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EngTOA-ecL by O- J StociarV
a,pKotograp}xfhy EU,u>ti>& Fry.
ALEXANDER RA-LEIGH
A&C BlackEdubuigb
ALEXANDER RALEIGH
Ex Libris
C. K. OGDEN
ALEXANDEE EALEIGH
EECOEDS OF HIS LIFE
EDITED BY
MARY RALEIGH
"... The healing of tlie world
Is in its nameless saints. Each separate star
Seems nothing, but a myriad scattered stars
Break up the niglit and make it beautiful."
Bayard Taylok.
EDINBUEaH
ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK
1881
All riirhts reserved.
Printed ly R. & R. Clark, Edinburgh.
PREFATORY NOTE.
I WISH here to express my thanks to the friends who
have kindly furnished me with letters for this volume,
or contributed personal recollections, or who have
spoken to me words of encouragement in my work.
My special thanks are due to my nephew, Mr. Thomas
Ealeigh, of Lincoln's Inn, who has revised all my
MSS., and given me much help in the arrangement
of my materials. These pages were in print before
the tidings came of the death of Dr. Enoch Mellor.
He has taken his place in the unbroken procession
which is ever passing from the Church on earth to
the Church in heaven. His words about his friend
are memorial now in a double sense.
The outlines given here of my husband's life are
intended chiefly for those who knew and loved' him.
^ (r\
A f\ClA Q
vi PREFACE.
A book is a poor medium by -wliicli to convey a full
impression of any life. The shifting lights, — the
colours that fade or deepen on the spiritual horizon
as the years come and go, — may in part be seen and
remembered, but can hardly at all be expressed in
words. Those who knew him will be able to read
between the lines, with the clear sight of affection,
something of what cannot be written. A selection
only has been given from my husband's letters and
papers, in order that the volume might be kept within
moderate compass.
I have tried to be true as he was, and while
giving — from his own hand as much as possible —
enough of details to fill up the picture, I have had
a loyal regard to his characteristic reticence.
M. E.
Granton House,
Edinburgh, 18th November ISSl.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Galloway — Boyhood .... 1
CHAPTER n.
Liverpool — Business Life . . • .12
CHAPTER m.
College . . • • • • ^°
CHAPTER IV.
Greenock — First Charge . . . .29
CHAPTER V.
Failure of Health
36
CHAPTER VI.
Rotherham . . • • • .45
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VII.
PAOE
Rotherham^Marri.\qe and Domestic Life . 58
CHAPTER VIII.
Glasgow . . . . .70
CHAPTER IX.
London — Hare Court . . . .89
CHAPTER X.
London — Hare Court — Continued . . .105
CHAPTER XL
America — Chairmanship of the Union . .125
CHAPTER XII.
Letters of Counsel and Consolation . .148
CHAPTER XIII.
Switzerland . . . , . .171
CHAPTER XIV.
Lectures on Preaching . . . .189
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XV.
PAGE
Methods of the Preacher . . . .207
CHAPTER XVI.
Hare Court and Stamford Hill — Pressure of Work 223
CHAPTER XVn,
Journey to Egtpt . . . . .238
CHAPTER XVm.
Palestine ...... 249
CHAPTER XIX.
Kensington . . . . . .265
CHAPTER XX.
Last Days ...... 289
Index . . . , . . 305
"What he could have done iu this lower house, he is now upon
that same service in the higher House ; and it is all one, it is the
same sei-vice and the same IMastei-, only there is a change of con-
ditions." — Samuel RuTHEnroKD.
CHAPTEE I.
GALLOWAY — BOYHOOD.
" Pure livers were they all : austere and grave,
And fearing God ; the very children taught
Stern self-respect, a reverence for God's Word,
And an habitual piety, maintained
With strictness scarcely known on English ground."
Wordsworth.
Alexander Ealeigh, the fourtli son and fifth child of
a family of nine, was born at the Flock- a farm-house
near Castle-Douglas, in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright,
on the 3d of January 1817. His grandfather, Thomas
Ealeigh, was a man of great integrity and force of
character. His powers of mind were such ^ as to com-
mand a position of authority among his neighbours.
As they made their way from church or from field-
preaching on the Sabbath-day, discussions would often
arise, and on these occasions it was observed that what-
ever the subject was, Thomas Ealeigh would never rest
till he had " torn it abroad to the outmost." His son,
Thomas Ealeigh, the tenant of. the Flock, was of a less
argumentative disposition, somewhat silent and reserved
B
2 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
in manner, of few words, but of fervent spirit. He is
remembered to tliis day in that coimtry-side for his
straightforward simplicity and iipriglitness. " There
was a stern faithfulness in the soul of the man," said
one who knew him well ; and the little community
amongst whom he lived believed so fully in his impar-
tial discernment that they sometimes referred local
disputes to his decision. On one occasion a married
couple who had separated on account of incompati-
bility of temper came to him to ask him to ?'e-marry
them, believing that " Thomas Ealeigh's prayer " might
go far to enable them to begin again with better hope
of happiness. He did actually marry them, " at a dyke-
side," although with what result we are not told.
His wife, Isabella Ealeigh, was a woman of brilliant
gifts, possessed of a lively imagination, and almost
universal sympathy. At the time of her marriage it
was said of her husband and of her, by one whose
opinion carried oracular weight, "There was not, in
twelve parishes, such a couple for sense, character, and
intelligence".
The Flock was a small farm, and father, mother, and
children too as they grew up, had to work hard to
make ends meet ; and as may be supposed, a heavy
share of the burden fell upon the wife and mother.
When, now and then, bad harvests, loss of stock, or
other contingencies made the struggle almost desperate,
herspiiit never quailed. "Mrs. Raleigh," people .said,
" was happiest when she had a difficulty to face," and
it is certain that she had a heroic joy in the conflict
GALLOWAY— BOYHOOD. 3
with circumstances. She encountered cheerfully all
the difficulties of small means, a small house, and a
large family, and managed to' preserve, in spite of many
labours and anxieties, her love of reading, and Jier
interest in poetry and speculative theology. She has
herself told how, seated at her spinning-wheel (for all
the wool for the family clothing was spun at home)
with her foot ready to touch the rocker of the cradle at
her side, she used to have a favourite book propped up
before her, that she might steal a few sentences as she
could. Her memory was stored with passages from the
Bible, as well as from Milton, Thomson, and other poets,
which she loved to repeat to her children as they
gathered round the fireside. One of their favourite
amusements was to recite single verses from the Psalms,
challenging their mother to tell where these were to be
found, and also to give the context, and she generally
succeeded in doing both. When she went to market in
the nearest town, the treasure brought back was often
a book, sometimes one in Latin for the boys. It was
from her that Alexander inherited his early love of
reading; and from her, too, perhaps even more than
from his father, came that rugged originality which
made his tenderness seem only more tender.
Thomas Ealeigh and his wife were attached, by
habit and by conviction, to the small sect wliich takes
(or -took till recently) its name from Eichard Cameron
the Covenanter — the remnant of pure Presbyterians
who, after 1689, continued to protest against the errors
of an Erastian Church and an " uncovenanted " State.
4 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
The Cameronian body was never numerous ; its churches
were few, but it possessed, sixty years ago, more than
one preacher of exceptional power. Of these the chief
was John Osborne of Dumfries, whose sermons com-
bined in a remarkable manner the old-fashioned Puritan
fidelity to the letter of Scripture, with a speculative
freedom wliich often carried Imn far beyond the limits
of the Westminster Confession. After the work of the
day was over, and the family assembled round the fire
in the winter evenmgs, or lingered in neighbourly talk
at the door in the long summer twilight, great questions
in theology, suggested by the Sabbath teachings, would
be discussed and new views of doctrine considered.
So late as 1873 Dr. Ealeigh, in a note of thanks to
a friend for the gift of Reflections and Reminiscences by
Dr. M'Leod Campbell, says : — " The book takes me back
to my boyhood. I can remember distinctly how the
'Eow Heresy' was talked of at my father's fireside,
and also distinctly that my mother and he inclined to
it as no heresy, but the truth — thus giving umbrage to
some of the stricter sort. I have some remembrance,
too, of the way in which the matter touched my first
religious thoughts ; it came like a breeze from the hills,
blowing away something that I felt even then to be
oppressive."
In fields and on hill-sides vast congregations would
assemble, even on a winter Sabbath, to hear Osborne or
any other of the orators of Cameronianism. These
open-air services were long, extending, with two short
intervals, from the forenoon of the Sabbath till the
GALLOWAY— BOYHOOD. 5
shadows of evening fell. In later years Mrs. Ealeigh
used to express surprise if any one in her hearing com-
plained of the length of a modern sermon, and would
describe in fervent language those Sabbaths of solemn
worship, the sermons which never seemed too long ; and
told how, when the moon had risen, the services of the
day used to close with a psalm, which went up " a storm
of music from the hiU." In fact, the religion of those
people was their all. Not only did it bring to them
immortal hopes, but it supplied interest and romance
and intellectual food to lives that would otherwise have
been poor. The distractions of travel, and the interest
of the daily press and the public library, were almost
unknown, and perhaps on that very account the one
great theme had space to live and grow till it filled and
covered all their life.
It was at one of the " field preachings " that Alex-
ander Ealeigh was baptised ; and among the memories
of his boyhood none stood out more clearly than the
open-air communion Sabbaths — the green hill-side, the
white-covered tables, and the hushed interest of the
hearers, who followed the preacher from point to point
of his elaborate discourse. The fifthlies and sixthlies
were not always retained by tlie childish mind ; but in
the air and sunlight, with hills and sky to look at, even
the children did not tire. Some phrase of the long
oration, some text quoted with impressive elocution,
would be caught up and remembered, to be recalled
after many days.
One of Osborne's striking texts, " / '10111 not eat till I
6 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
have told mine errand" (Geu. xxiv. 33), chosen by Dr.
Ealeigh, in Canonbury, for a discourse of his own,
brought back to him, after long years, these unforgotten
Sabbaths.
" I go back nearly forty years, when I was so young
that I could remember only this text, discoursed from on
a sacramental occasion, by a famous preacher, for well-nigh
an hour and a-half He spoke from a tent in a green field
on a clear summer day, the communion tables covered
Avith the linen clean and white, spread out waiting their
occupants, who came to sit down at communion after the
sermon Avas over, and during the singing of a psalm.
Although the preacher spoke so long, no one seemed to
weary, unless it were some of us boys and girls. But we
did not weary much. We had the consolation of the
green grass -, we had the help of the daisies. We heard
the bird sing and watched its flight, and saw the solemn
movement of the cloud. And the sound of the preacher's
voice was solemn ; and the awe-struck, desiring look of the
people — nearly two thousand of them — almost as if they
expected a visit on that day and in that place from their
" risen Lord. The whole formed a picture and a scene not
likely to be forgotten."
From the Flock it was a mile or more across the
fields to Buittle parish scliool, where Alexander Ealeigh
received the first rudiments of his education. But
before he had passed beyond the spelling-book stage, in
the year 1825, the pressure of hard times forced his
father to surrender the farm and to remove with his
family to Castle-Douglas ; and the boys were thus
transferred to the high school of that town. The
GALLOWAY— BOYHOOD. 7
programme of a liigli school was not in those days
much more ambitious than that of a parish school. A
good knowledge of English and arithmetic, an excellent
style of handwriting, and perhaps tlie elements of
Latin — such was the equipment with which the youth
of Castle-Douglas began the world. Among his school-
fellows Alexander Ealeigh was regarded as a boy of
good but not shining ability. .He was a good worker,
obstinate, indomitable, e^^ger to lead and to excel ; not
always willing to fight, but a formidable enemy when once
committed to a quarrel. In after years his brothers and
: sisters were sometimes reminded of incidents which ex-
hibited his boyish temper ; how, for instance, he nearly
made an end of himself by attempting an impossible leap
over a " moss-hole." A moss-hole in Scottish speech
is the bed from wliich peat or turf has been taken for
fuel. It is often of considerable depth, and is filled with
black moss-water. One day Alexander, aged four, and
his brother Samuel were jumping over one of these
black pools — first from the ground, then from one peat,
then from two. " I'll do it from three," shouted the
younger boy ; but the peats slipped, and next moment
nothing was seen of him but two little feet above the
water. Providentially, the father was at hand to draw
the child out, and to carry him home in his big, blue
coat. It is remembered, also, how, after much provo-
cation, he vanquished the bully of the Castle-Douglas
school, and how he was suspended over a bridge, head
downward, for what seemed a long time, because he
refused to submit to the dictation of an older lad who
8 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
wanted him to say a profane word. At home lie was
considered then somewhat deficient in the milder
virtues ; and his mother has been heard to say that
none of her children owed less to nature and more to
grace, in the matter of terrper, than Alexander, and
that in none was the victory more complete.
The home Thomas Ealeigh had to give his children
is typical of not a few Scottish homes of that day, and
is perhaps less common now than it once was. There
were no luxuries there ; the work was hard and the
fare was very plain — oatmeal porridge and Scotch broth
formed the staple food of the farm, with tea, then very
costly, added occasionally. Amusements were few ;
indeed, the theory of life adopted by the old Covenanters
still held its ground, and pleasure was relegated to a
very secondary place. Conventional refinements were
little regarded, but there was the culture that comes
with " thoughts that look before and after" — the eleva-
tion of character given by Faith in the Unseen, and the
nobility that knows not how to swerve from the path
of truth and duty. This hardy nurture of his child-
hood left its impress unmistakably on Alexander
Ealeigh; and although, like his native Galloway in
summer, his character came to be touched and softened
into beauty, there w^as always the strength of the
granite beneath. He even held that the granite itself
had some share in imparting to the character of the
men of Galloway a stability and power of endurance
like its own. This ojDinion is supported by the author
of Modern Painters. Euskin says, " The quiet streams,
GALLOWAY— BOYHOOD. 9
springs, and lakes are always of exquisite clearness,
and the sea whicli washes a granite coast is as un-
sullied as a flawless emerald. It is remarkable to what
an extent this intense purity in the country seems to
influence the character of its inhabitants. ... As far
as I remember, the inhabitants of granite countries
have always a force and healthiness of character, more
or less abated or modified, of course, according to the
other circumstances of their life, but still definitely
belonging to them as distinguished from the inhabitants
of the less pure districts of the hills."
Other influences went to mould the growing boy.
The country-side was beautiful, and it was alive with
memories of brave men and women who gave their
lives, as they themselves loved to put it, for " Christ's
Crown and Covenant." Their heroic story, lingering
among the moors and hills of Galloway, and woven
into the religious thought of the people, was of a kind
to stir the chivalrous instincts of boyhood. Sometimes
the whole district was roused to enthusiasm to do
honour to the heroes of the Covenant. Young Ealeigh
was present at the great gathering on Kirkconnel Moor,
where 10,000 people met to hold a religious service
over the grave of one of the martyrs shot down by
Claverhouse. Osborne preached one of his great ser-
mons on the occasion, and every village and hamlet for
many miles round sent its stream of people to the place
of meeting, only the very old and the little children
being left at home.
Memories, too, of a more savage bravery were abun-
10 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
dant ; for Galloway was the country of tlie Black
Douglas, and young Pialeigh joined in many a holiday
expedition to Thrieve Castle, the Douglas stronghold,
and kriew by heart the stories, some of them horrible
enough, of which it was the scene.
Of necessity the elder boys left the home early, to
make their own way in the world, and many years
afterwards Alexander Ealeigh used to recall his feel-
ings when it came to the turn of his favourite brother,
Samuel, the one next above himself in age, to leave his
father's house, " to seek his fortune." He was to go to
Edinburgh, which place loomed then, vast and myste-
rious, to the imagination of the younger boy. The
coach to Edinburgh from the South passed through
Castle-Douglas some time after midnight ; and the two
lads waited together at a corner of the village street
till it should come up. Alexander never forgot the
chill, choking sense of loneliness, and the baffled con-
sciousness of the unknown, which took possession of
him when his brother got on the top of the coach, and
passed swiftly into the darkness.
His progress at school must have been such as to
satisfy his teachers,, for when he left it he obtained by
their recommendation the place of tutor in a farmer's
family. His tutorial duties were combined with farm-
work : many a Scottish student earns in this way, by
the labour of his own hands and brain, the money
which enables him to enter a university. But young
lialeigh's ambition did not yet soar so high; he returned
to Castle -Douglas to be apprenticed to a draper, in
GALLOWAY— BOYHOOD. 11
1832, and remained in that employment some three
years. Before his time was out another family migra-
tion had taken place. Thomas Ealeigh, with all his
gifts of mind and character, was never a prosperous
man; he was now compelled to leave Castle -Douglas
and remove to Liverpool. Alexander, left behind alone,
was unhappy ; his apprenticeship was almost, com-
pleted, and his position becoming intolerable to him, he
left at last without waiting for his master's permission,
and made his way to Liverpool, where he rejoined his
family. In course of time a place was found for him
in the shop of Mr. White, a draper in Eanelagh Street ;
and with Mr. White he remained till he began to study
for the ministry.
CHAPTER 11.
LIVEKPOOL — BUSINESS LIFE.
" Nor with thy share of work be vexed,
Though incomplete and even perplexed,
It fits exactly to the next."
A. A. Proctoh.
It would be a great mistake to suppose that the years
which Alexander Ealeigh spent in active business did
nothing to fit him for the work of his life. He became
a good business man, clear and punctual in aU his
dealings, and well acquainted with what Caleb Garth,
in Middlcmarch — the novel he most admired — calls
"the nature of things." To the end of his life he
never cared to receive any of the small concessions
sometimes made to ministers on account of their sup-
posed ignorance of business. But he was beginning to
cherish hopes which the life of a successful trader was
not at all likely to satisfy. He had begun to read and
think for himself, and as he became conscious of his
powers, he longed to devote himself to some work quite
different from that in which he was engaged. But his
duty to his family and to his father, who was then
failing in health, kept him steady to his work, although
it was distasteful to him. All he earned was given to
LIVERPOOL— BUSINESS LIFE. 13
the common stock, and althongli he was anxious to
prosecute his own reading, he gave up much of his
scanty leisure to help his sisters in their studies.
Wlien Mr. White selected him to take charge of a
ne\yly- opened branch of his business, young Ealeigh
thought less of his improved position and income than
of the increased independence which enabled him to
secure more time for his own studies and thoughts.
His intellectual bent was thus to some extent in con-
flict with his duty and interest as a business man. He
was troubled and oppressed by the feeling that he was
not in his right place. One of his brothers observed
that he was " an affecting instance of the round man in
the square hole." It was at this critical period that
Alexander Ealeigh came under the power of those
spiritual influences which were to mould and inspire
the whole of his future life.
When Thomas Ealeigh settled in Liverpool, he
wandered for a time from one place of worship to
another, finding none to take the place of the Scottish
preachers of his choice. At last, one Sunday he re-
turned home to his family with the announcement, " I
have found a man." The " man " in question was the
Kev. John Kelly, then beginning his Liverpool ministry
in Bethesda Chapel. The massive, doctrinal style and
the Puritan theology of this young Independent minis-
ter were very satisfying to the Scottish mind.
Over thoughtful men generally, and especi^ly over
young men, Mr. Kelly exercised an attractive and
formative influence of no ordinary power. His Sunday
14 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
evening Bible class, held in his own house, among
his boolvs, is remembered by many of those who
attended it as the birthplace of their higher life.
Among the members of that class, in the years of which
we are speaking, were Lockhart, Chisholm, and Ealeigh,
and many more who have done good work, tliough
their names are less known in the Churches. One of
these shall speak for all.
In 1873 Dr. Ealeigh presided at a meeting in the
Crescent Chapel, Liverpool, on the occasion of Mr.
Kelly's retirement. We quote a part of his opening
address : —
" I too am an old Liverpool man, or boy rather, for I
was little more than a lad when I came hither, now a long
time ago — not very long after Mr. Kelly himself. At any
rate, I very well remember the old Bethesda days. A
picture of the congregation as it then was — silent, thought-
ful, slightly Puritanic in its aspect, with the young minister
in the pulpit — is among the indelible things in my memor3^
I remember well the last sermon there, from the text
' Lord, I have loved the habitation of thy house and the
place where thine honour dwelleth ; ' and how, when the
preacher and pastor had touched, thankfully and tenderly,
on some of the triumphs of Divine grace Avithin the walls
of the house we were leaving, we left it slowly, and almost
sorrowing that we should see its small windows, and deep
seats, and general dinginess no more.
"And this place I remember, if one may say so, long
befoi'e it was built. I have passed Everton Crescent
many a-^ime, long before there was any chapel here ; —
going up to the heights to get a breath of fresh country
air, to see the green fields, and the sheen of the sea, while
LIVERPOOL— BUSINESS LIFE. 15
the ships went out and came in, silently, although in nothing
like the numbers which crowd the river now. ... I heard
Mr. Kelly's first sermon here, from a text taken from one
of the minor prophets, 'From this day will I bless you;'
and then for years I heard scarcely any one else, and had
no desire to wander ; for here I found Sabbath home, and
the deepening of spiritual life, and increase of knowledge —
not only by the ministrations of the pulpit, but sometimes
even more by those of Mr. Kelly's Bible class — and then,
more under Mr. Kelly's influence than from any other out-
ward cause, I went from this church to study for the
Christian ministry, in which I have now spent many busy
and happy years, and in Avhich I continue until this
day."
In later years Dr. Raleigh was led to widen in some
degree the Evangelical theory of conversion. Without
surrendering the belief that all men are sinful and
require to be turned from sin to God, he saw that there
were souls with what he calls " a congenital aptitude for
grace," with whom the turning is gradual and almost un-
conscious. But in his earlier sermons the notion of con-
version, as a definite, conscious change of heart and life,
is very prominent. These sermons were probably drawn
from his own experience. He knew that he himself had
been " born again," and could fix the season of the happy
change from blindness to clear vision. And now the
vague longings and ambitions of his youth were being
absorbed in one desire — the desire to make known to
others the truth of the Gospel. On the 5th of October
1838 he was received into the Church, and about the
same time he undertook to teach a large Bible class in
16 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
place of ]\Ir. Lockhart, who was making ready to go to
China. He was introduced to tlie school by Mr,
Chisholm, afterwards an honoured and successful mis-
sionary in the South Seas.^ Hitherto Alexander Ealeigh
had been known to few even among the men of his own
standing ; he was reserved and silent in company, and
was not generally supposed to possess any extraordinary
gifts. It was only when his duties in the Sunday
school brought him into notice, and compelled him to
use his powers, that his friends discovered what he was.
The following extract is from a journal kept by a sister
of ]\Ir. Lockhart's, and sent to her brother, then in
China : —
29//t December 1839. — "The whole school and the
Bible classes were to be addressed in the vestry — a goodly
company— Alexander Ealeigh gave the third address. I
was astonished. It was plain and simple, admirably
adapted to his audience ; but elegant and poetic, and
delivered with a point and earnestness which made me
actually shed tears. . . . We were all delighted, and felt that
a young man of very great promise was among us. His
shyness and reserve could not conceal the truth that he
had the soul of a poet."
Mr. Kelly and Mr. S. B. Lockhart (father of the
missionary) advised him to study for the Christian
1 The manner of life of that circle in Liverpool is described by one
of themselves : " There was a true simplicity -in our life. Amusements,
now so common among religious people, were not thought of. Our
religion, and the intercourse it gave us, the hold it took upon our intel-
lect, our Sunday classes, and the excitement of foreign missions, made
every day a joy that no amusements could have brought."
LIVEKPOOL— BUSINESS LIFE. 17
ministry. There were many difficulties in the way :
his health was not robust ; his means were small, and
his family could promise but little in the way of assist-
ance. At last the resolve was formed ; in March 1840
he decided to leave business and enter Blackburn
College as a student for the ministry. Before the first
step had been taken towards carrying out this purpose
his father, Thomas Ealeigh, died. The burden of those
members of the family who could work was somewhat
increased ; but the determination that Alexander should
be a minister remained unaltered.
Before his mind was fully made up as to his
vocation for the ministry, one of his brothers wrote
to him :—
" You must ask yourself; — 'Am I fit for this life of single
purpose ? Do I possess that rare quality of character which
aWII guarantee unflinching perseverance in the pursuit of
this, the grand object of my ambition 1 ' In all candour and
in severest truth, I think you do. Strength of purpose is
one of your marked characteristics. My impression is . . .
that you carry out a principle of conduct with a rigour
perhaps if anything too httle conciliatory to the prejudices
and established habitudes of others. Your earnestness of
conviction rests satisfied with nothing short of aggi-ession
upon the opposite error. . . . My first thought after reading
your letter was, there at last is the right thing, and it shall
go hard but we will realise it sooner or later."
Another of his brothers, speaking afterwards of these
years in Liverpool, said — " It was Alexander's noble and
unselfish conduct at home that first convinced me of the
reality of religion."
c
CHAPTEE III.
COLLEGE.
' ' So when mj^ Saviour calls I rise
And calmly do my best ;
Leaving to Him, with silent eyes
Of hope and fear, the rest."
Fabee.
At the beginning of the winter session of 1840-41
Alexander Ealeigh was admitted a student of the
Independent College, or Academy, at Blackburn, at
that time presided over by the Eev. Gilbert Wardlaw.
He was older in years and in thought than most of
his class-fellows ; but he was prepared to find that in
scholarship he had much to make up. His letters
home show that his first impressions of college life
were favourable.
2d November 1840. — "The heart-beating occasionally
returns upon me still, but I hope it is gradually leaving
me. With everything else I am pleased, excepting myself,
of course. ... I go every Sabbath to Darwen, a distance
of four miles, to hear Mr. Porter, the best preacher I ever
heard, not excepting Binney or Osborne either ; and yet he
is a man unknown comparatively."
It is not necessary to give here an exact record of the
I
COLLEGE. 19
course of study pursued by Alexander Ealeigh at Black-
burn and at Manchester, to wliich place, in 1843, the
college was transferred. His fellow -students testify
that his class work was done well and punctually, but
his strength was not more than equal to the prescribed
amount of reading. He suffered much from dyspepsia
and nervous prostration ; and the anxieties natural to
his position were so painfully intensified by ill-health,
that he was more than once on the point of giving up
study and returning to business.
Once in vacation time, meeting a fellow -student,
Mr. R Davies, in the street in Liverpool, he mentioned
his doubts about returning to college. " Ealeigh," was
the blunt but most encouraging reply, " I did not think
you were quite such a fool." Referring to this incident
at the time of Mr. Davies' death in 1879, Dr. Ealeigh
said, "But for Eobert Davies, it is very possible that I
might not have been in the ministry to-day."
To the doubts and fears caused by physical weak-
ness were added cares of another kind. More than
once in his home letters we come upon passages like
these : —
10 //i March 1842. — "My funds are worn very low. I
have had to pay a good deal in books, shoe-soling, medicine,
etc., . . . and I know not where I must look next. How-
ever, I am not in immediate need, and will give you due
notice before I reach the starving-point. A few months
now will, I hope, end my pecuniary difficulties."
Miss Lockhart's Journal gives an interesting glimpse
of the same difficulties from another point of view : —
20 ALEXANDEE RALEIGH.
"Mrs. Ealeigh (his mother) came in the morning to
tell me of Alec's perplexities for want of money. ' Truly,'
as she says, ' when he becomes a great man, and writes his
life, some of these incidents of his earlier days will be suf-
ficiently piquant. They Avill look quite romantic then ;
but now they are rather painful.' "
The Journal goes on to record that one of the
Crescent Chapel friends called the same evening to
inquire where Alexander Ealeigli lived, and " set off
thither with an acceptable present — £5." By such
kindnesses, given and received in the name of the
Master, the struggle was rendered easier; and if Dr.
Ealeigh had fulfilled his mother's expectation by
writing his own life, no false pride would have pre-
vented him from acknowledging his debt to those who
thus helped him througli the difficulties of his early
years.
We have said that want of strength prevented him
from undertaking any course of study much beyond
the usual requirements of his profession. He was not,
and he never professed to be, a learned man. Indeed,
he never had much ambition that way ; but in his
classical studies at college he reached a fair standard
of excellence, and his command of the English language
was already remarkable. Knowledge, of whatever kind,
seemed to him only subsidiary and instrumental ; tliere
was but one thing he felt he could do, and was called
to do — to preach the Gospel ; and in this desire all
others were swallowed up.
