twenty years before he 
 had knelt upon the grave and consecrated himself 
 to the service of Jesus, transcribing with prayers 
 and tears into his innermost heart the words of the 
 prophet. They had been the helm of his subsequent 
 career, the guiding star of his extraordinary minis- 
 try. To these words his thoughts naturally reverted ; 
 and now when clouds gathered upon the sky, his star 
 shone calmly down upon him, and he was guided 
 through the storm. To use his own saying, lie was 
 now getting what lie had gone in for. There are many 
 lights in the firmament of the Word ; and it may 
 seem meet to God in his wisdom to guide through 
 the darkness and the tempest some keen-eyed mar- 
 iner of faith by a star too remote for your eyes or 
 mine to discern. "I have not been wise," he said 
 with unfeigned humility to his wife. "Yet God has 
 used me in turning many to righteousness, and 1 
 know," he added, with an eye rekindled as the dark- 
 ness passed away before the light of coming glory 
 
Awaiting the Summons. 383 
 
 now streaming into Ms soul, "I know He is true, 
 and I shall be with Him forever." 
 
 To his children he spoke of Jesus, and of the 
 chariot coming to take him to glory. He charged 
 them each one to meet him in heaven. To his wife 
 he frequently addressed words of comfort: "You 
 will have your trials," he said, "but the Lord will 
 bear you through them, and the trials will make you 
 shine the brighter." He assured her again and agam 
 that the Lord would liberally supply all her and their 
 children's needs. " Mary," said he to her, " I have 
 another text to give you to-day. It is this: 'A 
 Father of the fatherless, and a Judge of the widows, 
 is God in his holy habitation ' " (Ps. Ixviii. 5.) To his 
 sister he said, " Oh, Jessie, isn't it infinite love that 
 I should not be suffering ? " He abounded in thanks- 
 giving, and often asked Mrs. Matheson to assist him 
 in singing praise. Psalms, and hymns, and spiritual 
 songs were the latest efforts of his voice. Two 
 hymns, "Awaiting the Summons," and "Soon to 
 be with Jesus," he frequently repeated; and as they 
 seemed most fitly to express his thoughts and feel- 
 ings during his last hours, one of them may, in part 
 at least, be given here : 
 
 AWAITING THE SUMMONS. 
 
 " Away from the wilderness-state 
 
 My spirit would thankfully flee ; 
 And yet in the patience of hope I would wait. 
 Till Thou, my Lord, callest for me. 
 
384 Filled with the Spirit of Glory. 
 
 *' why should I tremble or dread 
 
 At whatever may hai^pen around, 
 While I cling unto Thee, the life-giving Head, 
 In whom all true nourishment's found? 
 
 " Thou dost not allow me to quail. 
 
 Though keen the blasts oftentimes blow; 
 For Thou art my refuge, that never can fail, 
 Though all things are failing below. 
 
 •' With a conscience at peace with my God, 
 And a heart from anxiety free, 
 I pray that the rest of my path may be trod 
 In happy communion with Thee." 
 
 " Mary," lie said to his wife, " this room is filled 
 with the heavenly host. Had I strength, how we 
 would sing!" On this he repeated the last three 
 verses of the 72d Psalm in metre, coming back with 
 rapt delight on the last four lines — 
 
 " And blessed be His glorious name 
 To all eternity ! 
 The whole earth let His glory fill: 
 Amen: so let it be !" 
 
 He now appeared to be filled with the Spirit of 
 glory and of God; and as if already triumphing 
 amidst the heavenly host, his voice gave out with 
 exultant tones the words of Psalm Ixviii. 17 — 
 
 '* God's chariots twenty thousand are. 
 Thousands of angels strong; 
 In's holy place God is, as in 
 Mount Sinai them among." 
 
