ny i' CUf 9 LIRRA.RV OF THE University of California. Mrs. SARAH P. WALSWORTH. Received October, 18^4. ^Accessions No. 5^ X 2-6 Class No. aJL a^o^y A- cS*^ V**H»%W'i% X;> ^fj Lraum tfui(M.M':c:hjne 'laraiieU iu J.Sar&un r^ LML' r y^cM^lLU jAKi 1 l\ y\i Lt< /tJU MEMOIR AND REMAINS OF THE EEV. ROBERT MURRAY McCHEYNE 3IIM5TER OF ST. PETER's CHURCH, DUNDEE. BY THE REY.-A|D.REB: A. BONAR, MINISTER OF THE FREE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND, COLLAGE. WITH AN INTRODUCTORY LETTER SY THE Rev. SAMUEL MILLER, D.D. OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, PRINCETON, NEW JERSEY. PHILADELPHIA: PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION. Paul T. Jones, Publishing Agent. 1844. 6^7-2^6^ PRINTED BY William. S. Martica. >-^ ADVERTISEMENT. From a desire to render the volume portable, and thus obtain for it a wider circulation, the sermons and some of the minor writings of Mr. McCheyne have been omitted in this reprint. Several of these, however, have been published by the Board of Pub- lication in a separate form, making four or five very small volumes, which are suitable for Sabbath-school Libraries, as well as for the general reader. CONTENTS. Page Introductory Letter, vii Chap. I. His Youth and Preparation for the Ministry, ... 1 II. His Labours in the Vineyard before Ordination,. 36 III. First Years of Labour in Dundee, 62 IV. His Mission to Palestine and the Jews, 99 V. Days of Revival, 138 VI. The Latter Days of his Ministry, 171 Concluding Memorials, 200 Private Correspondence 207 Pastoral Letters, 298 To Members of a Prayer-Meeting 353 Evidence on Revivals, , 357 Songs of Zion. The Barren Fig Tree, 368 They sing the Song of Moses, 369 Jehovah Tsidnenu, 371 On Mungo Park's finding a tufl of moss, 372 I am Debtor, 374 Children called to Christ, 376 Thy Word is a Lamp unto my Feet, • • 377 vi CONTENTS. Page Songs of Zion. The Fountain of Siloam, 378 The Sea of Galilee, 379 To Yonder Side 380 On the Mediterranean Sea, at Acre, 382 The Child coming to Jesus, 383 Oil in the Lamp, 384 INTRODUCTORY LETTER. TO THE CHAIRMAN OF THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE OF THE BOARD OF PUBLICATION OF THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH IN THE UNITED STATES. Rev. and Dear Brother, — I have received, within a few days, from a valued correspondent in Scotland, a biographical work which I have read with peculiar pleasure, and which I could earnestly wish might be circulated throughout the bounds of our beloved Church. The work to which I refer is entitled, " Me- moir and Remains of the Reverend Robert Murray McCheyne, Minister of St. Peter's Church, Dundee, by the Rev. Andrew A. Bonar, Minister of the Free Church of Scotland, Collace." Although Mr. McCheyne was a young man, not extensively known to fame, who died last year at the early age of twenty-nine, yet he was so highly es- teemed and confided in by his brethren of the Church of Scotland, that in 1838, when in the twenty-fourth year of his age, he was chosen, in connexion with three older ministers, on a delegation to the Jews of Europe and Asia ; to inquire into their condition, and to report on the prospects and best means of calling their attention to the character and claims of the reli- gion of Christ. This commission he fulfilled with an ability and faithfulness which, together with the pre- ceding and subsequent character of his ministry, caused viii INTRODUCTORY LETTER. his death, which took place in 1843, to be regarded as a great calamity to the cause of truth and of vital piety in North Britain. The impression left by Mr. McCheyne on the minds of those who were most intimately acquainted with his person and ministry, is strongly portrayed in the following representation, found in a review of this memoir, contained in a periodical published in Edin- burgh, and evidently written by one who had the best opportunity of knowing the whole character of the deceased, in all its aspects. The extract will speak for itself. Such language could not have been prompt- ed by an ordinary man. " Robert Murray McCheyne ! To dwell on his saintly character would be a pleasant theme. At this realizing rnoment to produce his effigy seems a pos- sible task. That countenance so benevolently earnest, with its gleams of brightness flitting over its settled pensiveness; — that eye so mild and penetrating, as of one who had seen through the world's vanity before he had discerned the Saviour's beauty; — that fore- head familiar with high and holy thoughts; — that disentangled pilgrim-look which showed plainly that he ^sought a city;' — the serene self-possession of one who walked by faith ; — and the sequestered musing gait such as we might suppose the meditative Isaac had; — that aspect of compassion, in such unison with the remonstrating and entreating tones of his melo- dious and tender voice ; — that entire appearance as of one who had been with Jesus, and who would never be right at home till, where Jesus is, there he should also be : — these things we think we could delineate ; for associated as they are with some of the most solemn and delightful liours of personal history, they INTRODUCTORY LETTER. JX come back on memory with a vividness which anni- hilates the interval since last we saw them, and with that air of immortality about them, which says, joy- fully, * He is not dead, but sleepeth.' To know him was the best interpretation of many texts. At least, we have a clearer conception of what is meant by a 'hidden life,' and a Miving sacrifice,' and can better understand the sort of Ufe which Enoch led, since we made the acquaintance oi Robert McCheyne. " Happy would it have been for Scotland had all its churches and manses witnessed the scenes with which St. Peter's, Dundee, and the abode of its min- ister had become familiar. So heart-deep and hum- bling were the confessions of sin in Mr. McCheyne's family prayers and in public worship; so far did he descend into the inward abysses of atheism, and car- nality, and hypocrisy; and so faithfully and mourn- fully did he lay before the Lord these hidden plagues, the perversities of motive, and the intricacies of self- righteousness, that nothing was so fitted to convince of sin and destroy confidence in the flesh. Then in his prayers he held such reverential and endearing communion with a reconciled God; — he pressed so near the throne; there was something so filial in his * Abba, Father;' it was so obvious even to lookers-on, that he was putting his petitions and praises into the golden censer; — so express, and urgent, and hopeful were his supplications, that it was awakening to hear him pray. It was enough to make some Christians feel, ' Hitherto we have asked nothing in Jesus' name ;' and enough to prick the heart of prayerless worldlings. His preaching was a continuation of his prayers. In both he spoke from within the veil, his hand on the mercy seat, and his eye fixed on the things X INTRODUCTORY LETTER. invisible. His usual address was calm and evenly, but arresting and enchanting. His hold of the truth gave him a hold of his hearers. He was at home in the pulpit. He did not need to bestow that care on composition which is incumbent on less gifted men. His poetic fancy and instinctive taste, with a steady flow of thoughts and words, saved him much trouble in this respect. But that was all. He did not avail himself of his fine genius and happy power of lan- guage, to procure a name for eloquence. He was content that the subordinate end was answered, and that even in extempore addresses he could proceed without embarrassment or hesitation. His eye was single ; his aim was souls — souls for Jesus' sake. He had some other use for his bow than to entertain his hearers with the twang of the sonorous string. The salvation of souls was his object; and in his study preparing for the pulpit, and in the pulpit looking down upon his people, all his anxiety was to find truth that would penetrate the conscience — the unawakened consciences of all kinds of people, and truth which would lead anxious souls to the desired landing-place of peace with God. This unity of purpose gave a continuous earnestness and solemnity to his ministry. His feeblest appeal was more personal and importu- nate than the most pointed exhortations of vaguer ministers in their most faithful moods. His solicitude for the salvation of his hearers made him affectionate even beyond his natural tenderness. Sometimes a smile of momentary bitterness would be provoked when depicting the absurdity of sin and the infatua- tion of sinners; but it instantly subsided into the habit- ual compassion with which he yearned over souls. So well understood was his errand; — so accustomed INTRODUCTORY LETTER. xi were they to the entreating voice and expostulating attitude of this ambassador of Christ; — so thoroughly- aware that he was seeking their immediate conver- sion were the most careless in his congregation, that any disquisition which had not a present and practi- cal bearing, a sermon without Christ or without earn- estness, would have astonished the most indifterent among them, and made them fear that their minister was no longer himself. " Commending the truth to every man's conscience in the sight of God, a demonstration of the Spirit sel- dom failed to accompany his preaching. His minis- try at Dundee was a constant awakening, and he sel- dom addressed an auditory elsewhere without its proving to some a time much to be remembered. Nay, a demonstration of the Spirit accompanied his presence. His visits to pious families were hallowing, and his casual contact with secular men was solemni- zing; and even those who only * wondered and per- ished' knew that a prophet had been among them indeed. "But his character has been so often delineated al- ready, and the materials for knowing him better which these volumes supply, are so abundant, that we shall not pursue this personal portraiture any further. Nor shall we fill our pages with extracts from a book which we hope every reader of this Review has, by this time, either read or begun to read. His school-companion, his fellow-pilgrim to Palestine, his near neighbour in the ministry, and most frequent coadjutor in each la- bour of love, is his biographer. No one who knew how undivided in his life Mr. McCheyne and Mr. ^. Bonar were, thought that any other should attempt xii INTRODUCTORY LETTER, the record of that Ufa; no one wlio reads it could wisli that any other had. By natural talent fitted to notice the finer features of character, and to fathom some of its abstruser depths, and by a better taste accustomed to observe the rise and progress of religion in the souls of men, and peculiarly happy in describing things as he sees them, Mr. Bonar is a fit biographer in any case where eminent piety reigned in a delicate and accomplished mind. In the present case, so intimate and like-minded were they, that the narrative derives much of its beauty from the congeniality between the subject and its narrator. The only fault is one, into which a stranger could not have fallen. Some of the more obvious features of Mr. McChey lie's character are hardly noticed. To Mr. Bonar they w^ere so habitual that they had ceased to be observable. They would have impressed a stranger. The ordinary aspect of the man, his in-door life and daily walk, his manner of conversation in the world and among his Christian friends, such scenes as have seldom trans- pired, except in the prayer-meetings and at the com- munions of St. Peter's, more of his sayings and deep remarks on Scripture, and, if possible, more of the special instances of his success in winning souls, we should have gladly obtained, and some of these a dis- tant on-looker would have been apt to give. The work does not absolutely lack these things, and it pos- sesses the surpassing value of revealing the interior growth of that eminent piety which produced his eminent usefulness. And altogether, the memoir is a faithful and affecting record of as beauteous a charac- ter, and as eflective a ministry as He who holds the seven stars has exhibited to the Church in these last days. INTRODUCTORY LETTER. xiii " To give this article a practical tendency, we may be allowed to mention what we believe to have been the secret of Mr. McCheyne' s uncommon usefulness. The subject is seasonable, at this time when so many ministers, and elders, and private Christians are in- quiring by what means they may extend their personal efficiency, and become, in the hands of the Spirit, the agents in adding to the Church of such as shall be saved. From what we know of Mr. McCheyne, and have read in these Memoirs, we are persuaded that next to his habitual dependence on the Spirit of God, the occasion of his uncommon success was the con- sistency and conspicuousness of his Christian char- acter. He lived in the eye of his people. Though his house had been a glass-fronted cabinet, they could scarcely have been more minutely cognizant of his movements and whole manner of life. They knew that his week days were but a sequel to his Sabbaths, and what they saw him in the pulpit, they found him in his study and among his friends, by the way-side, and in their own houses. He was everywhere ' the man of God.' His preaching was impressive, for his life applied it. His every day demeanour exemplified and adorned his doctrine.''* Such is the attestation of the contemporaries and intimate friends of this extraordinary man, who had marked his spirit, and listened to his instructions, in public and in private for years together, in all the vari- ous circumstances which " try men's souls." Can any one who appreciates the value of Christian character, doubt that such an example ought to be portrayed for the benefit of the Church and of the world ; and that * The Presbyterian Review and Rel. Journal, No. LXV. July, 1844. Edinburgh. xiv INTRODUCTORY LETTER. such a spirit ought to be studied as deeply, and recom- mended as widely as possible? One of the most promising and gratifying features in the present aspect of the Free Church of Scotland, and one of the most precious pledgesof the blessing of God on her noble enterprise, is the evident revival of a spirit of vital piety among her members, and especially among her ministers and elders. This revival has gone hand in hand with her faithful struggle for main- taining the truth and order of Christ's house. Nor is the connexion between these two objects of attention either remote or unimportant. For as, on the one hand, the prevalence of vital piety cannot be expected to be found in any church in which the pure doctrines of the gospel are not held fast and faithfully preached ; so, on the other, where a sound faith at present exists, it will assuredly, not long continue to be maintained, after vital piety declines. As men are " sanctified by the truth,''^ so none but sanctified men will be dis- posed for any length of time together, to " contend for the truth'^ and to preach it with simplicity and clearness. In the early history of the Reformed churches of France, we find orthodoxy and vital piety maintaining a joint reign to an extent as benign and happy as in any other portion of Protestant Chris- tendom. One of the first symptoms of a departure from their original purity, was a disposition manifest- ed by some of their ministers of questionable piety, to explain some of the articles of the Confession of Faith which they had solemnly subscribed, in a latitudina- rian manner. Deviation followed deviation; Synodi- cal bodies began to tolerate serious error; an evangeli- cal spi7nt declined with evangelical truth; until, at INTRODUCTORY LETTER. XV length, they ceased to occupy the place and to main- tain the character of" witnesses" for "the faith once delivered to the saints." The history of the Church oi Scotland is in melancholy accordance with the same great principle. With the growth of " Moderatism," orthodoxy and piety sunk together; until " the things which remained were ready to die." At this junc- ture God was pleased to interpose for her help. Faith- ful men were raised up; men " full of faith and of the Holy Ghost;" men who remembered the orthodoxy and piety of their Fathers; men trained in the school of experience and of sound doctrine, and willing to give up all for Christ. The sublime spectacle which these devoted men have since exhibited, in abandoning all the endowments and comforts of the established church, for the sake of fidelity to their Master in hea- ven has been, since the era of its occurrence, the ad- miration and joy of a large part of the Protestant world. Of this blessed revival and triumph of Chris- tian principle, McCheyne and his memoir may be considered at once as a fruit and a specimen. I write these lines, and recommend this work, my dear brother, under the deep impression that we can- not pray for a greater blessing to our beloved Church than that the mantle of this holy man may rest upon all our Pastors and Elders, exciting them to the zeal, the unceasing diligence, and the entire consecration to their Master in heaven which were so conspicuous in his short course. We need — greatly need large additions to the number of our ministers ; but we still more urgently need a higher standard of piety among those that we have. Often, in reading this delightful memoir, have I said to myself, " 0, if all the Pastors Xvi INTRODUCTORY LETTER. of our Church, or a large portion of them, were such as McCheyne, as dead to the world as he was; as full of sanctified unceasing ardour to do good to the souls of men ; as watchful to instruct and edify the young and the old; as much like Christ in all their habits and efforts — what a different aspect would our portion of the religious community wear? How much more elevated would be the eloquence of our pulpits! An eloquence not growing out of the principles and rules of art, but governed and animated by that heart-felt sense of the infinite importance and preciousness of evangelical truth which never fails to reach the heart. How much more frequent would be revivals of reli- gion ! or rather, how much would most of our con- gregations resemble that of the subject of this memoir, in which those who knew it best have told us there was a gentle, noiseless, but almost constant awaken- ing ! If such men presided over all our churches, what a hallowed impulse would be given to the mis- sionary cause, and to all the scriptural plans for dif- fusing the knowledge of salvation throughout the world! How easy would it be to do without joi^^//c agents for stirring up the people to sustain the cause of Christian benevolence! The Pastor and the Elder- ship of every church would be a source of hallowed influence in regard to that great cause, adapted under God, to keep every church awake and alive to its claims. McCheyne, while he lived needed no body to come in and remind the people of his charge, that the church was bound to send the gospel to every crea- ture; and that every individual member of the church was under obligation to take an active part in this work. The habitual preaching, the public and private INTRODUCTORY LETTER. xvii prayers, and the daily example of this heavenly minded pastor were at once a constant memento of their duty, and a powerful stimulus to its performance. While I lament that there is not more of this spirit reigning among the ministers and elders, and mem- bers of our beloved church, I consider the appearance and the popularity of such works as this memoir, as a pledge that the gracious King of Zion will revive us. Some of us who are old and grey-headed, and have been permitted to preach the gospel for more than half a century, so far as the eye of man can discern, have been instrumental in winning much fewer souls, and have done far, far less for the honour of our blessed Master, than this youthful servant of Christ in a ministry of less than a fifth part of the same length. Surely the contemplation of such a portrait as that presented in this memoir, ought to fill us with humiliation and shame. My hope is, that the great Head of the Church will speedily raise up a race of ministers more holy, more zealous, more wise, more diligent, and more entirely devoted to their work than their fathers have ever been. Blessed day ! when the watchmen on the walls of Zion " shall never hold their peace day nor night ; when they that make mention of the Lord shall not keep silence, nor give Him any rest, until he establish and make Jerusalem a praise in the earth ; until the righteousness thereof go forth as brightness, and the salvation thereof as a lamp that burneth." Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly thus to bless thy church and people ; even so, come. Lord Jesus ! With fervent prayers that we may all lay to heart our Xviii INTRODUCTORY LETTER. duty and our responsibility more deeply than we have ever yet done, I am, Rev. and Dear Brother, Your fellow servant In the Gospel of Christ, SAMUEL MILLER. Princeton, September 19, 1844. MEMOIR, &c. CHAPTER I. HIS YOUTH, AND PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY. Many shall rejoice at his birth ; for he shall be great in the sight of the Lord. — Luke i. 14. In the midst of the restless activity of such a day as ours, it will be felt by ministers of Christ to be useful, in no common degree, to trace the steps of one who but lately left us, and who, during the last years of his short life, walked calmly in almost unbroken fel- lowship with the Father and the Son. The date of his birth was May 21, 1813. About that time, (it is now evident to us who can look back on the past,) the Great Head had a purpose of blessing for the Church of Scotland. Eminent men of God appeared to plead the cause of Christ. The cross was lifted up boldly in the midst of Church Courts which had long been ashamed of the Gospel of Christ. More spirituality and deeper seriousness began a few years onward to prevail among the youth of our divinity halls. In the midst of such events, whereby the Lord was secretly preparing a rich blessing for souls in all our borders, the subject of this memoir was born. "Many were to rejoice at his birth;" for he was one of the blessings which were beginning to be dropped down upon Scotland, though none then knew that one was born whom hundreds would look up to as their spiritual father. The place of his birth was Edinburgh, where his 1 2 MEMOIR OF THE parents resided. He was the youngest child of the family, and was called Robert Murray, after the name of some of his kindred. From his infancy his sweet and affectionate temper was remarked by all who knew him. His mind was quick in its attainments; he was easily taught the common lessons of youth, and some of his peculiar endowments began early to appear. At the age of four, while recovering from some illness, he selected as his recreation the study of the Greek alphabet, and was able to name all the letters, and write them in a rude way upon a slate. A year after, he made rapid progress in the English class, and at an early period became somewhat eminent among his school- fellows for his melodious voice and powers of recita- tion. There were at that time catechetical exercises held in the Tron Church, in the interval between ser- mons; and some friends remember the interest often excited in the hearers by his correct and sweet recita- tion of the Psalms and passages of Scripture. But as yet he knew not the Lord; he lived to himself, "hav- ing no hope, and without God in the world." (Eph. ii. 12.) In October 1821, he entered the High School, where he continued his literary studies during the usual period of six years. He maintained a high place in his classes ; and, in the Rector's class, distin- guished himself by eminence in geography and reci- tation. It was during the last year of his attendance at the High School that he first ventured on poetical composition, the subject being, " Greece, but living Greece no more." The lines are characterized chiefly by enthusiasm for libert}^ and Grecian heroism, for in these days his soul had never soared to a higher re- gion. His companions speak of him as one who had even then peculiarities that drew attention — of a light, tall form — full of elasticity and vigour — ambitious, yet noble in his dispositions, disdaining every thing iike meanness or deceit. Some would have been apt to regard him as exhibiting many traits of a Christian character ; but his susceptible mind had not, at that REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 3 time, a relish for any higher joy than the refined gaieties of society, and for such pleasures as the song and the dance could yield. He himself regarded these as days of ungodUness — days wherein he cherished a pure morality, but lived in heart a Pharisee. I have heard him say that there was a correctness and pro- priety in his demeanour at tinres of devotion, and in pubhc worship, which some, who knew not his heart, were ready to put to the account of real feeling. And this experience of his own heart made him look with jealousy on the mere outward signs of devotion, in dealing with souls. He had learned in his own case how much a soul, unawakened to a sense of guilt, may have satisfaction in performing, from the proud consciousness of integrity towards man, and a senti- mental devotedness of mnnd that chastens the feelings without changing the heart. He had great delight in rural scenery. Most of his summer vacations used to be spent in Dumfriesshire, and his friends in the parish of Ruth well and its vicinity retain a vivid remembrance of his youthful days. His poetic temperament led him to visit what- ever scenes were fitted to stir the soul. At all periods of his life, also, he had a love of enterprise. During the summer months he occasionally made excursions with his brother, or some intimate friend, to visit the lakes and hills of our Highlands, cherishing thereby, unawares, a fondness for travel, that was most useful to him in after days. In one of these excursions, a somewhat romantic occurrence befel tlie travellers, such as we might rather have expected to meet with in the records of his Eastern journey. He and his friend had set out on foot to explore, at their leisure, Dunkeld and the highlands in its vicinity. They spent a day at Dunkeld, and about sunset set out again with the view of crossing the hills to Strathardle. A dense mist spread over the hills soon after they bes^an to chmb. They pressed on, but lost the track that might have guided them safely to the glen. They knew not how to direct their steps to any dwelling. Night came on^ and they had no resource but to couch 4 MEMOIR OF THE among the heath, with no other covering than the clothes they wore. They felt hungry and cold; and, awaking at midnight, the awful stillness of the lonely mountains spread a strange fear over them. But, drawing close together, they again lay down to rest, and slept soundly till the cry of some wild birds and the morning dawn aroused them. Entering the Edinburgh University in November, 1827, he gained some prize in all the various classes he attended. In private he studied the modern lan- guages ; and gymnastic exercises at that time gave him unbounded delight. He used his pencil with much success, and then it was that his hand was pre- pared for sketching the scenes of the Holy Land. He had a very considerable knowledge of music, and him- self sang correctly and beautifully. This, too, was a gift which was used to the glory of the Lord in after days — wonderfully enlivening his secret devotions, and enabling him to lead the song of praise in the con- gregation wherever occasion required. Poetry also was a never-failing recreation; and his taste in this department drew the attention of Professor Wilson, who adjudged him the prize in the Moral Philosophy class for a poem, " On the Covenanters." In the autumn of 1831, he commenced his studies in the Divinity Hall, under Dr. Chalmers; and the study of Church History under Dr. Welsh. It may be naturally asked, What led him to wish to preach salvation to his fellow-sinners? Could he say, like Robert Bruce, " / ivas first called to my grace, be- fore I obeyed my calling to the ministry)^^ Few questions are more interesting than this ; and our answer to it will open up some of the wonderful ways of Him " whose path is in the great waters, and whose footsteps are not known;" (Psalm Ixxvi. 19:) for the same event that awakened his soul to a true sense of sin and misery, led him to the ministry. Tliere can be no doubt that the death of his eldest brother, David, was the event which awoke him from the sleep of nature, and brought in the first beam of divine light into his soul. By that providence the REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 5 Lord was calling one soul to enjoy the treasures of grace, while he took the other into the possession of glory. In this brother, who was his senior by eight or nine years, the light of divine grace shone before men with rare and solemn loveliness. His classical attainments were very high; and, after the usual preliminary studies, he had been admitted Writer to the Signet. One distinguishing quality of his character was his sensitive truthfulness. In a moment would the shadow flit across his brow, if any incident were related where- in there was the slightest exaggeration ; or even when nothing but truth was spoken, if only the deliverer seemed to take up a false or exaggerated view. He must not merely speak the whole truth himself, but he must have the hearer also to apprehend the whole truth. He spent much of his leisure hours in attend- ing to the younger members of the family: tender and affectionate, his grieved look, (it is said,) when they vexed him by resisting his counsels, had something in it so persuasive that it never failed in the end to pre- vail on those with whom his words had not succeeded. His youngest brother, at a time when he lived accord- ing to the course of this world, was the subject of many of his fervent prayers. But a deep melancholy, in a great degree the effect of bodily ailments, settled down on David's soul. Many weary months did he spend in awful gloom, till the trouble of his soul wasted away his body; but the light broke in before his death; joy, from the face of a fully reconciled Father above, lighted up his face ; and the peace of his last days was the sweet consolation left to his afflicted friends, when, July Sth, 1S31, he fell asleep in Jesus. The death of this brother, with all its circumstances, was used by the Holy Spirit to produce a deep im- pression on Robert's soul. In many respects — even in the gifts of poetic mind — there had been a conge- niality between him and David. The vivacity of Robert's ever active and lively mind, was the chief point of difference. This vivacity admirably fitted 1* 6 MEMOIR OF THE him for public life; it needed only to be chastened and solemnized, and the event that had now occurred wrought this effect. A few months before, the happy family circle had been broken up by the departure of the second brother for India, in the Bengal Medical Service; but when, in the course of the summer, David was removed from them for ever, there were impressions left such as could never be effaced, at least from the mind of Robert. Naturally of an in- tensely affectionate disposition, this stroke moved his whole soul. His quiet hours seem to have been often spent in thoughts of him who was now gone to glory. There are some lines remaining in which his poetic mind has most touchingly, and with uncommon vig- our, painted him whom he had lost — lines all the more interesting, because the delineation of character and form which they contain, cannot fail to call up to those who knew him the image of the author himself. Sometime after his brother's death, he had tried to preserve the features of his well-remembered form, by attempting a portrait from memory; but, throwing aside the pencil in despair, he took up the pen and poured out the fulness of his heart, ON PAIJS'TING THE MINIATURE LIKENESS OF ONE DEPARTED. Alas ! not perfect yet — another touch, And still another, and another still, Till those dull lips breathe life, and yonder eye Lose its lack-lustre hue, and be lit up With the warm glance of living feeling. No — It never can be ! Ah, poor, powerless art ! Most vaunting yet most impotent, thou seek'st To trace the thousand, thousand shades and lights That glowed conspicuous on the blessed face Of him thou fain would'st imitate — to bind Down to the fragile canvass the wild play Of thought and mild affection, which were wont To dwell in the serious eye, and play around The placid mouth. Thou seek'st to give again That which the burning soul, inhabiting Its clay-built tenement, alone can give — To leave on cold, dead matter the impress Of living mind — to bid a line, a shade, Speak forth, not words, but the soft intercourse Which the immortal spirit, while on earth REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. It tabernacles, breathes from every pore — Thoughts not converted into words, and hopes, And fears, and hidden joys, and griefs, unborn Into the world of sound, but beaming forth In that expression which no words, or work Of cunning artist, can express. In vain, Alas ! in vain ! Come hither, Painter ; come Take up once more thine instruments — thy brush And palette — if thy haughty art be, as thou say'st. Omnipotent, and if thy hand can dare To wield creative power. Renew thy toil. And let my memory, vivified by love, Which Death's cold separation has but warmed, And rendered sacred, dictate to thy skill, And guide thy pencil. From the jetty hair Take off that gaudy lustre that but mocks The true original ; and let the dry, Soft, gently-turning locks, appear instead. What though to fasliion's garish eye they seem Untutored and ungainly — gtill to me, Than folly's foppish head-gear, lovelier far Are they, because bespeaking mental toil, Labour assiduous, through the golden days (Golden if so improved) of guileless youth, Unwearied mining in tlie precious stores Of classic lore — and better, nobler still, In God's own holy writ. And scatter here And there a thread of grey, to mark the grief That prematurely checked the bounding flow Of the warm current in liis veins, and shed An early twilight o'er so bright a dawn. No wrinkle sits upon that brow ! — and thus It ever was. The angry strife and cares Of avaricious miser did not leave Tlieir base memorial on so fair a page. The eye-brows next draw closer down, and throw A softening shade o'er the mild orbs below. Let the full eye-lid, drooping, half conceal The back-retiring eye ; and point to eajth The long brown lashes that bespeak a soul Like his who said, " I am not worthy, Lord !" From underneath these lowly turning lids, Let not shine forth the gaily sparkling light Which dazzles oft and oft deceives — nor yet The dull unmeaning lustre that can gaze Alike on all the world. But paint an eye In whose half-hidden, steady light I read A truth-inquiring mind; a fancy, too, That could array in sweet poetic garb The truth he found ; while on his artless harp He touched the gentlest feelings, which the blaze 8 MEMOIR OF THE Of winter's hearth warms in the homely heart. And oh I recall the look of faith sincere, With which that eye would scrutinize the page Tliat tells us of offended God appeased By awful sacrifice upon the cross Of Calvary — that bids us leave a world Immersed in darkness and in death, and seek A better country. Ah ! how oft that eye Would turn on me, with pity's tenderest look, And, only half-upbraiding-, bid me flee From the vain idols of my boyish heart ! It was about the same time, while still feeling the sadness of this bereavement, that he wrote the follow- ing fragment, entitled THE RIGHTEOUS PERISHETH, AXD NO MAN LAVETH IT TO HEART. Isaiah Ivii. 1. A grave I know Where earthly show Is not — a mound Whose gentle round Sustains the load Of a fresh sod. Its shape is rude, And v/eeds intrude Their yellow flowers — In gayer bowers Unknown. The grass A tufted mass. Is rank and strong — Unsmoothed and long. No rosebud there Embalms the air ; No lily chaste Adorns the waste, Nor daisy's head Bedecks the bed. No myrtles wave Above that grave; Nor heather bell Is there to tell Of gentle friend Who sought to lend A sweeter sleep To him who deep Beneatli the ground Repose has found. No stone of wo Is there to show The name, or tell How passing well He loved his God, And how he trod The humble road That leads through sorrow To a bright morrow. Unknown in life. And far from strife. He lived ; — and though The magic flow Of genius played Around his head, And he could weave " The song at eve," And toucli the heart, W' itli gentlest art ; Or cares beguile. And draw the smile Of peace from those Who wept their woes ;— Yet when the love Of Christ above To guilty men Was shown him — then He left llie joys Of worldly noise. And humbly laid His drooping head Upon the cross ; And thought the loss Of all tliat earth Contained — of mirth. Of loves, and fame. And pleasure's name — No sacrifice REV. R. M McCHEYNE. To win the prize, Which Christ secured, When he endured For us the load — The wrath of God ! With many a tear, And many a fear, With many a sigh And heart-wrung cry Of timid faith, He sought the Breath, But which can give The power to Hve — Whose word alone Can melt the stone, Bid tumult cease. And all be peace ! He sought not now To wreath his brow With laurel bough. He sought no more To gather store Of earthly lore. Nor vainly strove To share the love Of heaven above. With aught below That earth can show. The smile forsook His cheek — his look Was cold and sad ; And even the glad Return of morn. When the ripe corn Waves o'er the plains, And simple swains With joy prepare The toil to share Of harvest, brought No lively thought To him. ^ ^ ^ rf: And spring adorns The sunny morns With opening flowers ; And beauty showers O'er lawn and mead ; Its virgin head The snow-drop steeps In dew, and peeps The crocus forth. Nor dreads the north — But even the spring No smile can brinar o To hjm, whose eye Souglit in the sky For brighter scenes. Where intervenes No darkening cloud Of sin to shroud The gazer's view. Thus sadly flew The merry spring; And gaily sing The birds their loves In summer groves. But not for him Their notes they trim. His ear is cold — His tale is told. Above his grave The grass may wave — * * # * The crowd pass by Without a sigh Above the spot. They knew him not — They could not know; And even though. Why should they shed Above the dead Who slumbers here A single tear? I cannot weep, Though in my sleep I sometimes clasp. With love's fond grasp. His gentle hand, And see him stand Beside my bed. And lean his head Upon my breast, And bid me rest Nor night nor day Till I can say That I have found The holy ground In which there lies The Pearl of Price- Till all the ties The soul that bind. And all the lies The soul that blind, Be * * * 10 MEMOIR OF THE Nothing could more fully prove the deep impres- sion which the event made than these verses. But it was not a transient regret, nor was it the ''sorrow of the world." He was in his eighteenth year when his brother died: and if this was not the year of his new birth, at least it was the year when the first streaks of dawn appeared in his soul. From that day for- ward, his friends observed a change. His poetry was pervaded with serious thought, and all his pursuits began to be followed out in another spirit. He en- gaged in the labours of a Sabbath school, and began to seek God to his soul, in the diligent reading of the word, and attendance on a faitliful ministry. How important this period of his life appeared in his own view, may be gathered from his allusions to it in later days. A year after, he writes in his diary, " On this morning last year came the first overwhelm- ing blow to my worldliness; how blessed to me, thou, O God, only knowest, who hast made it so." Every year he marked this day as one to be remembered, and occasionally its recollections seem to have come in like a flood. In a letter to a friend (July 8th, 1842,) upon a matter entirely local, he concludes by a post- script — "This day eleven years ago, my holy brother David entered into his rest, aged twenty-six." And on that same day, writing a note to one of his flock in Dundee, (who had asked him to furnish a preface to a work printed 1740, ^^ Letters on Spiritual Sub- jects,^') he commends the book, and adds — " Pray for me, that I may be made holier and wiser — less like myself, and more like my heavenly Master; that I may not regard my life, if so be I may finish my course with joy. This day eleven years ago, I lost my loved and loving brother, and began to seek a Brother who cannot die." It was to companions who could sympathize in his feelings, that he unbosomed himself. At that period it was not common for inquiring souls to carry their case to their pastor. A conventional reserve upon these subjects prevailed even among lively believers. This he felt to be so great an evil, that, in after days, REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. H he was careful to encourage anxious souls to converse with him freely. The nature of his experience, how- ever, we have some means of knowing. On one occasion, a few of us who had studied together were reviewing the Lord's dealings with om' souls, and how he had brought us to himself, all very nearly at the same time, though without any special instrumen- talit3^ He stated that there was nothing sudden in his case, and that he was led to Christ through deep and ever-abiding, but not awful or distracting convic- tions. In this we see the Lord's sovereignty. In bringing a soul to the Saviour, the Holy Spirit inva- riably leads it to very deep consciousness of sin; but then he causes this consciousness of sin to be more distressing and intolerable to some than to others. But in one point does the experience of all believing sinners agree in this matter — viz. their soul presented to