The Eev. E. M. Davies, now of Oldham, who was
COLLEGE. 21
then a student at Blackburn College, gives tlie follow-
ing account of his first appearances as a preacher : —
" I have not forgotten his first preaching appointment.
When informed tliat his name was on the list of preachers
he observed, ' Well, I did not expect it. It is the be-
ginning of my public work for the Master. I will seek
His help, and do my best.' His room was next to my
O'wn, sejiarated by a thin partition, and I can testify that
he spent the most part of that night in prayer. He soon
acquired popularity as a preacher ; but tliis led to no
assumption of superiority ; for however much his services
were enjoyed by others, he often declared that they fell so
far short of his own ideal as to keep him humble. His
generous impulses were many, and the goodness of his
heart was often shoAvn in acts of delicate and unexpected
kindness. His student life was as exemplary as his spirit
was devout."
The following extract from a letter to one of his
sisters, who was engaged in teaching, may serve to
illustrate certain opinions which he formed early in
life, and never relinquished : —
11^/i 3Iay 1842. — " I should like to know something of
the inhabitants of H , Avhether they are any more civil-
ised than the average Lancashire population, and whetlier
the children are more apt and teachable than the general
run. Speaking of this, I would have you beware of setting
down any child as a dunce. Eetain it as a firm conviction
that every child has the elements of true greatness and
infinite expansion. Your labours will then become invested
with more of dignity and interest, and in due season will
be productive of all the more abundant fruits. ..."
22 ALEXANDER EALEIGH.
To the same sister he writes to explain why he
cannot accompany her to a concert : —
l3thFehruari/ ISi'i. — ". . . Dr. Vaughan himself \vonl<l
make no objection, but thinks that, taking into account the
state of feeling on the subject of a considerable part, and
that in many respects the best part of our denomination, it
•would neither be A^dse nor dutiful in us to set an example
of latitudinarianism."
In regard to concerts, the writer afterwards came to
entertain opinions of a more " latitudinarian " char-
acter ; but his objection to the theatre, incidentally
expressed in the same letter, he never abandoned.
With all regard for the drama as an agent of culture,
he was convinced that evil of several kinds was almost
inseparably associated with our modern stage. From
the time when he devoted himself to the ministry he
never entered a theatre. He did cherish some hope
that the theatre might in time be so reformed and
purified that religious people could enter it without
scruple. On this point he was perhaps no more
" latitudinarian " than his master, Dr. Vaughan, who
is reported to have said that for years after he was
a converted man he could not pass a theatre door
without a qualm of regret.
Year after year, through the discipline and priva-
tions which have been touched upon, ruled and softened
as these were by other agencies, and by the grace of
God in them all, Alexander Ealeigh's character grew,
and the influence over men which he was to wield in
after life began to be felt. We shall best understand
COLLEGE. 23
this by listening to the words of those who knew him
at this time.
Dr. Mellor of Halifax, his friend for many years,
says of these college days : —
"He was at that time a hard student, especially of
English hterature, both in prose and poetry, and few men
have ever sought more earnestly than he the secret of that
power which lies in the use of appropriate forms of speech,
and few men have been so successful in finding it. . . . It
was my misfortune not to enter upon my college life at
Manchester until the year after Raleigh had left it, and it
was also my good fortune to find there some of his con-
temporaries whose ideal of the ministerial life had been
immeasurably exalted by their fellowship with him. His
name was constantly on their lips. They referred to his
sermons as marvels of power and finish ; and it was clear
that whatever might be the prelections on Homiletics they
might hear from the chair, their model of the true sermon
was unconsciously supplied by Alexander Raleigh."
Again we quote Dr. Mellor : —
" I have never known the man whose name was so
fragrant and inspiring : the college seemed full of the light
he had left behind him, and I believe that many pleasant
traditions linger there still."
His acceptance as a preacher while still at college
had its inconveniences, for requests were often made
for his services when the studies of the week were too
pressing to admit of the thorough preparation of a
sermon ; and to be less than thorough was always a
trial to him. But whatever drawbacks existed in the
shape of uncertain health and other anxieties, the years
24 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
at College were full of interest aud brotlieiiiuess, and
in the retrospect across a lifetime of work aud change,
they always looked beautiful to him.
We will close this chapter with a graphic sketch
of life in Blackburn, by the Eev. Eobert Macbeth of
Hammersmith, London, who was a fellow-student with
Alexander Ealeigh.
" The peculiar conditions of our student life at Black-
burn Academy, during the last two or three years of the
existence of that institution, were well fitted to bring into
prominence the latent qualities of Alexander Kaleigh's
character.
" The approaching transference of the Academy to the
new Lancashire College at INIanchester — involving as it did
the retirement of the old tutors, and, indeed, the complete
reconstruction of the whole establishment — had naturally
led to a considerable relaxation of the formal regulations
ordinarily so necessary to the due conduct of student life
and work. The growing failure of the sight of the resi-
dent tutor — the Eev. Gilbert "Wardlaw — amounting at last
to almost total blindness, tended still further to lessen the
amount of immediate superintendence. The result was a
sort of interregnum, during which each of the students had it
in his power, in a large measure, to do ' whatsoever seemed
good in his own eyes.' ^ In this state of things the leader-
ship — I might almost say the government of the house —
^ A printed aud framed copy of the "Rules of the House" used
to hang over the dining-room mantelpiece. This, after due delibera-
tion at a Parliament of the whole House, was declared obsolete and
inadequate, and fortluvitli sold by auction, James Apperly acting as
auctioneer, and Raleigh, if I remember aright, being highest bidder.
"Raleigh bearing down " was a standing phrase used to designate
COLLEGE. 25
fell, by a process of natural selection, into the hands of two
men, the late Watson Smith of Wilmsloe and Alexander
Raleigh ; and to the manner in Avhich they used the influ-
ence thus accruing to them, some at least of their fellow-
students feel that they owe much of Avhat is richest and
best in their whole experience of life. In natural tempera-
ment and tendency no two men could well be more diver-
gent — Smith, ardent, impulsive, and impetuous even to
rashness, ready to fire up into burning indignation at the
slightest appearance of what he held to be wrong ; Ealeigh,
deep and tender indeed in his emotional nature, but cool,
calm, and reflective even in his slightest and most im-
promptu utterances; ever ready to see the redeeming
points in any character, and refusing to condemn while
there Avas the slightest possibility of justifying. Out of
these divergences differences sometimes arose, which for
the time at least were of serious significance to us all 3
diff'erences so acute that I have seen Watson Smith burst
into a passion of tears through disappointment at not being
able to carry his point. But never for one moment did
these differences alienate those two from each other;
tlie inimitable combination of reality and burlesque in the indignation
witli which he would suddenly bear do\\'n on any unfortunate delinquent
who had incurred his magisterial censure. It was made specially sug-
gestive by a not altogether unsuccessful attempt by Anthony Bateson to
render it pictorially after the manner of Leech or Tenniel. This piece,
which hung for some time in the place formerly occupied by the rules
above referred to, represented Raleigh in the form of a magnificent
three-decker, affluent in canvas and bunting, bearing directly down
on an assemblage of small craft, each one of which seemed to be
making off in any direction open to it, the figurehead of each indi-
cating unmistakably the personality intended. Perhaps such inci-
dents have interest chiefly for those who look at them through the
tender haze of loving memory. — R. M.
26 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
never once mar the enjoyment of the glorious hour after
evening prayers, when, together with two or three others
who formed with them a sort of inner circle, they met
around tlie dining-room fire to compare notes as to the
progress and events of the day.
" Smitli was an omnivorous reader, and had generally
fished uj) during the day — sometimes from a Socratic
dialogue, sometimes from some little -kno\\'n old Puritan —
some racy passage or saying, which he rehearsed and
expounded to us with an infinite A^ariety of the most
graphic and suggestive comments. To Raleigh a kind of
judicial or magisterial function was, by common consent,
tacitly assigned ; and his summing up of the discussion and
of the incidents of the day was often so tinged by mingled
touches of tenderness, severity, and half-suppressed humour,
as to throw a flush of rich poetic colouring over the most
ordinary sayings and doings.
" But it was on the Sunday evening, when they were
not engaged in preaching, or had returned early from an
afternoon serAdce, that our student life at Blackburn cul-
minated to its fullest brightness. Then Smith would read
a chapter from Cudworth or John Howe, which soon
became a point of departure for discussions, such as I fear
might not be so much appreciated now, when the Contem-
pomnj Review and the Nineteenth Century have superseded
the English Platonists and the Puritan Divines, and ' left
none so poor as do them reverence,' — but which are
remembered by those who were present with inexpressible
interest and gratitude. On those occasions Raleigh's words
were few and well chosen. He never had any disposition
for flights of mere speculative talk. His clear sense of the
limits of human thought made him somewhat intolerant of
all attempts to solve the mysteries of life, or to set aside
well-sustained fact or doctrine, simply because it involved
COLLEGE. 27
what appeared for the present to be insoluble mystery.
Sometimes a severe homily, without words, was contained
in the look of hvimorous despair, or in the rich laugh,
with a curious tone of mingled ridicule and sadness
trembling through it, with which he usually received such
attempts.
" It might be supposed that these unrestrained excur-
sions into remoter fields were incompatible with due atten-
tion to our ordinary student Avork. It was not so. With
Ealeigh at least, and the whole of the circle immediately
around him, the very absence of restraint led to a more
rigidly conscientious attention to everything that duty or
courtesy required. I have known him, for example, to
run every foot of the way from Lower Darwen to Black-
burn, rather than be five minutes late for evening prayers
— although Mr. Wardlaw had expressly abolished all impo-
sitions for failures of this sort ; or rather, I should say,
just because these had been abolished. In like manner,
when it was suggested to him that the state of his health
would justify his declining some part of the prescribed
course of study, he rejected the proposal almost with
indignation — saying that he ' could die, he could give up
altogether, but he could not deceive or disappoint his
friends by pretending to go on, and yet shirking the work
given him to do.'
"Yet Ealeigh'was never anything of an Ascetic or a
Precisian. On the contrary, it would be difficult for those
who knew only the graver aspects of his character, to con-
ceive of the zest with which he went into every justifiable
game or device for relieving the strain or varying the
monotony of our life.
" Details would be out of place here, and to those
unacquainted with the character and composition of the
unique little community at Blackburn, they would be
28 . ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
unintelligblc. Never, however, even amidst scenes of the
most hilarious mirth, did he lose altogether that touch of
severe yet tender pathos which was one of the charms of
his character. One felt that on all occasions, grave or
joyous, there was an aroma of the Westland hills and
moors, and of the old Covenanting life there, still linger-
ing about him ; and a story which he was fond of repeat-
ing about Peden being found sitting by Eichard Cameron's
grave, swaying himself backward and forwards, and sighing
out, * Oh to be wi' Eichie ! ' forcibly recurs to me now,
with an irrepressible tendency to substitute * Ealeigh ' for
'Eichie.'"
CHAPTEE IV.
GEEENOCK — FIRST CHARGE.
' ' God gives to every mau
The virtues, tempei', understanding, tastes
That lift him into life ; and lets him fall
Just in the niche he was ordained to fill."
COWPER.
In the autumn of 1844, before going to Manchester to
finish his college course, Alexander Ealeigh spent some
days in the Highlands with one of his brothers. On
their return they arrived at Greenock on a Saturday
night too late to go on to Edinburgh, and were thus led
to take up their abode till Monday with a friend, who
had just started in business as a lawyer in the town.
Their host was a member of the Free Church of Scot-
land, as was also Mr. Samuel Ealeigh. On the Sabbath
morning these two went to the Free Church together,
leaving the Manchester student to find out his own
people. Guided by one of the oldest members of the
local Independent community, he made his way to the
chapel — a new building, somewhat more ambitious in
its style than the average Scottish Independent chapels
of these days. Before the close of the service, when
30 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
the members of the church met around the Lord's table,
intimation was made, according to the custom of the
place, that a student from Lancashire College was among
the company. The intimation was not without peculiar
interest on that Sabbath, for the congregation had been
without a pastor since the beginning of the year, and it
was expected that the deacons would invite the stranger
to preach. One of their number did in fact call upon
him in the course of the evening. Mr. Ealeigh said he
would willingly preach if regularly invited to do so ;
but he would not preach as a candidate, because his
college course was not completed. "A regular invita-
tion" duly followed, and when he returned to Greenock
to fulfil his promise the people were so much impressed
with his sermons that they were ready to wait till the
end of the college session, if they could be sure of
receiving him then as their minister.
The formal call was sent to him to Manchester. All
the members of the church heartily concurred in it, with
the exception of a party of seventeen, who persisted in
their preference for another. After mature deliberation
and earnest jDrayer to God for guidance, he felt that it
was Iris duty to accept the invitation ; and on the 6th
November 1844 he signified his cordial comphance with
the wish of the Greenock church. He then expected to
leave college at the New Year. By way of postscript
to his acceptance, he states four points on which he
desires to come to a clear understanding with the
church : —
" 1. The chapel debt I cannot but regard as a serious
GREENOCK^FIRST CHARGE. " 31
obstacle in the way of the success of my ministry. . . . On
this subject I doubt not you will be of the same mind.
" 2. I should like the salary I am to receive to be
specified before I settle. It has formed no element in my
decision ; but you will, of course, see the necessity of my
knowing its amount.
" 3. I do not know what the custom is in Scotland, but
here it is almost universal for ministers to have six weeks
in summer free from all encumbrance.
" 4. I should like it also to be distinctly understood,
that I am at liberty to read my discourse when desirable or
necessary. It is neither my custom nor my inejerence to do
so, but occasions will happen when it may be absolutely
necessary, and there are subjects on Avhich I should not
dare to trust myself without my entire manuscript."
None of these points presented any insurmountable
difficulty ; but the Greenock congregation were severely
disappointed when Dr. Vaughan interposed to dissuade
him from leaving college before Easter. Mr. Kelly
supported Dr. Vaughan ; and the other members of the
College Committee were anxious to avoid setting any
precedent for abridging the term of study. As for the
pastor-elect, his desires were all with his people ; " the
nearness of the sacred office," he writes, " investing it
with additional interest and awfulness." But his judg-
ment told him that it would be better for them, as well
as for himself, to finish his college course. It was not,
therefore, till Ajml 1845 that his settlement and ordi-
nation took place. At the yoimg pastor's earnest request,
Mr. KeUy consented to accompany him to Greenock, and
to give the ordination charge. From a letter written by
32 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
Mr. Samuel Ealeigh to his mother we extract this note
of the proceedings : —
CfreenocJc, btli Ajnil 1845. — "Dr. Wardlaw preached the
introductory discourse yesterday from 'And the Lord
added to tlie church daily such as should be saved, '
giving a view of the principles of Congregationalism, and
what was better, a fervid exhibition of the Gospel inde-
pendent of ism. Mr. Kelly's charge was admirable. ... I
trust you feel it no ordinary consolation that, amid years of
trial and vexation, God has been preparing one of your
children for a post of honour in His service. ..."
The Eev. David Eussell of Glasgow asked the usual
questions, and in reply to these Mr. Ealeigh read a
short statement, in which he gave some account of the
way by which he had been led to devote himself to the
service of Christ.
The young minister threw himself with characteristic
energy into the duties of his charge. . His work was not
confined within the limits of his own congregation ; for
his evening service was usually attended by a consider-
able number of strangers ; and he was also one of the
preachers at the Seamen's Chapel. Some of the sermons
of that period, which he thought worth keeping— care-
ful manuscripts in the minute hand which he then
-v^'ote — are evidently intended for a seafaring audience.
In a sermon preached at Kensington Chapel in 1879
he refers to the early associations of his Greenock
Sabbaths.
" Of the first church of which I was pastor a good many
sailors were members, — captains and mates and men before
GREENOCK— FIRST CHARGE. 33
the mast. They went round the world, meeting all the perils
of the cities and the seas, and when they came safely back,
on a quiet Sunday perhaps, the hills and mountains of the
Western Highlands bathed in rich summer light, and, as it
were, worshipping around us, and those men sat down at
the Supper of the Lord in the little church, what hearts
were so glad as theirs 1"
He always had a keen sympathy with the peculiar
anxieties of seafaring men, and once during his ministry
in Greenock he had occasion to realise in his own ex-
perience what those anxieties are. His mother and
one of his sisters making the voyage from Liverpool,
in order to make their home with him, were ship-
wrecked, and for a time it was believed in Greenock
that all on board the steamer had been lost. News of
their safety arrived at the end of the week, and on the
Sabbath morning he preached from the words, " Why
are ye so fearful, ye of little faith," a sermon which
is still remembered by those who heard it.
Some measure of the reputation acquired by the
young minister is afforded by the fact that he is in-
cluded in a list of some fifty preachers described in a
book, entittled Om^ Scottish Clergy, published about
this time. The sketch of Mr. Ealeigh is founded on a
sermon preached in Dr. Wardlaw's Chapel, Glasgow,
from the text " Honour all men." After remarking that
the speaker's voice is " somewhat harsh," and his action
not sufficiently animated, the writer expresses a high
opinion of the matter of the sermon, and specifies as
characteristic qualities of the preacher, his originality,
D
34 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
his liigli sense of liuiuan dignity and of the possibilities
of hiunan nature, and his (jnardedncss. This last touch
^vas probably suggested by the qualifying phrases
which he often introduced when he had made a strong
assertion.^phrases .which, if they sometimes seemed to
check the flow of his speech, served also to indicate the
conscientious care witli whicli he kept his " originaUty "
within the bounds of right reason and common sense.
In May 1847 his health again threatened to give. way.
The symptoms which had affected him in his college
life still reappeared from time to time, and these were
aggravated by the misery he underwent sometimes in
his preparation for the pulpit, especially when, to please
his people, he attempted to learn his sermon by heart.
Once he records with joy that he preached without
paper, and " got on like fire," but at other times he was
haunted by the look of the manuscript at home. He
even "feared/ that he might (mentally) turn over two
pages at once and so lose his place," as he repeated the
words. Extempore speaking was always difficult to
him, and it was only later that he acquired the art of
reading with ease and freedom. To the strain of his "
work was added the strain of family responsibilities,
which were sometimes hard to meet. In the summer of
1847 he was obliged to take rest for a time. After his
return home we find him writing to his sister : —
Greenock, 22(1 Sejjtcmhcr 1847. — " ... As regards myself,
I cannot say much. To say that I am well would be far
from the truth. The people seem all very glad to have
me back. This is Sacrament Aveek in Greenock ; Candlish
GREENOCK— FIRST CHARGE. 35
and several other ' wise men from the East ' are to be here
on Sabbath, so I shall take it easy. ..."
So pale and worn was his appearance at this time,
that friends belonging to other churches in Greenock
sometimes said, " Let us go and hear the young Inde-
pendent minister, for we may not have him spared to us
long."
The result of the winter's work was to convince him
that he must resign his charge, and abandon all exertion
and responsibility for a time. His peojole came for-
ward with offers of help of all kinds ; he was surprised
and touched to find how much love" his short ministry
had won him. Friends in England, who thought that
a change to a less laborious pastorate was all he re-
quired, wrote to ask whether he would listen to a call
from a small chapel in IManchester. But if he had been
fit for Avork at all he would have stayed in Greenock.
He was very loath to leave a place endeared to liim by
the beauty of its scenery, and by many pleasant and
sacred associations. But it was not left to him to
choose. God, -by His providence, was calling him apart
into a desert place, and he obeyed, not knowing how
long the trial of faith and patience might be before he
should be permitted to return to active service.
On the 10th of July 1848 he resigned the Greenock
pastorate, and in the course of the following autumn
gave up his home there, and became a wanderer in
search of health.
CHAPTER V.
FAILURE OF HEALTH.
"How dull it is to pause, to make an end ;
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use,
As tlio' to breathe were Life."
Tenxysox.
The trial to Alexander Ealeigh of leaving Greenock
would have been even more severe than it was had lie
known that for two whole years he w^as to be laid
aside. As he went from place to place, and tried
various medical treatments till he was w^eary of them,
one home opened its doors to him and welcomed him
time after" time, during these years of enforced and
imdesired idleness. In Heaton Villa, near Manchester,
the residence of Mr. (afterwards Sir James) AVatts, he
found kind friends and untiring care. Mr. and ]\Irs.
AVatts had knowm him in liis student days, and hearing
of his illness they sought him out " very diligently and
found him," and with rare delicacy tried to persuade
him that in accepting their hospitality he was conferring
as well as receiving a kindness. In after years, when
his hands were full of work and his friends were many,'
as he mused on the Divine care that had followed him
FAILURE OF HEALTH. 37
all his life long, lie used to say that under God he owed
it to Mr. and Mrs. Watts that he did not sink utterly
in this time of trial, and let go his hope of preaching
the Gospel.
Notwithstanding the great reserve of his character
at this time, and his avoidance of conversation in
geuerar company, he gave to friends wlio knew him
absolute and unmeasured trust, and he possessed a
singular power of winning the love and confidence of
those with whom he came in contact, — a power which
is one of God's best gifts to those whom He chooses to
do a work for Him amongst men.
As often as his strength permitted he renewed the
attempt to preach, but at first with small success. He
could hardly enter the pulpit without overpowering
nervous terror. The first time, after his illness, that he
undertook a service in the chapel at Heaton, his friend
Mr. Hooper, the minister of the place, was at hand in
case he should fail. He was actually obliged to stop ;
and in the bitterness of his disappointment exclaimed,
" I can never preach again." His next attempt was
more successful, and he records it as " a trembling
trial." As his physical health improved, the morbid
intensity of his feelings diminished, although to the last
he never entered a pulpit without an overshadowing
fear upon his spirit, — partly nervous, but in large part
also due to his sense of the issues for good or evil,
which might depend on his words.
The following letters belong to the earlier part of
these years : —
38 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
To Miss Watts (then at school), 1st September 1848.
Edinburgh.
" . . . I think I have been taiiglit during my last
illness, more impressively than at any former period, the
value of a Saviour's presence and siijiport in trouble or
when contemplating the possibility even of death. Every
worldly support then becomes like a broken reed, and all
worldly i:)leasurcs are as shadows : Christ and His salvation
become all in all. And I feel a stronger desire to urge all
my friends to make sure of a real attachment to Him
during the season of health. Believe me that I speak, not
professionally, as a minister, but as one who has looked
towards eternity, when I say that it is a fearful hazard to
allow the most vital of all points to stand by unsettled till
sickness, and fear, and death come rushing upon the
soul. ...
"I hope you are deriving every day a fresh delight
from the society of your companions in study, from look-
ing at the harvest -fields, from walking up the hills and
running do^Tn. I hope that when the birds sing you
answer them, in passing by; that you muse thoughtfully
when you see the leaf falling from the tree, remembering
that ' we all do fade as a leaf.' I hope that your trials, if
you have any, are sanctified, and that your weeping does
not endure even for a night, and that joy always ' cometh
in the morning.' "
To the Same, 6th December 1848.
Jleaton Villa.
" . . .It has been a drizzling, miserable day, but the
moon is up and is shining calmly down upon the leafless
trees, and lighting up the whole plain with its radiance.
... It is like the change which passes on the soul when
FAILURE OF HEALTH. 39
it comes out of the deep darkness of carelessness and sin
into the calm light of God's favour. . . ,
" It is the only great life to walk in the light of the
Lord. May we have grace to do so, till we reach the
place Avhere neither sun nor moon are shining, for ' the
Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the Light
thereof.' ..."
Shortly after leaving Greenock, and when he
believed that his illness was to be only temporary, lie
became engaged to Mary, only daughter of Mr. James
Gilford of Edinburgh. Some of the following letters
are to her.
To M. G., 5th December 1848.
\Heaton Villa.
"To satisfy your affectionate curiosity, and my own
grateful feelings, I shall try to give you some idea of the
place where I am now so comfortably located. . . . Man-
chester is situated in the centre of a plain, and Heaton lies
about six miles south of it, on a gentle elevation, and in
favourable weather commands a clear view of — I cannot
say the towers and palaces, — but of the tall chimneys and
church spires and smohe of the city. On still mornings the
roar of the machinery and of the living multitude is heard
in its dying falls. ...
" The prospect, of its kind, is beautiful. On fine days
in summer there is a dreamy richness in the landscape, and
even on a wintry day like this there is not the cold
sterility which sometimes chills the blood in the hilly parts
of Scotland.
" The house itself is large. . . . Thei'e is a large gar-
den, and on entering the greenhouse one forgets that this
is December. There are some six or eight horses, any one
of which I may have when I wish for other than pedes-
40 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
trian exercise. Of course I sliall not trust myself to a
steed that might wish to part company with me on short
notice, and further to allay your fears, be it known to you
that I am a first-rate horseman !
" There is a little chapel ^^'ithin ten minutes' walk of the
house, and the congregation assembling there enjoys the
ministrations of a very reflective young minister, who was
a fellow student with me, and with whom I have a walk
every day. "We talk of scenes gone by, and sometimes
anticipate and forecast the future. ...
" Thus, you see, I ha-se almost every comfort, and yeL
like one Avho is anything but an 'ensample,' I am often
disposed to feel that ' all this availeth me nothing ' so
long as I am deterred from labour and sej^arated from
you. Alas ! my faithless heart, can I not be quiet and at
rest — ' still ' in humble, hopeful trust 1 . . .
" I have to tell you that I have broken the silence of
these long and trying months at last. I preached last
Sabbath evening in the little chapel here, and without
suffering any evil consequences, although not without
unpleasant s}Tnptoms during the time of speaking. ... It
is much, and calls for a far more ardent gratitude than I
feel, to have been permitted to preach the everlasting Gospel
once more. Help me by your prayers, entreating our
gracious Father to permit me to go on in the good work,
if it be His lioly iciU. Tliis is the petition I find most diffi-
cult. . . . How hard it is to say, in full-souled acquies-
cence, ' Thy will be done ! ' But I am talking too much of
myself ; your letters are welcome as the sun. ..."
To Mrs. S. Ealeigh, 3d January 1849.
Heaton.
"... 1848 has gone the way of all his predecessors,
and has been an eyentful year to Europe and to us. I
FAILURE OF HEALTH. 41
have a shocking memory for dates, but there are days and
months iu the year which has just passed away which
neither you nor I will easily forget. And to me 1849 is
likely to be, in one way or other, not less memorable. . . .
It has been one of my besetting sins that I have been
prone to be far too anxious, sometimes to impatience and
feverishness, about the possibilities of the future. How
good would it be for all of us if, while we yet stand on
the threshold of the young year, we were duly impressed
with the importance of claihj duty, — the keeping of the
commandments of God. . . .
" Will you assure J of my sympathy ? I find it
flows spontaneously toAvards those who have been stricken,
and have turned aside for a season, to suffer and wait. ..."
To M. G., 6th January 1849.
Heaton.
"I went yesterday by way of the College to Man-
chester, and read ' your letter while passing along some of
the walks which were so familiar to me in other days not
very long gone by. . . . The mingling of past and present
in my mind was very strange, as I read and walked through
the fields and along the rural lanes. . . . Friends with
whom I walked in college days stood again by my side,
albeit some of them are at the ends of the earth. Conver-
sations, struggles, follies, hopes then indulged — some of
them since defeated, and some more than fulfilled — aspira-
tions and prayers, all came back. Ah ! what sealed trea-
sures memory has in her keeping ; and how easy for the
Author of our nature to touch the spring that shall unfold
and disclose them all ! With Avhat solemnity should we
look forward to that day when ' the judgment shall be set,
and the books opened ; ' the book ice carry within among
the rest ! . . .
42 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
" I saw Dr. Yaughan at college, who gave mc kindly
■welcome. As soon as I am able to think of a settlement
he will be anxious, he says, to aid me in finding the right
place. I am deeply persuaded that God alone knows that,
and my hope is that He will giiide me. I cannot conceal
from you that I am not recovering so rapidly as I expected.
... I have very few anxious thoughts about myself, but I
cannot help having some about you. . . . From the past
let us derive pledges and arguments for trusting Him
entirely in the future. "Whatever be the way He has
destined for us, it will be opened to our advancing foot-
steps."