 As night came on — the last brief period of dark- 
 ness to him forever — he said, with characteristic joy- 
 fulness of faith, "Light all the lights; and let not 
 
''Preach Christ!'' 385 
 
 this be a charnel-house." It was to him not death 
 but Hfe; not sorrow, disaster, or defeat, but joy, 
 honor, and victory. It was not a time to mourn, 
 but a festive season ; and he would go to the mar- 
 riage-supper of the Lamb with a garland of praise 
 in his hand to cast at the feet of the King. It was 
 in the same jubilance of faith that he often said, 
 " Be not sorrowful at my burial. Praise God as ye 
 carry me to my grave. And when you lay me down, 
 sing — 
 
 " ' There is rest for the weary.' " 
 
 Yet amidst all this triumph, nothing could be more 
 striking than the increasing trustfulness with which 
 he clung to the cross. The scriptures he chiefly 
 dwelt on were those bearing on the death of Jesus 
 in the room of sinners. To an evangelist who came 
 to bid him farewell, he said, with death-like earnest- 
 ness, " Preach Christ." Not long before he had said 
 to a young minister — one of his own converts — "If 
 I were to live I would preach substitution more than 
 I have ever done." 
 
 His peace was now neither coming nor going, but 
 flowing on like a river ; and he frequently repeated 
 these lines — 
 
 • ' In peace let me resign my breath, 
 And thy salvation see; 
 My sins deserve eternal death, 
 But Jesus died for me." 
 
 He had now but one want — " the coming of the 
 King." " How is it the King tarries," he said, in a 
 25 
 
386 Bidding His Friends Farewell. 
 
 tone of intense longing, " when the chariot- wheels 
 are so very near ? " Then he seemed to hearken for 
 a Httle to the inaudible voice of the King, and after 
 the pause said, " Ah, but He has a purpose in this ! " 
 It was said to him, 
 
 " Jesus can make a dying bed 
 Feel soft as downy pillows are." 
 
 "Yes," he replied; "and He is doing it for me." 
 
 His suffering was great, but at the worst he said, 
 
 in his own hopeful way, 
 
 * ' Beyond tlie sighing and the weeping 
 I shall be soon." 
 
 At this time, a few hours before he died, he said 
 that many of his old friends were passing before his 
 mind. His ardently affectionate heart was summon- 
 ing them up for a last embrace. Mentioning the 
 names of one after another, he said, " Give them my 
 undying love." 
 
 Every prayer seemed to be answered and every 
 wish gratified. He longed to see his sister, and she 
 came unexpectedly from Huntly. He desired to see 
 his former pastor and fellow-laborer in the Gospel, 
 j\Ir. Williamson, and providentially his well-tried 
 friend came in after a long journey. He earnestly 
 desired once more to see the writer of these pages, 
 and it was my privilege to be with him during the 
 last hour of his life. On entering his room I was 
 struck with his appearance. He was singularly 
 elevated, and yet profoundly calm. His intellect 
 possessed all the vigor of his best days; his eye 
 
Resting on the Sin-bearer. 387 
 
 was clear and softly lustrous ; his voice liad recov- 
 ered its manliness and power, and his lion-like feat- 
 ures seemed to repose in the sense of victory. I saw 
 at a glance that he was on the threshold of glory, 
 for the very light of heaven was on his face. Yet 
 all was so natural and unaffected that I could not 
 help saying to myself, "He is the same man, the 
 very same man, Duncan Matheson and no other." 
 Even a touch of the old humor was there. Taking 
 a few whiffs of a cigar to relieve his mouth of the 
 painful sensations caused by disease, he said, refer- 
 ring to the morbid pietism which his manly spirit 
 had never liked, "If some people saw me at this, 
 they would think it was not very like reading 
 ' Thomas a Kempis.' " 
 