their view nothing but an abyss of sin, when the grace of God, that bringeth salvation, appeared. The Holy Spirit carried on his work in the subject of this memoir, by continuing to deepen in him the conviction of his ungodliness, and the pollution of his whole nature. And all his life long, he viewed his original sin, not as an excuse for his actual sins, but as an aggravation of them all. In this view he was of the mind of David, taught by the unerring Spirit of Truth. (See Psalm li. 4, 5.) At first the light dawned slowly; so slowly, that, for a considerable time, he still relished an occasional plunge into scenes of gaiety. Even after entering the Divinity Hall, he could be persuaded to indulge in lighter pursuits, at least during the first two years of his attendance; but it was with growing alarm. When hurried away by such worldly joys, I find him writing thus : — ^' Sept. 14. — May there be few such records as this in my biography." Then, ^^ Dec. 9 — A thorn in my side — much torment." As the unholiness of his pleasures became more apparent, he writes : — - "ii/«rcA ,10th, 1832 — I hope never to play cards again." March 25th — Never visit on a Sunday evening again." ^^pril 10th — Absented myself from 12 MEMOIR OF THE the dance ; iipbraidings ill to bear. But I must try to bear the cross." It seems to be in reference to the receding tide, which thns for a season repeatedly drew him back to the world, that on July 8th, 1836, he records — " This morning five years ago, my dear brother David died, and my heart for the first time knew true bereavement. Trnly it was all well. Let me be dumb, for thou didst it; and it was good for me that I was afflicted. I know not that any pro- vidence was ever more abused by man than that was by me; and yet, Lord, what mountains thou comest over ! none was ever more blessed to me." To us who can look at the results, it appears probable that the Lord permitted him thus to try many broken cis- terns, and to taste the wormwood of many earthly streams, in order that in after days, by the side of the fountain of living waters, he might point to the world he had for ever left, and testify the surpassing pre- ciousness of what he had now found. Mr. Alexander Somerville (afterwards minister of Anderston Church, Glasgow), was his familiar friend and companion in the gay scenes of his youth. And he, too, about this time, having been brought to taste the powers of the world to come, they united their efforts for each other's welfare. They met together for the study of the Bible, and used to exercise them- selves in the Septuagint Greek and the Hebrew ori- ginal. But oftener still, they met for prayer and solemn converse; and carrying on all their studies in the same spirit, watched each other's steps in the nar- row way. He thought himself much profited, at this period, by investigating the subject of Election, and the Free Grace of God. But it was the reading of" The Sum of Savhig Kuoivledge,^^*' generally appended to our Confession of Faith, that brought him to a clear un- derstanding of the way of acceptance with God. Those who are acquainted with its admirable state- ments of truth, will see how well fitted it was to direct an inquiring soul. I find him some years afterwards * This lias been published, in a small volume, by the Presbyterian Board of Publication. — Am. Ed. REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 13 recording: — March 11th, 1S34 — Read in the ^ Sum of Saving Knowledge,' the work which I tliink first of all wrought a saving change in me. How gladly would I renew the reading of it, if that change might be carried on to perfection.'' It will be observed that he never reckoned his soul saved, notwithstanding all his convictions and views of sin, until he really went into the Holiest of All on the warrant of the Re- deemer's work; for assuredly a sinner is still under wrath, until he has actually availed himself of the way to the Father opened up by Jesus. All his knowledge of his sinfulness, and all his sad feeling of his own need and danger, cannot place him one step further off from the lake of fire. It is " he that comes to Christ" that is saved. Before this period, he had received a bias towards the ministry from his brother David, who used to speak of the ministry as the most blessed work on earth, and often expressed the greatest delight in the hope that his younger brother might one day become a minister of Christ. And now, with altered views — with an eye that could gaze on heaven and hell, and a heart that felt the love of a reconciled God, he sought to become a herald of salvation. He had begun to keep a register of his studies, and the manner in which his time slipped away, some months before his brother's death. For a consider- able time this register contains almost nothing but the bare incidents of the diary, and on Sabbaths the texts of the sermons he had heard. There is one gleam of serious thought — but it is the only one — during that period. On occasion of Dr. Andrew Thompson's funeral, he records the deep and universal grief that pervaded the town, and then subjoins — "Pleasing to see so much public feeling excited on the decease of so worthy a man. How much are the times changed within these eighteen centuries, since the time when Joseph besought the body in secret, and when he and Nicodemus were the only ones found to bear the body to the tomb." It is in the end of the year that evidences of a 14 MEMOIR OF THE change appear. From that period, and ever onward, his dry register of every-day incidents is varied with such passages as the following : '^November 12. — Reading H. Martyn's Memoirs. Would I could imitate him, giving up father, mother, country, house, health, life, all, for Christ. And yet, what hinders ? Lord, purify me, and give me strength to dedicate myself, my all, to thee !" '•'December 4. — Reading Legh Richmond's Life. Poenitentia profunda, non sine lacrymis. Nunquam me ipsum, tam vilem, tam inutilem, tam pauperem, et prsecipue tam ingratum, adhuc vidi. vSint lacrymcc dedicationis mea3 pignora!' ["Deep penitence, not unmixed with tears. I never before saw myself so vile, so useless, so poor, and, above all, so ungrate- ful. May these tears be the pledges of my self- dedication.^'] There is frequently at this period a sentence in Latin occurring like the above, in the midst of other matter, apparently with the view of giving freer expression to his feelings, regarding him- self. *' Dec. 9. — Heard a street-preacher : foreign voice. Seems really in earnest. He quoted the striking pass- age, ^The Spirit and the bride say, Come, and let him that heai^ethsay, Come.^ From this he seems to derive his authority. Let me learn from this man to be in earnest for the truth, and to despise the scoffing of the world." ''Dec. IS. — After spending an evening too lightly, he writes — " My heart must break off from all these things. What right have I to steal and abuse my Master's time? 'Redeem it,' he is crying to me." "Dec. 25. — My mind not yet calmly fixed on the Rock of Ages." "January 12. 1832. — Cor non pacem habet. — Quare? Peccatum apud fores manet." [" My heart has not peace. Why? Sin lieth at my door."] "Jan. 25. — A lovely day. Eighty-four cases of cholera at Musselburgh. How it creeps nearer and nearer, like a snake. Who will be the first victim here? Let thine everlasting arms be around us, and we shall be safe." REV. R. M. McCHEYXE. 15 -1^ '^ Jan. 29. Sabbath — Afternoon, heard Mr. Bruce, (then minister of the New North Church, Edinburgh) on iNIalachi i. 1-6. It constitutes the very gravamen of the charge against the unrenewed man, that he has affection for his earthly parent, and reverence for his earthly master; but none for God! Most noble dis- course." ^'February 2. — Not a trait worth remembering! And yet these four-and-twenty hours must be ac- counted for." Feb. 5. Sabbath. — In the afternoon, having heard the late Mr. Martin, of St. George's,* he writes, on returning home — " quam humilem, sed quam dili- gentissimum ; quam dejectum, sed quam vigilem, quam die noctuque precantem, decet me esse quum tales viros aspicio. Juva, Pater, Fill, et Spiritus!" ['' how humble yet how diligent, how lowly yet how watchful, how prayerful night and day it becomes me to be, when I see such men. Help, Father, Son, and Spirit!"] From this date he seems to have sat, along with his friend Mr. Somerville, almost entirely under Mr. Bruce's ministry. He took copious notes of his lec- tures and sermons, which still remain among his papers. '^Feb. 28. — Sober conversation. Fain would I turn to the most interesting of all subjects. Cowardly backwardness: 'For whosoever is ashamed of me and my words,' " &c. At this time, hearing, concerning a friend of the family, that she had said, " that she was deter 'Hfiined to keep by the ivorld,''^ he penned the following lines on her melancholy decision : She has chosen the world, And its paltry crowd, — She has chosen the world, And an endless shroud I She has chosen the world, With its misnamed pleasures : She has chosen the world, Before heaven's own treasures. * He says of him on anotlier occasion, June 6, 1834 — "A man greatly beloved, of whom the world was not worthy." " An apostolic man." His own calm, deep holiness, resembled in many respects Mr. Martin's daily walk. 16 MEMOIR OF THE She hath launched her boat On life's giddy sea, And her all is afloat For eternity. But Bethlehem's star Is not in her view; And her aim is far From the harbour true. When the storm descends From an angry sky, Ah I where from the winds Shall the vessel fly ? When the stars are concealed, And the rudder gone, And heaven is sealed To the wandering one ! The whirlpool opes For the gallant prize ; And, with all her hopes. To the deep she hies I But who may tell Of the place of wo, Where the wicked dwell — Where the worldlings go'? For the human heart Can ne'er conceive What joys are the part Of them who believe; Nor can justly tliink Of the cup of death Which all must drink Who despise the faith. Away, then — O I fly From the joys of earth I Her smile is a lie — There's a sting in her mirth. Come, leave the dreams Of this transient night. And bask in the beams Of an endless light. " March 6. — Wild wind and rain all day long. Hebrew class — psalms. New beauty in the original every time I read. Dr. Welsh — lecture on PUny's letter about the Christians of Bithynia. Professor Jameson on quartz. Dr. Chalmers grappling with Hume's arguments. Evening—Notes and little else. Mind and body dull.'' This is a specimen of his re- gister of daily study. March 20 — After a few sentences in Latin, con- cluding with, " In meam animam veni, Domine Dens omnipotens," he writes, " Leaning on a staff of my own devising, it betrayed me, and broke under me. It was not thy staff. Resolving to be a god, thou showedst me that I was but a man. But my own st^if being broken, why may I not lay hold of thine? — Read part of the life of Jonathan Edwards. How feeble does my spark of Christianity appear beside such a sun! But even his was a borrowed light, and the same source is still open to enlighten me. " April 8. — Have found much rest in Him who bore all our burdens for us." " *^2^ril 26. — To-night I ventured to break the ice REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. I7 of unchristian silence. Why should not selfishness be buried beneath the Atlantic in matters so sacred?" May 6. — Saturday evening. — This was the evening previous to the Communion, and in prospect of again declaring himself the Lord's, at his table, he enters into a brief review of his state. He had partaken of the ordinance in jNIay of the year before for the first time; but he was then living at ease, and saw not the solemn nature of the step he took. He now sits down and reviews the past: ^' What a mass of corruption have I been I How great a portion of my life have I spent wholly with- out God in the world; given up to sense and the per- ishine thinojs around me. Naturallv of a feelinof and sentimental disposition, how much of my religion has been, and to this day is, tinged wi^h these colours of earth ! Restrained from open vice by educational views and the fear of man, how much ungodliness has reisned within me! How often has it broken through all restraints, and come out in the shape of lusts and anger, mad ambition, and unhallowed words! Though my vice was always refined, yet how subtile and how awfully prevalent it was ! How complete a test was the Sabbath — spent in weariness, as much of it as was given to God's service ! How I polluted it by my hypocrisies, my self-conceits, my worldly thoughts, and worldly friends! How formally and unheedingly the Bible was read— ^how little was read — so little that even now I have not read it all! How unboundedly was the wild impulse of the heart obey- ed ! How much more was the creature loved than the Creator !— =,^0 great God, that didst suffer me to hve whilst I so dishonoured thee, thou knowest the whole; and it was thy hand alone that could awaken me from the death in which I was, and was contented to be. Gladly would I have escaped from the Shep- herd that sought me as I strayed ; but he took me up in his arms and carried me back ; and yet he took me not for any thing that was in me. I was no more fit for his service than the Australian, and no more 2^ IS MEMOIR OF THE worthy to be called and chosen. Yet, why should I doubt? not God's unwillingness, not his ability — of both I am assured. But, perhaps, my old sins are too fearful, and my unbelief too glaring. Nay; I come to Christ not although I am a sinner, but just hecaiise I am a sinner, even the chief.'' He then adds, " And though sentiment and constitutional enthusiasm may have a great effect on me, still I be- lieve that my soul is in sincerity desirous and earnest about having all its concerns at rest with God and Christ — that his kingdom occupies the most part of all my thoughts, and even of my long-polluted affections. Not unto me, not unto me, be the shadow of praise or of merit ascribed, but let all glory be given to thy most holy name! As surely as thou didst make the mouth with which I pray, so surely dost thou prompt every prayer of faith which I utter. Thou hast made me all that I am, and given me all that I have." Next day, after communicating, he writes: " I well remember when I was an enemy, and especially ab- horred this ordinance as binding me down ; but if I be bound to Christ in heart, I shall not dread any band that can draw me close to him." Evenins:. — "Much peace. Look back, my soul, and view the mind that belonged to thee but twelve months ago — my soul, thy place is in the dust!" ''May 19. — Thought with more comfort than usual of being a witness for Jesus in a foreign land." ''June 4. — Walking with A. Somerville by Craig- leith. Conversing on missions. If I am to go to the heathen to speak of the unsearchable riches of Christ, this one thing must be given me, to be out of the reach of the baneful influence of esteem or contempt. If worldly motives go with me, I shall never convert a soul, and shall lose my own in the labour." " June 22.— Variety of studies. Septuagint trans- lation of Exodus, and Vulgate. Bought Edwards' works. Drawing— Truly there was nothing in me that should have induced God to choose me. I was REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. I9 but as the other brands upon whom the fire is ah'eady kindled, wliich shall burn for evermore! And as soon could the billet leap from the hearth and become a green tree, as my soul could have sprung to new- ness of life." June 25. — In reference to the office of the holy ministry: "How apt are we to lose our hours in the vainest babblings, as do the world! How can this be with those chosen for the mighty office, fellow- w^orkers with God, heralds of his son, evangelists, men set apart to the work, chosen out of the chosen, as it were the very pick of the flocks, who are to shine as the stars for ever and ever ? Alas, alas ! my soul, where shalt thou appear ? Lord God, I am a little child ! But thou wilt send an angel with a live coal from off the altar, and touch my unclean lips, and put a tongue within my dry mouth, so that I shall say with Isaiah, ^Here am I; send me.'" Then, after reading a little of Edwards' works, "0 that heart and understanding may grow together, like brother and sister, leaning on one another." '-June 27. — Life of David Brainerd. Most won- derful man ! What conflicts, what depressions, de- sertions, strength, advancement, victories, within thy torn bosom ! I cannot express what I feel when I think of thee. To-night, more set upon missionary enterprise than ever. "' June 28. — for Brainerd's humility and sin- loathing disposhions !" '^ June 30. — Much carelessness, sin and sorrow. wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from this body of sin and death? Enter thou, my soul, into the rock, and hide thee in the dust for fear of the Lord and the glory of his majesty." And then he writes a few verses, of which the following are some stanzas : "I will arise and seek my God, " And bowed down beneath my load. Lay all my sins before him ; Then he will wash my soul from sin, And put a new heart me within, And teach me to adore him. 20 MEMOIR OF THE "O ye that fain would find the J03' — The only one that wants alloy — Wliich never is deceiving; Come to the Well of Life with me, And drink, as it is proffered, free, The gospel draught receiving. " I come to Christ, because I know The very worst are called to go: And when in faith I find him, I'll walk in liim, and lean on him. Because I cannot move a limb Until he say, 'Unbind him.' " ^^ July o, — This last bitter root of worldliness that has so often betrayed me has this night so grossly, that I cannot but regard it as God's chosen way to make me loathe and forsake it for ever. I would vow; but it is much more like a weakly worm to pray. Sit in the dust, my soul!" I believe he was enabled to keep his resolution. Once only, in in the end of this year, was he again led back to gaiety; but it was the last time. '^July 7. — Saturday.— After finishing my usual studies, tried to fast a little, with much prayer and earnest seeking of God's face, remembering what occurred this night last year." ^^July 22. — Had this evening a more complete understanding of that self-emptying and abasement with Avhich it is necessary to come to Christ — a deny- ing of self, trampling it under foot — a recognizing of the complete righteousness and justice of God, that could do nothing else with us but condemn us utterly, and thrust us down to tlie lowest hell, — a feeling that, even in hell, we should rejoice in his sovereignty and say that all was rightly done." '^August 15. — Little done, and as little suiTered. Awfully important question — Am I redeeming the lime V 'yAug. IS, — Heard of the death of James Somer- ville"^ by fever, induced by cholera. God, thy * Son of the minister of Drummelzier — very promising and very amiable. REV. R. M. McCHEYXE. 21 ways and thoughts are not as ours ! He had preach- ed his first sermon. I saw him last on Friday, 27th July, at the College gate; shook hands; and Uttle thought I was to see him no more on earth." "•September 2. — Sabbath evening. — Reading. Too much engrossed, and too httle devotional. Prepara- tion for a fall. Warning. We may be too engrossed with the shell even of heavenly things.'^ ''Sept. 9. — 0! for true, unfeigned humility! I know I have cause to be humble ; and yet I do not know one half of that cause. I know I am proud ; and yet I do not know the half of that pride." ''Sept. 30. — Somewhat straitened by loose Sabbath observance. Best way is to be explicit and manly." "November 1. — More abundant longings for the work of the ministry. that Christ would but count me faithful, that a dispensation of the Gospel might be committed to me !" And then he adds, " Much peace. Peaceful., because believing.^^ December 2. — Hitherto he used to spend much of the Sabbath evening in extending his notes of Mr. Bruce 's sermons ; but now, " Determined to be brief with these for the sake of a more practical, medita- tive, resting, sabbatical evening." "Dec. 11. — Mind quite unfitted for devotion. Pray- erless prayer." "Dec. 31. — God has in this past year introduced me to the preparation of the ministry — I bless him for that. He has helped me to give up much of my shame to name his name, and be on his side, especially before particular friends — I bless him for that. He has taken conclusively away friends that might have been a snare — must have been a stumbhn2:-block — I bless him for that. He has introduced me to one Christian friend, and sealed more and more my amity with another — I bless him for that." January 23. 1833. — On this day it had been the custom of his brother David to write a " Carmen Natale" on their father's birth-day. Robert took up the domestic song this year ; and, in doing so, makes some beautiful and tender allusions. 