To the Same, 6th February 1849.
Heaton.
" I have a little natural regret at going away from
here, but the prevailing feeling is gladness that I am so
far recovered as to be able to sliow face in the world again.
I am undoubtedly much better than when I came, the very
circumstance of being able to preach is in itself much. It
is as if I had come to an estate ; it is better to me than
thousands of gold and silver ; better than all earthly
delights. Truly it is a joy ' unspeakable.' "
In the spring of 1649 he was able to undertake
regular duty at Ebenezer Chapel, Steel House Lane,
Birmingham. He remained there some three months,
and if his health had permitted, the desire of the con-
gregation and his own earnest wish for work would
have led him to find a home there. But from the be-
ginning of his stay he felt his health uncertain, and this
hope grew more and more dim. About tliis time he
writes to his sister : " I am sceptical as to the efficacy of
porter and wine. Milk has virtue in it — so has quiet
FAILURE OF HEALTH. 43
exercise in the open air, and abstinence from public
meetings, and early rising, and cheerful society — and
perhaps the best thing of all for the health, both of
body and soul, is a steadfast trust in Providence and a
close walk with God. ... I have consented to stay
here two Sabbaths more. Would God I were fit for
such a sphere ! He may perhaps show me clearer light
ere long — meantime I would rely on His grace, and
contentedly discharge the duties of the day, leaving to-
morrow with all its uncertainties in His hand."
In another letter we find him referring to his diffi-
culties in regard to what he calls " present and perish-
able things." "My present pecuniary condition," he
says, "is not very comfortable." He goes on to say
that for complete restoration, it woidd be necessary for
him to rest in silence all the summer ; but that being
unattainable, " I will work as long as I can. So long
as I can continue to preach, I shall be tolerably happy,
and if I must stop I will try to say, ' The will of the
Lord be done'!"
It was with a very bitter sense of " hope deferred "
that he was compelled to turn aside from the door that
seemed to be opening before him in Birmingham. After
weary months of waiting, spent chiefly among friends in
Scotland and at Heaton, he began, early in 1850, to
preach regularly to a small congregation at Lisceard
near New Brighton. He undertook the duty only on
the condition that he might retire at any time if his
strength failed. But the work seemed to bring health
witli it ; the air of the place was pure and bracing, the
44 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
changing aspects of sea and cloud Mere a constant
delight to him, and in the house of his friends Mr. and
]\Irs. BuUey he was welcomed as a " brother beloved."
"It was always a pleasure," Mrs. Bulley writes, "to
see him come into the house ; and to know that we num-
bered him as one of our most treasured and truest friends
was a privilege we have never ceased to value. I have felt
that it was a sermon only to hear him give out his text ;
what power some of his tones had of entering into the
heart, and fixing, not themselves alone, but the truths
uttered in them ! He will ever live to me as one of the
noblest preachers, and one of the most delicate, tender,
and truly humble souls God ever made to labour for Him
on this earth of ours."
Other witnesses bear similar testimony to the power
of his preaching at that time. His prematurely gray
hair, and the traces of suffering in his face arid bearing,
lent additional force to the intensity of conviction,
which enabled him to triumph over weakness and fear,
and to lose remembrance of his troubles in his desire to
bring home the truth to the minds of his hearers. Thus
it was that by suffering he was being prepared for the
work of his life. Long after, in the busy Canonbury
days, Dr. Ealeigh mentioned to one of his deacons tlie
reluctance he felt when he saw it his duty to point out
to young men, who aspired to the office of the ministry,
the difficulties and trials of the vocation. " They come
here," he said, " and they see the place crowded, they
hear me preach, and it all seems easy and natural ; and
straightway they get the desire to do the same. Ah !
they little know wliat it has cost me to attain to this !"
CHAPTEE VI.
ROTIIEllHAM.
Knowledge and Truth and Virtue were his theme,
And lofty hopes of Divine Liberty,
Thoughts the most dear to him."
To M. G., nth January 1S50.
Ileaton Villa.
" As I leave early to-morrow morning for Rotlierham,
four miles from Sheffield, where I am to preach on Sab-
bath, I must write you a line or two to-day. ... I re-
member that I omitted to ask you the last two times I
wrote when your birthday is. . . . Never was any one less
inclined to the observance of days and months and years
than I am. I have much ado to remember even the great
dates of history, and have always to bethink me before
condescending on a particular year as the time of any
event. I can remember the succession of events without
much difficulty, or, in the world of mind, the succession of
thoughts and feelings. And I freely confess that the kind
of gi-eatness which seems to me most worth striving after
is not the greatness of historical accuracy and research, nor
that of classical elegance, nor of logical precision, nor of
general accomplishment, nor of oratorical power ; but the
46 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
greatness of being a serious, reflective, spiritual thinker.
To think correctly of God and His government, of Clirist
and His work, of this world and the next, of the moral
duties and ends of life, and to have pure and strong emo-
tions corresponding with the thoughts — both thought and
emotion finding form and development in an active conse-
crated Christian life — Uiis Avould be true greatness, this
would make us co-workers Avith God. . . ."
The visit to Eotherham, mentioned in this letter,
led to invitations to preach there again, and finally to
a call. -
To the Same, 7th May 1850.
Heaton Villa.
" I have got the call to Eotherham, signed by .the late
minister, who is still professor in the college (and the
writer of the article on Emerson, which stands first in
Dr. Yaughan's Briiuh Quarterly of this month), by all the
deacons, and by 230 members of the Church, and upwards
of 100 members of the congregation. Only three refused,
or declined rather, to sign — an old man and his wife —
who said they ' would sign ' if the deacon who waited on
them ' wished it ; ' but they hardly seemed ' to know me
enough to take such a step: The deacon very properly
said, 'No, my good friends, you must not sign at all,
unless you Avish it yourselves.'- I am greatly pleased by
such a display of Scotch caution. I daresay they are a
very Avorthy Yorkshire couple, and if circumstances so
turn out, I shall have pleasure in making their acquaint-
ance. Perhaps they may sometime think they knoAV me
perfectl}^, Avhen in reality they know me not a Avhit more
than they do at present. ... I shall take some Aveeks to
consider. Every indication is faA^ourable but my OAvn
health; that sometimes is distressingly uncertain. . . ."
ROTHERHAM. 47
To the Same, 29tli May 1850.
Heaton Villa,
" You will think me like Noah's dove — unable to find
rest. I am ?^nlike that distinguished bird in this, that
I have no ark to which I can go as my own home. I
do not say this comi)lainingly. I meet with only kind-
ness and comfort everywhere, and I want for no good
thing. But there are some things which seem good and
desirable, Avhich of course I should like to- have, but
which in the sovereig-nty and wisdom of God are denied
me, — such as better health, a settled work to do, and a
real home to live in. . . . These things being denied,
cannot be the best things at present, or else I should have
them. . . ."
To the Same, 17th June 1850.
Eotherh'am.
" I came here on Saturday. On Thursday I went to
the annual meeting of the Lancashire College, where I
met a number of my old college companions, now in the
ministry, and had a wonderful revival of youthful recollec-
tions. We sang together one of our old favourite hymns
to a favourite tune, and the light and the peace "and the
stirring hopes of other days came back upon us with won-
derful freshness. Years seemed to be cancelled, and it
looked like yesterday that we were associated in prepara-
tion for the Christian ministry. Some of them are mar-
ried, and others about to be, and I was disposed to think
they were all happier as to outward circumstances than I
am ; but on inquiry I found that each one had his peculiar
troubles, and that on a fair adjustment there would prob-
ably be not so much difference. ' He that gathered much
had nothing over, and he that gathered little had no
. lack.' . . .
48 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
" Life, ■with all its sore trials, ought to be one long and
vast benefit, and it is, to every child of God, ... I am to
meet the deacons to-night, and something will transpire, of
which I shall apprise you in a day or two. Truly I need
to pray with the Psalmist, ' Lead me in a plain path,' for
my path seems very crooked, and sometimes so hidden,
that I know not whether there he any path."
It was ultimately arranged that he should enter on
pastoral work in Itotlierham before the end of August.
But when the time drew near he began to feel that he
had undertaken more than he could fulfil. He was
suffering from illness aggravated by nervous anxiety ;
and when he had prepared -two discourses suitable for
the first Sunday of his ministry, he had " lost his voice,
his strength, his spirits," and felt worse than he had
done for months. He considered it his duty to retire
from the ministry, and to seek some " unexciting secular
occupation." " I seem," he says, " shut up to this con-
clusion. Necessity is laid upon me, alas ! not the apos-
tolic necessity, to preach the Gospel, but the very reverse."
He was then staying at Heaton, and had actually gone
to post the letter containing his decision when he was
recalled by a, messenger sent after him. Two deacons
from the church at Eotherham had come to confer with
him on the matter. After a long interview, in wliich
assistance and consideration of every kind w^ere pro-
mised, he at last consented to meet the wishes of the
people, and to begin his ministry in Eotherham on
Auo-ust 24th, 1850.
EOTHERHAM. 49
To M. G., 25th August 1850.
Eotherham.
" The first Sabbath of my new career has gone plea-
santly by. I preached with more calmness and comfort
\than I exi)ected. The people seemed to feel the solemnity
Jof the occasion, and listened with an attention more than
(common. I had to struggle against feeling, and nerve
myself for as formal a discharge of the duties as was con-
sistent with sincerity. The congregations were large at
both services. So ' magnify the Lord with me ; let us exalt
liis name together.' It is best I should be kept waiting on
the Lord. A good man once exclaimed, ' How haj^py I
have been since I have lost my will ! ' I hope I may soon
lose mine, and have no desire in life or death but to accom-
plish the will of God.
"The morning here is beautiful with cloud and sunshine,
and I cannot fancy it anything else at the head of Loch
Long ; so I will be with you on the sunny hills. ..."
The chapel in w^hicli he thus began to mini?*^^er is
situated in Masborough, a suburb of Eotherham, from
which it is separated by the Eiver Don. Large iron
works were erected in Masborough in the last century
by Samuel and Aaron Walker. When Wesley and
Whitfield visited Eotherham in 1743, the Walkers, with
many others, were attracted by their preaching, and
joined themselves to the Wesleyan congregation which
was afterwards formed in this place. Their attachment
was, however, to Whitfield rather than to Wesley, and
they ultimately left the Wesleyan connection and built
Masborough Chapel for their minister, Mr. John Thorpe.
John Thorpe had been in his youth one of the most
E
50 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
violent of those who opposed and insulted Wesley and
Wliitfield when they came to preach in Eotherham. He
and some other ungodly young men were amusing them-
selves one day in a public-liouse, when one of the com-
pany proposed that they should preach in turn, imitating
the style of the new evangelists, the texts to be chosen,
by opening a Bible at random. When Thorpe's turn
came, he seized the Bible, saying, " I sliall l)eat you all."
He opened at the words, " Except ye repent, ye shall all
likewise perish" (Luke xiii. 3). The text went to his
heart ; the whole current of his thoughts was changed ;
a strange power of utterance was given him, and he
preached as one who felt the truth of what he spoke.
He said afterwards, " If ever I preached in my life by
the assistance of the Spirit of God, it was at that time."
John Thorpe became a Christian man, and in time a
minister of the Gospel. He continued to preach in
Masborough Chapel till his death in 1776. His suc-
cessor, Mr. Grove, was one of six Oxford men expelled
from St. Edmund Hall for holding meetings for read-
ing the Scripture and prayer outside of consecrated
buildings.^
In 1795 tlie Yorksliire Academy for young men pre-
paring for the ministry was removed from Heckmond-
wyke to Eotherham, and from that time down to 1850
the principal of the academy (or college, as it came to
be called) was also minister of Masborough Chapel. The
double office was filled for many years by men of un-
usual gifts. The names of Dr. Edward Williams, Dr.
^ See Historic Notices of Eotherham, by John Guest, Esq., F.S.A.
ROTHERHAM. 51
James Bennett, Mv. Clement Perrot, and Dr. Stowell,
stand in a good succession tliere. Its connection with
the college, and with the industrial leaders and skilled
mechanics of the town, gave to the chajDcl a kind of
metropolitan standing among the churches of that dis-
trict of Yorkshire. The near neighbourhood of the
college was an advantage in many ways ; it brought a
new social element within reach, and Mr. Ealeigh could
avail himself when necessary of the assistance of Dr.
Stowell (who continued to be principal of the college),
or of one of the students.
On coming to Eotherham he became the guest of
friends connected with the congregation. At Carr House,
the home of Mr. Yates, and at Don Side, under Mr,
Taylor's roof, he continued for a year. Their kindness,
which became warm friendship, never permitted him to
leave them until he had a house of" his own. Of this
hospitality he writes — " Humanly speaking, it has been
my salvation during these last months : the one thing
without which I could not have continued until this
day;" and he has said that, but for the strength that
such sympathy and care brought, he would have " fled
some Sunday morning in sheer terror."
Not the least of the pleasures attending the return
to regular work was his restored freedom from pecuniary
embarrassment : —
"The glorious privilege of being independent. "
To be in debt was a thing he could not and would
not bear, and he brought no discredit on the Gospel by
52 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
carelessness in matters relating to money. When he
took up his abode in Rotlierham, he would not even
order a new suit of clothes on credit, although he would
have found it easy to do so. His friends noticed with
silent ainusement that when his first quarter's salary
came into his hands, the well-worn suit at once and
for ever disappeared, none could say whither, and gave
place to a new outfit becoming his pastoral dignity. It
was a favourite saying of his, " I can do without a tiling,
or I can pay for it;" and this strong feeling may have
kept him sometimes from embarrassment, for he was
not indifferent to appearances, and he had an almost
child-like love for tilings beautiful and new. Indeed,
he was apt to be lavish in spending, and he always
gave "with both hands." In London he has been
known to come home on foot across the city, because
he had given away all the contents of his purse to some
case of need. The cabmen of his neighbourhood were
eager to serve him, and even to exchange friendly salu-
tations with him, less perhaps because they knew that
he never took literal advantage of their low tariff, than
because he accorded to them a portion of the kindly
human interest which he never withheld from any one.
To Mrs. Taylor, 11th March 1851.
Livoyool.
"It is impossible for me to tell you with how much
grateful satisfaction I have just read your aftectiouate
letter. The intelligence it contains regarding the people —
their kind inquiries, sympathies, and good wishes — is very
pleasant. I sometimes think myself very strong and in-
ROTHERHAM. 53
different to human opinions, yet, when I am assured tliat
people I respect and love think well and kindly of me, my
heart instinctively opens with a tenderness I did not suspect
myself to possess, and lo ! I am weak as other men. . . .
I feel almost disposed to reprove you for drawing such a
beautiful picture of the future. It possesses too much sun-
light and too little shade. Perhaps you think I have pen-
siveness and melancholy enough in my usual mental state,
to cast the necessary shadowing upon the picture ; and I
do know how to modify and mitigate the over-ln-ight
visions of futurity. . . . Certainly the last part of my life
has been the best, and as I have walked out by the hedge-
rows and through the woods, I have often uttered the
Psalmist's beautiful expressions in the still air, to the God
who is everywhere, ' My cup runneth over.'
" I thank you much for the link in your letter which
connects all present and all anticipated earthly enjoyments
with the nobler experience of a higher world. My hope
of that world seems to be my religion. If I were to lose
it, this whole life would be overcast in a moment with a
gloom which nothing could disperse. Yet a little while,
and we shall be sorrowless and sinless, like the angels, like
God, and we shall look back on the struggles and sorrows
of earth, astonished that things so slight and transient
could have so much discomposed us. . . . ."
ToM. G., 17th May 1851.
Eotherham.
'• . . . Yesterday passed very pleasantly with the people,
and not so heavily with myself as I anticipated. The
pleasure of preaching is worth any amount of sacrifice —
previous fears are so delightfully swallowed up, and conse-
quent languor is so much more endurable, than if it suc-
ceeded self-gratification merely, or even worldly business.
54 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
When my heart is filled Avith sonic Gospel theme, when all
the pity of my nature is tremhling over souls that are
' lost,' or when the hope that they are about to be regained
and ' won ' exalts such anxieties into gladness, I can under-
stand better than at any other time how angels in heaven re-
joice over ' sinners that repent,' how the Saviour is ' satisfied,'
and how God rejoices over His returning children ' with
singing.' And such delight, I sometimes think, vnist have
its abatement, must take its shadow with it, could not be
so high and enrapturing, without corresponding capacities
and susceptibilities of sorrow. ' Sorrowful, yet always re-
joicing, poor, yet making many rich,' you know the glorious
apostolic antithesis 1 It is all very true. And therefore,
I will glory in mine infirmities, and preach on — although
it should be 'in weakness and in fear, and in much trem-
bling ' (which usually, however, it has not been of late) —
and hope against lioi)e, and write pleasant, if they must be
brief, notes to ' Edina, Scotia's darling seat,' and wait — like
a Christian and a man — for the developments of a gracious
and all-wise Providence."
Mi\ Ealeigli's tendency in early manhood, as his
letters show, was to look on the darker side of life.
The uncertainty of human things, the sorrows of men
and women, the mystery of suffering, and the unanswered
questions that lie silent and dark behind all the lighter
moods of thoughtful minds, tliese and his long uncer-
tain health, shadowed his early years. He read at that
time with intense admiration the writings and the life
of John Foster, and used himself to regret that the in-
spiration he drew from these was so deeply tinged with
fdoom. The man who when he saw the first buttercup
of the season could find nothing to say about it but that
ROTHERHAM. 55
he had seen " a fearful siglit," because it told of another
year gone in fleeting human lives, saw only the darker
liemisphere of truth, and was a^^t to encourage in his
disciple the same habit of thought. As years went by,
this tendency was overcome to a remarkable extent.
He says in a letter of comparatively recent date what
those who knew him will acknowledge to be true.
"... What little help I have been able to give to
others, my fellow- pilgrims, by preaching or otherwise, has,
I am sure, been given largely, under God, by means of an
old inveterate habit I have of looking on the sunny side of
things. I am to-day more convinced than ever, that it is
the true side, although for a season, if need be, we ' are in
heaviness.' "
The following recollections are from the pen of the
Eev. Eobert Balgarnie of Scarborough, whose lifelong
friendship with him began about this time : —
" He had recently settled at Masborough, while I had
jvist entered on my pastorate at the Bar Church, Scar-
borough. At that time his health was in a precarious
state. Constitutionally nervous and retiring, the strain of
his work had so affected him that solitude was more con-
genial to him than company ; he Avas unable to sleep at
night, and his long vigils gave him a haggard appearance,
making him look older than he reahy was. His pulpit
preparations seemed to occupy his mind all the week, and
as the Sabbath approached, the shadows deepened around
him till his work was done. He had so high an ideal of
what a sermon ought to be, that every height he gained
was but the starting-point for another effoi't. Once he
consented to preach for me at a week-night service, but
56 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
the prospect of it so overcame him that in the course of
the day he begged to be released from the engagement — it
was more, he said, than he could fulfil. And yet when the
time of service came, he entered my vestry and said, ' I
see you have a sermon in your face.' 'All right,' I
answered. At this his face brightened, and he said, ' Come,
I'll preach for you,' which he did. He had then the same
simplicity of style, the pathos in delivery, the beauty of
illustration, and that true evangelical tone which charac-
terised his ministry to its close. Once I heard him make
a wonderful impression on a large audience. He was
referring to an incident in the life of Sir Walter Scott.
'"WTien Scott,' he said, 'returned from Italy, in sickness
and mental affliction, and was approaching his home in
Selkirkshire, the old familiar landmarks seemed to recall
him to his wonted animation. "That is Gala water, —
yonder are the Eildon hills ! " was his joyous exclamation.
"When at last Abbotsford appeared in sight, he became so
excited that he desired to be raised up in the carriage
that he might look on his beautiful home. Yes,' said
the preacher, ' and poor Scott was going home to die !
Christians, what rapturous feelings should possess you, in
going home to live ! '
"Yet at this very time his ministry seemed to himself
a failure ; in fact he seriously thought of returning to a
secular calling. Everything looked dark to him. As for
his engagement to be married, he saw no probability of
that ever being fulfilled. It must also be given up. How
little he knew that God was training him for higher ser-
vice in His Church, and that the union about which he
had anxious thoughts was to be a well-spring of joy and
strength in his future ministry."
His friend Dr. Falding, Principal of Eotherham
College, writes of this loeriod : —
ROTHERHAM. 57
"He was not then, indeed he never was, inclined to
talk much. Sometimes when we walked together, long
stretches of country would be gone over in silence. In
mixed company he Avas not much given to discussion. If
a topic of conversation was started, he would eagerly join
in it for a few minutes, but was not in the habit of sus-
taining it long. For the most part his sermons seemed to
be drawn from the resources of his own mind. He seldom
directly quoted, scarcely ever at this time directly com-
bated, any author. His own observation, reflection, ex-
perience, supplied him with materials, and as they came
directly from one human mind, from the fulness of one
human heart, they interested and touched the minds and
hearts of his hearers. Even in these early years of his
ministry, he seemed to have a Avonderful knowledge of the
emotional nature of man. At that time he seldom attempted
to stir the deeper passions, but on the gentler feelings he
WTOught, as one that plays skilfully on an instrument.
" He was not always equally prepared for the pulpit,
and no one seemed to be so well aware of the fact as he
was himself. Indeed, there Avas an obvious diff'erence in
his voice and manner, on occasions when he was, and when
he was not, satisfied with his preparation. Some of his
more discerning and imaginative hearers thought they
could tell, even before he announced his text, certainly
Avhilst he was announcing it, whether or not he felt satis-
fied with the sermon he was about to preach ; but even his
poorest sermons, if any might be so called, were thoughtful,
real, and suggestive."
CHAPTER VII.
ROTHERHAM — MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE.
" I looked for evil, stern of face, and pale,
Came good, — too fair to tell ;
I leant on God when other joys did fail, —
He gave me these as well."
"Williams.
In AuQ-ust 1851 Mr. Ealeicli was married at Edinburgh
to Mary Gifford, and after a few weeks' holiday he
entered his new home — a small house in Chapel Walk,
Eotherham. He writes that he and his wife, on the
evening of their arrival, "wandered up and down in
it, with as much of the proprietary sense as if we
were looking over broad acres, and calling them our
own;" and again, " Home makes amends for every-
thing now."
Marriage naturally brought with it an increase of
social engagements. Eotherham was then a town of
early hours and ample leisure. When the minister
and his wife dined out at the primitive hour of one,
they were expected to spend the rest of the day with
the family of their host. Mr. Ealeigh, however, gener-
ally kept the afternoon for a round of visits, or for the
MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 59
long daily ^yalk whicli he never liked to omit. He
thought then, as he said long afterwards, in speaking of
the active life of the prophet of old, that " there can
be no health of any kind, physical or moral, without
movement. If there were ten commandments for the
physical life, I am sure that walking would be one of
them." ^
Dr. Falding, who was often his companion, remem-
bers how soon he became familiar with every turn and
aspect of the beautiful country around Eotherham.
He used to say that he could not preach without
communion with nature, and this meant for him com-
munion with God. Those who knew him best knew
that he lived in an inner world of prayer. He seldom
spoke of such experiences, but he has said, " I cannot
always pray when I would, but some days I seem to
pray all day long." He used to think out his sermons
during solitary walks, and his freshest thoughts came
to Mm under the open sky.
He sometimes sought in manual work a relief from
study, and while at Eotherham volunteered to chop all
the wood for the household. It was a more useful
exercise, he thought, than that of the good minister
who had a load of sand deposited, and employed him-
self daily in removing it by spadefuls from one end of
the cellar to the other. Once, at Christmas time, he
cut and carried home on his shoulder, a distance of
miles, a heavy branching load of holly and laurel with
which to adorn the house. All labour, " the grittiest,"
1 IFai/ to the City, page 110.
60 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
to use his own expression, was good in liis eyes ; and
he spoke half enviously of the compensations that come
with physical toil, — sound sleep and wholesome hunger.
Sleeplessness after mental work was his continual ex-
perience. A friend telling him that Dr. Candlish, after
one of his great speeches at the time of the Disruption,
retired to a bench behind the platfonu, and there w^as
found fast asleep, his remark was, " If I could sleep like
that, I could do anything."
He now became equal to undertake occasionally
some public work. He preached frequently in the
neighbouring towns and villages, and once or twice he
visited London, and learned to love the great city in
which so many years of his life were to be spent. He
had not then acquired the art of a platform speaker,
and once at Bradford, wdien he attempted to address
the Yorkshire Congregational Union, he confessed that
his ideas fled from him, and that the effort was a com-
parative failure.
The connection of Masborough Chapel with the col-
lege brought him work of another kind. He delivered
more than one course of lectures on homiletics and
pastoral theology, and he was even persuaded, pending
the appointment of a mathematical tutor, to undertake
the duties of that chair, — duties for which he had no
special aptitude, but which he humorously claimed to
have performed to " his own and everybody's satisfac-
tion for a short time."
On returning from a visit to London he writes : —
MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. Gl
To Mrs. Maclean, 24tli May 1852.
Eotherham.
"... It is extremely pleasant to meet with old
friends, and to find the old feeling of friendship continu-
ing. These occasional meetings and communions are like
a foretaste of the eternal fellowship. ... I have many
encouragements here, but one of my trials is that a number
of the young people, and even in the families of members
of the church, seem strongly to incline to the world. May
all your children be given you as a comfort and help on
earth, and a joy in heaven ! "
T\vo daughters were born in Eotherham. On the
birth of the elder, her parents became aware of a primi-
tive custom which still survives in that part of York-
shire. When a child is carried for the first time into a
friend's house, a morsel of bread, some salt, and an egg-
are given, and a small coin is put into its hand, in
token of the kindly wish that the little one may never
be in want.
To James Watts, then seven years old, one of his
child-friends, he writes : —
Eotlierhain, 5th July 1853.
" I was very much delighted to receive your letter,
and I am ashamed that I have been so long in replying to
it. The first letter you have ever written to me ! I
ought to have answered it sooner. It seemed so strange
when I opened it to see your name written with your own
hand. I thought of the little boy to whom I used to
write at Heaton Villa, and who coidd not then form a
letter. I hope you will come to Avrite well not only in
letter but in spirit ; not only in manner, but in matter. . . .
" I am living by myself at present, and I find it very
€2 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
lonely. Mrs. lialeigh and Ixihy arc in Edinburgh, and I
am going in about a fortnight. . . . She is such a nice
little thing ! She is shining now in the far north ; a little
star by the side of the bright one that used to shine long
ago, when I went all the Avay from Ileaton Villa to sec the
light thereof. ..."
The years of his ministry in liotherham floM-ed
smoothly. They were marked by few incidents of
importance, and, like the best parts of life, they have
no history ; but a true work was done in them, the
memory of which is still fresh.
The Rev. S. M'AU of Finchley, who was at this time
a student in the college, gives the following recollec-
tions of My. Ealeigh's influence and work : —
" I look back to those days at Masboro' with the
deepest and most tender interest. . . . There was during
his early manhood a thrilling power, a force and incisive-
ness in his preaching of the Gospel, as an appeal to men's
hearts and consciences, that none who felt it could ever
forget. The word of God in his lips was 'quick and
powerful.' He made men feel that this Gospel Avas a living
reality, coming right home to the heart, and making
i-elentless war upon the sinful passions of the soul ; yet
clothed with tenderness and gentleness, and inspired with
a divine sympathy for human sorrow. One sermon of his
I can never forget. It was, I think, on the text, ' Go ye
into all the world, and jireach the gospel to every crea-
ture.' Sitting in the choir pew that night, I could not
take my eyes from him. If one might say so, the whole
man seemed radiant with the light of the truth he had to
tell. To say that he was heard with breathless silence is
to say little ; tlie very power of God was in that service.
MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 63
It lias often been so since, — in Glasgow, in Hare Court,
and in Kensington. Yes, but somehow there was a fresh-
ness and a force and a directness of appeal about these
earlier days, that I have sometimes ventured to think was
sacrificed in the more finished productions of later years.
. . . Myself only a young man, and a comparative stranger
— although no one was a stranger that Mr. Raleigh wel-
comed to his table, or even recognised in his fellowship —
I knew little of his home-life ; but whenever I did enter
his house I was made to feel that the charm of the pulpit
was the charm of the fireside too. Some men are so dif-
ferent (alas !) in the pulpit, and at home, that you could
scarce know them to be the same. Not so Alexander
Ealeigh."