 Particularly and tenderly he inquired about the 
 welfare of all his friends. As of old, he asked espe- 
 cially about the work of the Lord, praising God 
 when he was told of prosperity, and saymg sol- 
 emnly in reference to certain who temporized, 
 "Never mind them. 'What is the chaff to the 
 wheat?' saith the Lord." Then he began to tell 
 me that he was resting on the Sin-bearer, at the 
 same time quoting the Scriptures that were yield- 
 ing his soul peace and rest. He said, "I am weary, 
 and I am waiting. . . . Heaven will literally 
 be a rest to me." He seemed like a man returning 
 from the harvest-field with the last golden sheaf 
 upon his shoulder. Pacing wearily along the stub- 
 ble in the clear, crisp air of an autumnal evening, 
 
388 The Last Scene. 
 
 suddenly the countenance of the worn-out reaper 
 brightens, and his step is instinctively quickened as 
 his ear catches the first sound of the merry-making 
 and the harvest-home ; and all his weariness is for- 
 gotten as he anticipates 
 
 .... " The shout of them that triumph, 
 
 The song of them that feast." 
 
 As he talked of Christ and glory, he said, " It may 
 be a few days yet before I get home, or only a few 
 hours." Perceiving the emotion I could not con- 
 ceal, he said, with the tear of fond, but manly affec- 
 tion in his eye, " You cannot come with me. You 
 have more work to do, and you must wait a while. 
 
 Ah ! dear Macpherson," he added, 
 
 with much feeling, as he called to mind the former 
 days, "you and I are like two war-ships" — the old 
 warrior spirit stirred in him to the last — "meeting 
 far out at sea, and one of them is going down in 
 mid-ocean." "Not so," I replied; "rather it is this: 
 one of them is about to enter the haven of peace, 
 while the other is left to toss upon the uncertain 
 deep." Then, as if girding up his loins, he said 
 bravely, "I have cast my ^nq fatherless children 
 upon the Lord, and all shall be well." 
 
 His heart now began to stir again with longings 
 to depart, and with the high praises of his God. 
 When we had prayed together, he said in his old 
 familiar way, " Man, I don't get singing enough. 
 I want to sing : will you help me ? " I agreed to 
 sing with him the hymn, " Shall we gather at the 
 
Lifes Last Hours. 389 
 
 river ? " But before singing he insisted, with that 
 warmth of genuine hospitahty that characterized 
 him, on my partaking of refreshment. Just then 
 he was seized with cramp. We seemed to hear a 
 voice saying, " The Master is come, and calleth for 
 thee." Quickly his wife and sister were by iiis 
 side. " Our friend is in deep waters," said his kind 
 Christian physician whom I ran to fetch. So in- 
 deed it was : but his feet were firm upon the rock. 
 The everlasting arms were underneath him. " Lord 
 Jesus, come quickly ! Oh, come quickly ! " he several 
 times exclaimed. Quickly the Lord Jesus came and 
 took him. Our hymn was not sung. He went to 
 sing by the river : and we were left to Aveep. 
 
 On the 16th day of September, just as the sun was 
 going down, Duncan Matheson disappeared from 
 our view to shine in another sphere. Thus de- 
 parted a right brave and great-hearted man — the 
 man who above millions had lived for God, the 
 man who above most men had labored for souls 
 and for eternity. "Blessed are the dead that die 
 in the Lord from henceforth : yea, saith the Spirit, 
 that they may rest from their labors: and their 
 works do follow them." 
 
 In accordance with his own wish the funeral was 
 a private one. On the 21st September a few friends, 
 not witliout prayers and praises, and tears and sore 
 pangs of grief, quietly carried him to the new burial 
 place at Scone, and laid him down in a pleasant spot 
 chosen by himself His friend, the minister of the 
 
390 His Epitaph. 
 
 Free Church at Scone, having oiferecl prayer by the 
 grave, the company joined in singing, "There is 
 rest for the weary," two of the evangeHst's own con- 
 verts, a preacher and a student, both devoted to the 
 work of the Lord, leading the praise. So we left 
 him there to rest, and truly he sleeps well. 
 
 His grave is marked by a plain monument on 
 which is inscribed, as prepared by himself, the fol- 
 lowing epitaph: 
 
 "In Memory 
 
 of 
 
 Duncan Matheson, 
 
 Editor ' Herald of Mercy,' 
 
 and 
 
 Evangelist. 
 