22 MEMOIR OF THE " Ah I where is the harp that was strung- to thy praise, So ofl and so sweetly in happier days ? When the tears that we shed were the tears of our joy, And the pleasures of home were unmixed with alloy ? ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ' Though he sparkled the gem in our circle of love, He is even more prized in the circles above. And though sweetly he sung of his father on earth, When this day would inspire him with tenderest mirth, Yet a holier tone to his harp is now given, As he s'uiirs to his unborn Father in heaven.'''* Fehruary 3. — Writing to a medical friend of his brother William's, he says — " I remember long ago a remark you once made to William, which has some- how or other stuck in my head, viz., that medical men ought to make a distinct study of the Bible, purely for the sake of administering conviction and consolation to their patients. I think you also said that you had actually begun with that view. Such a determination, though formed in youth, is one which I trust riper years w^ill not make you blush to own." '-'Feb. 11. — Somewhat overcome. Let me see: there is a creeping defect here. Humble, purpose- like reading of the word omitted. What plant can be unwatered and not wither?" " Feb. 16. — Walk to Corstorphine Hill. Exquisite clear view — blue water, and brown fields, and green firs. INlany thoughts on the follies of my youth. How many, Lord, may they be .^ Summed up in one — ungodliness !" '-''Feb. 21. — Am I as willing as ever to preach to the lost heathen ?" " March 8. — Biblical criticism. This must not supersede heart-work. How apt it is !" " March 12. — for activity, activity, activity !" " March 29. — To-day my second session (at the Divinity Hall) ends. I am now in the middle of my career. God hold me on with a steady pace !" " March 31. — The bull tosses in the net ! How should the Christian imitate the anxieties of the world- ling ?-' A,^prll 17. — He heard of the death of one whom many friends had esteemed nuich and lamented deeply. REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 23 This led him to touch the strings of his harp again, in a measure somewhat irregular, yet sad and sweet. " WE ALL DO FADE AS A LEAF." SHE LIVED — So dyin^-like and frail, That every bitter gale Of winter seemed to blow Only to lay her low I She lived to show how He Who stills the stormy sea, Can overrule the winter's power, And keep alive the tiniest flower — Can bear the young lamb in his arms. And shelter it from death's alarms. SHE DIED — When spring, with brightest flowers, Was freshening all the bowers. The linnet sung her choicest lay, When her sweet voice was hushed for aye The snowdrop rose above the ground When she beneath her pillow tbund, Both cold, and white, and fair — The fairest of the fair ! She died to teach us all The loveliest must fall. A curse is written on the brow Of beauty : — and the lover's vow Cannot retain the flitting breath, Nor save from all devouring death. SHE LIVES — The spirit left the earth ; And He who gave her birth Has called her to his dread abode, To meet her Saviour and her God. She lives, to tell how blest Is the everlasting rest Of those who, in the Lamb's blood laved, Are chosen, sanctified, and saved ! How fearful is their doom Who drop into the tomb Without a covert from the ire Of Him who is consuming fire. SHE SHALL LIVE- The grave shall yield his prize. When, from the rending skies, Christ shall with shouting angels come, To wake the slumbers of the tomb. 24 MEMOIR OF THE And many more shall rise Before our longing ej-es. Oh ! may we all together meet, Embracing the Redeemer's feet ! " May 20. — General Assembly. The motion re- garding Chapels of Ease lost, by 106 to 103. Every shock of the ram is heavier and stronger, till all shall give way.^' " June 4. — Evening almost lost. JNIusic will not sanctify, thoiigli it make feminine the heart." '• June 22. — Omissions made way for commissions. Could I but take eflective warning ! A world's wealth would not make up for that saying, ' If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father.' Bat how shall we that are dead to sin live any longer therein?" ^' Jiuie 30. — Self-examination. Why is a mission- ary life so often an object of my thoughts? Is it simply for the love I bear to souls? Then, why do I not show it more where I am ? Souls are as pre- cious here as in Burmah. Does the romance of the business not weigh anything with me ? — the interest and esteem I would carry with me? — the nice jour- nals and letters I should write and receive ? Why would I so much rather go to the East than to the West Indies ? Am I wholly deceiving my own heart ? and have I not a spark of true missionary zeal ? Lord, give me to understand and imitate the spirit of those unearthly words of thy dear Son, ^ It is enough for the disciple that he be as his JNIaster, and the servant as his Lord.' ^He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me.' Gloria in excelsis Deo.'' ''^ Aus^ust 13. — Clear conviction of sin is the only true origin of dependence on another's righteousness, and therefore, (strange to say!) of the Christian's peace of mind and cheerfnlness." " Sejn. 8. — Reading Adam's Private Thoughts. for his heart-searching humility ! Ah me ! on what mountains of pride must I be wandering, when all I do is tinctured with the very sins this man so deplores; REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 25 yet where are my wailings, where ray tears, over my love of praise ?" '^ November lA. — Composition — a pleasant kind of labour. I fear the love of applause or effect, goes a great way. May God keep me from preaching myself, instead of Christ crucified.'^ ^^ January 15, 1834. — Heard of the death of J. S., off the Cape of Good Hope. God ! how thou break- est into famiUes! Must not the disease be dangerous, when a tender-hearted surgeon cuts deep into the flesh? How much more when God is the operator, 'who afllicteth wot from his heart, o^Sd nor grieveth the children of men.' Lam. iii. 33." '^ February 23. — Sabbath. — Rose early to seek God, and found him whom my soul loveth. Who would not rise early to meet such company? The rains are over and gone. They that sow in tears shall reap in joy." Feb. 22. — He writes a letter to one who, he feared, w^as only sentimental, and not really under a sense of sin. '' Is it possible, think you, for a person to be conceited of his miseries ? INlay there not be a deep leaven of pride in telling how desolate and how un- feeling we are ? — in brooding over our unearthly pains? — in our being excluded from the uns^anpa- theticVorld? — in our being the invalids of Christ's hospital ?" He had himself been taught by the Spirit that it is more humbling to take what grace offers, than to bewail our wants and worthlessness. Two da3^s after, he records, with thankful astonish- ment, that for the first time in his hfe he had been blest to awaken a soul. All who find Christ for themselves are impelled, by the holy necessity of con- straining love, to seek the salvation of others. An- drew findeth his brother Peter, and Philip findeth his friend Nathanael. So was it in the case before us. He no sooner knew Christ's righteousness as his own covering, than he longed to see others clothed in the same spotless robe. And it is peculiarly interesting to read the feelings of one who was yet to be blest in plucking so many brands from the fire, when for the 3 26 MEMOIR OF THE first time he saw the Lord graciously employing him ill this more than angelic work. We have his own testimony: — ''Feb. 25. After sermon. The precious tidings tliat a soul has been melted down by the grace of the Saviour. How blessed an answer to prayer, if it be really so! ^ Can these dry bones live? Lord, thou knowest.' What a blessed thing it is to see the first grievings of the awakened spirit, w4ien it cries, * I cannot see myself a sinner ; I cannot pray, for my vile heart wanders.' It has refreshed me more than a thousand sermons. I know not how to thank and admire God sufficiently for this incipient work. Lord, perfect that which thou hast begun !'' A few days after. — " Lord, I thank thee that thou hast shown me this marvellous working, though I was but an adoring spectator, rather than an instrument." It is scarcely less interesting, in the case of one so gifted for the work of visiting the careless, and so smgularly skilled in ministering the word by the bed- side of the dying, to find a record of the occasion when the Lord led him forth to take his first survey of this field of labour. There existed at that time, among some of the students attending the Divinity Hall, a society, the sole object of which was to stir up each other to set apart an hour or two every week for visiting the careless and needy in the most neglected portions of the town. Our rule was, not to subtract anything from our hours of study, but to devote to this work an occasional hour in the intervals between dif- ferent classes, or an hour that might otherwise have been given to recreation. All of us felt the work to be trying to the flesh at the outset ; but none ever repented of persevering in it. One Saturday forenoon, at the close of the usual prayer-meeting, which met in Dr. Chalmers's vestry, we went up together to a dis- trict in the Castle Hill. It was Robert's first near view of the heathenism of his native city, and the effect was enduring. " March 3. — Accompanied A. B. in one of his rounds through some of the most miserable habita- tions I ever beheld. Such scenes I never before REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 27 dreamed of. Ah, why am I such a stranger to the poor in my native town? I have passed their doors thousands of times; I have admired the huge black piles of building, with their lofty chimneys breaking the sun's rays — why have I never ventured within? How dwelleth the love of God in me ? How cordial is the welcome even of the poorest and most loath- some to the voice of Christian sympathy! What imbedded masses of human beings are huddled toge- ther, unvisited by friend or minister ! ' No man careth for our souls,' is written over every forehead. Awake, my soul ! Why should I give hours and days any longer to the vain world, when there is such a world of misery at my very door? Lord, put thine own strength in me; confirm every good resolution; forgive my past long Vife of uselessness and folly.^^ He forthwith became one of the society's most steady members, cultivating a district in the Canon- gate, and distributing the Monthly Visitor, along with Mr. Somerville. His experience there was fitted to give him insight into the sinner's depravity, in all its forms. His first visit in his district is thus noticed — '^ March 2A:. Visited two families with tolerable suc- cess. God grant a blessing may go with us! Began in fear and weakness, and in much trembling. May the power be of God." Soon after, he narrates the following scene: — "Entered the house of . Heard Iier swearing as I came up the stair. Found her storming at three little grandchildren, whom her daughter had left with her. She is a seared, hard- hearted wretch. Read Ezekiel xxxiii. Interrupted by the entrance of her second daughter, furiously demanding her marriage-lines. Became more dis- creet. Promised to come back — never came. Her father-in-law entered, a hideous spectacle of an aged drunkard, demanding money. Left the house with warnings." Another case he particularly mentions of a sick woman, who, though careless before, sud- denly seemed to float into a sea of joy, without being able to give any scriptural account of the change. She continued, I believe, to her death in this state ; 23 MEMOIR OF THE but he feared it was a subtle delusion of Satan, as an angel of light. One soul, however, was, to all appear- ances, brought truly to the Rock of Ages, during his and his friend's prayerful visitations. These were first-fruits. He continues his diary, though often considerable intervals occur in the register of his spiritual state. '^ May 9. — How kindly has God thwarted me in every instance where I sought to enslave myself. I will learn at least to glory in disappointments." ''May 10. — At the communion. Felt less use for the minister than ever. Let the Master of the feast alone speak to my heart." He felt at such times, as many of the Lord's people have always done, that it is not the addresses of the ministers in serving the table, but the Supper itself, that ought to ^'satiate their souls with fatness." May 2L — It is affecting to us to read the following entry : — '- This day I attained my twenty-first year. how long and how worthlessly I have lived. Thou only knowest! Neff died in his thirty-first year; when shall I?"* May 29. — He this day wrote very faithfully, yet very kindly, to one who seemed to him not a believer, and wiio, nevertheless, appropriated to herself xYiq promi- ses of God. ^' If you are wholly unassured of your being a believer, is it not a contradiction in terms to say, that you are sure the believer's promises belong to you? Are you an assured believer? If so, rejoice in your heirship; and yet rejoice with trembling; for that is the very character of God's heirs. But are you unassured — nay, wholly unassured? then what mad presumption to say to your soul, that these promises, * It is worthy of notice, how often the Lord has done much work by a few years of holy labour. In our church, G. Gillespie and J. Durham died at thirty-six; Hugh Binning at twenty-six; Andrew- Gray when scarcely at twenty-two. Of our witnesses, Patrick Ham- ilton was cut off at twenty-four, and Hugh McKail at twenty-six. In other churches we might mention many, such as John Janeway at twenty-three, David Brainerd at thirty, and Henry Blartyn at thirty-two. Theirs was a short life, filled up with usefuhiess, and crowned with glory. O to be as they I REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 29 being in the Bible, must belong indiscriminately to all? It is too gross a contradiction for you to com- pass, except in word." He then shows that Chrisfs free offer must be accepted by the sinner, and so the j^romises become his. "The sinner complies with the call or offer, ' Come unto me;' and thereafter, but not before, can claim the annexed promise as his, — 'I will give thee rest.' " '^ jiugust 14. — Partial fast, and seeking God's face by prayer. This day thirty years, my late dear bro- ther was born. for more love, and then will come more peace." That same evening he wrote the hymn, '' The Barren Fig-TreeP '^ October 17. — Private meditation exchanged for conversation. Here is the root of the evil — forsake God, and he forsakes us." Some evening this month he had been reading " Baxter's Call to the Unconverted." Deeply im- pressed with the affectionate and awfully solemn inquiry of the man of God, he wrote, — '' Though Baxter's lips have long in silence hung, And death long hush'd that sinner-wakening tongue; Yet still, though dead, he speaks aloud to all, And from the grave still issues forth his "Call." Like some loud angel-voice from Zion Hill, The miglity echo rolls and rumbles still. O grant that we, when sleeping in the dust, May thus speak forth the wisdom of the just." Mr. McCheyne was peculiarly subject to attacks of fever, and by one of these he was laid down on a sick bed on November 15th. However, this attack was of short duration. On the 21st he v/rites — "Bless the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits. Learned more and more of the value of Jehovah Tzidkenu?^ He had, three days before, written his well-known hymn, " / once was a stranger, ^^ &c., entitled "Jehovah Tzidkenu, the Watchward of the Reformers." It was the fruit of a slight illness which had tried his soul, by setting it more immediately in view of the judgment-seat of Christ; and the hymn he so sweetly sung, reveals the sure and soUd confi- 3* 30 MEMOIR OF THE deuce of his soul. In reference to that same illness ]je seems to have penned the following lines, Novem- her 24: — He tenderly binds up the broken in heart, The soul bowed down he will raise ; - For mourning the ointment of joy will impart, For heaviness, garments of praise. Ah come, then, and sing to the praise of our God, Who givcth and taketh away; Wlio first by his kindness, and then by his rod. Would teach us, poor sinners, to pray. For in the assembly of Jesus' first-born, Who anthems of gratitude raise; Each heart has by great tribulation been torn, Each voice turned from wailing to praise. " November 9. — Heard of Edward Irving's death. I look back upon him with awe, as on the saints and martyrs of old. A holy man in spite of all his de- lusions and errors. He is now with his God and Sa- viour, whom he wronged so much, yet, I am persuad- ed, loved so sincerely. How should we lean for wis- dom, not on ourselves, but on the God of all grace. '^ ^^ Nov. 21. — If nothing else will do to sever me from my sins, Lord, send me such sore and trying calamities as shall awake me from earthly slumbers. It must always be best to be alive to thee, whatever be the quickening instrument. I tremble as I write, for oh! on every hand do I see too likely occasions for sore afflictions.^' ^'February 15, 1S35. — To-morrow I undergo my trials before the Presbytery. May God give me courage in the hour of need. What should I fear? If God see meet to put me into the ministry, wlio shall keep me back? If I be not meet, why should I be thrust for v.^ard? To thy service I desire to dedi- cate myself over and over again.'' " March 1 . — Bodily service. What change is there in the heart! Wild, earthy affections there are here; strong, coarse passions; bands both of iron and silk. But I thank thee, my God, that they make me cxy, REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 31 ' wretched man !' Bodily weakness, too, depresses me." " March 29. — College finished on Friday last. My last appearance there. Life itself is vanishing fast. Make haste for eternity.'' In such records as these, we read God's dealings with his soul up to the time when he was licensed to preach the gospel. His preparatory discipline, both of heart and intellect, had been directed by the Great Head of the Church in a way that remarkably quali- fied him for the work he was to perform in the vine- yard. His soul was prepared for the awful work of the ministry by much prayer, and much study of the word of God; by affliction in his person; by inward trials and sore temptations; by experience of the depth of corruption in his own heart; and by discove- ries of the Saviour's fulness of grace. He learnt ex- perimentally to ask — ^' Who is he that overcometh the world, but he that believeth that Jesus is the Son of God." (1 John v. 5). During the four years that followed his awakening, he was oftentimes under the many waters, but was ever raised again by the same divine hand that had drawn him out at the first ; till at length, though still often violently tossed, the ves- sel was able steadily to keep the summit of the wave. It appears that he learned the way of salvation experi- mentally, ere he knew it accurately by theory and system; and thus no doubt it was that his whole min- istry was little else than a giving out of his own in- ward life. The Visiting Society noticed above was much blessed to the culture of his soul, and not less so the Missionary Association and the Prayer Meeting con- nected with it. None were more regular at the hour of prayer than he, and none more frequently led up our praises to the throne. He was for some time Sec- retary to the association, and interested himself deeply in details of missionary labours. Indeed, to the last day of his life, his thoughts often turned to foreign lands; and one of the last notes he wrote was to the 32 MEMOIR OF THE secretary of the association in Edinburgh, expressing his unabated interest in their prosperity. During the first years of his college course, his studies did not absorb his whole attention ; but no sooner was the change on his soul begun, than his studies shared in the results. A deeper sense of responsibility led. him to occupy his talents for the service of Him who bestowed them. There have been few who, along with a devotedness of spirit that sought to be ever directly engaged in the Lord's work, have nevertheless retained such continued and unde- caying esteem for the advantages of study. Wiiile attending the usual hterary and philosophical classes, he found time to turn his attention to Geology and Natural History. And often in his days of most suc- cessful preaching, when, next to his own soul, his parish and his flock were his only care, he has been known to express a regret that he had not laid up in former days more stores of all useful knowledge ; for he found himself able to use the jewels of the Egyp- tians in the service of Christ. His previous studies would sometimes flash into his mind some happy illus- tration of Divine truth, at the very moment when he was most solemnly applying the glorious gospel to the most ignorant and vile. His own words will best shov/ his estimate of study, and at the same time the prayerful manner in which he felt it should be carried on. " Do get on with your studies," he wrote to a young student in 1840. ^' Re- member you are now forming the character of 3^our future ministry in great measure, if God spare you. If you acquire slovenly or sleepy habits of study now, you will never get the better of it. Do every thing in its own time. Do every thing in earnest — if it is worth doing, then do it with all your might. Above all, keep much in the presence of God. Never see the face of man till you have seen his face who is our life, our all. Pray for others : pray for your teachers, fellow students," &c. To another he wrote — " Be- ware of the atmosphere of the classics. It is pernicious indeed; and you need much of the south wind breath- REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 33 iiig over the Scriptures to counteract it. True, we ought to know them; but only as chemists handle poisons — to discover their qualities, not to infect their blood with them.'