To Mr. and Mrs. S. Raleigh (on the death of a child),
nth February 1854.
JRothei-ham.
" My dear Brother and Sister — We were very ill-
prepared for the sad intelligence of this morning ; our
hopes followed our wishes and prayers, which were all for
recoveiy. Last night we prayed earnestly for her, and it
now appears that she was far beyond the need of it.
" She is taken to the heavenl}^ fold, and the Shepherd
Himself has taken her. ' He shall gather the lambs Avith
His arm, and carry them in His bosom.'
' We know, for God- hath told lis this,
That she is now at rest ;
"Where other blessed chihlren are
On the Saviour's loving breast.'
" I heard lately a simple but significant story. A
gardener had a rare and beautiful flower in his charge.
He had bestowed great care on it, and it was approaching
perfection. One day it was missing: some hand had cut it
from its stem. He was troubled and anxious, but was
64 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
calmed, and satisfied at once, when the Master came round
and said '/ took it.'
" Dear Katy, I remember her well, and many of her
little ways. Her mortal journey has been a very short
one ; scarce had she begun to realise her life as a pilgrim-
age, when lo ! it is ended, and the little traveller is at
rest, and at home — to ' go no more out.' She is there to
welcome you. She is among ' the things above,' and it
will, I hope, be more natural and pleasant for you now to
' set your affection ' on these things.
" I pray that the comfort of His presence may assuage
the bitterness of this your first grief, and discover to you
' the treasures of darkness, and the hidden riches of
secret places ; ' but it is far from well to think of such an
event only as a loss requiring resignation on our part. A
stronger faith would show us that we lose nothing in such
a case, and that there is no real separation even. Your
little darling is not lost. She is removed from the only
place where she could be lost, to the place where she is as
safe as the throne of God — where there is ' quietness and
assurance for ever.' May she be a part of your ' treasure
laid up in Heaven,' and where your treasure is there may
' your hearts be also.'
"I am afraid I cannot comfort you as I could wish;
the heart will have its way. If the little sleeping one
Avere less near and dear to me I could more calmly and
thoughtfully suggest topics of consolation. But I always
feel that many words are not suitable for deep sorrow. . . .
you will have much of our thought and prayer every day.
. . . ' Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth.' Mercy is not
the only proof of love, although by far the most prevailing
one ; and you have no reason to doubt that ' goodness and
mercy' shall follow you still, and even to the end. Amen,
so let it be !"
MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. G5
A minister avIio lives among a people keenly in-
terested in politics is naturally led to think and speak
of the events of the time. He followed the course of
the Crimean war with eager attention, and with a clearer
conviction of the justice and necessity of it than he was
able to retain in after years. He tooli part readily in
any movement for the promotion of religious equality ;
and during a severe church-rate contest in the town,
carried on with more bitterness than he could approve,
he went, rather to the surprise of some, and recorded
his vote against the rate. Liberal opinions were then
being formed in his mind, and these strengthened as
years passed. He believed in the possible nobleness of
all men ; he saw even the most uninteresting persons,
not as they were, but as they might be, and could detect
some trace of the divine even in the low^est types of
humanity. These ideas lay at the foundation of his
political opinions, and were a part of his religion. He
anticipated the time W'hen there shall be no unenlight-
ened masses of men, no class-legislation, no ecclesiastical
domination ; when all men shall " stand fast in the
liberty wherewith Christ hath made them free." Yet,,
in spite of his democratic sympathies, he had always a
certain affection for the more ancient and dignified of
'our institutions ; in so much that, once at least, he has
written himself down a Tory, as wdll appear from the
following letter : —
66 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
To M. G., 12th February, 1850.
ButJicrham.
". , . I know not lio\v it is, l)ut I am quite mournful
about Lord Jeffrey.^ Do you think it can be made out
that all souls are equally precious — I mean even intrin-
sically so ? . . . Are the men we call great but specimens
of what all men might become by culture and favouring
influences ? The same amount of culture, and the same
kind of influence, Avould not make all men great, perhaps;
but it does not therefore follow that no kind of influence
would develop the clodhopper. There lies the 'fine gold'
beneath all the dimness and the rust of the humblest and
rudest life ; and all the powers, joassions, possibilities of a
soul may be found in each. It is therefore a great thing to
toil for human redemption. ' He that winneth souls is
wise.' Let us trj^ to see this subject in its true light. Jesus
did not make any special effort for the salvation of the
' wise.' He did preach the Gospel to the poor. But one
ought to write with deliberation on a suliject of this kind,
and I am in haste this morning. . . .
" 1 3/A. — AVe drove yesterday to AVentworth House, the
seat of Earl Fitzwilliam. It is a truly noble mansion, em-
bosomed in a rich landscape, and finely wooded all around.
. . . The Earl keeps open house ; there is bread and beer
to all comers, even l^eggars not being excluded. When I
see such a place — where the niemories of centuries are
gathered, where all natural beauty is heightened by long
cultivation, where the graces of architecture, sculpture,
painting, may be seen, and where a good old English hospi-
tality is exercised, especially to the poor and needy — I
forthwith become a Tory, and hate the Kadicalism that
^ Lord JeflTrey died at Edinburgh, January 26, 1850.
MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 67
would enter, with rude and destroying footstep, upon so
much beauty and goodness and ancestral glory !
" But then, when I come away and think of it all alone,
I cannot help exclaiming, in a more deliberate mood, ' All
is vanity and vexation of spirit.' "
Besides the public interests which have been men-
tioned, there was much in Eotherham which made the
place dear to Mr. Ealeigh. His work prospered ; in it
he had the co-operation of men of earnest faith; pleasant
friendships, some of them to be for life, had been formed,
and there was, in some of the older members of the
community, a quaint old-world simplicity and godly
sincerity which refreshed his heart. Surroundings such
as these, and the great blessing of leisure, rarer in true
Kves, perhaps, than ever before, made Eotherham a place
of preparation for the twenty-five years of busy service
which were to come. But neither Mr. Ealeigh nor his
people ever regarded his ministry in Masborough as a
permanent settlement, and several attempts were made
in 1853-54 to attract him to other fields of labour. He
did not desire a change ; but when in April 1855 an
invitation came to him from Glasgow, he thought it was
liis duty to accept it.
It is a sorrowful process in any circumstances to
uproot the tender associations that gather round a true
home ; but when the tie that binds a pastor to his people
is broken, there are in the severance elements of peculiar
sadness. If his work has been real, he has entered into
some regions of life that are not trodden in everyday
friendships, and when he goes away the blank is wide.
G8 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
lu Independent cliurcbes, ^vliich are free, not only from
State control, but I'runi confederated rule of any kind,
the pastor must -svitli his own hand sever the bond that
unites him to his people. He can take shelter under no
decree of Presbytery, no Episcopal order or resolution of
Conference ; and many a man experiences, as he did, the
pain of looking in the faces of the people that love him,
and meeting the half reproach that mingles with their
affection, when they know that he has chosen to be their
teacher and guide no longer. .
The sorrow was great of having, as he expressed it,
" the tent taken down," and of seeing endeared places
and still more dear friends wear the farewell look. The
dismantling of the homely rooms, and the iinlovely litter
that accompanies a " flitting," were in this case the out-
ward tokens of feelings that were desolate enough.
Distance, we are told, does not end friendship ; but it
does end the many joys of constant intercourse, the
pleasant goings out and comings in that make so much
of the bliss of life ; and the compensation for all this
loss, " the far-off interest" of such tears, is not to be
found here.
He never forgot the sorrowful faces of the group
that stood on the platform of the railway station on the
showery April morning when he and his family left
]\Iasborough ; and he always said that the lad sight he
had was the round child-face of a girl who had been
nursemaid to the children, and who, w^hen the last
moment came, gave up all attempt at self-control, and
" lifted up her voice and wept."
i
. MAERIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 69
Subsequent j^ears proved, if proof were needed, that
bis decision to go to Glasgow was a right one. Piother-
ham was to bim like Laleliam to Dr. Arnold — " too much
and too early a rest." He had harder work and wider,
although not truer, influence waiting for him elsewhere.
The morning and its dewy radiance must give place,
in human lives as in nature, to the hotter and busier
noon.
*\
CHAPTEIi VIII.
GLASGOW.
" Free men freely work,
Whoever fears God fears to sit at ease."
E. B. Browning.
Mk. Ealeigh preached his first sermon in Glasgow on
Sabbath afternoon, July 1, 1855, Dr. Faldhig having
introduced the new pastor in the morning. The chapel
in West George Street was a large building, not very-
cheerful in aspect, and the services on the Sabbath were
held, as is usual in Scotland, morning and afternoon.
Dr. AYardlaw had been minister of the congregation for
nearly fifty years, and his gifts as a preacher and writer
had won for him a high position and a wide influence
in tlie religious world.
West George Street Chapel was built for Dr. Ward-
law in 1823. During his long ministry Glasgow quad-
rupled its population. The chapel, built near what
were then the western suburbs, found itself after a time
in almost the heart of busy Glasgow, and shortly before
this time had been sold to enlarge a railway station, the
congregation continuing to worship in it only until their
GLASGOW. 71
new church should be built, Mv. Porter, the same
who had attracted Ealeigh as a student, became Dr.
Wardlaw's colleague some time before the death of the
latter, and misunderstandings which unfortunately arose
between the two pastors led to the secession of Mr.
Porter, and with him a section of the congregation.
The relations between the churches, the old and the
new, were far from amicable; and so bitter was this
alienation that in spite of indications and advice from
many quarters, pointing to Mr. Ealeigh as a fitting suc-
cessor to Dr. Wardlaw, the West George Street people
refused to think of him, knowing his early admiration
for ]\Ir. Porter, and fearing difficulties in consequence.
When at last the call was sent, the church secretary in
the letter which accompanied it expresses the " perfect
unanimity of the people," and says, "All were ani-
mated by a feeling of gratitude to God for having led
us, not only by ' a way which we knew not,' but by one
which, as formerly explained, we w^ere almost determined
not to know."
The interval of eighteen months between Dr. Ward-
law's death and the choice of his successor had further
weakened the congregation, and the aspect of the large
gloomy church, with its empty spaces, was depressing.
The sense of loss, too, was upon the minister, and there
dwelt in his mind regretful memories of dear friends,
and of the country in Yorkshire — dearer than ever now
that he had left it, and had in exchange the streets and
squares of a busy city. But the welcome from his new
people was cordial ; many true hearts were there, and
72 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
others gathered to his iiiiiiistiy. Before the new church
in Elgin Place was ready for occupation, the older
building was nearly full. The following extracts from
letters, written to friends in Eotherham about this time,
will give some idea of the hopes and regrets with whicli
he began his Glasgow ministry.
Ediahwyjh^ 8th May 1855.
" ]\Lany times every day do I remember my going out
and coming in among yon. . . . The sadness of parting is
over everything yet, and visions of the past, like gleams of
softened sunshine, rise before me in all places where I go.
In a while I hope, and shall strive, that it may be other-
^vise ; but at present the future does not at all possess me,
I live among recollections, and a sorrow that only grace
and time can cure is diffused through all my] inward
life."
Edinburgh, 23d Marj 1855.
"... The last fortnight in Eotherham, and the com-
ing away, were almost unmingled sorrow ; we have felt for
a week or two as if we were still mourning some great
bereavement. ..."
To INIr. Yates, 22d May 1855.
Edvihanjh.
"... I can manage to keep away tlie future, and to
make it vhiH fur me, but the past rises up unbidden, and I
keep company again Avith those wlio are far away. Many
a time have I looked from your front door since I left, and
every object was so distinct that had I been a painter I
could have taken the scene as correctly, as if on the spot,
and often have I renewed the %vorsliip of the dear old
sanctuary.
GLASGOW. V3
" Perhaps 1 maj^ spend a night with you before I go to
be swallowed up in the great ocean of Glasgow life."
To Mrs. Taylor, 15th July 1853.
Glasgow.
" I have now been three Sabbaths in my own pulpit,
and the preaching does not fatigue me more than it used
to do in Masbro'. ... I have begun to visit and make
acquaintance with my flock. Some of them seem to regard
me as a young man on trial, who may, or may not, succeed
after Dr. Wardlaw, Avhich contrasts rather strikingly with
the open door I had in Yorkshire. However, the great
majority of them are kind and cordial, and do me all the
honour, and give me all the trust I deserve. The work is
great, and my health but feeble. However, I shall never
regret coming; — God may strengthen me more than I
expect, and if not, His will be done ! . . ."
To the Same, 15th December 1855.
Glasgoto.
" Need I say that you do quite right in trusting to an
unchanged feeling of friendship and affection in my heart.
In so far as I see, nothing can change it ; it is ' a treasure
that waxeth not old.' Time and distance make it quiet
and silent ; but it is deep and strong as in the happiest
days of my ministry amongst you. . . .
" And surely the dearest things of earth will not be
forgotten or rejected things in heaven. I have sometimes
thought that in some respects we sublimate and spiritualise
heaven in our ideas too much. No doubt it will Tdo purer
than our best conceptions ; but may it not also be homelier
and humbler than we suppose ? . . .
" Things are all prospering with us. The congregation
has greatly increased, and is noAv as large as I wish it to
74 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
be, I tliink we shall fill the new chapel at once. I see
only increasing reason to believe that I did right in regard-
ing myself as called here by the Master. I preach to far
gi-eater numbers of people, and am, I hope, far more gener-
ally useful. . . . The people are all kind and cordial, but
they reverence me so much that I am afraid they will never
think of loving me ! . . . "What shall I say of the picture ?
It will be seven times welcome when it comes, and it shall
go down to my children s children, if I can arrange it
so, with the story of the donors, and of ni}- Yorkshire
life. ..."
When the autumn of 1855 brought back his people
from tlie long summer absence, which is a feature of
Glasgow life, he began his work in earnest. He arranged
a system of visitation from house to house, taking a
small district every week. His church-ofhcer announced
to each family some days before, by a printed notice, the
day and hour of the visit, and this generally ensured the
presence of the whole family. A short service was con-
ducted, and some time spent in conversation. These
somewhat formal visits were usual then in Scotland, and
were a relic of the " catechisings " of an older date, when
ministers were bound to examine all their congxegations,
young and old alike, in their knowledge of the leading
truths of the Bible and Shorter Catechism.
His Bible class for young men and women numbered
upwards of a hundred members. " It was an engage-
ment nothing was allowed to interrupt," writes one who
remembers these lessons, " and not the least delightful
part of the evening, to some of us, was the walk home
with the minister afterwards."
GLASGOW. 75
A mission in the east end of Glasgow, begun pre-
viously, was carried on by his help with renewed vigour
and success, and the people who met in the little church
— a people gathered out of the wynds and closes of the
district — were by his desire formed into a separate
church. They chose Mr. M'Allum, the young missionary
who had laboured amongst them, to be their pastor.
Mr. M'Allum died in 1871, leaving a saintly memory,
cherished by none more lovingly than by Mr. Ealeigh,
who thus writes of him from London in a letter to his
friend Mr. George Thomson : —
" ^Ye had been much lightened by the message that he
was better, and that, as he himself phrased it, he was ' get-
ting some grip of life again.' A grip of life he has in the
high eternal sense, such as few in this world obtain, and it
may be that this world is too cold to give nourishment any
longer to what you so truly call his gentle, Godlike spirit,
which, unknown fully to himself, is panting for the full
summer of heaven.
" On the earthly side, however, the dispensation is dark ;
it seems so strange to us in some moods of mind that
Bismarck and Napoleon are spared to us, while Christlike
souls who live for peace and truth, and all divine things
among men, are taken early away. Eut the Master knows
best. ..."
In December 1855, when the new home was begin-
ning to look less strange, his little daughter Mary, born
about two years before, died after a few days' illness.
She died in Edinburgh, in her grandfather's house, where
the family had gone to spend Christmas, and in giving
her up her father passed through deep sorrow. She
7G ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
liad a baby-word and caress for liiiii till the very last,
and the solemn shadow that touched and stilled her
little face, lay softly ever after on all his life. Her
death broke up once and for ever that happy whole-
hearted security with which, in spite of all our theories,
in youth we hold our treasures, and believe them, to be
absolutely our own. The bitterness of the trial passed
away, but her image lived in his heart, and a word or a
passing allusion sometimes revealed its presence. In
sermons even of recent date we find passages like the
following : —
" God A^Tites in the hearts of father and mother some-
times, the ' goodness and the acts ' — first and last — of a
little infant long long after it is dead. The flickering smile
on the little face, the stretching out of the hand, and the
patience of the last suffering days, these things are can-ied
in some parents' hearts on to the grave and up into
heaven."
In a letter to his wife in 1870 he says —
" Little Mary has never gone out of my heart, although
length of time inevitably makes her less in thought than
just when she went away. Hundreds of times I have re-
called her creeping on the green, and pulling daisies at the
door of our Rotherham house, and on her last bed in
Dublin Street. We shall in no long time go to her, which
will be better, grace granting it, than her returning to us."
To a friend he wrote at this time —
"... She is gone into better keeping. . . . And now
I hope earth is sensibly less to our affections, and heaven
dearer and homelier to our faith. It seemed as if the little
GLASGOW. . 77
tiling knew she was going ; lier patience was wonderful and
the groAvth of her intelligence was like a sudden rijjening
of her powers for the higher life. She was sensible to the
last minute, and fell asleep as sweetly as if ' to-morrow
morning ' would put everything right. And then unearthly
beauty settled on all her countenance — and so we gave her,
with smitten hearts, but thankfully to our God."
To the Eev. Egbert Balgarnie, 18th March 1856.
" What shall I say to you ? but stay, why should I dis-
tress myself ? I have written to you many a time. Every
week I have flashed some message of love and sympathy
along the intellectual telegraph, and i/ you will only think,
you will recollect most of them coming to heart. . . . You
have thought of me standing in the sacred place, and in
very truth, my friend, I have thought of you on Sabbaths,
looking forward like myself to the most blessed of all
earthly labours. Your letter was a beam of the light of
other days ; it would have been answered immediately but
for a sad reason, which I suppose you know. . . . The
shadow of the event has been upon us ever since, and will,
I think, never pass Avholly away from our mortal pathwaj^
AVe do not murmur, we are not unhappy, but somehow life
is changed — everything is touched Avith pensiveness, and
recollections of her jjresence are scattered through all the
experiences of our life. Her place was unnoticed by any
but ourselves, but we feel it now that it was a large jjlace
in the estimate of the heart. ..."
A year later lie writes —
To Sir James Watts, 4th July 1857.
Doivan Hill, Glasgoiv.
"My dear Sir James — I congratulate you on your
honours. Long may you live to wear and adorn }'our new
78 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
title ! And ever ni;iy you feel that the honour, the frank-
ness, the nianliood which have won it are infinitely better
than the title itself ! I do hope for you all that you will
not be spoiled by recent events. I sometimes feel as if
3'ou were passing away from my friendship, although
•certainly not from my continued affection and respect.
But I daresay this is my infirmity, not yours, and that I
shall find you all the same as of old when I drop in some
iifternoon, only a little more anxious, with manifold respon-
sibilities and cares, which I know always attend very
•closely upon honours.
"I must not forget Lady Watts. My most cordial
•congratulations to her also ! She has been a lady ever
•since I knew her, and did not need a prince's visit or a
•queen's word to make her that. May she be as simple,
sincere, and kind with the title as without it ! and may
none of us forget that * the fashion of this world passeth
away !' How swiftly we are getting through its toils, and
exhausting its honours, and drinking its pleasures dry.
]\Iay we have a firm grasp of the incorruptible inheritance,
and the endless life !
" Of course I am coming to the Exhibition in Man-
chester, but I am not coming to stay with you at the Hall,
because I am quite sure you will be overdone with visitors,
but I will come to see you if I am within fifty miles. I
am to preach at the opening of Mellor's new church in
Halifax, then in Sheffield, and then in London for Henry
Allon ; and either going or returning I shall be in
Manchester. !My old love to Emma and Susan and
James. ..."
The new cliurch in Elgin Place was opened in
August 1856, but Mr. Ealeigh was not able to lie pre-
sent. In July he was prostrated by a severe attack of
GLASGOW. 79
inflammation, and for two days it seemed as if his
earthly work was done. At the crisis of the illness his
medical attendant, Dr. Drummond, remained with him
all night, and at early dawn in the silent house, as we
moved with hushed step, and waited, trembling and
fearing, what music was ever like the whispered
words, "He is out of danger." Tlie incident was remem-
bered in sad contrast, on that other morning when his
hour was indeed come, and no hope on the earthward
side was possible.
To complete liis recovery he spent August and part
of September in the island of Arran, and he writes
thence to a friend —
"... I am slowly recovering from a very serious
illness, the most serious I have ever had. I was hovering
between life and death, and at last the balance turned on
the side of life. . . . Now I am recovering, and enjoying
the sea-breezes of this delightful place. ... I had given
up all hope myself, and, like Hezekiab, turned my face to
the wall ; and although now I greatly rejoice in the pro-
spect of living and labouring for God, it would have been
no disappointment to me then to pass away. If only I
have the peace and the deep sense of the love of God
when I come actually to die, Avhich I had when I thought
I was dying, I shall be abundantly thankful. ..."
His new church pleased him much ; he says of it,
" It is quite beautiful, a perfect picture ; " and higher
pleasures came to him, for he mentions having " had a
greater number of instances of direct usefulness than
ever before ; " and again, " I do not know that I have
80 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
been making any progress, except it be in the attain-
ment of a more absolute faith in the Love of God.
Human life and the Gospel are still full of mysteries,-
which I -never no\v attempt to solve, but I think I can
see something of the light of love around them all. All
kinds of experience lead me more directly to this, that
' lie that spared not His own Son ' will with Him
' freely give us all things ' ! "
After his first year in Glasgow new demands were
made upon his time and strength; he took part in
many Christian and .philanthropic movements, but
nothing was ever permitted to draw away his best
energies from the pulpit. People of all shades of reli-
gious thoudit, and some who had never had mucli
religious thought at all, came to Elgin Place Church on
Sabbath afternoons. In the solemn stillness, and the
breathlessness of eager interest that sometimes fell
upon the listeners, many felt that " God was in that
place." It was a rare tiiumph, and one worth winning
in our secular age, that the young people of his con-
gregation, the youths and maidens of the families
attending his ministry, looked forward to the Sabbath
as the great day of their week, and came to its services
.as to a holy festival. The best and highest possibilities
of their being seemed there to be touched -into life, and
the truest memorial of his work in Glasgow was the
heavenward impulse that came to human lives by his
instrumentality. *
It is diliicult, out of the mists which time gathers,
to reproduce with anything like vividness a picture of
GLASGOW. . 81
Mr. Ealeigh's ministiyin Glasgow. Let us listen to
some voices wliicli come to us across the years.
One writes —
" That time in Glasgow is set apart in my memory
never to be forgotten ; we had been long without a min-
ister, and disturbing elements had arisen, so that when we
welcomed Mr, Ealeigh it was with thankfulness as well as
with hope. His heavenly look and smile I remember well
the first Sunday at communion ; and as we went out one
said, 'I have seen his face as it were the face of an angel;'
another (long now in heaven) replied, ' Yes, now will the
church have rest, for we have got a man who has seen
God.' This was a conviction that never left us : * we felt
that God was his close companion and friend, with whom
he took counsel and walked in fellowship.' "
Another wrote, many years ago —
" Some, like myself, thought they were running well
enough, till by his teaching they saw how far back they
were on the heavenly road, and with quickened step
began to press on to a higher mark."
Another —
" I am conjuring up the past of many a day gone by ;
its body a ghost now — its spirit, I trust, to live for ever. If
I could realise the joy of heaven as I used to do the ' joy
of the Lord' in that Elgin Place Church, I do not think I
could hesitate to choose to be ' with Him, which is far
better,' except for the few who would miss me."
Another friend gives the following reminiscences :—
"It was not till the spring of 1857, after Mr. Ealeigh
had been nearly two years in Glasgow, that I was induced
G
82 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
by a friend to go to liis cliurcli one Sunday afternoon.
Never again, "vvhile he remained in Glasgow, did I miss a
sermon of his whicli I could possibly hear.
" I do not know that I can better describe his preaching
than by speaking of it as a strong spiritual force — a living
power under which all former religious ideas received a
vitality which gave them an aspect absolutely new and
fresh. The spiritual life within him seemed to glow mth
a white yet silent heat, illuminating all his thoughts and
words. He kindled the lukewarm convictions of others by
bringing his own • glowing faith into direct contact with
theirs. In Vinet's Avords, ' His manner of preaching did
more than confute doubts, it absorbed them.' I speak first
of this characteristic of Mr. Kaleigh's influence because,
without any conscious knowledge of its power, it was in
truth the greatest and most effective of all the instruments
wherewith he wrought his Master's work.
" Besides this, there was the impressive and dignified
presence, the deep, resonant, often quite pathetic tones of
his voice, to which the northern accent, which he never
lost, gave a singularly great though no uncultured strength ;
words which expressed his meaning with perfect clearness,
and an imaginative power which brought from nature and
from human life illustrations so unforced that they seemed
rather living flowers naturally blossoming on his theme
than dead embellishments which he had fastened to it.
" The liberality of his views was refreshing at a time
when comparatively few men of evangelical sympathies so
true ventured to leave the old lines of thought and expres-
sion ; but his freedom was that of a son within his Father's
house, who knew of nothing that could be gained by leaving
its sacred precincts.
" The scope of his teaching was very wide. During
the eighteen months in which I heard him preach, almost
GLASGOW. 83
every point of Christian faith was touched upon. No one
could enforce more resolutely than he the duty and blessed-
ness of obedience. He could look almost stern as he spoke
of the inflexible majesty of God's righteous law ; but his
words were instinct Avith wonderful tenderness and most
delicate sympathy when he called upon wanderers to return,
or spoke of comfort to the sorrowful spirit. There was a
unique beauty and force in his voice and manner, a re-
strained energy, and an entirely controlled emotion, Avhich
seem to me more characteristic of his ministry in Glasgow
than at any later time.
" It was his custom to give a quiet lecture in the morn-
ing, and the more spirit-stirring discourse in the afternoon.
We used to say that the materials for the fire of the Chris-
tian life were gathered together and laid down in the
morning and kindled in the afternoon.
" His prayers were a most remarkable part of the ser-
vice : full of rich thought and expression, yet essentially
and entirely prayers. It is impossible to convey any idea
of the effect produced by the first words of his prayer. I
think I hear again the solemn, fervent '0 God !' which
seemed to bring us at once into the Holy Presence.
" Into the congregation at Elgin Place naturally gathered
many to Avhom the ecclesiastical position was immaterial,
but who gladly welcomed him as a teacher sent from God.
Among his frequent afternoon hearers were men of all de-
nominations, and some who could hear from the lips of few
others the truth to which he gave so singular and poAverfnl
an attraction. While listening to his teaching, I can truly
say that it seemed easy and delightful to surmount the
difficulties of life. When unexpectedly it was announced
that he was to be no longer with us, clouds and darkness
seemed to overspread the spiritual heavens."
84 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
It soon became evident that the great difficnlty to
be contended with in Glasgow was the trying nature of
the climate. The illness already mentioned was followed
by other illnesses in his family ; and one little child,
born in Glasgow, was brought to the very gates of death.
Yet two months of every summer were spent in the
country, generally in the Island of Arran, where he had
rest and continual joy in the beauty of mountain 'and
sea. It was delightful to pass in an hour from the smoke
of the city to the lovely hills and vaUeys among wliicli
the Clyde flows; but this did not make amends for
lowered vitality during the rest of the year. It was
this consideration chiefly which induced him to give a
hearing to the invitation from London when it came.
Other causes, it must be allowed, had some weight. The
conservatism of a long-established congregation, witli
ways and ideas fixed for fifty years, hampered his action,
and without any blame being attachable to individuals,
fettered his freedom in a way that he felt was a hin-
drance to his work. This of itself, however, would have
been overcome in time had no other conditions of diffi-
culty existed.