 Bom at Huntly, Nov. 22d, 1824. 
 
 Born again, Oct. 26, 1846. 
 
 Died Sept. 16tli, 1869. 
 
 "And they that be -wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament: 
 
 and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars forever and ever 
 
 pan. xii. 3)." 
 
 Keader, if you are not in Christ, ponder, I pray 
 you, "the path of your feet." As we part, I will 
 leave the Scottish evangelist at his old post, with 
 his hand pointing you to the way of life. You re- 
 member the words of the Lord Jesus in which He 
 describes the wide and strait gates (Matt. vii. 13, 
 14), and by a few master-strokes portrays the char- 
 acters, ways, and eternal destinies of the two classes 
 of men, the saved and the lost. This was our evan- 
 gelist's great burden, and never did he preach on the 
 broad and narrow ways, as we heard him tell, with- 
 
A Finger-post. 
 
 391 
 
 out seeing fruit. The substance of that discourse, so 
 marvellously owned of God, he printed in a conspic- 
 uous form, which he held up everywhere to catch 
 the eye of travellers to the judgment-seat. Here 
 then, as we mark the last footprint of this faithful 
 servant of the Lord, let us erect his finger-post of 
 
 THE TWO 
 
 THE BKOAD. 
 
 Its gate is wide Matt. vii. 13. 
 
 Its way is dark Prov. ii. 13. 
 
 Its paths are false Prov. xiv. 12. 
 
 It is crowded by those 
 
 who forsake God Isaiah i. 4. 
 
 who do iniquity Isaiah lix. 3. 
 
 who serve the devil. .John viii. 44. 
 
 It leads to Misery Rom. ii. 9. 
 
 Death Eom. vi. 21. 
 
 Judgment . . Matt. xii. 36. 
 Its end is hell, where 
 there shall be wailing 
 and gnashing of teeth. Matt. xiii. 42. 
 
 ROADS. 
 
 THE NAKROW. 
 
 Its gate is strait Matt. vii. 14. 
 
 Its way is light John viu. 12. 
 
 Its paths are truth Ps. xxv. 10. 
 
 It is trod by those who 
 
 forsake sin IPe. iii.10,11. 
 
 who do the will of 
 
 God Matt. vii. 21. 
 
 who serve the Lord 
 
 Christ Col. iii. 24. 
 
 It leads to Happiness. .Ps. Ixiv. 10. 
 
 Life Matt. vii. 14. 
 
 Eternal Glory. I Peter v. 10. 
 Its end is heaven, 
 where there is fulness 
 of joy and pleasures 
 for evermore Ps. xvi. 11. 
 
 READER, 
 Mark ! On this side you have And on this side you find 
 
 Death ! 
 Damnation I 
 
 LefeI 
 Salvation I 
 
 Satan ! God ! 
 
 Along which of these roads are you hastening ! 
 for in one or the other you most certainly are. Are 
 you in the way to God and Heaven? or Satan and 
 Hell? A mistake, if continued to the end, will be 
 fatal. " For what shall it profit a man, if he shall 
 gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" 
 (Mark viii. 36). 
 
392 Eternity. 
 
 Jesus Christ says: " I am the way, the truth, and 
 the Hfe: no man cometh unto the Father, but by 
 Me" (John xiv. 6). "He that beheveth on Me 
 hath everlasting hfe" (John vi. 47). "Him that 
 cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out" (John 
 vi. 37). "I came not to call the righteous, but sin- 
 ners to repentance" (Mark ii. 17). "The Son of 
 man is come to seek and to save that which was 
 lost" (Luke xix. 10). 
 
 Where will tou spend eternity? 
 
 "For God and eternity." 
 
SCOTCH BOOKS 
 
 AND 
 
 SCOTTISH AUTHORS. 
 
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 KOBEET CAETER AND BROTHERS, NEW YORK. 
 
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