^ And again — " Pray that the Holy Spirit would not only make you a believing and holy lad, but make you wise in your studies also. A ray of Divine light in the soul sometimes clears up a ma- thematical problem wonderfully. The smile of God calms the spirit, and the left hand of Jesus holds up the fainting head, and his Holy Spirit quickens the affection ; so that even natural studies go on a million times more easily and comfortably.^^ Before entering the Divinity Hall, he had attended a private class for the study of Hebrew ; and having afterwards attended the two sessions of Dr. Brunton's College Class, he made much progress in that lan- guage. He could consult the Hebrew original of the Old Testament with as much ease as most of our ministers are able to consult the Greek of the New. It was about the time of his first year's attendance at the Hall that I began to know him as an intimate friend. During the summer vacations — that we might redeem the time — some of us who remained in town, when most of our fellow-students were gone to the country, used to meet once every week in the fore- noon, for the purpose of investigating some point of Systematic Divinity, and stating to each other the amount and result of our private reading. At another time, we met in a similar way, till we had overtaken the chief points of the Popish controversy. Advance- ment in our acquaintance with the Greek and Hebrew Scriptures also brought us together ; and one summer the study of Unfulfilled Prophecy assembled a few of us once a-week, at an early morning hour, v/hen, though our views differed much on particular points, we never failed to get food to our souls in the Scrip- tures we explored. But no society of this kind was more useful and pleasant to us than one which, from its object, received the name of Exegetical. It met during the session of the Theological Classes every Saturday morning at half-past six. The study of 34 MEMOIR OF THE Biblical criticism, and whatever might cast light on the word of God, was our aim ; and these meetings were kept up regularly during four sessions. JNIr. McCheyne spoke of himself as indebted to this society for much of that discipline of mind on Jewish litera- ture and Scripture geography, which was to be so useful in the mission of inquiry to the Jews in at^ter days.* But these helps in study were all the while no more than supplementary. The regular systematic studies of the Hall furnished the main provision for his mental culture. Under Dr. Chalmers for Divinity, and under Dr. Welsh for Church History, a course of four years afforded no ordinary advantages for en- * The members of this Society were — Rev. WilUa7n LavgJdon, now minister of St. Thomas's, Greenock, in connexion with the Free Church ; Thomas Brotcji, Free Church, KinnefF; William Wilson, Free Church, Carmylie ; Horatius Bonar, Free Church, Kelso ; An- drew A. Bonar, Free Church, Collace ; Robert M. McCherjne ; Alex- ander Somervillc, Free Church, Anderston, Glasgow ; John Thomson, Mariners' Free Church, Leith ; Robert R. Hamilton, Madras ; John Burne, for some time at Madeira ; Patrick Borrowman, Free Church, Glencairn; Walter IFoof/, Free Church, Weststruther ; Henry Mon- crieff. Free Cliurch, Kilbride; James Cochrane, Established Church, Cupar ; John Miller, Secretary to Free Church Special Commission ; G. Smeaton, Free Church, Auchterardcr ; Robert Kinnear, Free Church, Moffat; and W. B. Clarke, Free Church, Half-Morton. Every meeting was opened and closed with prayer. Minutes of the discussions were kept; and the Essays read were preserved in vol- umes. A very characteristic essay of Mr. McCheync's is, ''Lebanon and its Scenery," wherein he adduces the evidence of travellers for facts and customs which himself was afterwards to see. Often in 1839, pleasant remembrances of these days of youthful study were suggested by what we actually witnessed ; and in the essay referred to I find an interesting coincidence. He writes — " What a refreshing sight to his eye, yet undimmed with age, after resting forty years on the monotonous scenery of the desert, now to rest on Zion's olive-clad hills, and Lebanon, with its vine-clad base and overhanging forests, and towering peaks of snow." This was the very impression on our minds wlien we ourselves came up from the wilderness, as expressed in the Narrative, chap. ii. — " May 29. Next morning we saw at a distance a range of hills, running north and south, called by the Arabs Djehel Khalie. After wandering so many days in the wilderness, with its vast monotonous plains of level sand, the sight of these dis- tant mountains was a pleasant relief to the eye ; and we thought we could understand a little of the feeling with which Moses, after being forty years in the desert, would pray, ' I pray thee let me go oyer,' Deut, iii. 25." REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 35 larging the understanding. New fields of thought were daily opened up. His notes and his diary tes- tify that he endeavoured to retain what he heard, and that he used to read as much of the books recom- mended by the professors as his time enabled him to overtake. Many years after, he thankfully called to mind lessons that had been taught in these classes. Riding one day whh Mr. Hamilton (now of Regent Square, London,) from Abernyte to Dundee, they were led to speak of the best mode of dividing a ser- mon. " I used," said he, " to despise Dr. Welsh's rules at the time I heard him, but now I feel I inust use them, for nothing is more needful for making a sermon memorable and impressive than a logical arrangement." His intellectual powers were of a high order — clear and distinct apprehension of his subject, and felicitous illustration, characterized him among all his companions. To an eager desire for wide acquaint- ance with truth in all its departments, and a memory strong and accurate in retaining what he found, there was added a remarkable candour in examining what claimed to be the truth. He had, also, an ingenious and enterprising mind — a mind that could carry out what was suggested, when it did not strike out new light for itself. He possessed great powers of analy- sis ; often his judgment discovered singular discrimina- tion. His imagination seldom sought out objects of grandeur; for, as a friend has truly said of him, "he had a kind and quiet eye, which found out the living and beautiful in nature, rather than the majestic and sublime." He miofht have risen to hisrh eminence in the circles of taste and literature, but denied himself all such hopes, that he might win souls. With such peculiar talents as he possessed, his ministry might have, in any circumstances, attracted many ; but these attrac- tions were all made subsidiary to the single desire of awakening the dead in trespasses and sins. Nor would he have expected to be blessed to the salvation of souls, unless he had himself been a monument of 36 MEMOIR OF THE sovereign grace. In his esteem, " to be in Christ he- fore being in the ministry,''^ was a thing indis- pensable. He often pointed to those solemn words of Jeremiah (xxiii. 21,) " I have not sent these prophets, yet they ran; I have not spoken to thtm^yet they prophesied. But if they had stood in my counsel, and caused my people to hear 7ny words, then they should have turned them from their evil way, and from the evil of their doingsP It was with faith already in his heart that he went forward to the holy office of the ministry, receiving from his Lord the rod by which he was to do signs, and which, when it had opened rocks and made waters gnsh out, he never failed to replace upon the ark whence it was taken, giving glory to God ! He knew not the way by which God Avas leading him ; but even then he was under the guidance of that pillar-cloud. At this very period he wrote that hymn, " They sing the Song of Moses.'' His course was then about to begin; but now that it has ended, we can look back and plainly see that the faith he therein expressed was not in vain. CHAPTER II. HIS LABOURS IN THE VINEYARD BEFORE ORDINATION. He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubt- less come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him. — (Psa. cxxvi. 6.) While he was still only undergoing a student's usual examinations before the Presbytery, in the spring and summer of 1835, several applications were made to him by ministers in the church, who desired to secure his services for their part of the vineyard. He was especially urged to consider the field of labour at Larbert and Dunipace, near Stirling, under Mr. John REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 37 Bonar, the pastor of these united parishes. This cir- cumstance led him (as is often done in such cases) to ask the Presbytery of Edinburgh, under whose super- intendence he had hitherto carried on his studies, to transfer the remainder of his pubUc trials to another Presbytery, where there would be less press of busi- ness to occasion delay. This request being readily granted, his connection with Dumfriesshire led him to the Presbyter}^ of Annan, who licensed him to preach the gospel on July 1st, 1835. His feelings at the moment appear from a record of his own in the even- ing of the day: '"'Preached three probationary dis- courses in Annan Church, and after an examination in Hebrew, was solemnly licensed to preach the gospel by Mr. Monylaws, the Moderator. Bless the Lord, my soul; and all that is within me be stirred up to praise and magnify his holy name! What 1 have so long desired as the highest honour of man, thou at length givest me — me who dare scarcely nse the words of Paul, ' Unto me who am less than the least of all saints is this srace siven. that I should preach the unsearchable riches of Christ.' Felt some- what solemnized, though unable to feel my unwor- thiness as I ought. Be clothed with humility." An event occurred the week before, which cast a solemnizing influence on him, and on his after-fellow- traveller and brother in the gospel, who was licensed by another Presbytery that same day. This event was the lamented death of the Rev. John Brown Pat- terson, of Falkirk — one whom the Lord had gifted with pre-eminent eloquence and learning, and who was using all for his Lord, when cut off by fever. He had spoken much before his death of the awfulness of a pastor's charge, and his early death sent home the lesson to many, with the warning that the pastor's account of souls might be suddenly required of him. On the following Sabbath Mr. McCheyne preached, for the first time, in Ruthwell Church, near Dumfries, on "the Pool of Bethesda;" and in the afternoon, on '-'• the Strait Gate." He writes that evening in his diary: " Found it a more awfully solemn thing than 4 38 MEMOIR OF THE I had imagined to announce Christ authoritatively; yet a glorious privilege!" The week after (Saturday July 11), " Lord, put me into thy service when and where thou pleasest. In thy hand all my qualities will be put to their appropriate end. Let me, then, have no anxieties.'^ Next day, also, after preaching in St. John's Church, Leith, " Remembered, before going into the pulpit, the confession which says* ^We have been more anxious about the messenger than the message.' " In preaching that day, he states, ''It came across me in the pulpit, that if spared to be a minister, I might enjoy sweet flashes of communion with God in that situation. The mind is entirely wrought up to speak for God. It is possible, then, that more vivid acts of faith may be gone through then, than in quieter and sleepier moments." It was not till the 7th of November that he began his labours at Larbert. In the interval, he preached in various places, and many began to perceive the peculiar sweetness of the word in his lips. In accept- ing the invitation to labour in the sphere proposed, he wrote : '' It has always been my aim, and it is my prayer, to have 7io j^lcins with regard to myself — well assured as I am, that the place where the Saviour sees meet to place me, must ever be the best place for me." The parish to which he had come was very large, containing six thousand souls. The Parish Church is at Larbert; but through the exertions of Mr. Bonar, many years ago, a second church was erected for the people of Dunipace. Mr. Hanna, afterwards minis- ter of Skirling, had preceded Mr. McCheyne in the duties of assistant in his field of labour ; and Mr. McCheyne now entered on it with a fully devoted and zealous heart, although in a weak state of health. As assistant, it was his part to preach every alternate Sabbath at Larbert and Dunipace, and during the week to visit among the population of both these dis- * He here refers to the *^Full and Candid Acknowledgment of Sin,''' for Students and Ministers; drawn up by the Commission of Assem- bly, in 1651, and often reprinted since. REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 39 tricts, according as he felt himself enabled in body and soul. There was a marked difference between the two districts in their general features of character; but equal labour was bestowed on both by the minis- ter and his assistant; and often did their prayer ascend that the windows of heaven might be opened over the two sanctuaries. Souls have been saved there. Often, however, did the faithful pastor mingle his tears with those of his younger fellow-soldier, com- plaining, ''Lord, who hath believed our report ?^^ There was much sowing in faith; nor was this sowing abandoned even when the returns seemed most inade- quate. Mr. McCheyne had great delight in remembering that Larbert was one of the places where, in other days, that holy man of God, Robert Bruce, had laboured and prayed. Writing at an after-period from the Holy Land, he expressed the wish, " JViay the Spirit be poured upon Larbert as in Bruce's days.'' But, more than all associations, the souls of the people, whose salvation he longed for, were ever present to his mind. A letter to Mr. Bonar, in 1S37, from Dun- dee, shows us his yearnings over them. " What an interest I feel in Larbert and Dunipace ! It is like the land of my birth. Will the Sun of righteousness ever rise upon it, making its hills and valleys bright with the light of the knowledge of Jesus !'' No sooner was he settled in his chamber here, than he commenced his work. With him, the commence- ment of all labour invariably consisted in the prepa- ration of his own soul. The forerunner of each day's visitations was a calm season of private devotion durins: morninsr hours. The walls of his chamber were witnesses of his prayerfulness — I believe of his tears, as well as of his cries. The pleasant sound of psalms often issued from his room at an early hour. Then followed the reading of the word for his own sanctification ; and few have so fully realized the blessing of the first Psalm. His leaf did not wither, for his roots were in the waters. It was here, too, that he began to study so closely the works of Jona- 40 MEMOIR OF THE than Edwards — reckoning them a mine to be wrought, and if wrought, sure to repay the toil. Along with this author, the Letters of Samuel Rutherford were often in his hand. Books of general knowledge he occasionally perused; but now it was done with the steady purpose of finding in them some illustration of spiritual truth. He rose from reading " Insect Archi- tecture,^^ with the observation, " God reigns in a community of ants and ichneumons, as visibly as among living men or mighty seraphim!" His desire to grow in acquaintance with Scripture was very intense ; and both the Old and New Testa- ment were his regular study. He loved to range over the wide revelation of God. *'He would be a sorry student of this world," said he to a friend, " who should for ever confine his gaze to the fruitful fields and well-watered gardens of this cultivated earth. He could have no true idea of what the world was, unless he had stood upon the rocks of our mountains and seen the bleak muirs and mosses of our barren land ; unless he had paced the quarter-deck when the vessel was out of sight of land, and seen the waste of waters without any shore upon the horizon. Just so, he would be a sorry student of the Bible, who would not know all that God has inspired; who would not examine into the most barren chapters to collect the good for which they were intended ; who would not strive to understand all the bloody battles which are chronicled, that he might find 'bread out of the eater, and honey out of the lion.'" — {June, 1836.) His anxiety to have every possible help to holiness led him to notice what are the disadvantages of those who are not daily stirred up by the fellowship of more advanced believers. " I have found, by some experience, that in the country here my watch does not go so well as it used to do in town. By small and gradual changes I find it eillier gains or loses, and I am surprised to find myself different in time from all the world, and, what is worse, from the sun. The simple explanation is, that in town I met with a REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 41 Steeple in every street, and a good going clock upon it; and so any aberrations in my watch were soon noticed and easily corrected. And just so I some- times think it may be with that inner watch, whose hands point not to time but to eternity. By gradual and slow changes the wheels of my soul lag behind, or the springs of passions become too powerful ; and I have no living time-piece with which I may com- pare, and by which I may amend my going. You will say that I may always have the sun: and so it should be ; but we have many clouds which ob- scure the sun from our weak eyes." — (Letters to Rev. H. Bonar, Kelso.) From the first he fed others by what he himself was feeding upon. His preaching was in a manner the development of his soul's experience. It was a giving out of the inward life. He loved to come up from the pastures wherein the chief Shepherd had met liim — to lead the liock entrusted to his care to the spots where he found nourishment. In the field of his labour, he found enough of work to overwhelm the spirit. The several collieries and the Carron Iron- works furnish a population who are, for the most part, either sunk in deep inditierence to the truth, or are opposed to it in the spirit of infideli- ty. Mr. McCheyne at once saw that the pastor whom he had come to aid, whatever was the measure of his health and zeal, and perseverance, had duties laid on him which were altogether beyond the power of man to overtake. When he had made a few weeks' trial, the field appeared more boundless, and the mass of souls more impenetrable, than he had ever conceived. It was probably, in some degree, his experience at this time, that gave him such deep sympathy with the Church Extension Scheme, as a truly noble and Chris- tian eifort for bringing the glad tidings to the doors of a population, who must otherwise remain neglected, and were themselves wilhng so to live and die. He conveyed his impressions on this subject to a friend abroad, in the following terms: — "There is a soul- destroying cruelty in the cold-hearted opposition which 42 MEMOIR OF THE is made to the multiplication of ministers in such ne- glected and over-2:rown districts as these. If one of our Royal Commissioners would but consent to under- go the bodily fatigue that a minister ought to under- go in visiting merely the sick and dying of Larbert, (let alone the visitation of the whole, and preparation for the pulpit,) and that for one month, I would engage that if he be able to rise out of his bed by the end of it, he would change his voice and manner at the Commission Board." A few busy weeks passed over, occupied from morning to night in such cares and toils, when an- other part of the discipline he was to undergo was sent. In the end of December, strong oppression of the heart and an irritating cough caused some of his friends to fear that liis lungs were affected; and for some weeks he was laid aside from public duty. On examination, it was found that though there was a dulness in the right lung, yet the material of the lungs was not affected. For a time, however, the air- vessels were so clogged and irritated, that if he had continued to preach, disease would have quickly en- sued. But this also was soon removed, and, under cautious management, he resumed his work. This temporary iUness served to call forth the extreme sensitiveness of his soul to the responsibili- ties of his office. At its commencement — having gone to Edinburgh "in so sweet a sunshine mornini? that God seemed to have chosen it for him" — he wrote to Mr. Bonar — " If I am not recovered before the third Sabbath, I fear I shall not be able to bear upon my conscience the responsibility of leaving you any longer to labour alone, bearing unaided the burden of six thousand souls. No, my dear sir, I must read the will of God aright in his providence, and give way, when he bids me, to fresh and abler workmen. I hope and pray that it may be his will to restore me again to you and your parisli, with a heart tutored by sickness to speak more and more as dying to dying." Then, mentioning two of the sick — '• Poor A. D. and C. H., I often think of them. I can do no REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 43 more for their good, except pray for them. Tell them that I do this without ceasing." The days when a holy pastor, who knows the blood-sprinkled way to the Father, is laid aside, are probably as much a proof of the kindness of God to his flock as days of health and activity. He is occu- pied, during this season of retirement, in discovering the plagues of his heart, and in going in, like Moses, to plead with God face to face for his flock, and for his own soul. IVIr. McCheyne believed that God had this end in view with him ; and that the Lord should thus deal with him at his entrance into the vine- yard made him ponder these dealings the more. "Paul asked," says he, "What wilt thou have me to do .