The first hint of his removal from Glasgow called
forth strong opposition even from distant friends, but
most of them came to see ultimately that he did right
in going to London. To his people the trial was
severe, and not less so to himself. He had not
intended to leave Glasgow. AU his first thoughts
liad been that he had there found a permanent home,
and it was only necessity of health that led him to
GLASGOW. 85
think of a change to another field as even pos-
sible.
During the weeks when his decision was still
doubtful, all persuasives and arguments were tried
by his people to secure his continuance with them.
One writes : —
" If you could see the affections of your people I am
confident you would say, ' I will not leave a flock whose
life is so bound up with my own. "... Where shall we go
to find a three years' ministry which the Lord has blessed
like yours 1 He whom God has chosen to do such work
may well afford to endure some trials. ... As to the fact
that your health threatens to give way, this is not sur-
prisiug. It is the back-stroke of a broken law. No mind
could stand the strain you have put upon yours to gratify
our intellectual hunger. We are greatly to blame, and
you are more so. . . . Whatever you say to the church,
be assured we shall meet your every wish."
Deputations waited upon him from the members
of the church, from the general congregation, from the
young ; and efforts were made outside of all these by
the religious public of Glasgow to retain him. It was
a serious thing to set aside all these claims, and still
more all the urgencies of affection, and as he fought his
way to a decision, and at last reached it, it was at
great cost to himself Some of his reasons, stated in
letters and elsewhere, shall be given in his own words.
" My work here is going beyond my strength. It
grows unexpectedly fast. I fear there will always be a
struggle between outward claims and my limited capacity
to meet them. The climate of London is greatly better
86 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
than that of Glasgow. The work, at first at least, will
be a little less. Outside claims I shall resist ; and I shall
be aVjle to continue without interruption in the ministr}'-,
Avhich great object I do not think can be reached in Glas-
gow without seriously lessening my service. ... I do not
expect to be richer in material things, and I certainly
believe I shall never have a more attached people."
Again we find liini vriting : —
" I have had to observe the leadings of Divine Provi-
dence, and, like the blind, I have been led by a way which
I knew not. I was settled over a large congregation, in a
position of real importance. God had blessed my ministry,
and opened a 'great door and effectual.' It Avas my pur-
pose to ' occupy ' there until the Master should come, . .. .
But the providential indications remained steady, the same
aspects of the case always came back npon me, and I at
last assuredly gathered that the Lord had called me. . . .
" I go to London to avert a complete failure of strength.
. . . Everything just now is touched with sorrow, and we
have only the consolation of believing that the pillar of
cloud and fire is moving on before us, but this consolation
is the strongest we can have."
His last sermon in Glasgow was preached on 12th
December 1858, from the words, " He led them by a
right way, that they might go to a city of habitations."
It was published at the time in a separate form', and he
says in the few prefatory words, " I felt like a reaper,
belated on the harvest-field, who, seeing that ' the night
cometh,' endeavours to embrace more sheaves than he
can carry, and they drop away from him in the dark-
ness." Of these parting words, "written," he says,
GLASGOW. 87
"during the last days of my stay in Glasgow, amid
many interruptions, and under the constant influence
of that sorrow which is incident to . ' him that goeth
away,' " we quote a few sentences :—
" The Way is narrow, but it leads on to the 'large and
wealthy place.' It is rugged, but it opens at last into the
green pastures, and winds beside the still waters, over
which no blight or blast can come. It is long — at least in
our days of suffering and dreariness we think so ; but seen
in retrospect, and when it has been all trodden, it will
look but like the journey of a day. Fears of death and of
its issues will sometimes arise in our hearts, but when we
actually come to the darkness of the valley and the crossing
of the river, will it not be with us, think you, as it has
been with the myriad multitude who have already passed
over to the other side 1 A few steady steps, with our
hand in His, will take us through all the gloom of the
valley, — a momentary chill in the waters, and our feet
shall stand upon the shore of immortality. . . , Let us
comfort and strengthen ourselves with the assurance that
there is a safe and happy end to all who are in the way.
. . . Everything presages this ; the mystic company has
not been gathered and redeemed with such cost and toil,
only to be scattered and lost. . . . The way has not been
opened and consecrated for short distances only, with gulfs
and deserts left in it that cannot be crossed ; it stretches
away beyond earthly territory and mortal sight, and ends
at the open gate of heaven. Pilgrim ! grasp thy staff
again, and address thyself with good cheer to the way.
Soldier ! take unto thee the whole armour of God, and
stand to the battle ! Son of the Highest ! verify thy
adoption, and seek thy settled home. Heir of God, and
joint heir with Christ ! claim thy inheritance and vindicate
88 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
thy title to it by a holy life. Every fresh discovery we
make in divine truth is like ascending another mount
nearer to the City than we have yet been. Every duty
done is another foot planted in the onward way."
The preacher closes witli no refei'ence to the peculiar
circumstances in wliich he stood ; personal and passing
interests were for the time lost in the one desire that
he might succeed in his great mission, even at the last.
Thus ended the short ministry in Glasgow, amid
tears of sorrow, and yet with thanksgivings for all it
had brought. It ended to outward appearance; but
who shall say that the spiritual force contained in it
ended there ? Who shall tell what far-off harvests may
yet be reaped from that short but diligent sowing ?
CHAPTER IX.
LONDON — HARE COUET,
' ' There are in this loud-stuuning tide,
Of human care and crime,
. With whom the melodies abide
Of the everlasting chime.
"Who carry music in their heart,
Through dusky lane and wrangling mart,
"Who ply their daily task with busier feet.
Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat.'
Keble.
Haee Court Chapel owes its origin to a congregation
of Independents, founded by the Rev. George Cockayn,
minister of the Church of England in the parish of St.
Pancras, and one of the ejected of 1662. Tliose of his
people who adhered to him met for worship till his
death in a room in Redcross Street. In 1672 a chapel
was built in Hare Court, Aldersgate Street, where the
congregation continued to worship for nearly 200 years.
Many stories of the struggle for religious liberty are
connected with the old Hare Court Meeting-house.
Bunyan, Baxter, and Milton were friends of George
Cockayn, and the two former have, almost certainly,
worshipped sometimes in his church. Bunyan died in
the house of a deacon of Hare Court, a grocer on Snow
Hill, lingering there, during a ten days' illness, till he
90 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
was sent for to go in at the gate of the Celestial City.
The service of Commimioii Plate, still in use at Hare
Court Chapel, has come down from these old days, and
of it Mr. Marsh, in his graphic Stonj of Hare Court,
says : " We know that hands have handled these plates
that grasped swords in battles fought for the civil and
religious liberty of England, and lips have kissed these
cups that moved in prayer at tlie deaths of Cromwell,
Milton, and Bunyan."
In course of time, when the old Hare Court Chapel
had become surrounded by warehouses, and the popu-
lation of central London had much diminished, the
trustees, Mr. James Spicer and others, obtained power to
remove the endowments of the place and the old name
to a situation in the suburbs of London. This was
effected in 1858. The new chapel was in the Canon-
bury district ; to it were transferred the few members
still attached to the old church, and it was opened under
the name of Hare Court Chapel, Canonbury.
It was to become minister of this transferred church
that ]\Ir. Raleigh left Glasgow. Mr. James Spicer of
Woodford and Mr. F. Fitch were sent to place the
matter before him ; and, when he came to London with
his family, they made every effort to smooth the transi-
tion to his London home. The congregation was quite
unformed when he came, and it was to him one of the
charms of the place that he must liimself gather a
people around liim, and that he was not asked to enter
" into anotlier man's line of things made ready to his
hand."
LONDON— HARE COURT. ■ 91
On Sunday, the 2d January 1859, lie preached his
first sermon in Hare Court Chapel, It took nearly
a year's work to fill the place, and afterwards alterations
and enlargements were made, from time to time, to meet
the demand for seats, until no more space could be
obtained by any arrangement or compression. The
church-membership, which, when Mr. Ealeigh came,
numbered 34, stands in the report of 1861 at 414, and
in 1867 at 840. Of these 540 were received as mem-
bers for the first time, many of them having been
brought to Christian decision by his instrumentality.
This success was gratefully acknowledged, but his own
ideas of what it is to succeed in spiritual work were
wider and higher than could be contained within any
prescribed limits even of Church life. He says, in
a letter to a friend : " I have too deep a conviction of
the great truth that' ' God giveth the increase ' in His
own time and way, to permit me to say that such and
such results must follow from my poor labours, or else
God is not blessing me. Christ, in one sense, makes us
His friends ; He opens His heart to us, tells us some of
His purposes, and reveals to us the secrets of His love ;
but, in another sense, I think we are still servants, ' and
the servant knoweth not what his Lord doeth' — he
simply obeys the gracious command, ' Go, work to-day
in My vineyard, and whatsoever is right I will give
thee.' The settlement of what is the right reward,
both here and hereafter, is left with Him, and not with
us. It is God's work, and God must do it."
It always gave him more pain than pleasure when
92 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
members of other churches came asking fellowship at
Hare Court. On one occasion a gentleman, who after-
wards became a personal friend and deacon of the
church, came to him to ask admission to membership.
He was leaving, with his family, a chapel at a con-
siderable distance, and himself describes the incident.
" When I first saw ^Mr. Ealeigh (it was in the vestry at
Hare Court), and told him all the circumstances, he said,
' I am sorry to hear this, I don't want to take away
members from other churches, and I would much rather
you would not come.' I said in reply, ' Well, sir, you
can, of course, refuse to admit me, but, nevertheless, I
shall attend Hare Court, whether I become a member
of the church or not.' ' IsTo,' he answered, ' I cannot
refuse to admit jow, if you persist in your wish to be
transferred, but I would much prefer you remaining
where you are.' This reluctance was continually re-
peated ;. the fulness of joyful welcome was reserved for
those who came for the first time to sit down at the
Table of the Lord."
Of these first years in London an ofi&ce-bearer of
Hare Court writes : — " A career of prosperity com-
menced then perhaps unexampled in the history of one
church. Able men flocked to the minister, and lent
their strength and means to the works which were set
on foot. A sister chapel was built at Milton Eoad,
Stoke Newington, and in rapid succession followed the
missions of Elder Walk, Macclesfield Street, and Hox-
ton." Bermondsey and Chequer Alley were mission
stations already in existence, and these were affiliated
LONDON— HARE COURT. 93
to Hare Court. For such Cliristiau objects money
flowed in as it was needed, and more and better far than
money, men and women came and ' offered Avillingly '
to the Lord time, talents, and strength, to serve in these
and other enterprises.
We have his own sketch of this period : —
" When I came' to Hare Court the httle flock, hardly
numbering twelve eff"ective members, was recruited by
large accessions at our first church meetings, and the
process of increase was steadily aud happily maintained for
years. It cannot be all in my memory, it must be also in
yours, that these first years of our communion in Avorship
and work and love were very pleasant; The light of the
morning was on everything, and it was ' a morning without
clouds.' There were saintly souls with us then, many of
whom are in heaven now, Avho in character and spirit were
very beautiful, and Avho contributed largely to leave in my
memory that nameless but deathless charm which attaches
itself to these first years. But, indeed, every year of my
life here has been a happy year. ... I remember your
willingness to work, in some cases amounting to eagerness ;
the promptitude with which some things have been done ;
the long years of labour, week by week^ and sometimes
night after night, which some of you have undergone for
instruction of the ignorant and the finding of the lost —
wearied often in the flesh, but unconquerable in the spirit—
and I thank God that, it has been my privilege to refresh
and help you somewhat during all these years.
" Of what I myself have done in the ministry of the
truth, in the watch for souls, I have Httle or nothing to
say, because I do not know hoAV much the work has been.
I sometimes think it has been considerable. I believe
that not a few have been brought to the Saviour, and
94 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
have here found the grace of full consecration to God.
I believe that not a few have been instructed more or less,
and refreshed and strengthened, by the services here. Some
have been sustained, and kept going on and on, amid
weariness and difficulty and suffering and heart-pain. And
many — oh ! how many — have died ; some in triumph,
some in hopefulness, some in peace. My success might
have been far more if I had been more wise and more con-
secrated; but I am thankful that it has been so much.
Thankful, too, that so much of it has been unseen. I have
gathered my harvest as much as possible quietly, and as
from fields of silence. It has been enough for me to know
that I was really helping many of you, and many no longer
here, in this hard life-struggle, making the day now and
again a little brighter over your head, sorrow not quite
so sad, cross and burden not quite so heavy, and the
inevitable end of life here a thing far more to be desired
than feared."
It was true that the many Christian enterprises of
the Hare Court congregation drew their inspiration
largely from the pulpit, although Mr. Ealeigh had not
a great gift of organisation,, and it was not easy for him
to arrange work for others. He used to say,- " If I had
the administrative faculty of Dr. Allon I should get
double the amount of work out of the Hare Court
people." He never, or very rarely, told them in so
many words to do any special duty ; he simply, by a
spiritual influence, lifted them from the common level
of the world into a region where they met with God.
He touched their daily life, and brought to bear on it
the powers of the world to come — the tender memories
of Calvary filled their hearts, the light of heaven
LONDON— HARE COURT. 95
shone on many a scene of domestic drudgery or city
toil, and almost before tliey knew it, life became a
service.
The wise and watchful guidance of the work of the
church involved much labour, and to this were added
his own special pastoral cares — Bible classes for the
young, and evening services during the week. He
saw all inquirers himself, and alone. Many came at
his invitation to ask counsel in perplexity ; and none
came who did not find a patient hearing and well-con-
sidered help. He visited metliodically all tlie families of
his congregation, because he valued the personal influ-
ence that such an effort brings. An entire round of
visits was completed during liis second year at Hare
Court ; and once agam after an interval of a year or
two. Subsequently, pressure of engagements made the
practice less thorough, although it was always attempted
in a greater or less degree. On these occasions he was
careful to lead the conversation to spiritual subjects,
fearing lest such visits should become mere calls of
courtesy. ' He saw that if Christian people were in
earnest they might do a true work in the field of ordi-
nary social intercourse; and his own experience led
him to believe that there are in all circles of life some
who are longing, half unconsciously it may be, for a
word of sympathy and counsel from Christian Kps, and
that too often they wait and long in vain.
Once in conversation with two of his hearers, who
were not members of the church, he reminded them of
the duty of uniting themselves openly to the Lord's
96 ■ ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
people. His way of speaking, perhaps the more effect-
ive that it cost him an effort, touched the springs of
feeling, and the reply came, " Oh, Mr. Pialeigh, we have
had Christian friends, and we have worshipped with
Christian people for many years, and we have wondered
that no one ever spoke so to us before."
Besides ordiuaiy pastoral visits, there were, of course,
others paid to homes to which sickness or death had
come. This claim was considered imperative, and not
even the work of the study was ever allowed to inter-
fere with it. He carried no officialism into the house
of mourning. Whatever the sorrow or the care was, it
became in a sense his own ; the sufferers knew, instinct-
ively that he was bearing the burden with them ; and
then on the wings of faith and prayer he sought to lift
both it and them into the presence of the Comforter.
Throughout his ministry it was given to him to help
many a one to die, to put trembling hands into the
hand of the Good Shepherd, and almost to see the home-
going pilgrim safe through the dark valley. Even 'in
his early ministerial life he was sought for in circum-
stances where a touch of peculiar tenderness was
wanted. At Greenock, among his seafaring people,
when a ship came into port witli her flag half-mast
high, the task was often his to break to the sailor's
wife the tidings that her husband had died at sea or in
a foreign land. Later, in "London, when an accident or
a sudden sorrow brought him to some family, who till
then had known him chiefly as a preacher, they were
surprised to find how his reserve vanished, and how
LONDON— HARE COURT. 97
tender and brotherly his nature was. Or if a young life
was smitten, he sometimes had to tell the sufferer the
message, " There is no hope ; " and even with his words
a better hope arose, and God's angel Death stood trans-
figured. Many hold his name in their hearts along
with other names, consecrated for ever by death, and
remembered with thoughts " too deep for tears." . And
some who had hoped that when the time of departure
should come to them he would hold their hands as
they went down to the river, are touched with a strange
sense of disappointment to think that he has gone over
before them, and that in that supreme hour he cannot
minister to them.
To his sensitive nature such sympathy was literally
" suffering together," and involved some wasting of the
life-forces. But lessons learnt in the death-chamber,
or in homes of sorrow, gave him power to reach the
hearts of men and women when he spoke from the
pulpit. Sometimes he would say, " I am writing a
sermon for , or ," and the message meant for
individuals went home to the hearts of others unknown
to him.
After his first year in London, public claims, both
within and without his denomination, increased, and in
spite of his desire to reduce these to a minimum, they
multiplied as the years went by.
One of his earliest public efforts was the annual
sermon of the London Missionary Society, which he
preached in Surrey Cha-pel in May 1861. " God's
purpose and man's opportunity" was his subject; his
H
98 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
text Esther iv. 14, " Wlio knoiveth whether thou art come
to the kingdom for such a time as this ? " The audience,
filling every corner of the buUding, was held in almost
breathless silence as the preacher spoke of the liigh
counsel of God, and the co-operation God expects from
men and from nations. Strong men were visibly
touched, and the hearts of many burned within them as
he described how swiftly opportunities for service pass,
never to return :
" Like the opening of a massive gate, which admits to
a place where it imports us most urgently to be. That
gate swings open on its hinges, and we can enter easily, if
we do so at once — not at all, if we delay ; for in a moment
or two it swings itself back again, and in the clang of its
close we hear the knell of our opportunity. Or it is like
the lifting of a drawbridge at the height of the highest
tide, that the stately vessel, freighted and stored, may get
out to sea. At the height of that tide she will float easily
away ; in a few minutes it is too late ; the tide is ebbing,
the bridge is doAvn, and perhaps for weeks her prow will
not part the waters, her sails will not whiten the sea.
Such are our moral opportunities, our seasonable times for
action and usefulness. They are very precious ; they are
very brief ; and when they are gone they cannot be re-
newed. God's great purposes will travel on ; but our co-
operation there is impossible for ever."
His closing passage comes like a trumpet-call to all
the army of God to go on with the great warfare : —
" No doubt speculative opposition to Christianity, or
to any of its parts, must be met and overcome in a calm
argumentative way. But there is another demonstration
LONDON— HARE COURT. 99
of the truth and excellence of the Christian religion, —
more striking and more convincing to the popular under-
standing, — that which every Christian can give by a stead-
fast adherence to its holy principles, and by an unflagging
zeal in its diffusion amongst men. You say, ' Strange !
perplexing ! that the scholar should be doubting.' Yes ;
but that is not all. How reassuring to see that ordinary
Christians go on believing ; nay, grip the truth with faster
hold because they have heard of the scholar's doubts.
You say, ' See, the thinker is pausing ! ' I say, ' See, the
worker is going on with his work ! ' You say, ' Some of
the very leaders of the Christian army are drawing back ! '
But behold how the great embattled host goes calmly,
bravely up the steep, and these leaders must fall into the
ranks, or be trodden in the mire, if they seek to oppose
the victorious march. To our work, brethren ! This mis-
sionary day calls us anew to our work. . . ."
Soon after this time Mr. Ealeigh became one of six
ministers who hold the office of " Merchants' Lecturers
in the City of London." The Lecture was instituted in
1672, when the Declaration of Indulgence gave a tem-
porary liberty to Nonconformists to teach or preach.
Amongst those who held the office in early times were
John Owen, Eichard Baxter, Thomas Manton, and John
Howe. The Lecture was intended to give a weekly
opportunity for a short interval of worship and thought,
in their busy day, to the merchants of the City. It was
an hour he much enjoyed ; and by contrast, in the stir
of London, the deep calm truths of God seemed to have
peculiar fitness.
Once, coming home after his lecture, he said, " I have
100 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
reason to be very thankful to-day." On his way to the
Poultry Chapel, where the service was then held, he was
crossing Cheapside when a hansom cab came upon him
from an unexpected quarter. Eemembering in a mo-
ment the danger from the shaft, he threw himself down,
the horse passed over him, and being suddenly checked
by the driver, stepped back over him a second time.
Mercifully he escaped almost without injury, and as he
rose, covered with mud from head to foot, a friend met
him on the pavement, and accompanied him to the
chapel, where, with a gown to conceal the effects of the
disaster, he preached as usual.
In August 1861, in company vdih his brother-in-
law Mr. Adam Gifford, Mr, Kaleigh spent several- weeks
in Norway. Extracts from notes of his journey may be
of interest.
" I left Edinburgh on Friday, August 5th, for Hull, and
we took our passage, as soon as we arrived, for Christiania
in the * fine screw steamer ' Ganger Rolf.
" Some scenes and hours of life are not easily forgotten,
and I remember that night as the scene of a very consider-
able mental struggle. . . . The night was dismal, the dock
lights shed a melancholy gleam through the darkness, the
jargon of the foreign sailors sounded almost inhuman, and
even when I went on board and wandered about the vessel,
and looked at the cabin and the berths, I could not find,
in sight or sound or smell, anything that met me with a
touch of sympathy. The whole black hulk of the vessel
seemed to say, ' I don't want you to come with me. If you
come to roll by my help across the great ocean, which is
my home, you do it at your own proper peril.' And so I
did, at last."
LONDON— HARE COURT. 101
Describing the Sabbath at sea, with rough weather
and sickness, he writes : —
" By the law of resemblance one might have remem-
bered the storm on the Sea of Galilee, or some verses of
the 107th Psalm — ' They mount up to the heaven, they go
down again to the depths, their soul is melted because of
trouble.' But by the law of contrast, I suppose, it was the
23d Psalm that I tried to summon to my help, as I sat for
some hours towards evening, within a dim border-land
between hope and misery. One note from that ' nightin-
gale among the Psalms ' fell sweetly, said over from memory
(reading was out of the question), * He leadeth them beside
the still ivaters.' The contrast was strange and assuaging. . . .
" In the middle of the German Ocean there is a bank
called the ' Dogger Bank,' which the captain sought dili-
gently with his lead. It is so near the surface that it can
be felt, and yet not so near that any vessel ever touches it.
When the captain succeeded in ' gripping ' it, as he said,
the old Norse sailor smiled and held on his way. He was
in the right track. In the longer voyage we are all making
— there are deep things of God, hidden from sense and
sight — which we do well to ' grip,' now and again, with
the plummet of our faith, sailing on through storm and
shade to the fair havens of promise."
{Near Christiansand.) — " There was a strange enchant-
ment in gliding in by narrow passages, close by rocky
shores, into the quiet bay where our vessel cast anchor for
the night. The twilight was long and beautiful, the silence
(Jeep — intense. Some notes of a bugle -like instrument
broke the intensity of the silence, and added a new thrill
of delight — some thoughts which cannot be recorded,
relating to the close of the greater voyage ; some askings,
and not for myself alone, from Him who can give charge
102 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
to its winds and waves, and make it end in peace, and then
— sleep."
{Ill Christ iansand.) — "There is no display of workman-
ship in the different trades, or of wares in the different
branches of merchandise, No shop windows there ; no
' tremendous bargains ; ' no ' ruinous sacrifices ; ' no * sell-
ing off without reserve.' That simple, unpretending city
on the banks of the Torresdal lives on from year to year
without all that. I doubt not it has its sins, its sorrows,
its secret struggles, its rivalries ; but it tells no public lies,
it makes no fretful strife and stir. It deals gently with
God's silence. Blessings on its quietness ! It soothes a
weary man but to think of it.
" My next impression was that of a constant universal
industry. Every one I met seemed to be doing something.
I saw no loungers ; I met no beggars. I do not remember
being asked for an alms even once during my whole journey.
It is a poor country, where the land that is under culture
seems to have been fought for inch by inch, and is still
held as in the presence of an enemy, rocks frowning around
the little patches of cultivation, the great hills casting
threatening shadows into the valleys ; summer shining
briefly, and winter staying long. And yet the people
stand in great strength and independence. In London we
are rolling in wealth, and swarming Avith beggars ; bright
with civilisation, and dark with crime. I make no hasty
generalisation ; I simply note the difference."
10th August. {On Lake Mio sen.) — " Farmers have come
on board — and some ministers. I almost envied these
last, — for this reason, that they are nearly all farmers. They
have land from the State, glebe land, which they cultivate.
And their manses did look so sweet, and their lot so desir-
able, that I thought, oh ! to be a minister in Norway ; but
without the least intention of resigning my charge at
LONDON— HARE COURT. 103
Canonbury. . . . The Light here makes everything fair.
Such light we never have in England at any season. It
gives a new sense to some passages of Scripture — ' We are
all the children of the light and of the day,' '0, House of
Israel, come ye ; let us walk in the light of the Lord.' ....
Went out at night and sat by the river-side. Saw in the
deepening twilight the cones of the hills, and nearer, the
spire of the village church ; and listened to the murmur-
ings and talkings of the river as it went on its way. The
same murmurings and talkings which have been breaking
gently on the ear of silence there, for thousands and
thousands of years, telling to the same vast solitude, and
now and again to a listener like myself, that all things are
' full of labour,' and all hastening on to rest."
12th August. — "I do not always remember my birth-
day, but many times on the road I have thought of to-day
as the anniversary of my marriage, the happiest event of
my life."
Saturday. — " Up at half-past six, and on the road by
eight. For three or four days we have been ascending,
and now come to the watershed of the country, and begin
to descend by the banks of streams that fall into the
Atlantic on the western side of Norway. . . . Look at this
fosse in passing down, at the rush of the foamy river be-
tween those narrow rocks, at the break of the waters over
the edge in absolute delirium. Look into those abysmal
depths where darkness and horror dwell, and the boiling
waters go round and round for evermore, and then, shiver-
ing, draw back — lest the balance of the brain be lost, and the
great forces of nature fascinate the wavering eye, and crush
you in their destroying arms ! . . .
" The road bends perilously over the gulf. I would
not drive down here with an English mettled horse for all
the wealth of Norway.
104 ALEXANDER BALEIGH.
" Safety with the Norwegian ponies is to let them
gallop at their own sweet will — they never stumble, they
are never at fault. . . . Soon we enter the valley of Eoms-
dalen, which is overwhelmingly grand and beautiful. The
effect on my mind was that of oppression by excess of
admiration, weakness by too much delight. One sought
relief and rest in devotion. ' In His hands are the deep
places of the earth ; the strength of the hills is His also.' "
Sahhath. — " Eested according to the commandment.
Walked to the river- side and worshipped in the great
temple — the 'house not made with hands.' We meant to
go to a little church not far from the station, but we found,
much to our disappointment, that thei'c was no service that
day. It was one of four in the same parish, and is vocal
with praise and prayer only once a month. I thought that
while they had too little, perhaps Ave have too much of the
Gospel, — for, indeed, that is possible; and I thought that a
few months' residence in that valley would operate as a
spiritual corrective to some fastidious tastes, and impart a
more healthful moral tone to some appetites, made too
dainty by the abundance and variety of their spiritual pro-
vision. . . ."
^
CHAPTER X.
LONDON — HAEE COURT — Continued.
" Where in life's common ways
With cheerful feet we go ; •
When in His steps we tread
Who trod the way of woe ;
Where He is in the heart,
City of God ! thou art."
Palgrave.
In these early years of Mr. Raleigh's Hare Court min-
istry he lived in a very joyful atmosphere. He was
well — his life was full of varied interest — success of the
kind he cared for most was given him — he had devoted
friends, and he had what he always enjoyed, the im-
pulse and the inspiration of living in London. For
twenty years from this time he was ahle, through the
goodness of God, to go on in a course of steady service,
with hardly a serious interruption.
He owed his ability to meet victoriously the mass
of work which came to his hand, in no small degree to
his punctuality, or, as it might be called, his time-instinct,
which kept him calm and self-possessed in the midst of
claims pressed so closely as to need careful adjustment.
Even as a boy he was noted for punctuality. His
106 ALEXANDER EALEIGH.
mother used to say that she had never had an anxious
moment on his account ; " when he went out he said
when he would be back, and he ahvai/s Icpt to the time."