^" and it was answered, " I will show him what great things he must suffer for my name's sake." Thus it may be with me. I have been too anxious to do great things. The lust of praise has ever been my besetting sin ; and what more befitting school could be found for me than that of suftering alone, away from the eye and ear of man ?" Writing again to Mr. Bonar, he tells him : " I feel distinctly that the whole of my labour during this season of sickness and pain, should be in the way of prayer and inter- cession. And yet, so sti'ongly does Satan work in our deceitful hearts, I scarcely remember a season wherein I have been more averse to these duties. I try to build myself up in my most holy faitli, pray- ing in the Holy Ghost, keeping myself in the love of God, and looking for the mercy of the Lord Jesus unto eternal life. That text of Jude has peculiar beauties for me at this season. If it be good to come under the love of God once, surely it is good to keep ourselves there. And yet how rekictant we are! I cannot doubt that boldness is ofiered me to enter into the holiest of all ; I cannot doubt my right and title to enter continually by the new and living way; I cannot doubt that when I do enter in, I stand not only forgiven, but accepted in the Beloved ; I cannot doubt that when I do enter in, the Spirit is willing and ready to descend like a dove, to dwell in my 44 MEMOIR OF THE bosom as a Spirit of prayer and peace, enabling me to ^pray in the Holy Ghost;' and that Jesus is ready to rise up as my intercessor with the Father, praying for me, thougli not for the world; and that the prayer- hearing God is ready to bend his ear to requests which he delights to hear and answer. I cannot doubt that thus to dwell in God is the true blessed- ness of my nature ; and yet, strange, unaccountable creature ! I am too often unwilling to enter in. I go about and about the sanctuary, and I sometimes press in through the rent veil, and see the blessedness of dwelling there to be far better than that in the tents of wickedness ; yet it is certain that I do not dwell within.'' — "My prayers follow you, especially to the sick-beds of A. D. and C. H. I hope they still survive, and that Christ may yet be glorified in them." On resuming his labours, he found a residence in Carronvale. From this pleasant spot he used to ride out to his work. But pleasant as the spot was, yet being only partially recovered, he was not satisfied; he lamented that he was unable to overtake what a stronger labourer would have accomplished. He often cast a regretful look at the collieries; and remember- ing them still at a later period, he reproached himself with neglect, though most unjustly. "The places which I let\ utterly unbroken in upon are Kinnaird and INIilton. Both of these rise up against my con- science, particularly the last, through which I have ridden so often." It was not the comfort, but the positive usefulness of the ministry, that he envied ; and he judged of places by their fitness to promote tliis great end. He said of a neighbouring parish, which he had occasion to visit — " The manse is alto- gether too sweet ; other men could hardly live there without saying, ' Tliis is my rest.' I don't think ministers' manses should ever be so beautiful." A simple incident was overruled to promote the ease and fluency of his pulpit ministrations. From the very beginning of his ministry, he reprobated the custom of reading sermons, believing that to do so REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 45 does exceedingly weaken the freedom and natural fervour of the messenger in delivering his message. Neither did he recite what he had written. But his custom was to impress on his memory the substance of what he had beforehand carefully written, and then to speak as he found liberty. One morning, as he rode rapidly along to Dunipace, his written ser- mons were dropped on the wayside. This accident prevented him having the opportunity of preparing in his usual manner ; but he was enabled to preach with more than usual freedom. For the first time in his life, he discovered that he possessed the gift of extemporaneous composition, and learned, to his own surprise, that he had more composedness of mind and commaand of language than he had believed. This discovery, however, did not in the least degree dimin- ish his diligent preparation. Indeed, the only use that he made of the incident at the time it occurred was, to draw a lesson of dependence on God's own immediate blessing, rather than on the satisfactory preparation made. '^ One thing always fills the cup of my consolation, that God may work by the meanest and poorest words, as well as by the most polished and ornate — yea perhaps more readily, that the glory may be all his own.'' His hands were again full, distributing the bread of life in fellowship with Mr. Bonar. The progress of his own soul, meanwhile, may be traced in some of the few entries that oc^ur in his diary during this period. "February 21, 1836.— Sabbath. — Blessed be the Lord for another day of the Son of IMan. Resumed my diary, long broken off; not because I do not feel the disadvantages of it — making you assume feelings and express rather what you wish to be than what you are — but because the advantages seem greater. It insures sober reflection on the events of the day as seen in God's eye. Preached twice in Larbert, on the righteousness of God, Rom. i. 16. In the morning was more engaged in preparing the head than the heart. This has been frequently my error, 46 ME3I0IR OF THE and I have always felt the evil of it, especially in prayer. Reform it, then, Lord/' " Feb. 27. — Preached in Dunipace with more heart than ever I remember to have done, on Rom. v. 10, owing to the gospel-nature of the subject and prayer- ful preparation. Audience smaller than usual ! How happy and strange is the feeling when God gives the soul composure to stand and plead for him. that it were altogether for him I plead, not for myself " March 5. — Preached in Larbert with very much comfort, owing chiefly to my remedying the error of 21st Feb. Therefore the heart and the mouth were full. ' Enlarge my heart, and I shall run,' said David. ' Enlarge my heart, and I shall preach.' " In this last remark we see the germ of his remark- ably solemn ministry. His heart was filled, and his hps then spoke what he felt withui his heart. He gave out not merely living water, but living water drawn at the springs that he had himself drunk of; and is not this a true gospel ministry ? Some venture to try what they consider a more intellectual method of addressing the conscience ; but ere a minister at- tempts this mode, he ought to see that he is one who is able to afford more deep and anxious preparation of heart than other men. Such intellectual men must bestow tenfold more prayerfulness on their work, if the}^ would have either their own or their people's souls aflected under their word. If we are ever to preach with compassion for the perishing, we must be moved ourselves by those same views of sin and righteousness which moved the human soul of Jesus. About this time he occasionally contributed papers to the Christian Herald: one of these was on sudden Conversions, showing that Scripture led us to expect such. During this month, he seems to have written the '- Lines on Mungo Parh^^ one of the pieces which attracted the notice of Professor Wilson. But what- ever he engaged in, his aim was to honour his Master. I find him, after hearing sermon by another, remark- ing [Jlpril o^), "Some things powerful; but I thirst to hear more of Christ." REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 47 On Sabbath 16, he writes, " Preached with some tenderness of heart. why should I not weep, as Jesus did over Jerusalem ? Evening — Instructing two dehghtful Sabbath-schools. Much bodily weari- ness. Gracious kindness of God in giving rest to the weary." "April 13.— Went to Stirling to hear Dr. Duff once more upon his system. With greater warmth and energy than ever. He kindles as he goes. Felt almost constrained to go the whole length of his system with him. If it were only to raise up an audience, it would be defensible ; but when it is to raise up teachers, it is more than defensible. I am now made willing, if God shall open the way, to go to India. Here am I ; send me !" The missionary feeling in his soul continued all his life. The Lord had really made him willing; and this preparedness to go anywhere completed liis preparation for unselfish, self-denied work at home. jNIust there not be somewhat of this missionary ten- dency in all true ministers ? Is any one truly the Lord's messenger who is not quite willing to go when and where the Lord calls ? Is it justifiable in any to put aside a call from the north, on the ground that he wishes one from the south ? We must be found in the position of Isaiah, if we are to be really sent of God. "April 24. — that this day's labour may be blessed ! and not mine alone, but all thy faithful ser- vants all over the world, till the Sabbath come." "April 26. — Visiting in Carron-shore, Well re- ceived everywhere. Truly a pleasant labour. Cheer- ed me much. Preached to them afterwards from Proverbs i." " May 8. — Communion in Larbert. Served as an elder and help to the faithful. Partook with some glimpses of faith and joy. Served by a faithful old minister (Mr. Dempster of Denny), one taught of God. This morning stood by the dying — evening, stood by the dead, poor J. F. having died last night. I laid my hand on her cold forehead, and tried to shut 48 MEMOIR OF THE her eyes. Lord, give me strength for Uving to thee ! — strength also for a dying hour." ^^ May 15. — This day an annular eclipse of the sun. Kept both the services together, in order to be in time. Truly a beautiful sight to see the shining edge of the sun all round the dark disc of the moon. Lord, ouQ day thy hand shall put out those candles; for there shall be no need of the sun to lighten the happy land ; the Lamb is the light thereof — a sun that cannot be eclipsed — that cannot go down." *' May 17. — Visited thirteen families, and addressed them all in the evening in the school, on Jeremiah 1. 4, ' going and weeping.' Experienced some en- largement of soul ; said some plain things ; and had some desire for their salvation, that God might be praised." '^ May 21. — Preparation for the Sabbath. ^Nly birth-day. I have lived twenty-three years. Blessed be my rock. Tliough I am a child in knowledge of my Bible and of Thee, yet use me for what a child can do, or a child can suffer. How few sufferings I have had in the year that is past, except in my own body. Oh ! that as my day is, my strength may be. Give me strength for a suffering, and for a dying hour !" '^ May 22. — Lord, when thou workest, all dis- couragements vanish — when thou art away, any thing is a discouragement. Blessed be God for such a day — one of a thousand! why not always thus? Watch and pray." Being in Edinburgh this month, during the sitting of the General Assembly, he used the opportunity of revisiting some of his former charge in the Canongate. ''J. S., a far-off inquirer, but surely God is leading. His hand draws out these tears. Interesting visits to L.; near death, and still in the same mind. I cannot but hope that some faith is here. Saw INIrs. ]NL : many tears; felt much, though 1 am still doubtful, and in the dark. Thou knowest. Lord!" June 11. — Yesterday up in Dunipace. It would seem as if I were afraid to name the name of Christ. REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 49 Saw many worldly people greatly needing a word in season, yet could not get my heart up to speak. What I did failed almost completely. I am not worthy, Lord ! To-day sought to prepare my heart for the coming Sabbath. After the example of Boston, whose Ufe I have been reading, examined my heart with prayer and fasting. 1. Does my heart really close with the offer of salvation by Jesus? Is it my choice to be saved in the way which gives him all the praise, and me none? Do I not only see it to be the Bible way of salvation, but does it cordially approve itself to my heart as delightful? Lord, search me and try me, for I cannot but answer, Yes, yes. 2. Is it the desire of my heart to be made altogether holy? Is there any sin I wish to retain? Is sin a grief to me, the sudden risings and overcomings thereof especially? Lord, thou knowest all things — thou knowest that I hate all sin, and desire to be made altogether like thee. It is the sweetest word in the Bible — ' Sin shall not have dominion over you.' then that I might lie low in the dust— the lower the better — that Jesus' righteousness and Jesus' strength alone be admired. Felt much deadness, and much grief that I cannot grieve for this deadness. Towards evening revived. Got a calm spirit through psalmody and prayer." " June 12, Sabbath. — To-day a sinner preached Jesus, the same Jesus who has done all things for him, and that so lately ! A day of much help, of some earnest looking-up of the heart to that alone quicken- ing power, of much temptation to flattery and pride. for breathing gales of spiritual life! Evening — Somewhat helped to lay Jesus before little children in his beauty and excellency. Much fatigue, yet some peace. Surely a day in thy courts is better than a thousand." " 3Ia7/ 15. — Day of visiting — rather a happy one — in Carron-shore. Large meeting in the evening. Felt very happy after it, though mourning for bitter speak- ing' of the gospel. Surely it is a gentle message, and should be spoken with angelic tenderness, especially by such a needy sinner." 5 50 MEMOIR OF THE Of this bitterness in preacliing, he had little indeed in after days; yet so sensible was he of its being quite natural to all of us, that oftentimes he made it the subject of conversation, and used to grieve over him- self if he had spoken with any thing less than solemn compassion. I remember on one occasion, when we met, lie asked me what my last Sabbath's subject had been. It had been, " The wicked shall be turned into hell.'' On hearing tliis awful text, he asked, ''Were you able to preach it icith tenderness .?" Certain it is that the tone of reproach and upbraiding is widely different from the voice of solemn warning. It is not saying hard things that pierces the consciences of our people; it is the voice of divine love heard amid the thunder. The sharpest point of the two-edged sword is not deaths but life; and against self-righteous souls this latter ought to be more used than the former. For such souls can hear us tell of the open gates of hell and the unquenchable fire far more unconcernedly than of the gates of heaven wide open for their imme- diate return. When we preach that the glad tidings were intended to impart imtnediate assurance of eternal life to every sinner that believes them, we strike deeper upon the proud enmity of the world to God, than when we show the eternal curse and the second death. '^ June 1 9, Sabbath. — Wet morning. Preached at Dunipace to a small audience, on the parable of the tares. I thank God for that blessed parable. In both discourses I can look back on many hateful thoughts of pride, and self-admiration, and love of praise, stealing the heart out of the service." '^ June 22. — Carron-shore. My last. Some tears; yet I fear some like the messenger, not the message; and I fear I am so vain as to love that love. Lord, let it not be so. Perish my honour, but let Thine be exalted for ever. ''Ju)ie26. — True Sabbath-day. Golden sky. Full church, and more liveliness than sometimes. Shall I call the liveliness of this day a gale of the Spirit, or was all natural? I know that all was not of grace: REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 51 the self-admiration, the vanity, the desire of honour, the bitterness — these were all breaths of earth or hell. But was there no grace? Lord, thou knowest. I dare not wrong thee by saying — No ! Larbert Sab- bath-school, with the same liveliness and joy. Do- mestic work with the same. Praised be God! that the savour of it may last through the week ! By this may I test if it be all of nature, or much of grace. Alas! how I tremble for my Monday mornings — those seasons of lifelessness. Lord, bless the seeds sown this day in the hearts of my friends, by the hand of my friends, and all over the world, — hasten the har- vest!'' "«/^«/?/ 3. — After a week of working and hurried preparation, a Sabbath of mingled peace and pain. Called, morning before preaching, to see Mrs. E. dying. — Preached on the jailor — discomposedly — with some glimpses of the genuine truth as it is in Jesus. Felt there was much mingling of experience. At times the congregation was lightened up from their dull flatness, and then they sunk again into lethargy. Lord, make me hang on thee to open their hearts, thou opener of Lydia's heart. I fear thou wilt not bless my preaching, until I am brought thus to hang on thee. keep not back a blessing, for my sin! Afternoon — On the Highway of the Redeemed, with more ease and comfort. Felt the truth sometimes boiling up from my heart into my words. Some glimpses of tenderness, yet much less of that spirit than the last two Sabbaths. Again saw the dying woman. when will I plead, with my tears and inward yearnings, over sinners! compassionate Lord, give me to know what manner of spirit I am of! give me thy gentle spirit, that neither strives nor cries. Much weariness, want of prayerfulness, and want of cleaving to Christ.'' Tuesday the 5th, being the anniversary of his license to preach the gospel, he writes : — " Eventful week ! One year I have preached Jesus, have I? or myself? I have often preached myself also, but Jesus I have preached." 52 MEMOIR OF THE About this time he again feU the hand of affliction, though it did not continue long. Yet it was plain to him now that personal trouble was to be one of the ingredients of that experience which helped to give a peculiar tone to his ministry. '^ July 8th. — Since Tuesday have been laid up with illness. Set by once more for a season to feel my unprofitableness and cure my pride. When shall this self-choosing temper be healed? 'Lord, I will preach, run, visit, wrestle,' said I. ' No, thou shalt lie in thy bed and suffer,' said the Lord. To-day missed some fine opportuni- ties of speaking a word for Christ. The Lord saw I would have spoken as much for my own honour as his, and, therefore, shut my mouth. I see a man can- not he a faithful miiiistei', until he preaches Christ for Christ^ s sake — -until he gives up striving to attract people to himself, and seeks only to attract them to Christ. Lord, give me this! To-night some glimpses of humbling; and, therefore, some wrestling in social prayer. But my prayers are scarcely to be called prayer." Then, in the evening, " This day my bro- ther has been five years absent from the body and present with the Lord, and knows more and loves more than all earthly saints together. Till the day break and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved !" ^^ July 10th. — I fear I am growing more earthly in some things. To-day I felt a difficulty in bringing in spiritual conversation immediately after preaching, when my bosom should be burning. Excused myself from dining out from other than the grand reason; though checked and corrected myself Evening — Insensibly slid into worldly conversation. Let these things be corrected in me, Lord, by the heart being more filled with love to Jesus ; and more ejaculatory prayer." " 17th, Sabbath. — that I may remember my own word this day: that the hour of communion is the hour for the foxes — tlie little foxes — to spoil the vine. Two things that defile this day in looking back, are Jove of praise running through all, and consenting to REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 53 listen to worldly talk at all. that these may keep me humble and be my burden, leading me to the cross. Then, Satan, thou wilt be outwitted V " 19th. — Died, this day, W. McCheyne, my cousin- german. Relief minister, Kelso. how I repent of our vain controversies on Establishments when we last met, and that we spoke so little of Jesus. that we had spoken more one to another. Lord, teach me to be always speaking as dying to dying.'^ "24th. — Dunipace Communion. — Heard Mr. Pur- ves, of Jedburgh, preach, ' Therefore with joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation.' The only way to come to ordinances, and to draw from the well, is to come with the matter of acceptance settled, believing God's anger to be turned away. Truly a precious view of the freeness of the gospel very refreshing. My soul needs to be roused much to apprehend this truth.'' Above {Juli/ 3), he spoke of "mingling experience with the genuine truth as it is in Jesus." It is to this that he refers again, in the last paragraph. His deep acquaintance with the human heart and passions often led him to dwell at greater length, not only on those topics whereby the sinner might be brought to disco- ver his guilt, but also on marks that would evidence a change, than on " the Glad Tidings." And yet he ever felt that these blessed tidings, addressed to souls in the very gall of bitterness, were the true theme of the minister of Christ ; and never did he preach other than a full salvation ready for the chief of sinners. From the very first, also, he carefully avoided the error of those who rather speculate or doctrinize about the gospel, than preach the gospel itself Is not the true idea of preaching simply that of one, like Ahi- maaz, coming with all-important tidings, and intent on making these tidings known ? Occupied with the facts he has to tell, he has no heart to speculate on mere abstractions ; nay, he is apt to forget what lan- guage he employs, excepting so far as the very grandeur of the tidings gives a glow of eloquence to 5* 54 MEMOIR OF THE liis words. The glorious fact, " By this man is preached unto you the forgiveness of sins,"*^ is the burden of every sermon. The crier is sent to the openings of the gate by his Lord — to herald forth this one infinitely important truth through the whole crea- tion under heaven. He seems invariably to have applied for his personal benefit w^hat he gave out to his people. We have already noticed how he used to feed on the Word, not in order to prepare himself for his people, but for personal edification. To do so was a fundamental rule with him; and all pastors will feel that, if they are to prosper in their own souls, they must so use the word — sternly refusing to admit the idea of feeding others, until satiated themselves. And for similar ends, it is needful that we let the truth we have preached sink down into our own souls. We, as well as our peo- ple, must drink in the falhng shower. Mr. McCheyne did so. It is common to find him speaking thus : — ^' July 31, Sabbath. — Afternoon, on Judas betraying Christ ; much more tenderness than ever I felt before. that I might abide in the bosom of him who washed Judas' feet, and dipped his hand in the same dish with him, and warned him, and grieved over him — that I might catch the infection of his love, of his tenderness, so wonderful, so unfathomable." Coming home on a Sabbath evening {*^ug. 7th) from Torwood Sabbath-school, a person met him who suggested an opportunity of usefulness. There were two families of gypsies encamped in Torwood, within his reach. He was weary with a long day's labour ; but instantly, as was his custom at such a call, set off to find them. By the side of their wood-fire, he opened out the parable of the Lost Sheep, and pressed it on their souls in simple terms. He then knelt down in prayer for them, and left them somewhat impressed and very grateful. At this time a youthful parishioner, for whose soul he felt much anxiety, left his father's roof Ever watchful for souls, he seized this opportunity of lay- REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 5S ing before him more fully the things belonging to his peace. " Larbert, August 8, 1836. " My dear G , You will be surprised to hear from me. I have often wished to be better acquainted with you; but in these sad parishes we cannot manage to know and be intimate with every one we would desire. And now you have left your father's roof and our charge ; still my desires go after you, as well as the kind thoughts of many others ; and since I cannot now speak to you, I take this way of expressing my thoughts to you. I do not know in what light you look upon me, whether as a grave and morose minis- ter, or as one who miglit be a companion and friend ; but, really, it is so short a while since I was just like you, when I enjoyed the games which you now enjoy, and read the books which you now read, that I never can think of myself as anything more than a boy. This is one great reason why I write to you. The same youthful blood flows in my veins that flows in yours — the same fancies and buoyant passions dance in my bosom as in yours — so that, when I would persuade you to come with me to the same Saviour, and to walk the rest of your life ' led by the Spirit of God,' I am not persuading you to anything beyond your years. I am not like a greyheaded grandfatlier — then you might answer all I say by tell- ing me that you are a boy. No ; I am almost as much a boy as you are ; as fond of happiness and of life as you are ; as fond of scampering over the hills, and seeing all that is to be seen, as you are. "Another thing that persuades me to write you, my dear boy, is, that I have felt in my own experience the want of having a friend to direct and counsel me. I had a kind brother as you have, Avho taught me many things: he gave me a Bible, and persuaded me to read it ; he tried to train me as the gardener trains the apple-tree upon the wall, but all in vain. I thought myself far wiser than he, and would always take my own way; and many a time, I well remem- ber, I have seen him reading his Bible, or shutting 56 MEMOIR OF THE his closet-door to pray, when I have been dressing to go to some froUc, or some dance of folly. Well, this dear friend and brother died; and although his death made a greater impression upon me than ever his life had done, still I found the misery of being f?'iendless. I do not mean that I had no relations and worldly friends, for I had many; but I had no friend who cared for my soul. I had none to direct me to the Savionr — none to awaken my slumbering conscience — none to tell me about the blood of Jesus washing away all sin — none to tell me of the Spirit who is so willing to change the heart, and give the victory over passions. I had no minister to take me by the hand, and say, ' Come with me, and we will do thee good.' Yes, I had one friend and minister, but that was Jesus himself, and he led me in a way that makes me give him, and him only, all the praise. Now, though Jesus may do this again, yet the more common way with him is to use earthly guides. Now, if I could supply the place of such a guide to you, I should be happy. To be a finger-post is all that I want to be — pointing out the way. This is what I so much wanted myself — this is what you need not want, unless you wish. *' Tell me, dear G., would you work less pleasantly through the day — would you walk the streets with a more doleful step — would you eat your meat with less gladness of heart — would you sleep less tran- quilly at night, if you had the forgiveness of sins — that is, if all your wicked thoughts and deeds — lies, thefts, and Sabbath-breakings — were all blotted out of God's book of remembrance? Would this make you less happy, do you think? You dare not say it would. But would the forgiveness of sins not make you more happy than you are? Perhaps you will tell me that you are very happy as you are. I quite be- lieve you. 1 know that 1 was very happy when I was unforgiven. I know that I had great pleasure in many sins — in Sabbath-breaking for instance. Many a delightful walk I have had — speaking my own words, thinking my own thoughts, and seeking my REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 57 own pleasure on God's holy day. I fancy few boys were ever happier in an unconverted state than I was. No sorrow clouded my brow — no tears filled my eyes, unless over some nice story-book; so that I know that you say quite true, when you say that you are happy as you are. But ah! is not this just the saddest thing of all, that you should be happy whilst you are a child of wrath — that you should smile, and eat, and drink, and be merry, and sleep sound, when this very night you may be in hell. Happy while unforgiven ! — a terrible happiness. It is like the Hindoo widow who sits upon the funeral pile with her dead husband, and sings songs of joy when they are setting fire to the wood with which she is to be burned. Yes, vou mav be quite happy in this way, till you die, my boy; but when you look back from hell, you will say, it was a miserable kind of happiness. Now, do you think it would not give you more happiness to be forgiven — to be able to put on Jesus, and say, * God's anger is turned away? Would not you be happier at work, and happier in the house, and happier in your bed? I can assure you, from all that ever I have felt of it, the pleasures of being forgiven are as superior to the pleasures of an unforgiven man, as heaven is higher than hell. The peace of being forgiven reminds me of the calm, bine skv, which no earthly clamours can disturb. It lightens all labour, sweetens every morsel of bread, and makes a sick bed all soft and downy — yea, it takes away the scowl of death. Now, forgive- ness may be yours now. It is not given to those who are good. It is not given to any because they are less wicked than others. It is given only to those who, feeling that their sins have brought a curse on them which they cannot lift off, ^look unto Jesus,' as bear- ing all away. " Now, my dear boy, I have no wish to weary you. If you are anything like what I was, you will have yawned many a time already over this letter. How- ever, if the Lord deal graciously with you, and touch your young heart, as I pray he may, with a desire to be forgiven, and to be made a child of God, perhaps 58 MEMOIR OF THE you will not take ill what I have written to you in much haste. As this is the first time you have been away from home, perhaps you have not learned to write letters yet ; but if you have, I would like to hear from you, how you come on — what convictions you feel, if you feel any — what difficulties — what parts of the Bible puzzle you; and then I would do my best to unravel them. You read your Bible regularly, of course; but do try to understand it, and still more, to feel it. Read more parts than one at a time. For example, if you are reading Genesis, read a Psalm also; or, if you are reading Matthew, read a small bit of an epistle also. Turn the Bible into prayer. Thus, if you were reading the first Psalm, spread the Bible on the chair before you, and kneel and pray, ' Lord, give me the blessedness of the man,' &c. 'Let me not stand in the counsel of the ungodly,' &c. This is the best way of knowing the meaning of the Bible, and of learning to pray. In prayer confess your sins by name — going over those of the past day one by one. Pray for your friends by name — father, mother, &c., &c. If you love them, surely you will pray for their souls. I know well that there are pray- ers constantly ascending for you from your own house ; and will you not pray for them back again ? Do this regularly. If you pray sincerely for others, it will make you pray for yourself. ^' But I must be done. Good bye, dear G. Re- member me to your brother kindly, and believe me your sincere friend, R. M. M." It is the shepherd's duty (Ezek. xxxiv. 4,) in visit- ing his flock, to discriminate; "strengthening the dis- eased, healing that which was sick, binding up that which was broken, bringing again that which was driven away, seeking that which was lost." This Mr. McCheyne tried to do. In an after-letter to Mr. So- merville, of Anderston, in reference to the people of these parishes, whom he had had means of knowing, he wrote, "Take more heed to the saints than ever I did. Speak a word in season to S. M. S. H. will REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 59 drink in simple truth, but tell him to be humble-mind- ed. Cause L. H. to learn in silence; speak not of religion to her, but speak to her case always. Teach A. M. to look simply at Jesus. J. A. warn and teach. Get worldiiness from the B.'s, if you can. JVIrs. G. awake, or keep awake. Speak faithfully to the B.'s. Tell me of M. C, if she is really a believer, and grows? A. K., has the light visited her? M. T. I have had some doubts of M. G. lies sore upon my conscience; I did no good to that woman; she always managed to speak of things about the truth. Speak boldly. What matter in eternity the slight awkward- nesses of time?'' It Avas about this time that the managers and con- gregation of the new church, St. Peter's, Dundee, invited him to preach as one of the candidates; and, in the end of August, chose him to be their pastor, with one accord. He accepted the call under an awful sense of the work that lay before him. He would rather, he said, have made choice for himself of such a rural parish as Dunipace; but the Lord seemed to desire it otherwise. " His ways are in the sea." More than once, at a later period, he would sa}^, ^'We might have thought that God would have sent a strong man to such a parish as mine, and not a feeble reed." The first day he preached in St. Peter's as a candi- date {^August 14th,) is thus recorded: "Forenoon- Mind not altogether in a preaching frame; on the Sower. Afternoon — With more encouragement and help of the Spirit; on the Voice of the beloved in Cant. ii. S-17. In the evening — With all my heart; on Ruth. Lord, keep me humble." Returning from St. Peter's, the second time, he observed in his class of girls at Dunipace more than usual anxiety. One of them seemed to be thoroughly awakened that even- ing. '•' Thanks be to thee. Lord, for anything," he writes that evening; for as yet he had sown without seeing fruit. It seems to have been part of the Lord's dealing with him, thus to teach him to persevere in duty and in faith, even where there was no obvious success. The arrow that was yet to wound hundreds 60 MEMOIR OF THE was then receiving its point; but it lay in the quiver for a time. The Lord seemed to be touching his own heart and melting it by what he spoke to others, rather than touching or melting the hearts of those he spoke to. But from the day of his preaching hi St. Peter's, tokens of success began. His first day there, especially the evening sermon on Ruth, was blessed to two souls in Dundee; and now he sees souls begin to melt under his last words in the parish where he thought he had hitherto spent his strength in vain. As he was now to leave this sphere, he sought out with deep anxiety a labourer who would help their overburdened pastor, in true love to the people's souls. He believed he had found such a labourer in JNIr. Somerville, his friend who had shared his every thought and feeling in former days, and who, with a sharp sickle in his hand, was now advancing toward the harvest field. '•' I see plainly," he wrote to Mr. Bonar, '• that my poor attempts at labour in your dear parish will soon be eclipsed. But if at length the iron fi'ont of unbelief give way, if the hard faces become furrowed with the tears of anxiety and of faith, under whatever ministry, you will rejoice, and I will rejoice, and tiie angels, and the Father and God of angels will rejoice." It was in this spirit that he closed his short ten months of labour in this region. His last sermons to the people of Larbert and Duni- pace were on Hosea xiv. 1, " Israel, return unto the Lord thy God ;" and Jeremiah viii. 20, " Harvest is past." In the evening he writes, " Lord, I feel bowed down because of the little I have done for them which thou mightest have blessed ! My bowels yearn over them, and all the more that I have done so little. Indeed I might have done ten times as much as I have done. I might have been in every house ; I might have spoken always as a minister. Lord, canst thou bless partial, unequal elforts ?" I believe it was about this time that some of us, first of all, began our custom of praying specially for each other on Saturday evening, with a reference to REV. R. M. McGHEYXE. 61 our engagements in the ministry next day. This concert for prayer we have never since seen cause to discontinue. It has from time to time been widened in its circle; and as yet his has been the only v^oice that has been silenced of all that thus began to go in on each other's behalf before the Lord. Mr. McCheyne never failed to remember this time of prayer. ^' Lar- bert and Dunipace are always on my heart, especially on the Saturday evenings, when I pray for a glorious Sabbath!" On one occasion, in Dundee, he was asked if the accumulation of business in his parish never led him to neglect the season of prayer on a busy Saturday; his reply was, that he was not aware that it ever did. " What would my people do, if I were not to pray ?" So steady was he in Sabbath preparations, from the first day to the last time he was with them, that though at prayer-meetings, or similar occasions, he did not think it needful to have much laid up before coming to address his people ; yet, anxious to give them on the Sabbath what liad cost him somewhat, he never without an urgent reason, went before them without much previous meditation and prayer. His principle on this subject was embodied in a remark he made to some of us who were conversing on the matter. Being asked his view of diligent preparation for the pulpit, he replied — ^'Beaten oil — beaten oil for the lamps of the sanctuary. ^^^- And yet his prayerfulness was greater still. Indeed, he could not neglect fellowship with God before entering the congregation. He needed to be bathed in the love of God. His ministry was so much a bringinsr out of views that had first sanctified his own soul, that the healthiness of his soul was absolutely needful to the vigour and power of his ministrations. During these ten months the Lord had done much for him, but it was chiefly in the way of discipline for a future ministry. He had been taught a minis- ter's heart ; he had been tried in the furnace ; he had * See Exodus xxvii. 20. 6 G2 MEMOIR OF THE tasted deep personal sorrow, little of which has been recorded; he had felt the fiery darts of temptation; he had been exercised in self-examination and in much prayer; he had proved how flinty is the rock, and had learned that in lifting the rod by which it was to be smitten, success lay in Him alone who enabled him to lift it up. And thus prepared of God for the peculiar work that awaited him, he turned his face towards Dundee, and took up his abode in the spot where the Lord was so marvellously to visit him in his ministry. CHAPTER HI. FIRST YEARS OF LABOUR IN DUNDEE. Ye know, from the first day that I came into Asia, after what man- ner I have been with you at all seasons, serving- the Lord with all humility of mind, and with many tears and temptations. — Acts XX. 18, 19. The day on which he was ordained pastor of a tlock. was a day of much anxiety to his soul. He had jour- neyed by Perth to spend the night preceding under the roof of his kind friend Mr. Grierson, in the manse of Errol. Next morning, ere he left the manse, three passages of Scripture occupied his mind. 1. '• Thou shalt keep him in j:terfect peace ivhose mind is stayed 071 thee ; because he ti^usteth in thee. ^^ Isaiah xxvi. 3. This verse was seasonable; for, as he sat medi- tating on the solemn duties of the day. his heart trem- bled. 2. '• Give thyself wholly to these things.''^ 1 Tim. iv. 15. May that word (he prayed) sink deep into my heart. 3. " Here am /, send me.'