In his busy days in London he was never known to miss
a train, or to be late for an engagement — indeed, he was
generally much too soon. Once only in his life, so far
as is known, was he late for a public service. He had
gone from Kotherham to preach for Dr. Campbell at the
Tabernacle in London. ISTot having been told that the
Sunday evening service there began half-an-hour earlier
than in other churches, he arrived a few minutes after
six o'clock, and found Dr. Campbell in the pulpit and
the service going on. It was in those days considered
an honour, and it was somewhat of an ordeal, for a
young minister to preach for Dr. Campbell, and Mr.
Ealeigh was filled with dismay. In the vestry after the
service, Dr. Campbell, with the authority of a father in
the Gospel, said somewhat severely — " Young man, let
me give you a word of advice, always he in time." Mr.
Raleigh, touched on his one unassailable point, replied
with a warmth seldom evoked m his own defence — " Dr.
Campbell, let me give yoic a ' word of advice.' When
you begin your service half-an-hour earKer than any one
else, always make known the fact." The doctor smiled
at the retort, and gracefully acknowledged that the mis-
take was his own.
The root of his punctuality lay deeper than mere
habit. He could do nothing by halves, his whole soul
went into his work, and he sprang forward, so to speak,
to meet it at the earliest point. Once, to a friend, he
LONDON— HARE COURT. 107
said — " We ought to be able reverently to apply the words
to our own life, ' Lo ! I come' — /, my whole self, my un-
divided being, to the duty of the hour." He gave the
impression of one whose life flowed with no feeble
meandering current, but full and deep, open to receive
influences on every side. He seemed to be always
nerved and armed, whether for work or for warfare.
In his many homecomings, from longer or shorter
absences, he almost invariably arrived before the expected
time, and his step in the hall, whether he came or went,
with purpose and good cheer in it, had inspiration in its
very sound.
His regard to time was very characteristic, and his
own words describe exactly his manner of life.
" Time must be managed like any other property ; it
must be anticipated, it must be taken by the forelock. It
must be harnessed like a steed, ploughed like a field, fenced
like a garden, defended like a castle, walked with like a
friend. The plain English of this is — that you are to put
a little more arrangement and purpose into your day,
and then stand by what you arrange and do what you
propose. . . .
" In every well-ruled life there will be strict homage
paid to certain hours of the day, which form points of
engagement with fellow -creatures. ... Be true to the
engagement in the letter of it, and to the moment as far as
you possibly can. No man can be omnipotent iii life ;
every man must bend and sway as the great tide of cir-
cumstance carries him on its breast ; many a word truly
spoken, many a promise truly made, cannot be kept in the
letter of it. Well, keep those that can be kept. Let your
soul have in this way daily drill and discipline ; let it, as
108 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
a soldier, present arms to the hours, and march as under
command of a general, to the keeping of a promise, to the
doing of a duty."
He told Ills Canonbury people soon after he came
amongst them how much he desired a little leisure —
that " as a call has arisen for the strength of the Puritan
theology, it might be well, as a means to that end, to
give us ministers a little more of the Puritan leisure ; to
let us have our quiet untroubled days, that we may read
our books, and think our thoughts maturely, and refresh
and solemnise our spirits with ciivine and eternal things,
and then speak to our people that which we do know, and
testify that which we have seeji."
That cool and shady picture of quiet days — with
books and time to read them, is idyllic in its beauty ;
but it is almost an unconscious satire on the life of a
London minister in full work. God gave him grace to
go through it all with a quiet heart, although, as good
old John Newton says, " A person had need to have a
good constitution of grace to preserve a tolerable share'
of spiritual health in London."
On the other hand, London developed all his powers,
and rounded while it strengthened his character. The
" multitude of business " never soured his nature, but, by
the discipline of its continual demands on patience and
self-control, his life in the great city helped to make
him the man he was.
Some extracts from letters written about this time
will, better than any description, teU something of the
tone and history of his life.
LONDON— HARE COURT. 109
To Miss M'Keand (a Friend in Glasgow), 18th July 1859.
London.
" It was kind of you to write me in my solitude. I
continue to hear good accounts of my ' company,' which,
like Jacob's, has ' gone on before ' me. This day week I
hope to follow ; I shall be glad to escape from the swelter-
ing heat. Yesterday I had a service of not much above
an hour, both morning and evening. My evening text was
' Quiet resting-places' Isn't it beautiful ? The sermon is, I
think, one of my best. . It was written, as you may suppose,
amid a quietness which grew sometimes almost too still. I
would have been glad to have been interrupted now and
again by pattering feet and shrill little voices. ... I hope
your Sabbaths are passing pleasantly. I don't know how
it is, but there is always a feeling of strangeness, with a
kind of ;pang in it, when I make any allusion to Elgin
Place ; it seems sometimes as if I were only here for a
time, and were coming back. I have a dreamy yet tena-
cious lingering of heart about the place. I suppose the
feeling is the stronger, because I know so well that I can
never return ; that all my goings out and comings in there
are over for ever."
To the Same (on her Mother's death), 2d March 1860.
Gloucester Villas.
" I have been thinking of you very often since we re-
ceived the melancholy intimation of that event which has
so altered all your earthly life, and left you so much more
alone than you have ever been. I would have written
sooner, but felt, as indeed I do still, that .1 could not
hope to say anything, that would increase your comfort or
lessen your grief, or open any unknown spring of conso-
lation.
no ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
" I have sometimes felt, indeed, that in cases of the deepest
mourning, comfort to the mourner is only postponed by too
hasty and too much presentation of the very truths which
in a little while, will be wells of salvation, out of which the
soul will draw water with joy. I have been sitting down
with you, at times, ' upon the ground,' sharing somewhat
the grief I could not hope much to alleviate. I pray that
it may be assuaged by the Comforter Himself — that you
may have strength to go through these first weeks of sorroAV
and separation Avithout fainting — that, as time wears on,
the event may lie less and less in shadow, more and more
in light, and that all your recollections of the calm and
beautiful life which is now lived through, and sealed for
ever with the seal of heaven, may help you to live, so that
you shall not fear nor long to die. . . .
" Welcome all that brings the perfect day nearer ! . . .
The thorn — the cloud — the night — the closed fellowship —
the bitter loss — the heart-heaviness — fm' a season ! All
will work together for good, and hereafter will be the
theme of song. ..."
To Mr. J. B. Williams, 12th March 1861.
LonHon.
" When I received the newspaper this morning, under
your -writing and with the black seal, a quick fear entered
my heart, for I remembered that as a family you noAv
present many marks for the arrows of death. But hoAv
was I grieved to find, on looking to the obituary, that
the fear was too well founded, and that the selected one
is your eldest — . . . your first-born on earth — your
first-born also into heaven. . . . Seldom have I seen
any one so thoughtful, so ready, so full of loving and
helpful ways while so young. And now the Good >Shep-
LONDON— HARE COURT. Ill
herd, apparently by a quick and unexpected call, has
drawn her nearer to Himself, quite into safety and eter-
nal rest. . . .
"You know it is all right, like all God's laws and
doings — holy and just and good ! But yet I know you
will feel bereaved, and her dear face, calm now in the still-
ness of death, will be more to you than all this world's
hopes and joys. May the ' God of all comfort ' stay and
succour you, as He only can do, while you pass through the
dark days of grief ! May your sorrow soon give place to
thankfulness, and may heaven be the dearer to you because
you have so much more precious treasure there ! I write
in haste, but with fulness of sympathy, and with a tender
personal sorrow for my young friend, whom I loved very
much. ..."
To a Friend, 4th July 1861.
Lower Jop'pa.
"I ought to have written many days since. ... In
vacation - time an invincible indolence seems to reign
supreme. . . . My Highland trip was very pleasant on the
whole. On Sabbath, at , instead of being ' edified,'
at least to my own knowledge, it seemed as if the preacher
were taking aioay the stones from the walls of the inner
temple. The subject was the taking of Jericho ; he had
three heads, and five or six subdivisions under each, and,
as the process went on, with great vigour on his part, a
strange subjugated and strengthless feeling crept over me;
and at last — in despair concerning the preacher, myself,
and the universe — I fell ' flat down ' in spirit, as the walls
of Jericho after the trumpets had sounded.
"In the afternoon I went to the Temple which is
walled with hills and roofed with sky, and drew in some
new strength and hope. . . ."
]12 ALEXANDER EALEIGH.
The above letter recalls an incident which occurred
during one of his Highland journeys. He happened to
travel for some hours in the company of the late Mr.
Campbell of INIonzie. A party of Oxford men, with
High Church proclivities, joined them, and the conver-
sation turning upon Church matters, grew somewhat
warm. Mr. Ealeigh took a middle position in the dis-
cussion, and expressed broader views than a staunch
Tory and a Free Church Presbyterian could approve.
As the party was about to separate, Mr. Campbell
looked with a little disappointment at his countryman
in the tweed suit and broad felt hat, and asked, " What
minister do you sit under in London ? " The reply, " I
don't sit under anybody," brought the vehement re-
joinder, " Oh, I thought you were one of these lost
Scotchmen ! " Mr. Ealeigh enjoyed the mistake . too
much to offer any explanation.
To his Mother, 31st December 1861.
London.
■ "All the good wishes of the season are hereby wafted
on the very last wing of the year to you and yours ! To
yourself there will not be many returns of the season, but
may they all be ' happy,' and the happiest of all that which
comes after the last. ' The Lord will give grace and glory'
— * Ebenezer, hitherto the Lord hath helped us ! '
" I am as busy as a summer bee, and sometimes it
seems wonderful that my strength holds out. We admitted
to church-fellowship last night fifty-six. It took nearly
two hours to read the reports. None of our friends had
ever attended a church meetin£< like it. . . ."'
LONDON— HARE COURT. 113
To his Wife (then Avatching by the death-bed of her
father), 21st July 1862.
London.
" I am very glad to see from your notes that your father
is on the whole much better than you hoped to find him.
. . . Little A. went to chapel yesterday. She was a little
tired with the heated place, and I carried her down New-
ington Turning. We had dinner as usual, with various
references to your absence from little tongues ; and a feeling
of it, unuttered, in a certain heart. Dinner was to me the
more grateful because, by a noble collection, we had pro-
vided dinners for the poor in Lancashire : in the morning
£100; in the evening, £55. , . , Tell your father to be
of good courage, and patiently to ' wait for the salvation
of God.' Sometimes, when I am very weary, I could
almost envy your mother and him that place of nearness
to the everlasting kingdom which they occupy."
Mr. Gifford died on Sabbath morning, 27th July
1862. On receiving the tidings, Mr. Ealeigh wrote to
his wife : —
" I got the telegram last night, and sorrowed with you
through its sleepless hours ; but joy comes in the morning,
for surely we cannot but rejoice in dear grandpapa's eleva-
tion. He seems to have gone up in the dewy freshness of
the blessed day, entering into the Temple on high before
our 'hour of prayer,' and finding it the hour of praise in
heaven. , . . How grateful should we be that all was so
peaceful at the end, and that after only so much sufi'ering
as would make the true Eest ' all his desire,' he entered it
in peace. . . .
" I could have liked that he had seen the children once
more ; but God has seen fit to postpone the meeting. . . .
I
114 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
I read this morning, * Let not your heart be troubled ;' and
I pray this prayer for you now, and all day long, that you
may have no heart-trouble that is not assuaged and ended
in deep heart-peace. ..."
■ To his Wife, 12th August 1862.
"... We have completed eleven years of joint pil-
grimage in love and happiness. . . . And God has made
our way musical with the patter of little feet ; and heaven
is dearer since one of ours has been taken to perfect His
praise ; and now your father has made it dearer still by his
preoccupancy. May we and ours travel with steadfast feet
after the forerunners. . . ."
In March 1863 lie was called to mourn the loss of
his mother, to whom he owed so much, and whose devout
faith and enthusiastic love of all truth had given him
his first impulse in life. On the Sabbath after her death
lie said to his people, after referring to bereavements
which had taken place amongst them : —
" I too have my sorrow to-day; and it may be forgiven
me if I put myself in the little company of mourners.
Yesterday there passed into the heavens, in a ripe old age,
and with full preparations of grace, one endeared to me by
all the tender memories that gather round a mother's name,
and to-day I could have wished to worship, or sit in silence,
thinking of things long gone by, the Sabbaths of my youth,
and the days and the years of my pilgrimage since."
He was impressed with the fresh beauty, as of youth,
imprinted on his mother's face after death. All traces
of the long pain and weariness gone, as if, when the
LONDON— HARE COURT. 115
spirit rose to the better life, a ray of its glory had fallen
on the poor empty tenement — a parting benediction from
the companion of so many years.
About this time Mr. Ealeigh's first book, Quiet
Besting-Places, was published ; and it would have been
a pleasure to him had he been permitted to put into his
mother's hand this first- fruit of his pen.
He was persuaded to publish the volume chiefly for
the sake of the congregations who could no longer hear
his voice, but who held so large a place in his affection ;
and, having no expectation of gaining an audience much
beyond this immediate circle, he was pleased and sur-
prised at the welcome given to it. He often spoke of
other possible works which he wished to prepare, but
the demands of daily duty left him no time or strength
for literary work. The Story of Jonah, however, fol-
lowed in 1866 ; and in 1872 the Little Sanctuary. His
latest work, on Esther, was published only a week before
his death.
Much that was especially his own is of necessity
lost in the printed page — the thrill of certain tones, the
look, the gathering up of the whole man in intense agree-
ment with the uttered words, the spell that held himself
as well as his hearers when together they stood under
the shadow of some great truth — these things can never
be reproduced. As he says himself in his preface, speak-
ing of a " true sermon" — " The grace of the fashion of it
perisheth." But everything about it does not perish ;
there remains the tenderness and freshness of spiritual
thinking, the clear vision of God and of heaven, breathed
116 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
into sentences often delicately sweet in their rhythm, and
which cany home the thought "as on music's outspread
wings." He was glad and thankful to know that many
who never heard his voice were helped and comforted
by his books.
It may be remembered that the bicentenary com-
memoration in 1862 of the expulsion of two thousand
ministers from the Church of England led to consider-
able controversy on points in dispute betv>^een Church
and Dissent. In answer to certain statements put forth
by Church writers, Mr. Joshua Wilson, Tunbridge Wells,
published a pamplilet entitled Calumnies Confuted. A
copy of this pamplilet was forwarded by the author
to the Eev. Charles Kingsley. In acknowledging the
gift, I\Ir. Kingsley wrote : —
Eversley Rectory, 20th May 1863. — "I think that you
make out clearly the iniquity of the Act of Uniformity of
1662. . . . One point I wish to mention in connection
with the present movement for abolishing subscription to
the Articles, to which I do not object, and 'reformation' of
.the Liturg}% to which I do. It seems to me that the silenc-
ing of the Calvinistic party in 1662, by however base men
and means it was effected, was a boon to liberality and to
the expansion of the human mind. The Church of England
platform, I hold, is wider in every way than that of any
Calvinistic denomination. An egregious instance is the
fact that the point on which Baxter felt most scruple was
the rubric asserting the salvation of all baptized infants. I
can only regard the insertion of that statement as a boon
to the Church and mankind ; as a move in the liberal direc-
tion to be fought for at all risks. I revere the piety of
Baxter. I would not have turned him out myself; but I
LONDON— HARE COURT. 117
cannot grieve over his Iccaving the Church if that was the
main ground on which he left."
Mr. Kingsley went on to argue that the omission of
the clause of " regeneration " would be contraction, not
expansion of the Liturgy, and that the Church should
resist most strenuously the concession of a " liberty of
prophesying, which is but a liberty of cursing." He
declared that there were hundreds of ISTonconformists,
especially among the Independents, whom he would
willingly see in the Church. But his impression was
that the liberal Nonconformists were in the minority.
In conclusion, Mr, Kingsley wrote : —
" I entreat you to think over my words. If you like to
show them to any leading Nonconformists you are most
welcome."
Mr. Wilson took advantage of this permission to
show the letter to Mr. Raleigh. After some hesitation
Mr. Ealeigh wrote to Mr. Kingsley a letter dealing
with the points raised in the letter to ]Mr. Wilson.
After acknowledging the fairness and catholic spirit of
that letter he went on to accept Mr. Kingsley's admis-
sion in regard to the Act of Uniformity. He suggested
that Evangelical Churchmen would have done well to
admit the "iniquity" of the Act at the beginning of
the bicentenary agitation, but he felt bound to confess
that such admission had been rendered " almost super-
naturally difficult " by the conduct of certain Noncon-
formists. On the question of subscription Mr. Raleigh
wrote : —
118 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
" I am glad that you do not object to the proposal to
abolish subscription to the Articles. After reading Canon
Stanley's recent letter I am more than ever convinced that
such a change is in the most profound degree necessary,
and also (I speak as an Englishman with sincere and
reverent interest in the English Church) that it will be
perfectly safe."
Coming to the question of reforming the Liturgy, lie
undertook to show that the Independent ground is more
liberal, both in the case of baptism and in the case of
burial, than the Church ground. After pointing out
that Mr. Kingsley's use of the term " Calvinistic " was
somewhat misleading, and that few Independents are in
point of fact Calvinists, he proceeds : —
" Your words are these — ' If I have a right to say that
every baptized child is a child of God, and that right is
taken from me, are my rights narrowed or expanded V
My answer is that, in so far as you found that right on
baptism, I think it is entirely imaginary and fallacious ; but
if, as I hope and almost believe, you found it ultimately
on the Fatherly character of God and on His gracious
dispensation to this world through Jesus Christ, then I
think it is a right 'to be fought for at all risks.' We
believe that the Father loves all the little children, that
the Saviour takes them all up into His arms, and that all
of them who die are saved, for happily ' none is able to
pluck tliem out of His hands.' . . . There can be no doubt
that multitudes believe that the outward rite is the vital
thing, that it is not merely a beautiful sign but a living
power, translating the child out of the kingdom of dark-
ness into the kingdom of God's dear Son. Now we com-
plain of this and protest against it. I hold that your
LONDON— HAEE COURT. 119
theory is narrower than ours, while in some of its practical
results it is cruel — as when parents mourn over the sweet
faces of the unbaptized dead, with the shadows of awful
fears deepening the shadow of death. ... In regard to
the burial of the dead, I confess that you seem to hold the
more liberal ground in contending for the retention of the
present form of your touching and beautiful Service. Here,
however, I hold that liberality should wait reverently on
truth. I do not forget that the Service contains only the
expression of a hope that the departed is in rest with
Christ. But in too many cases what foundation is there
for such a hope 1, If a man has never believed in Christ —
never even professed to believe in Him, nor lived according
to His laws ; if he has led an immoral and hurtful life,
what foundation is there in that man's character, what
reason in any of the moral and providential laws of God,
for the hope of his immediate entrance, by the mere act of
dying, into the 'rest which remaineth for the people of
God'?
" I hope you will not suppose that even in a case of
that kind I would contend for a ' liberty of cursing.' I
fail indeed to see in theory when and how, exactly, even
cursing ought to be stopped. It seems to me that true
liberty will and must, to a certain extent, tolerate even
intolerance. To hinder men by law from saying and
doing what is in them may be necessary, but it hardly
seems the fit work of a Christian Church. This, however,
by the way. I recoil, like yourself, with the most sensitive
aversion from the very thought of ' cursing ' over a fellow-
creature's grave. I would not utter a word which would
even seem to any sorrowing survivor like the shadow of a
curse over the finished life, however poor, broken, blotted,
it might be. Nay more, I would not allow myself to
think that I know the judgment that has been passed on
120 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
the departed. ' Judgment is mine,' saith the Lord, ' whose
tender mercies are over all His works.' All that I would
claim is the liberty of silence, that in such cases no hope
shall be expressed, and of course no curse pronounced. Is
not silence in such a case a duty as Avell 1 We have no
right to injure the living by our charity to the dead.
Simple persons, men of little thought, men of low endeavour,
are consoled and encouraged to continue in their ignoble
condition by the thought that all Avill be well with them
in the end. I have heard some of .the country people say,
'The parson will make it all right at last.' . . . While I
say all this I frankly acknowledge that there must be great
difficulty in making any alteration. . . . I am inclined to
think that it would be better — if that is the only alterna-
tive — to omit all j^ersonal reference than to compel
thousands of devout and conscientious men to exj^ress a
judgment which they do not hold, a hope which they do
not feel. . . . Let me thank you for the much pleasure of
the best kind I have had in reading many of your books,
and also for the only sermon I ever heard, you preach —
from the text, 'They heard the voice of the Lord God
Avalking in the garden in the cool of the day."
To this letter Mr. Kingsley promptly replied : —
"The views you express are in the main my own.
What you say about baptism is what I have long seen we
shall all come to. It is wider than the formulae of the
Church of England, and I have never made a secret that it
is the doctrine which I hold in contradistinction to the
Puseyite and Papist one, which I regard with astonish-
ment."
]\Ir. Kingsley then explained that he opposed the
alteration of the Liturgy, because he knew that, if any
LONDON— HARE COURT. 121
change were made, it would probably be a change in
the wrong direction. Of the burial service he says that
in his own twenty-one years' experience, with fifty years
of his father's ministerial experience to consult, he
had never known a case in which a single conscience
was burdened by that service.
" Xeither have I found among the poor the notion that
the parson m the burial service Avould ' make all right.' The
notion that the parson will make all right by reading and
praying a little with the dying man is too common, but it
is common to every creed and denomination ; you must
find it too often in your own experience. It is bred in
the fallen nature of man, and no alteration of formula, no
purity of doctrine, will ever prevent miserable sinners
believing that their minister can, by some mumbling
of formulae, or making them mumble formulae, deliver
them from the just reward of their deeds. If you can
cure men of that you shall be Archbishop of Canterbury if
I can make you."
Some further correspondence passed between Mr.
Kingsley and Mr. Ealeigh ; but the above extracts will
give a sufficiently clear notion of the points on which,
with much sympathy and mutual respect, they agreed to
differ. In Mr. Kingsley's last letter he utterly re-
pudiates the title of Broad Churchman : —
" I am an Evangelical. I can't see how any one,
believing his Bible, can be anything else. But I revolted
from their narrowness, and cruel judgments, and contra-
diction of plain facts, and sad ignorance. ... I then, at
ordination, threw myself into Newman's party, into which
all the young men of scholarship, life, and power, Avere
122 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
rushing. I soon found that that meant, honestly, Rome,
and to that place I would not go. Anything might be
true, but Rome was the Lie. Then I turned, and ever
since have been hewing out for myself painfully, in fear
and trembling, a standing-place which shall reach down to
the Rock of Ages. Whether I have got down to it or not
I shall know at the last day."
At the close of the letter Mr. Kingsley expresses
warm admiration for the first English Independents,
" the assertors of English liberty, who fought side by
side with my ancestors at Marston Moor," and his
pleasure at finding so much truth and liberality among
their descendants.
In February 1865 Mr. Raleigh received from the
University of Glasgow the degree of Doctor of Divinity.
To the Rev. R. Balgarnie, 4th April 1865.
(On the opening of the Bar Church, Scarborough.)
London.
'• . . . I can sympathise with you most keenly in the
felt need of soul nourishment and heart-quiet. The con-
tinued clang of outside work is sometimes distressing, and
one longs for the wings of a dove to fly away and be at
rest ; or, better still, for the ' desert place ' to rest awhile
with Christ, and to return to work with more of His
strength.
" As soon as you know your opening day secure your
men. By all means get Norman M'Leod, if you can. I
met him in Glasgow when I was dubbed D.D. I had a
long talk with him, and felt quite to love him. Jones is a
glorious fellow. . . . As for thy servant, he will fulfil his
promise and give out a liymn on the day, if he can be in
LONDON— HARE COURT. 123
those parts. Seriously, I don't want any place near the
front. . . . My wife and children are all ' famous.' You
know the Northern signification ; I think it is better than
the Southern one. To use another Scotticism, they are
'fine'! . . ."
The accompanying letter refers to the controversy
on the Sabbath question which arose in Scotland, when
the Edinburgh and Glasgow Eailway Company first
proposed to run trains on Sunday.
To Miss , 2 2d December 1865.
Arran House, London.
" I write a line to thank you for the newspaper and for
Dr. M'Leod's speech. ... I had seen distorted fragments
of it, which I felt quite sure had passed through the hands
of the father of lies before being presented to the public.
I have been with him in spirit, although I hardly think I
shall accept his arguments or his views in the forms in
which he presents them. His idea of complete abrogation
cannot, I think, be maintained. It is not like God's pro-
cedure in other things to make a sharp severance and a
wide gulf. The idea of development is the true one, the one
which best agrees with, and will most firmly secure, the
expansion and liberty which belong to the Lord's day.
" But how happy one is to be out of such a strife, and
under no obligation to ' bear a testimony,' or lift up one's
voice like a trumpet ! When so many trumpets are sound-
ing, it is a great blessing to have the liberty of silence.
Especially when if one spoke at all it would be in repre-
hension of so much that has been said and done. Perhaps,
indeed, it might give a new turn to the battle, if some one
Avould stand up and, in genial good temper, yet heartily.
124 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
expose and denounce all parties in the strife, or rather the
actuating spirit of each party — the greedy recklessness of
the railway companies, the irreverence of the scribes, the
.unchristian intolerance of the presbyteries, the abjectness
of the congregations, and the half-conscious hypocrisy of
society. Any one doing that, unless he were sheathed in
some kind of supernatural defence, would be stung to death.
" So far as I have read Dr. M'Leod's real utterances,
his spirit is the one clear good thing in the controversy. . . .
a spirit manly and fearless, and yet gentle and charitable.
I pray that he may not lose it. . . ."•
CHAPTEE XL
AMERICA— CHAIRMANSHIP OF THE UNION.
" I love to draw
Even here on earth, on towards the future law,
And heaven's fine etiquette ; when Who ? and Whence ?
May not be asked ; and at the wedding-feast
North shall sit down with South and West with East."
BURRIDGE.
In May 1865 Dr. Vauglian (formerly Principal of
Lancashire College), Dr. Ealeigb, and Dr. George
Smith, were chosen to represent the Congregational
Union of England and Wales at the National Council
of American Congregational Churches, appointed to be
held at Boston in June. On the 27th May the delegates
sailed from Liverpool in the Africa} To Dr. Ealeigh
the voyage was notable as the longest he had ever under-
taken. The weather was wintry and unpleasant. He
writes : " All my fine fancies about summer weather and
glittering seas and the lazy enjoyment of life on ship-
board have been put to rout. Anything more miserable
than some of the days and nights it would be difficult
to imagine. The ship pitching and rolling her vast
bulk through the stormy waves, catching seas sometimes
1 Dr. Smith went first to Canada. He was detained there, and did
not attend the Council.
126 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
that flooded the deck like a little lake. The raiu coming
in torrents, the air cold and bitter, the passengers grue-
some and resigned." In the brief gleams of sunshine, how-
ever, there were always flights of birds and schools of ^ • )
porpoises to watch, and the ship herself, with her crew
and her various crowd of passengers, was an inexhaustible
study. The ninth day out was a Sunday, and some of
the passengers would have liked to hear one of the
Doctors of Divinity ; but the ship was too unsteady to
permit of preaching. There was service in the cabin,
and then the passengers " came out to a grander service."
An iceberg was passing " with a strange gleaming white-
ness on it, most spiritual, with shadows dropping now
and then like the folds of a garment. It looked like one
of God's ships sailing out of eternity, carrying a message
some whither. All the company, including the sailors,
stood gazing in silence till it sailed past." Next day
they made Cape Eace, and in no long time were lying
in Halifax Harbour, not far from a fleet of small steamers,
sharp in build, neutral gray in colour, " gipsy -like and
wicked in appearance as ships could be," blockade-
runners, whose occupation was gone with the close of
the war.