^ Isaiah vi. 8. " To go or to stay — to be here till death, or to visit foreign shores — whatsoever, wheresoever, when- soever thou pleasest." He rose from his knees with the prayer, " Lord, may thy grace come with the lay- ing on of the hands of the Presbytery." REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 63 He was ordained on November 24, 1836. The service was conducted by Mr. Roxburgh of St. Jolin's, through whose exertions the new church had been erected, and who ever afterwards cherished the most cordial friendship towards him. On the Sabbath fol- lowing, he was introduced to his flock by Mr. John Bonar of Larbert, with whom he had laboured as a son in the Gospel. Himself preached in the afternoon upon Isaiah Ixi. 1 — 3, '^ The Spirit of the Lord is upon 7716,'' &c. — of which he writes, " May it be pro- phetic of the object of my coming here!" And truly it was so. That very sermon — -the first preached by him as a pastor — was the means of awakening souls as he afterwards learned; and ever onward the impres- sions left by his words seemed to spread and deej)en among his people. To keep up the remembrance of this solemn day, he used in all the subsequent years of his ministry to preach from this same text on the anniversary of his ordination.* In the evening of that day, Mr. Bonar again preached on " The times ofrefreshingP " A noble sermon, showing the marks of such times. Ah ! when shall we have them here } Lord, bless this word, to help their coming! Put thy blessing upon this day ! Felt given over to God, as one bought with a price. ^^ There was a rapid growth in his soul, perceptible to all who knew him well, from this time. Even his pulpit preparations, he used to say, became easier from this date. He had earnestly sought that the day of his ordination might be a time of new grace; he expected it would be so; and there was a peculiar work to be done by his hands, for which the Holy Spirit did specially prepare him. His diary does not contain much of his feelings during his residence in Dundee. His incessant labours left him little time, except what he scrupulously spent in the direct exercises of devotion. But what we have seen of his manner of study and self-examina- * " The Acceptable Year of the Lord" was one of the anniversary lectures preached, November, 1840. 64 MEMOIR OF THE tion at Larbert, is sufficient to show in what a constant state of cultivation his soul was kept; and his habits in these respects continued with him to the last. Jere- my Taylor recommends — '' If thou meanest to enlarge thy religion, do it rather by enlarging thine ordinary devotions than thy extraordinary." This advice de- scribes very accurately the plan of spiritual life on which Mr. McCheyne acted. He did occasionally set apart seasons for special prayer and fasting, occupying the time so set apart exclusively in devotion. But the real secret of his soul's prosperity lay in the daily en- largement of his heart in fellowship with his God. And the river deepened as it flowed on to eternity ; so that he at last reached that feature of a holy pas- tor which Paul pointed out to Timothy, (1 Tim. iv. 15.) — " His profiting did appear to all." In his own house every thing was fitted to make you feel that the service of God was a cheerful ser- vice, while he sought that every arrangement of the family should bear upon eternity. His morning hours were set apart for the nourishment of his own soul ; not, however, with the view of laying up a stock of grace for the rest of the day — for manna will corrupt if laid by — but rather with the view of "giving the eye the habit of looking upward all the day, and drawing down gleams from the reconciled counte- nance." He was sparing in the hours devoted to sleep, and resolutely secured time for devotion before breakflist, although often wearied and exhausted when he laid himself to rest. " A soldier of the cross," was his remark, " must endure hardness." Often he sang a Psalm of praise, as soon as he arose, to stir up his soul. Three chapters of the word was his usual morning portion. This he thought little enough, for he delighted exceedingly in the Scriptures: they were better to him than thousands of gold or silver. "When you write," said he to a friend, "tell me the meaning of Scriptures." To another, in expressing his value for the word, he said, " One gem from that ocean is worth all the pebbles of earthly streams." His chief season of relaxation seemed to be break- REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 65 fast-time. He would come down with a happy coun- tenance and a full soul; and after the sweet season of family prayer, forthwith commence forming plans for the day. When he was well, nothing seemed to aiford him such true delight as to have his hands full of work. Indeed, it was often remarked that in him you found — what you rarely meet with — a man of high poetic imagination and deep devotion, Avho neverthe- less was engaged unceasingly in the busiest and most laborious activities of his office. His friends could observe how much his soul was engrossed durmg his times of study and devotion. If interrupted on such occasions, though he never seemed ruffled, yet there was a kind of gravity and silence that implied — •' I wish to be alone." But he farther aimed at enjoying God all the day. And referring on one occasion to those blank hours which so often are a believer's burden — hours during which the soul is dry and barren — he observed, '•- They are proofs of how little we are filled with the presence of God, liow little we are branch-like in our faith.'' This careful attention to the frame of his spirit did not hinder his preparation for his people : on the con- trary, it kept alive his deep conscientiousness, and kept his warm compassion ever yearning. When asked to observe a Saturday as a day of fasting and prayer, along with some others who had a special ob- ject in view, he replied — •'' Saturday is an awkward day for ministers; for though I love to seek help from on high, I love also diligently to set my tlioughts in order for the Sabbath. I sometimes fear that you fail in this latter duty.'-' During his first years in Dundee, he often rode out in an afternoon to the ruined church of Invergowrie, to enjoy an hour's perfect solitude ; for he felt medi- tation and prayer to be the very sinews of his work. vSuch notices, also, as the following show liis syste- matic pursuit of personal holiness : " Ajjvil 9, 1837. — Evening. — A very pleasant quiet- ness. Study of the Epistle to the Hebrews. Came to a more intelligent view of the first six chapters 66 MEMOIR OF THE than ever before. INIuch refreshed by John Newton; instructed by Edwards. Help and freedom in prayer. Lordj what a happy season is a Sabbatli evening ! What will heaven be !" ^^ Ajwil 16. — Sabbath Evening. — Much prayer and peace. Reading the Bible only." ^' Jujie 2. — Much peace and rest to-night. Much broken under a sense of my exceeding wickedness, which no eye can see but thine. JNIuch persuasion of the sufficiency of Christ, and of the constancy of his love. iiow sweet to work all day for God, and then to lie down at night under his smiles." '^ June 17, 1S3S. — At Dumbarney communion. Much sin and coldness two days before. Lay low at his feet ; found peace only in Jesus." " September 25. — Spent last week at Blairgowrie; I hope not in vain. Much sin, weakness, and useless- ness : much delight in the word also, while opening it np at family prayer. May God make the word fire. Opened 1 Thessalonians, the whole; enriching to my own mind. How true is Psalm i.; yet ob- served in my heart a strange proneness to be en- tangled with the affairs of this life; not strange be- cause I am good, but because I have been so often taught that bitterness is the end of it." " Se^yt. 27. — Devoted chief part of Friday to fast- ing. Humbled and refreshed." " Se2)t. 30. — Sabbath — Very happy in my work. Too little prayer in the morning. Must try to get early to bed on Saturday, that I may 'rise a great while before day.' " These early hours of prayer on Sabbath he endeavoured to have all his life; not for study, but for prayer. He never laboured at his ser- mons on a Sabbath. That day lie kept for its original end, the refreshmeiit of his soul. The parish of St. Peter's, to which he had come, was large and very destitute. It is situated at the west end of the town, and included some part of the adjacent country. The church was built in connec- tion with the Church Extension Scheme. The parish was a quoad sacra parish, detached from St. John's. REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 67 It contains a population of four thousand souls, very many of wliom never crossed the threshold of any sanctuary. His congregation amounted, at the very outset, to about one thousand one hundred hearers, one-third of whom came from distant parts of the town. Here was a wide field for parochial labour. It was also a very dead region — few, even of those who were living Christians, breathing their life on others; for the surrounding mass of impenetrable heathenism had cast its sad influence even over them. His first im- pressions of Dundee were severe. " A city given to idolatry and hardness of heart. I fear there is much of what Isaiah speaks of, ' The prophets prophesy lies, and the people love to have it so.' " His first months of labour were very trying. He was not strong in bodily health, and that winter a fatal influenza prevailed for two or three months, so that most of his time in his parish was spent in visit- ing the sick and dying. In such cases he was always ready. "Did I tell you of the boy I was asked to see on Sabbath evening, just when I had got myself comfortably seated at home ? I went and was speak- ing to him of the freeness and fulness of Jesus, when he gasped a little and died.'' In one of his first visits to tlie sick, the narrative of the Lord's singular dealings with one of his parish- ioners greatly encouraged him to carry the glad tidings to the distressed under every disadvantage. Four years before, a young woman had been seized with cholera, and was deprived of the use of speech for a whole year. The Bible was read to her, and men of God used to speak and pray with her. At the end of the year, her tongue was loosed, and the first words heard from her lips were praise and thanksgiving for what the Lord had done for her soul. It was in her chamber he was now standing, hearing from her own lips what the Lord had wrouglit. On anotlier occasion, during the first year of his ministry, he witnessed the death-bed conversion of a man who, till within a few days of his end, almost 68 MEMOIR OF THE denied that there was a God. This soHd conversion, as he beheved it to be, stirred him up to speak with all hopefulness, as well as earnestness, to the d^'ing. But it was, above all, to the children of God that his visitations seemed blessed. His voice, and his very eye, spoke tenderness ; for personal affliction had taught him to feel sympathy with the sorrowing. Though the following is an extract from a letter, yet it will be recognized by many as exhibiting his mode of dealing with God's afflicted ones in his visitations. "There is a sweet word in Exodus (iii. 7), which was pointed out to me the other day by a poor bereaved child of God — ' I know their sorrows.' Study that ; it fills the soul. Another word like it is in Psalm ciii. 14 — ^ He knoweth our frame.' INIay your own soul, and that of your dear friends, be fed by these things. A dark hour makes Jesus bright. Another sweet word — 'They knew not that it was Jesus.'" I find some specimens of his sick visits among his papers, noted down at a time when his work had not grown upon his hands. " January 25, 1S37 — Visited Mt. JMcBain, a young woman of twenty-four, long ill of decline. Better or worse these ten years past. Spoke of ' the one thing needful,^ plainly. She sat quiet. February 14th — Had heard she was better — found her near dying. Spoke plainly and tenderly to her, commending Christ. Used many texts. She put out her hand kindly on leaving. 15th — Still dying- like ; spoke as yesterday. She never opened her eyes. 16th — Showed her the dreadfulness of wrath; free- ness of Christ ; the majesty, justice, and truth of God. Poor ^I. is fast going the way whence she shall not return. Many neighbours also always gather in. 17th — Read Psalm xxii. ; showed the sufierings of Christ; how sufficient an atonement ; how feelins: a \\\z\\ priest. She breathed loud, and groaned through pain. Died this evening at seven. I hardly ever heard her speak anything; and I will hope that thou art with Christ in glory, till I go and see. 20th — Prayed at her funeral. Saw her laid in St. Peter's church-yard, the first laid there, by her own desire, in the fresh REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 69 mould where man never was laid. ]\Iay it be a token that she is with Him who was laid in a new tomb." He records another case. '•^ January A. 1837 — Sent for to ]Mrs. S . Very i]l: asthmatic. Spoke on 'no condemnation to them that are in Christ.' She said, 'But am 1 iu Christ?' seemingly very anxi- ous — said she had often been so, and Iiad let it go by. 5th, — Still living ; spoke to her of Christ, and of full salvation. (JMyself confined in the house till the 16th.) 16th, — Much worse. Not anxious to hear, yet far from rest. Dark, uneasy eye. Asked me, ' What is it to believe? Spoke to her on ' God, loho made light shine out of darkness.' She seemed to take up nothing. Lord, help ! 17th, — Still worse ; wear- ing away. No smile; no sign of inward peace. Spoke of ' Remember me' Went over the whole gospel in the form of personal address. She drowsy. 18th, — Quieter. ' My Lord and my God.' She spoke at intervals. More cheerful ; anxious that I should not go without prayer. Has much knowledge; complete command of the Bible. 19th, — Spoke on ' convincing of sin and righteousness.' Rather more heart to hear. 20th, — Psalm li. Her look and her words were lightsome. 23d, — Faintish and restless; no sign of peace. • I am the icay' and Psalm xxv. 24th, — Still silent, and little sign of any thing. 26th, — Psalm x\. ' The fearful jnt.' Very plain. Could not get any thing out of her. Fehruay^y 1st, — Died at twelve, noon : no visible mark of hght, or comfort, or hope. The day shall declare it." One other case. "'February 5, 1839. — Called sud- denly in the evening. Found him near death. Care- less family. Many round him. Spoke of the freeness and sufficiency of Jesus, '■Come unto me' &c., and ' The wrath of God revealed from heaven.' Told him he was going where he would see Christ; asked him if he wished him to be his saviour ? He seemed to an- swer; his father said, ' He is saying, yes.' But it was the throe of death. One or two indescribable gasps, and he died! I sat silent, and let God preach. 7th, — 70 MEMOIR OF THE Spoke of the ^Widoiv of Nain,^ and ^Behold, I stand at the door."* '^ Attendance at funerals was often to him a season of much exercise. Sliould it not be to all ministers a time for solemn inquiry? Was I faithful with tliis soul? Could this soul have learned salvation from me every time I saw him? And did I pray as fervently as I spoke? And if we have tender pity for souls, we will sometimes feel as Mr. McCheyne records. ^^ Sept em- ber 24. — Buried A. M. Felt bitterly the word, ^ If any man draw back,' &c. Never had more bitter feelings at any funeral.'' All who make any pretension to the office of shep- herd visit their flocks ;'^ yet there is a wide difference in the kind of visits which shepherds give. One does it formally, to discharge his duty and to quiet con- science; another makes it his delight. And of those who make it their delight, one goes forth on the regu- lar plan of addressing all in somewhat of the same style; while another speaks freely, according as the wounds of his sheep come to view. On all occasions, this difficult and trying work must be gone about with a full heart, if it is to be gone about successfully at all. There is little in it to excite, for there is not the pre- sence of numbers, and the few you see at a time are in their calmest, every-day mood. Hence there is need of being full of grace, and need of feeling as though God did visit every hearer by your means. Our object is not to get duty done, but to get souls saved. Mr. McCheyne used to go forth in this spirit; and often after visiting from house to house for several hours, he would return to some room in the place in the evening, and preach to the gathered families. " September 26, 1S3S. — Good visiting-day. Twelve families; many of them go nowhere. It is a great thing to be well furnished by meditation and prayer before setting out; it makes j-ou a far more full and * Baxter says, " I dare prognosticate from knowledge of the na- ture of true grace, that all godly ministers will make conscience of this duty, and address themselves to it, unless they be, by some ex- traordinary accident, disabled." — Reformed Pastor. REV. R. M. McCHEYNE. 71 faithful witness. Preached in A. F.'s house on Job, ^ I know that my Redeemer liveth.^ Very sweet and precious to myself." Partly from his state of health, and partly from the vast accumulation of other labours, and the calls made on him for evangelizing elsewhere, he was never able to overtake the visitation of the whole district assign- ed him. He was blessed to attract and reclaim very many of the most degraded ; and by Sabbath-schools, and a regular eldership, to take superintendence of the population, to a great extent. Still he himself often said that his parish had never fully shared in the ad- vantages that attend an aggressive system of parochial labour. Once, when spending a day in the rural parish of CoUace, as we went in the afternoon from door to door, and spoke to the children whom we met on the road-side, he smiled and said, " Well, how I envy a country minister; for he can get acquainted with all his people, and have some insight into their real character." Many of us thought that he after- wards erred, in the abundant frequency of his evan- gelistic labours at a time when he was still bound to a particular flock. He had an evening-class every week for the young people of his congregation. The Catechism and the Bible were his text books, while he freely introduced all manner of useful illustrations. He thought him- self bound to prepare diligently for his classes, that he might give accurate and simple explanations, and unite what was interesting with the most solemn and awakening views. But it was his class for young com- municants that engaged his deepest care, and wherein he saw most success. He began a class of this kind previous to his first communion, and continued to form it again some weeks before every similar occa- sion. His tract, published in 1840, " This do in re- niemhrance of Tne^^^ may be considered as exhibiting the substance of his solemn examinations on these occasions. He usually noted down his first impressions of his communicants, and compared these notes with what he afterwards saw in them. Thus: "M. K., sprightly 72 MEMOIR OF THE and lightsome, yet sensible ; she saw plainly that the converted alone should come to the Table, but stum- bled at the question, If she was converted? Yet she claimed being awakened and brought to Christ/' Another : " Very staid, intelligent-like person, with a steady kind of anxiety, but, I fear, no feeUng of helplessness. Thought that sorrow and prayer would obtain forgiveness. Told her plainly what I thought of her case." Another: "Knows she was once Christ- less ; now she reads and prays, and is anxious. I doubt not there is some anxiety, yet I fear it may be only a self-reformation to recommend herself to God and to man. Told her plainly." "A. M., I fear much for him. Gave him a token with much anxiety: warned him very much." " C. P. does not seem to have any work of anxiety. He reads prayer- books, &:c. Does not pray in secret. Seems not very intellisfent." He sought to encourage Sabbath-schools in all the districts of his parish. The hymn, " Oil for the Lanip,''^ was written to impress the parable on a class of Sabbath scholars, in 1S43. Some of his sweet, simple tracts were written for these schools. '' Reasons ivhy Children should Jly to Chrisf^ was the first, written at the New Year, 1839; and " The Lambs of the Flock'' ^ was another at a later period. His heart felt for the young. One evening, after visiting some of his Sabbath-schools, he writes: "Had considerable joy in teaching the children. for real heart-work among them !" He could accommodate himself to their capacities ; and he did not reckon it vain to use his talents in order to attract their attention ; for he regarded tlie soul of a child as infinitely precious. Ever watchful for opportunities,on the blank leaf of a book which he sent to a little boy of his congre- gation, he wrote these simple lines : — Peace be to thee, gentle boy ! Many years of licaltii and joy ! Love your Bible more tlian play — Grow in wisdom every day. Like the lark on hovering wing", Early rise, and momit and sing ; REV. R. M. McCHEY.N'E. 73 Like the d