** We left Halifax in a breeze," Dr. Ealeigh writes,
•* and sailed into a foaming sea. The pilot having guided
the vessel out ceased to have a function, and came quietly
among the passengers. He was an old man, weather-worn,
feeble, and, as I learned from the captain, suffering from
an incurable disease. For more than forty years he has
guided vessels safely amid the dangers of that coast. He
will need, very soon, a clearer eye and a better skill than
AMERICA— CHAIRMANSHIP OF THE UNION. 127
his own to guide him through the dangers of that voyage
which can be made by each person only once. In talking
with him, I found by degrees that he had engaged the
Pilot long ago ; and I think that old man, when the last
breezes begin to blow, will come as quietly down from the
watch - tower of his own life as now he does from the
mastery of our good ship, leaving the Captain to rule the
seas. I thought I could read in his face and in the calm,
far look of his eye, ' I know whom I have believed, and am
persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have com-
mitted to Him against that day.' "
The Africa held on her way in the midst of a dense
fog — "of all dismal tilings at sea the dismallest" —
happily without accident, till at last the fog lifted, and
Boston was almost in sight. To this stage of the
voyage belongs an incident which Dr. Ealeigh was
fond of relating : —
" While yet fifty miles from land, I scented the clover
growing in the fields of New England. Some of my fellow-
passengers were incredulous, because they could not smell it
— a very common way of reaching conclusions in matters
of infinitely greater importance — when all at once a highly
competent witness appeared in the box. She was, literally,
in a box at the side of the ship. This was the cow which
had given us milk all the way. She put her head out of
the box, and snuffed the gale with great enjoyment. And
in an hour more their own senses bore witness that she
and I were right."
On their arrival in Boston the delegates were con-
strained by a kind friend, the Hon. Mr. Toby, to leave
their hotel and make his house their home during their
128 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
stay. Under his hospitable guidance they mastered
some of the intricacies of the city — the only town he
ever visited in which Dr. Ealeigh was quite unable
to find his way — attended the "Commencement" at
Harvard, and enjoyed a brief interview with the poet
Longfellow.
When the Council assembled on the 14th June it
soon became evident that the task of the English dele-
gates would be peculiarly difficult. It was certain that
some expression would be given to the bitter resent-
ment which had been roused in the Northern States by
the scrupulous neutrality of England during the Civil
War, by the free criticisms of ISTorthem men and
measures which had appeared in the English press, and
by the eagerness of a large section of our politicians to
treat the presentation of the Alahama claims as a casus
helli. Any demonstration of hostility was sure to take
the form of a personal attack on Dr. Vaughan. Though
perfectly sound on the slavery question. Dr. Vaughan
had doubted the wisdom and the possibility of saving
the Union ; and the British Quarterly Review, of which he
was then editor, had been unsparing in its examination
of the professions and motives of Northern statesmen.
The unexpectedly complete collaj^se of the slave power
convinced him that the event of the war had been pre-
pared by a higher wisdom than his own. With his
usual candour, he at once made full acknowledgment
of his change of mind ; but it was too late to undo the
effect which the British Quarterly articles had produced.
When the American newspapers announced that Dr.
AMERICA— CHAIRMANSHIP OF THE UNION. 129
Vaughan was chosen as a delegate to Boston, some were
ready to exclaim that the choice was an intentional in-
sult. The editor of a Presbyterian journal published a
careful selection of extracts from the British Quarterly,
and copies of the reprint were laid on the table of the
Council, and distributed among the members.
On the 15th June the delegates were received. Dr.
Vaughan spoke at length, and was heard with respectful
attention. Dr. Ealeigh followed with a brief speech, in
which he ventured to dwell lightly, with an occasional
touch of humour, on some of the difficulties of the
situation. He proposed that they should deal with
the subject of dispute as the Scottish minister dealt
with an obscure passage at which he arrived in the
course of his exposition. " This," he said, " is a much
controverted text. No two commentators appear to
agree in their interpretation of it. My brethren, let tcs
look this diJicuUy holdly in the face — and pass on!'
The air was somewhat cleared by these two speeches,
but there was still a storm on the horizon. When the
formal reply to the Union address was brought up for
approval, a member, whose name need not be recorded,
rose and launched into unmeasured denunciation of
England and the English delegates. But the violence
of his invective disgusted the majority of the Council,
and disposed them to listen to the generous appeal
made by Dr. Thompson of New York on behalf of the
English brethren. After Dr. Thompson, Dr. Vaughan
spoke for himself, and then Mr. Beecher decided the
event of the day by a magnificent speech, full of common
K
130 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
sense and brotherly love. Boldly taking on himself
authority to speak for the Council, the orator of Ameri-
can Independency held out a hand to each of the Eng-
lish delegates in token of complete mutual understanding.
The Americans are not a demonstrative peojole ; but the
greatness of the occasion broke down the reserve of the
Council. Only once or twice in his long experience of
public meetings had Dr. Yaughan beheld such a display
of feeling.
Dr. Ealeigh's personal influence had done much to
bring about this happy issue out of tlie dangers which
had threatened the English mission. Through the
whole war he had been in full sympathy with the
North. He had always held that the cause of the
Union was also the cause of humanity and right. His
reception was therefore assured ; and he took every
advantage of the confidence which his name inspired to
remove misunderstandings, and to lead his American
friends to take a calmer view of the workings of English
opinion. He was especially careful to avoid making
any distinction between his own position and that of his
friend. They stood together with the most loyal confi-
dence in each other ; and when the " sharp corner of
Providence had been handsomely turned," Dr. Vaughan
was the first to say to Dr. Ealeigh, " But for you, our
mission would have been a failure."
Before separating, the Council spent a day in visit-
ing New Plymouth, the landing-place of the Pilgrim
Fathers. After viewing the famous rock — which, to the
disappointment of some, turned out to be a stone of no
AMERICA— CHAIRMANSHIP OF THE UNION. 131
great size — a meeting was held in an orchard near the
burying-ground of the Fathers. A paper had been pre-
pared, setting forth the chief points of Puritan doctrine ;
and this document was solemnly ratified and adopted by
the 1100 persons present. The speeches delivered were
few ; but special care was taken to keep a place for the
English delegates. Another open-air meeting of Council
was held on Bunker Hill, on the anniversary of the
battle. But of this celebration Dr. Ealeigh writes : " I
did not go ; I did not feel as if I could enjoy it."
On leaving Boston the delegates went on to New
York, by way of Newport. Dr. Ealeigh preached in
Mr. Beecher's chapel at Brooklyn, and an immense con-
gregation came to hear the Englishman who had stood
their friend in the war. From JSTew York they went on
to Washington. They had hoped to see something of
the South, and to visit the great battlefields of the war ;
but the intense heat and the still unsettled state of the
country compelled them to limit the scope of their
journey. In Washington the thermometer stood at 86°
in the shade ; but they could not turn northward again
without having seen the work in progress among the
freed negroes. Under the guidance of General Howard
— "the Havelock of the Federal army" — they visited
the Freedmen's Training Farm, established on the estate
which had once belonged to General Lee, and the schools
in which New England ladies were engaged in teaching
black children to read. One of the children was put up
to display its elocution, but the passage chosen for the
purpose was a philippic against England from some
132 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
orator of American independence. General Howard
with a smile stopped the reading. Dr. Vaughan and
Dr. Ealeigh were both inclined to approve the principles
on which the Government was proceeding in its treat-
ment of the freedmen. They had hoped to offer some
expression of their sympathy to the President ; but he
was ill, and coid.d not receive them. Dr. Ealeigh ex-
plained by letter the objects of their mission ; and Mr.
Johnson sent a very kind reply. From other members
of the Government they received many kindnesses. By
special favour they were permitted to visit Ford's
Theatre, which had been closed to the public since the
night of President Lincoln's murder.
The first Sunday after their departure from Washing-
ton was spent at Wheeling, Ohio. This was the only
silent /Sunday of Dr. Ealeigh's American visit, and he
enjoyed the rest. In the afternoon of that day he
wrote to his wife : —
Wheeling, Ohio, \st July 1865. — " We worshipijcd in the
Presbyterian Chapel here this morning. Good and re-
freshing. But — let this be a secret — / have seen nothing
like Hare Court ; not even Beecher's. Truly the lines have
fallen unto us in pleasant places."
It was too hot to think of the Mississippi Valley,
and from Ohio the travellers turned northward by way
of Cleveland to Buffalo, where they embarked on Lake
Erie. Three quiet days were given to Niagara, and
then more work awaited them at Toronto, where Dr.
Ealeigh preached twice, and baptized a young British
subject by the name of " Henry Allon," in affectionate
AMERICA— CHAIRMANSHIP OF THE UNION. 133
remembrance of Union Cliapel, where its parents liad
been members. . At Toronto, and throughout their
Canadian journey, they were struck by tlie number of
tourists from the States. Dr. Ealeigh wrote : "All the
Yankees that ever were born seem to be travelling, now
that the war is over ; and they take with them all the
trunks and boxes that ever were made." This passage
was penned with some feeling, for the St. Lawrence
steamer was so crowded that he had to lie down for
the night on a bare board, and was consec[uently too
sleepy the next day to appreciate fully the beauty of
the Thousand Islands.
At Montreal, and again at Quebec, they had an
opportunity of observing the difficulties of religious
work, where Protestants and Eoman Catholics are both
active and well organised. Dr. Wilkes, who had repre-
sented the Canadian Churches at the Boston Council,
was their host at Montreal. He writes of their visit to
that city : —
" [Dr. Vaughan and Dr. Raleigh] came to us down the
St. Lawrence after running the rapids. I met them at the
wharf. Dr. Raleigh was the right hand of the venerable
man with whom he journeyed, who had reached his seventy-
first year. It was a beautiful picture in Christian life
which was presented by the two men. They both preached
for me — Dr. Vaughan in the forenoon. I remember well
Dr. Raleigh's remark after the morning service : ' I cannot
preach after that. I must not spoil the effect of such a ser-
mon.' He did preach in the evening an exquisitely beauti-
ful sermon, fitted to stimulate and encourage, as well as to
guide, the Christian in running the race set before him.
134 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
" I drove them along the principal streets of our city,
and other friends took them drives in the neighbourhood.
"We were greatly amused by the respectful recognition
accorded to Dr. Vaughan by the members of the Roman
Catholic priesthood who occasionally met us. The hat he
wore, his clean-shaven face, his black cravat, and his
general aspect led them to mistake him for a foreign
ecclesiastic of their own Church. He was surprised by the
numerous bows he received from these gentlemen, who in
this part of Canada wear the soutane in the streets. "When
the explanation was given, he and Dr. Raleigh enjoyed a
hearty laugh."
It is not necessary to dwell on the rapid return
journey through the States. The voyage home, in the
Persia, was as smooth as the outward voyage had been
rough. Among the passengers it was pleasant to en-
counter a deputation of Spanish planters from Cuba,
proceeding to the Court of Queen Isabella to make
arrangements for the gradual abolition of slavery in
tliat island. The old senor who led the deputation
wrote a complimentary poem in honour of the Persia,
her captain and passengers, which Dr. Vaughan, with
some assistance from his colleague, turned into English
rhymes. It was a pleasant journey, and it was pleasanter
still to 1)0 at home again. Dr. Raleigh joined his wife
and children at Starley Burn in Fifeshire, wdiere they
had spent the summer. " I received," he said, " in
fresh gift from God all I had left, with a thankfulness
which only the power of absence could evoke." A few
weeks of rest, a short breathing time after his wanderings,
and he was once more ready and eager to be at work.
AMERICA— CHAIRMANSHIP OF THE UNION. 135
The members of the delegation to America were
expected to give an account of their journey at the
autumn meeting of the Congregational Union, which
was to be held at Bristol. A special evening meeting-
was held for the purpose at Castle Green Chapel, on the
25th October — Mr. Henry Wright in the chair. Dr.
Ealeigh, who was to speak first, had given much thought
to the preparation of his address, and he was profoundly
stirred and excited as the time drew near to deliver it.
The state of feeling between England and America was
still critical, and he wished to put forth all his strength
on the side of peace and goodwill. He began by re-
mindino- his hearers that the roots of American life and
society lie more than two centuries deep in the history
of English Puritanism. He described the dangers and
anxieties of the persecuted Church of Brewster and
Bradford. He told of their first attempt to find safety
in exile, of the treachery which delivered them over to
King James's officers, and of the indomitable spirit
with which they renewed the attempt, until the rem-
nant of them escaped to Holland. But " they made as
though they would go farther." The Atlantic voyage is
planned, and at last " the little ship is bought — who
knows not her name? — the world-famed Mayflower,
more famous, perhaps, than any ship that ever ploughed
the seas, except the fishing-boats of Galilee that bore
the Saviour of the world." It was the Mayflower that
made New England ; and the conflict which had just
come to a close had been a conflict between New Eng-
land Puritanism and the wickedness of slavery.
136 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
" The great recent struggle was just this in its princijile.
Shall the ' good foundation,' as they called it, which the
forefathers laid for civil order and for religious life and
liberty, be preserved and extended under such modifications
as circumstances might require ; or shall we yield to the
encroachments, and permit the so-called independence, but
virtual supremacy, of the blackest tyranny and wickedness
that has ever reared its head among mankind 1 The
answer from the St. Lawrence to the Potomac, and from
the Atlantic to the Pacific, was, ' No ! we cannot permit
this ; we can fight, we can die.' And die they did on
every field of battle — the very flower and chivalry, the
culture and virtue of New England — her noblest sons
going thus willingly to death, and her daughters weeping
for the slain, but never grudging the sacrifice. I believe
the answer they gave was right, and that the sacrifice by
which they have sealed it has been accepted by the God of
Nations. ... I never had a doubt, but now I am more
than sure that slavery was the cause of the whole war. It
was to preserve that, it was to extend that, that the South
drew the sAvord. They had no grievance, no shadow of
excuse, besides. The offence was that civilisation was
lighting her lamps too near them ; that Christianity, with
its Ten Commandments, and its spirit of impartial and
universal love, Avould not sanction their ' peculiar institu-
tion,' would not become a ' lying spirit,' and connive ait
their rank injustice and cruelty ; and if I cannot in con-
science say that it was expressly to uproot and destroy
slavery that the North so vigorously resisted, I can say
this, as it was expressed to me by an honourable citizen of
Boston, that they felt slavery beneath the whole conflict,
and that they struck at the vile sj^stem as soon as consti-
tutional honour Avould allow them to do so. While the
constitution existed, legal rights j^revented the North from
AMEEICA— CHAIRMANSHIP OF THE UNION. 137
making any direct attack on slavery ; but as soon as they
saw the fair chance of striking it down, they did not pity ;
they did not withhold the blow — it came with crushing
force. And, as the vile system — wounded, bleeding, stag-
gering blindly on through its last dishonoured days, without
one penitential tear or pang as long as it lived, holding its
blood-stained whips and muttering its sullen curses to the
last — fell to rise no more, the darkest and most gigantic
criminal the world had ever seen, there was a sigh of
relief from sea to sea through those vast Northern States,
and from many lips came the thankful exclamation, ' Thank
God, it is gone ! ' "
Touching on the division of English opinion in
regard to the war, Dr. Ealeigh took occasion to approve
the wisdom of the choice which included Dr. Vaughan
and himself in the same " mission of fraternity."
" It was well that we went. A deputation differently
constituted might have been more welcome, might have
escaped the little breezes that blew upon us ; but, after
all, that would have been a one-sided deputation. It
would have pleased them better, but it would have repre-
sented us less faithfully,"
After speaking of the Council meetings, and acknow-
ledging the friendly aid of Dr. Thompson, Dr. Bacon,
and Mr. Beeclier, he went on to speak of the memorable
day at New Plymouth : —
" The day at Plymouth was a day never to be forgotten.
To see the shores that first saw the Mayflower ; to gaze on
the little island — Clark's Island — on which the Pilgrim
Fathers first landed, and rested the Sabbath-day according
to the Commandment ; where the voice of psalms first
138 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
broke tlio silence, witli prayers, and propliesyings, and
preachings of the Gospel ; to stand on the rock where next
day they landed, on a cold and sleety day, the shortest in
the year, and took possession in the name of the Lord ; to
sec some of the first buildings that were reared, expressive
in their very form of the simplicity and strength of the
men who reared them ; to see the Pilgrims' meeting-house
on the hill — a strong little building Avith a flat roof, where
Miles Standish stood by the cannon while the Pilgrims
worshipped below ; to stand among the graves of the fore-
fathers on Burying Hill, to join in solemn prayer with their
sons and successors, and to hold up the hand on that
hill-top, in the light of that summer day, in solemn attes-
tation of the faith for which they lived and died — all this
one holds in life-long memory as a precious secret ; but
/ can never describe it. I can see at this moment the gleams
of light on the sea and the soft clouds sailing on overhead.
I can hear the whisper of the breeze among the pines, and
feel its balmy touch on my cheek. I can see the bending
of the grass above the graves — many of them without
epitaph — on that hill-top ; and I can see that reverent
assembly of men and women, old men and children, who
found it that day to be a hill of life, the mountain of the
Lord's house established on the top of the mountains and
exalted above the hills."
Among other illustrations of the place which Puritan
Independency still occupies in the United States, Dr.
Ealeigh gave the following : —
" I stood one day on a hill-top near Northampton,
commanding a vast and various view — one of the finest of
the kind in the whole world. We had crept up slowly
through the leafy woods, and all at once we emerged from
the umbrage and stood upon the hill-top. There came to
AMERICA— CHAIRMANSHIP OF THE UNION. 139
my lipl^in a moment some lines of Thomson's Seasons,
which had been in my memory since boyhood : —
' Heavens ! what a goodly prospect spreads around
Of liills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires,
And glittering towns and gilded streams — till all
The stretching landscape into smoke decays.'
■ " Thirty church spires are visible from that hill-top —
every one of them the spire of a parish church — every
church Independent. Is not that like the land of Goshen,
think you ? I have never for myself been able to hold the
Divine right of Independency to the exclusion of other
systems, although I am just as sound an Independent as
many a man who does ; but I frankly confess that since
that day I have been a little more of an Independent than
I ever was before. I was proud of and thankful for what
our free principles can do in Church and State when they
have a clear stage and no favour."
Passing again from Church matters to politics, Dr.
Ealeigh bore strong testimony to the "law-abiding,
peace-loving character of the American people." No-
where had he seen " a state of society on the whole so
good. Their best may not be equal to our best, but
their common is better than ours, and their worst less
ominous than our worst." The admirable conduct of the
disbanded Federal soldiers was a strong proof of the
American love of peace and order.
" I saw the poor fellows returning by the ten thousand
to their homes. I saw them in every part of the country,
north and west — worn, wearied, many of them wounded.
They were all glad to get back to peaceful pursuits and to
their homes. I found that in returning to their native
town or village they did not care about entering it in the
140 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
soldier's uniform. They preferred to doff the military blue,
and to return in the citizen's dress in which they left.
" Such a people must command the sympathy of
England in fidlest measure. They look to England to
encourage them in their great task — the reconciliation of
the conquered South, and the education of the freed
negroes.
" I saw the ladies of New England teaching in the
hlack schools of Virginia ; I saw Christian soldiers busy in
the Master's Avork. I daresay tliey will blunder sometimes,
soldiers and civilians alike. They will pause and be at
fault. I only hope that they will have our sympathy and
not our carping criticism. We are throwing upon them
continually our surplus population — a good deal of the least
manageable and least reputable portions of it — our poverty,
our discontent, and crime, as well as some of our energy and
virtue. They have a right to our most brotherly confidence
and help as they try to educate these various peoples for
this world and for the next, as they spread them abroad
over their virgin soil and teach them to make homes in the
wilds, as they stretch over them all the broad shield of
their common law and breathe about them the airs of
freedom, which carried the Mai/flotcer to their shores, and
have been blowing as they listed ever since. ... I have
tried to speak and act everywhere with a view to an end
for which more than for almost anything else just now
statesmen should strive, and journalists should write, and
ministers should preach, and even merchants should buy
and sell — a cordial understanding — nay, more, a loyal loving
league of inseparable friendship between England and
America."
In the descriptive article which accompanies the
report from which these passages are extracted, it is
AMERICA— CHAIRMANSHIP OF THE UNION. 141
recorded that the meeting was roused by Dr. Ealeigh's
speech "to au enthusiasm rarely equalled." He felt
himself that his object was attained ; he had done what
he could to draw closer the bonds of friendship between
the two great English-speaking nations of the world.
Dr. Smith followed with an account of his Canadian
journey. Dr. Vaughan's speech was worthy of the
occasion and of the man. So profound was the impres-
sion produced by the words of the " old man eloquent "
that when he came forward to speak at another meeting
the next day, the whole audience started to their feet
and cheered him again and again.
In May 1868 Dr. Ealeigh presided as chairman at
the meeting of the Congregational Union of England
and Wales, and delivered an address on " Christianity and
Modern Progress." His object was to show that revealed
religion, resting on a firm basis of fact, embodying the
highest expression of law, and providing the fullest
exercise for man's higher energies and aspirations, has
nothing to fear and everything to hope from the advance
of science and the spread of liberty. In the course of
his argument he was naturally led to speak of the place
assigned to the Bible by science and religion respectively.
" In itself," he said, " the case is simple. It is not, e.g.
(to mention but one misleading form into which the ques-
tion between science and religion is often put), that we come
before the world with a book — a Bible, which is the binding
together of more than sixty little books, tractates, letters,
written at sundry times, in different countries, in successive
ages of the world, claiming for the book, just as we have
142 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
it now, divine infallibility in every letter and line. AYe
need not wonder — wo may rejoice that such a pretension
is decisively rejected by thinking men, as a pretension which
c(m in fact only be justified by the co-ordinate supposition
of a constantly inspired and infallible authority somewhere
in the Church. No. It is just as certain that there are
errors and mistakes in the Bible — considered as a human
book — as it is certain that fallible men wrote the several
parts of it, distinguished and selected them, one by one,
from other contemporary MTitings, copied them from manu-
scripts, translated them from one language into another.
But here is our case. That out of this book, as history,
and out of other histories, contemporary and subsequent,
there rise up to our view, first dimly in type and shadow,
then clearly in personal life, the great facts which stand at
the centre of Christianity — the birth, the labours, the mir-
acles, the sufferings, the death, the resurrection of Jesus of
Nazareth. These, by emphasis, are our facts. These
proved, we consider that, substantially, all is proved. These
disproved, all is lost."
This statement of the case, and the use of the phrase
" errors and mistakes," as applied to the Bible, gave rise
to considerable controversy. Dr. Lindsay Alexander
took objection to the doctrine of the address ; various
newspapers, religious and secular, took part in the dis-
cussion, and Dr. Ealeigh was compelled to justify and
explain liis words. In doing so he wrote : —
" I accept the whole Bible, as we have it, as the Book
of God. Further, I regard the inspiration of the Scriptures,
although I cannot define it — and do not believe that any
one else can — as a thing different, not only in degree but
in kind, from the highest inspiration of human genius,
AMERICA— CHAIRMANSHIP OF THE UNION. 143
such as the Epics of Homer or the Paradise Lost of
Milton. . . .
" If I am asked whether I hold the close verbal theory
of inspiration and consequent immunity from any shadow
of error or mistake in the original Scriptures, if they could
be found, I answer distinctly I do not. That opinion can
only be a theory to those who hold it. I acknowledge it is-
a reverent theory, but it never can be of much practical
benefit. If God originally composed a book, giving the
writing, down to the last line and letter, that book has
been lost, not substantially, but in its original completeness,
and cannot now, without a new miracle, be found. . . .
" Then, too, it is to me undeniable that there are dis-
crepancies (which is but another name for mistakes) in the
Gospel narratives, which no skill can explain aAvay. Dr.
Alexander of Edinburgh, in his friendly controversy with me
in the newspapers, acknowledged that ' these discrepancies
are apparent and probably real.' He supposes that they were
intended by God to show the independence of the witnesses,
and the absence of collusion. Precisely ; although that is
a stronger way of putting it than I should adopt. The
meaning, however, is in the main correct. ... I acknow-
ledge with thankfulness that these things do not touch the
grand substance of the Book. The great facts and doc-
trines stand like the Alps to our sight, and our practical
certainty and faith are unshaken."
At the autumn meeting of the Union Dr. Ealeigh
gave, in connection with the disestablishment of the
Irish Church, some of his views on the general ques-
tion of Church Establishments. We quote a few para-
graphs from his address : —
"... We confess to an instantaneous sympathy with
144 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
good men, wliercver they stand ecclesiastically, whose
hearts ' tremble for the Ark of God,' or who have stirring
in them any rational, godly concern for their native country.
If it could be shown that serious harm is ever likely to
come to England by the disestablishment of the Church, I
am sure we should be the first to say * Hasten slowly.' We
are first Christians — then Englishmen — then Dissenters.
To be the first is to stand in that inexpressible state and
privilege of which no man on earth is worthy. To be the
second is the highest earthly distinction we can bear. To
be the third is little else than pain and grief to us. . . .
If it could be shown that disestablishment would lessen the
piety of the country, or impair the hope of its continuance
and increase in the generations to come, I question if there
is a religious dissenter in the land who would vote for the
measure."
After conceding that some disadvantages misht
follow at first from the change, he continues : —
"Would it not be a gain to the piety of the nation to
be relieved of the Parliamentary discussion of religious and
evangelical questions ? . . . This Parliamentary wrangling
over their settlement, Avhich proves to be no settlement at
all ; these repeated judicial decisions, which decide nothing
to the point — as devout Churchmen acknowledge and pain-
fully feel — do not make for the meet presentation of the
Saviour and His claims to the people, and for the glory of
the kingdom of God among men.
" Another advantage Avhich will probably accrue from
the expected severance will be unchallenged liberty and
necessity of speech, to clergymen and all Christian ministers
on every social and political C|uestion. . . . No subject is
proscribed to a Christian minister, or to Christian people.
AilEKICA— CHAIRMANSHIP OF. THE UNION. 145
We strive for the life of a nation. Great courage and
plainness of speech are needed ... to teach men to be
honest and true and pure and generous. And my- hope is,
that when we have a free Church in a free State, the action
of the Church and of her clergy and ministers will be far
more direct and effective than it is now.
" Again, the disestablishment of the English Church
would be a great step towards brotherly concert and agree-
ment among Christians in the practical work of evangelisa-
tion. ... I think it is unquestionable that the supremacy
of the State system has a tendency to engender division and
animate rivalries. . . . True indeed, the theory is that it
ought to prevent such things, dividing the land into parishes,
and gathering alike its most crowded cities and its farthest
solitudes under the motherly care of the one undivided
Church. Whatever may be the abstract worth of that
theory, whatever its historic value — and I am far from say-
ing it has not shed innumerable blessings into English life in
past ages — it has no application to the facts and needs of
to-day. The truth is, the Free Christian Churches of Eng-
land have arisen, and they claim their God-given right to
live and to do good as they have opportunity. But here
stands the old system, which professes still to cover the
whole ground, which does not welcome any such allies. I
do not blame the men so much as the system. The system
cannot bend — it cannot be brotherly. And therefore, for
the sake of all the latent brotherhood that is within it, for
the sake of the wider charity that is yearning for expression,
and for the sake of the dark multitudes, even of our own
land, who know not yet what the Gospel is, we welcome
the speedy advent of the time when the State shall cease
to grant peculiar privileges to one form of the Christian
religion, and set us all on a level before men, even as we
are all on a level before God,
146 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
" It is perhaps unreasonable to expect devout cliurclimen
yet to believe in, or indeed to understand and perceive
the manifold blessedness of their own accomplished liberty.
In that oue word * freedom ' lie great powers and gifts.
Streams of life and healing will come out of it. Those who
fear it now will thank God when it comes, and they will
say, as they gather about the gates of the old Church of
England, ' The Lord hath done great things for us, Avhereof
we are glad.'
" On the 18th of May 1843, a quarter of a century ago,
474 ministers of the Church of Scotland left it in order to
have unfettered liberty in spiritual things. They filed out
of St. Andrew's Church, Edinburgh — the grandest proces-
sion, in some respects, Scotland has ever seen — headed by
the great Chalmers and others ; and when, amid the
plaudits and tears of the great multitudes who crowded the
streets and hung in every window, they made their way to
Canonmills, the place chosen for their Free Assembly, the
first word in prayer was thanksgiving for ' enlargement ' —
the first words spoken in Council were, ' Now, we breathe
freely.' Whatever happens to the Church of England will
probably come quietly, without scenic effect ; but, if the
severance be complete, surely the grateful emotion will be
no less in the South than it was in the North. . . .
" We await the issues with, I trust, no selfish expec-
tations. I see no likelihood that even the liberated
Christianity of England will ever, in any large degree, take
the organised form of the Independent Church. The
Episcopal Church, in the ardour of its new-born liberty and
zeal, may possibly far outstrip us in the race, even when
the conditions of the friendly rivalry have ceased to be
what they now are, unequal and unfair. But we shall re-
joice in their pre-eminence, and feel that their success is
our own. Perish these miserable envyings and strifes,
AMEEICA— CHAIRMANSHIP OF THE UNION. 147
which are bred simply of ecclesiastical systems and denomi-
national rivalries ! "
In 1879 Dr. Ealeigli was again appointed Chairman
of the Union. In March 1880, during his last illness,
he resigned the office, on which he would have entered
in May,
CHAPTEE XII.
LETTERS OF COUNSEL AND CONSOLATION.
" Is ever a lament tegun
By any mourner under sun,
"Which, ere it endeth, suits but one ? "
E. B. Browning.
Dr. Ealeigh's interest was called forth in the summer
of 1866 by the illness and death of a young friend in
Scotland. A selection from his letters to her sisters and
herself, with some others kindred in tone and subject,
is inserted here, in the hope that they may give com-
fort to some who have to pass through similar experi-
ences.
To Miss A , 9th July 1866.
Southwold.
" My dear a , I am glad to hear that you have been
strong enough to travel to , and very sorry to hear
that you are yet so much, of an invalid. I fear you will
not have much enjoyment of the beautiful scenery, at least
for a while. The view, I remember, from the top of the
hill is very wide and grand — commanding within the
circle not a little of the wealth and beauty of England,
May you see it and enjoy it before you leave. Meantime,
dear A , may God give you the still richer and fairer pros-
LETTERS OF COUNSEL AND CONSOLATION. 149
pects which faith beholds — especially the sight of His own
fulness and love in Christ Jesus. Your trouble has been so
severe, and has continued so long, that I am sure you pecu-
liarly need in it that consolation which can come only from
God. I pray daily that He may give you that ' strong con-
solation ' which has been promised to us all, when we ' flee
for refuge to the hope set before us in the Gospel.' And
oh, how good is it that we have not far to flee, ' The word
is nigh.' It is but a penitential thought — an unfeigned
confession of our sinfulness — and we are beside the cleans-
ing fountain, or in it. It is but a ' look,' and we shall be
' lightened.' Or even less than this ; for when I read
some of the Psalms, I find that David sometimes had
nothing but groans and tears wherewith to seek and serve
God, and God delivered him and set his feet on the Rock.
May He deliver you also — from fear and sin and unbelief,
and, if it be His will, heal you of your sickness too. What
a precious fruit of the illness it will be to you, if by its
means you reach that state of mind which leaves every-
thing — friends and fortune, health and sickness, life and
death — to God ! That would be beautiful. It would
make you a greater conqueror than the most successful
general. And if you live and grow well again, that state
of mind would remain Avith you as a life-property. ' Thy
will be done on earth as it is in heaven.' ' Not my will
but Thine be done.' So the Master teaches us to pray.
So the Saviour brings us unto God.
" Now I have written enough at one time. Your sister
will read these lines to you when you can hear them.
They very poorly express the interest I have in your well-
being, and far more poorly do they express the rich, free
grace of God. But my hope is that He will make that
known to you in His own gracious ways, and through all
this trouble will lead you into His own rest."
150 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
To Miss , ISth July 1866.
Southwold.
" I am very sorry you have no better tidings of dear
A . I wish so much that I could help you and her.
But what can I do, and this I do constantly, but pray to
the great Helper ? I am sure He will not fail you, and the
old promise of His * very present help ' will surely now be
fulfilled in your trouble. I daresay in some dark moments
it will seem to be all trouble and sorrow, with no felt con-
solation. But God's mercy is always infinitely beyond
our thoughts and needs, and alwaj's much nearer than we
know. . . . Will you let me say that I incline strongly
to think that you ought to make your sister aware of her
danger. I think you are wrong in supposing that the in-
telligence would certainly or even probably have any dis-
tressing or injurious effects. On the contrary, I think it
may possibly help her through some internal conflicts into
a more peaceful condition of mind. I am much mistaken
if some shadows of the truth have not often crossed her
mind already. But, in any case, I cannot help thinking
that she ought to know her own condition. The truth,
even when it is so sad, will work safely — will probably be
a very means of grace. You know that I would be the last
to attempt to force on any particular state of mind, and
you know how much I trust in God's illimitable mercy,
and how hopefully I look to the future life ; but still I
come back to this — that we ought not to hide from our-
selves and those dearest to us the knowledge of His way,
although it may be dark and bitter for a little while. . . .
" If this is her call from the great Father to come home-
wards, she ought to be thinking of it sometimes as such.
In a little while thinking may be more of a toil to her. I
pray God to direct you in this and in all things. . . .
LETTEES OF COUNSEL AND CONSOLATION. 151
" I feel how difficult it is to write. I quite hope to see
you soon. Even if I cannot help dear A much, or at
all (and there are some minds which God keeps peculiarly
in His own hands), it will be a pleasure to me to talk
with you, and hear what you have suffered and what you
fear. . . ."
To Miss A , 29th July 1866.
Soidhivold.
" My very dear A , I am so glad I have seen you,
because now I know what your life is from day to day —
how weary you are sometimes, and how much you have to
suffer — and -therefore I can the more easily sympathise
with you, and help you, if it should be but a little, in
bearing your burden. All your friends think of you far
more now, in your illness, than they would if you were
well. You have their tenderest thoughts, and their best.
They would be like the angels to you if they could ; they
would ' bear you up in their hands,' and lift you above all
pain and harm. But, indeed, this reminds me that if we
could have all our way concerning one another we should
soon do each other sad harm mthout meaning it. We
should put away some of the very things Avhich the loving
God chooses and brings as His selectest and best things
for bringing His children to Himself. What are all the
loves of men, compared with the infinite tenderness and
pity of God ? And yet this God — who pitieth them that
fear Him, like as a father pitieth His children, and is gentler
and softer than a mother in His ways ; who, in His essential
nature, is love — sends suffering all through the world, and
sometimes a great deal of it to particular persons. Then,
I think — I am sui-e — that there are great and blessed ends
to be attained by it. And not to the suffering person
alone, but to others also. We give and take continually ;
152 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
and if, as I said, 3'our friends give you their best thoughts
of their best moments, they get from you in return almost
more than they give. By your suffering you give them
increase of sympathj^ — many tender and Godlike thoughts ;
and you help them to feel the need of the great presence
as they would not otherwise do. And, my dear A , will
you let me say that you can make this gift less or more
according to your own spirit and state. By striving after
patience, by faith in Christ the great sufferer, whose cross
sanctifies the crosses of all His people, by a ' dear child's '
submission to the good Father's Avill, you may make this
trouble a fountain, not of sorrow alone, but also of many
glad and gracious things. For myself, if I could just see
you beginning to have the unspeakable comfort of the
Christian rest — rest in God through Christ Jesus, it would
make me happier than all the bright, shallow things in the
world could do, and so you would be my benefactor.
" But that is nothing. For Christ's own sake, and for
yours, dear A , whom ' He is calling by name and leading
out,' although, haply, the day being dark, you do not yet
see His form very clearly — I wish and pray that you may
soon consciously know something of the 'peace which
passeth all understanding.'
"And now I have wi-itten enough, almost too much for
you to read at one time. A is delighted with the pretty
little things you sent her. She goes chattering about them
through the house, now and again mentioning your name
as the donor. — Believe me, ever affectionately yours,
'' Alexander Kaleigh."
To Miss , 4th August 18C6. . *
Southwold.
"... I hope A is nearer rest than once. ' The
husbandman Avaiteth for the i^recious fruit of the earth,
LETTEKS OF COUNSEL AND CONSOLATION. 153
and hath long patience for it.' I hope you will not weary
'waiting,' and hoping and trying gently. I can but
encourage you and myself too, by looking to the great
certainties of grace. God is merciful. The love of Christ
Vpasseth knowledge.' He is ' able to save to the uttermost.'
* He will not break the bruised reed.' He will ' in nowise
cast out.' How well we know all this, but how much we
need to know it better ! " . . ,
To Miss A , -5 th August 1866.
Southit'Old.
" I am sorry to hear that you are no better, and that you
have still so much to suffer. . . . But, dear A , it is your
portion measured out by Him who knows all, and who
loves you infinitely more than those who are nearest you,
and who love you most. * Whom the Lord loveth He
chasteneth, and scourgeth every son (or daughter) whom
He receiveth.' This is your ' reception,' if you will only
consent to be received. "When men receive each other they
do it Avith smiles ; they prepare flowers and music, and all
manner of delights. When God ' receives ' his children
into closer and dearer fellowship, they are brought some-
times into the blessed state through floods and flames.
Not always ; for God has many ways. But very very
often I have seen it so. Many a time I have seen the fur-
nace heated seven times, and its searching fires burning to
the quick, until the suffering spirit has thought that every-
thing precious was being burnt up — patience, faith, good-
ness, all gone — and yet I have heard that spirit, in a little
while, sing of mercy, and say, 'He hath done all things
well.' No afiliction, for the present, ' seemeth to be
joyous,' how can it ? It would be mere pretence to say
that we like it. ' Nevertheless afterwards it yieldeth the
peaceable fruits of righteousness.' ...
154 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
" Don't be discouraged if sometimes you feel as though
none of those fruits of righteousness were growing in you
at all. I daresay sometimes you will see nothing in your-
self but the dark fruits of unbelief and impatience. It is
imjiossible to have so much bodily Aveakness and trouble as
you have without depressing and irritating effects on the
spirit. Our God is not on the watch to catch us in our
weakness and rebellion. 'He knoweth our frame. He
remembereth that we are dust.' Yes, if it is only and
literally fear — if to our own consciousness there be neither
faith nor love, or so little of them as hardly to be felt —
His fatherly pity still remains, '///s mercy, endurefh for ever.'
" But oh, my dear A , you will surely rely on that
mercy. In your calmer times, when comparatively free
from pain, you ' will arise and go to your Father ' — you
will try to commit all to Him, body and spirit, time and
eternity. ' Looking unto Jesus,' who loved us, and died
and rose again for us, and ever liveth to make intercession
for us, you will come to God, to the Father through the
Son, reconciled and believing. If you do this fully and
Avithout reserve, ' casting all your care on Him who careth
for you,' I think you will feel a great difference in your own
mind. You will begin to enter into ' rest.' But I should
not like to promise and hold out this as a certainty — that
there shall be a conscious peace and blessedness given you,
equal to the strength of your faith. God only knows.
And there are great differences in this respect between one
and another. I do not know how to be thankful enough
that there may be a real, and even a strong faith loitliout
much comfort. "With some the ' billows and waves ' roll
on to the last. The storms of time seem to chase them
into the haven of eternal safety. What a bright surprise
will be theirs Avhen they go up on the happy shore, and
boirin to live indeed !
LETTERS OF COUNSEL AND CONSOLATION. 155
' When the shore is won at last,
Who Avould count the billows past ? '
" Life here is but a dawning — a dawning, as you know,
often early overcast. But life yonder, where reigns the
Lord of all — oh, how beautiful ! And if, through God's
mercy, we win it, as I hope we shall, I am sure we shall be
sorry that we did not think more about it, and desire it
more, and lay up our hearts' treasure there, where it cannot
be lost.
" But I am writing more than you can read at one time.
Good-bye for this day. I think of you every day, and
very often I pray God to help you through, and to give
you such a sense of His own love as will comfort you in all
your trouble."
To Miss , 10th August 1866.
London.
" I am thankful that A is suffering less, although
perhaps substantially no better. Her invincible hopeful-
ness and passionate clinging to life are so far natural, and
very touching. I cannot help thinking there is religion in
it, and that ' the living God ' will interpret the feeling
graciously, and use it for the nourishment of the deeper
and longer life.
" Yet, I still doubt whether you ought not to speak
much more plainly to her. ... It seems to me that she
ought to be trusted with all you know yourselves. When
the truth comes to her at length, she may blame you for
the earlier silence — and this, although it has really been
owing to her resolute unwillingness to entertain the idea,
that she has not been possessed with it long ago. It is
impossible, of course, to foresee the effect of such a com-
munication to her. From all my experience, the prob-
ability seems to m^e that it would not affect her state of
156 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
liealth, except transiently. It -would be distressing, but not
injurious. Pcrhajis that knowledge might (I have known
it so) ojierate as a strong medicine, helping the healing and
ultimate quiet of the mind. At any rate it is a serious
question, Avhether we liaA^e the righf,heyond a certain point,
to keep knowledge so serious in its character from the one
whom it chiefly concerns. I dare not judge, — and I feel
distressed in your distress, when I think of all the delicate
and difficult considerations which enter into the case. I
am only speaking plainly that you may have all the
elements of decision, and I am so sure of your desire to do
right on the Avhole — to discharge the duty of the whole case,
that whatever you do I shall believe to be right. I enclose
a short prayer for you to read, as you asked me to do. —
Ever truly yours, Alexander Raleigh.
" God, — the helper of the weak, and the rest of the
weary, let me (us) find rest Avith Thee. "We seek mercy to
pardon, and grace to help us in this our time of need. Our
sin is very great, but Thy mercy is far greater. Our wander-
ings have been many and far ; and amid the fever and
turmoil of these present things we have sadly forgotten
Thee ; but Thou hast ever been mindful of us. Thou hast
ever been near and close on us with the followings of Thy
grace. And n-oiv, Thou art waiting to be gracious. At
this moment, in this place. Thou art ' very pitiful and of
tender mercy.' Here is opened Thy fountain of cleansing
for sinful souls — may we see it. Here Thou art speaking
peace — may our inmost hearing listen to the word of
forgiveness. Pardon us. Purify us. Give us the spirit of
adoption, whereby we may now cry '' Abba, Father ; ' and
as we lift up our face to Thee, may the light of Thy coun-
tenance fall on us as the morning, and put joy into our
hearts.
LETTERS OF COUNSEL AND CONSOLATION. 157
" help us to be ' children ' through all our trouble
and affliction. Thou ever-blessed God, Thou knowest how
dark the night sometimes becomes to us, and how heavy
and irksome the cross is after we have borne it many days.
Thou knowest how deep calleth unto deep, and how Thy
billows and waves go over us. Kemember us. Lead us
to the rock that is higher than we. Set our feet on it
firmly, and put a new song into our mouth, even praise unto
our God. Help us to bear pain without murmuring, to
lean all our weakness on Thy strength. Help us, even in
the darkness, to wait for the dawn, not doubting that it
will come at length. Help us to cast all our care on Thee,
for Thou carest for us. Day and night keep us in safety ;
and when the discipline of life is complete, bring us,
through the grace of Thy dear Son, into His everlasting
kingdom. Amen." •
To Miss , 16th August 1866.
Southwold.
" . . . I shall be very anxious to hear what you decide
on doing. I wish I knew what to say or do for the best,
and how to help you all, but above all the dear and
troubled pilgrim who is apparently nearing the end of her
journey. I still feel the help would be so much more
easily given if the full truth, as nearly as language can
express it, were set before her. . . .
"I am aware of the difficulties, and how in her presence,
and in contact with her delicate peculiarities, these diffi-
culties are magnified and multiplied. Still to me the duty
seems clear and paramount. A little, or indeed a good
deal of distress in her own mind, is as nothing compared
Avith the possible and probable results. If after the first
shock of fear there should come ' quietness and confidence '
in God her Saviour, how good would it be for her and for
158 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
you all ! If you do not tell her before, you must let ine
tell her when I come. May God direct and sustain you !
And may He draw the dear child soon, and fully to her
own consciousness, under the shadow of His wings ! . . ."
To Miss , 27th August 1866.
Arran House.
"Your letters have been very welcome, and I am, on
the whole, very thankful for the tidings they have brought.
I could indeed have wished that you had been spared the
little troubles that have come to you by the descending of
the cloud at times upon your dear sister, and the return for
a little of something like the old moods of mind. But it
would have been very wonderful if this had not been.
"You should comfort and strengthen yourselves with
the hetter things which have also been. They are the truest
things. And they are the pledge and promise of, other
things like themselves, which will come in due time — when
they are needed and sought. . . .
"I am in the beginning of a very busy week, or I
would come to you for a day or two ; but indeed I feel
that now this is not needed."
To Miss A , 28th August 1866.
Arran House.
" My dear a , I will not trouble you with a letter ;
but I cannot refrain from sending you a few words of
earnest and loving sympathy. I often bear you company
in spirit, as you go on your Avay from this life to another.
We are all travelling in the same direction. You are only
going a little more rapidly ; but we shall soon overtake
you. I hope avc shall soon all be together again. Nor
are you nearly so much alone as appears, even now. A
great multitude is going with you. And how quietly they
LETTERS OF COUNSEL AND CONSOLATION. 159
go ! There is no difficulty. The great ' passing away '
from this world, which never ceases, is all as quiet as the
movements of the stars. Death is terrible only to our
fears. * The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin
is the law, but thanJcs he to God ivhich giveth us the victory
through our Lord Jesus Christ.'' That victory I do hope and
believe you have begun to win. You are winning it in
your weakness, and making it more and more certain by
every day and night of weariness and struggle through
which you pass. Eather, He is winning it for you — He
who has loved you, and given Himself for you. Dearest
A , it seems to me the most unlikely of all the things
I can imagine that He should cast you off, or leave you to
perish. * Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be
afraid.' Your sin, which you sometimes feel to be so great,
and which I would not for the world teach you to think of
as little — He will take it all away. In your most troubled,
anxious times doubt not this. To doubt this would be to
add one sin more to the long list, and that a sin which,
while it continues, grieves him more, in some respects,
than all the rest. ' I, even I, am He that blotteth out thy
transgressions, and will not remember thy sins.' He will
perfect His own strength in your weakness. He will not
leave you. He will take care that you get through. You
are, in fact, partly through already. Having given up life,
at His will, although you love it dearly, you may be said,
in a sense, to have died. How much I hope and pray that
the bitterness of death may be already past. The rest will
be only falling asleep. Fear it not. It is sleeping in Him.
And those who sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him.
Accepted with Him here, and now, there is, and can be no
more to fear ; but all the beauty, and goodness, and joy of
eternity to hope for. 'Let not your heart be troubled,
neither let it be afraid,' After all failures, begin each day
160 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
anew. And although, after your best endeavours, your
obedience will seem so little— at best a poor, stained,
worthless thing, and your sin still so great — love Him and
trust Him only the more, and in a little while all will be
well ; you will be away beyond sin and sorrow, waiting for
us on the hills of light and glory.
'Till the short night wears past,
Weeping and prayer must last ;
But joy approaches with the dawning day.'
' There end the longings of the weaiy breast ;
The good sought after here is there possest.
Ride o'er the stormy sea,
Poor bark ! soon shalt thou be
In the calm haven of eternal rest.'
" ' The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord cause
His face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto yout
The Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and give you
peace.' — Most affectionately yours,
"Alexander Ealeigh."
To Miss A , 12th September 1866.
Arran House.
" My dearest A , When I got home this afternoon
I found the book you had so kindly sent me. I think if
you had had all the books that are published beside you to
choose from, you could not have found one that would give
me greater pleasure to keep and use for your dear sake.
We shall keep it carefully, and yet use it often. When
we sing the hymns it will be impossible not to think,
sometimes, how much better the donor would have sung
had she continued with us ; but, dear A , as you know,
that is not much — I mean the beauty of your singing here
— a far, far sweeter thought will be the 'good hope
through grace ' left A\dth us, that you will be singing still,
having your part in the higher strains of the heavenly
LETTERS OF COUNSEL AND CONSOLATION. 161
world ; for I am sure thcat all that most delights us here
will have refined and beautiful fulfilment in the life to
which we go.
*'I look back with a great deal of interest and thank-
fulness to the little conversations we have had during the
different times I have seen you ; and I think especially
the last will live in my memory ; and I shall keep the
memory of it as a pledge and token that we are to talk
again — I mean in the happy world, to which I feel sure
you are going. I feel sure of this, because I am so con-
fident that your Guide will not lose you. Darkness may
fall, for a little, now and again, but He will soon lead you
into the light once more. His own words now are
specially true to you — 'A little while !' 'Be thou faithful
unto death ' — that is all — ' and I will give thee a crown of
life.' The less you feel to have of your own (and I know
you can have nothing), the more glory you can give to Him.
Angels can worship and serve the Son of God for His
moral excellency, but only the sinner can glorify the Savioui".
I commend you to Him, and to His boundless love. As
often as I come to Him myself, weak and sinful as I am, I
shall remember you and your — not greater — but . . . more
immediate needs. I long and pray that you may be upheld
and strengthened to the end. If you continue for a little
while, I think 1 shall not be able to help coming to see
you again. If you are called soon it will be well, and I
shall hope to meet you in 'a little while.' — I am, dearest
A , ever truly yours,
"Alexander Raleigh."
To Miss , Monday Morning, 17th September 1866.
Arran House.
" My dear , And the end has come at length ;
M
162 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
and your sainted sister has gone — at His own call, to be ■
for ever -with the Lord. I have not been able to restrain
my tears as I read your account of the going away. But
I think the tears have sprung far more from a fountain of
joy than, grief. I do indeed sorrow with you all most
truly ; but in my deepest heart I can find cause only for
joy. I am sure she is home, and happy and pure now,
as the ransomed ones among Avhom her place has been
prepared.
"Although I am much accustomed to God's gracious
ways, yet to me it seems wonderful, in looking back, to see
how, during these few weeks, swiftly, yet surely, she lias
been 'hasting on from grace to glory.' And lest any
doubts should linger with you, God gave to her and you
that calm, peaceful, parting — your farewells spoken as at
the gate, and within hearing of the ' harpers harping with
their harps.' This last gift of God I am sure you will all
cherish in grateful memory. It is according to the tender
mercy of our God. May His comforts be with you noAV,
and through tbe coming time. The loneliness and the
aching of the sorrow are yet to come, I fear, after all is
over. But oh, it is such a mercy that you will be able to
soothe it with these happy recollections and with the
glorious hope of reunion !
" I shall travel with you in spirit to-morrow in your
sorrowful journey. May He who has redeemed body and
soul be with you ! May the Lord of resurrection give you
the victory over death.
" I write in haste to be in time before you leave.
" In the most affectionate sympathy with you all, ever
yours most truly,
"Alexander Raleigh."
LETTERS OF COUNSEL AND CONSOLATION. 163
To Miss , 18th September 18G6.
Airaii House.
"You will be travelling home to-day, with joy and
sorrow in your hearts, and I write this line to meet you
to-morrow amid the old familiar scenes, which Avill all be
somewhat altered to you now. Nothing will be the same.
Not only the house, but the whole circle of life will now
be full of touching memories and relics. You sj)oke of
'shrinking' from them, or from the duty that will keep
you for a little in the midst of them. No doubt there will
be something of this. A very little thing will have power
for a while to open the fountain of tears, and gleams will
shine on you out of the dear past. But you will find also
a strange and sweet attraction, which will purify and
soothe your spirits, even amid and coming from the things
which most keenly touch your grief. Be assured that our
sori'ow will mingle with yours, even as also we 'joy and
rejoice with you all.' One word of Scripture is always
occurring to me — ' Victory.' ' Thanks be unto God, who
giveth us the victory.' ' More than conquerors.'
" Nor will this triumph grow dim. In a little while I
quite expect you will not, perhaps, be able to realise it so
fully. For a season you will be in heaviness through the
inevitable recoil, and the impossibility of living always on
the heights, in the course of a ])ilgrimage which has so
many hollows as Avell. But ' again a little while ' and the
victory will come back to you, and dwell more calmly with
you as a long life-blessing. ..."
To Miss , 2 2d September 1866.
Arran House.
" I feel as if I ought not to have been keeping silence
through several days. Such days as these last have been
164 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
with you. And yet, as one of tliein came after another, I
felt, somehow, as if silence for the time was best.
" You were in the cloud, darkness and glory strangely
mingling, and I did not like to send a message until ' the
hour ' was over. Now I am sorry that I did not at least
send you a few words from the great Book for the morning
of the funeral.
" I hope you had the great presence — the Lord of life
Himself Avith you, and that, not on the second parting
day, any more than on the first, did either of you feel
disposed to say, ' Lord, if Thou hadst been here my sister
had not died.' The second parting — that with the body,
is often harder than the first — that with the ripened and
heaven-desiring spirit. On that early Sabbath morning, at
, you were glad when the Master came, almost light-
ing the room with His presence, and took your sister as
out of your hand into His. But yesterday — when the dear
form, which had been silent for days, was carried from
sight and earthly home for ever, I fear you may have had.
some darkness and sorrow. It was my prayer yesterday,
and it is my hope to-day, that God would wipe away the
tears as they came, and that He would take you safely,
and in chastened trustfulness, through the day. . . .
" In sorrowing sympathy with you all, I remain, very
affectionately yours,
"Alexander Ealeigh."
The following three letters were written to a very
dear and highly-gifted friend, who "had come to know
suddenly that she had only a few months to live.
Arran House, London, \Ath May 1869.
" I am very very much grieved by your letter, indeed I
may say quite discomfited. It brings to me one of those dark-
LETTERS OF COUNSEL AND CONSOLATION. 165
enings which, for the moment, make my heart stand still —
and life is all covered to me with mystery and filled with
pain. Yet I am familiar enough with such tidings as you
tell, and perhaps I ought not to be so surprised and stunned
by any such intelligence. But you know how dear you and
yours have been and are to me, both the living and the
dead; and you can imagine and believe somewhat, how
much I am with you in spirit 'under the cloud' and
' passing through the sea,' and how deeply I drink with you
all of the cup of sorrow. But 'be of good cheer.' It is,
it must be right. * It is the Lord, let Him do what seemeth
unto Him good.' "
1 1th May. — " So far I wrote just a few minutes after
receiving your first letter. But I was called off; then came
the inevitable preparations for Sunday ; and now I have
your second. I am sorry you have had the trouble of
writing it ; and yet if you are not injured by the effort, I
am glad to have it also. But I quite understood your first
letter. I see quite well how dark and bitter the case must
seem to you in some of its aspects. Indeed, it is dark to
me, and I cannot explain it. I can only remind you of other
things which are true, and which, when you feel them to be
true, will help you to pass through this great trouble with
the 'patience of hope.'
" You ask me to tell you what I think and believe and
hope quite plainly. Well, I believe that ' God is love.'
Now you will not think that an off-hand evangelical sen-
tence, adapted to the occasion on my part. I assure you
that when I go to the root of all my thinking, to the secret
source and inspiration of all my believing, as far as I can
understand it, that is the pure residual element and outcome
of the whole — ' God is love.' If I did not believe that, I
could not believe anything. That being true, in my think-
ing rules everything else, and will at length explain every-
166 xVLEXANDER RALEIGH.
tiling else. Then Avliy all this pain and grief and evil, of
which life is so full 1 That I cannot tell — but at least
these things do not make it less but more desirable to
believe it. If it were a thing so self-evident as to admit
of no question, if it were shed through all our sensations
and experiences, there would, in that case, be no need for
that stupendous and most Avonderful assertion and proof of
it which we have in Christ Jesus and the Cross. ' Herein
is love ' — that God gave His Son to die for us. And now
there is nothing better that we can do, than set that grand
fact over against all that is painful and distressing in our
lot, and against all that is dark and unsatisfactory in our-
selves. ' God is love.' God hath loved us — every one of
us, as I believe — with a personal affection. God hath given
His Son to die for us ; and how shall he not, with Him,
freely give us all things 1
" You charge me to be frank and honest, and I must
therefore say that I do not see how you can hope for
' peace ' in the deep full sense until you believe this. If
you impute to Him in your thoughts, it may be not directly
but by implication, anything malign or cruel; or if you think
of Him as in a large degree indifferent to what you are
suffering, and to what you are and to what you may become,
you will do Him grievous injustice, and, of course, the rest
that lies in ' Abba Father ' will not be yours,
" It grieves me to think that possibly, for a while, your
pain and suffering may lack those merciful assuagements
which simple trust in Christ and filial love to the Father
would throw into them. Yet I feel sure you do believe in
Jesus, and that you come to the Father by Him; and I feel
far more sure that He will not leave you nor forsake you
in this sore trouble. He is choosing you in the furnace of
affliction. I fancy one of your constant temptations is to
try everything by reason. Everything must be tried by
LETTERS OF COUNSEL AND CONSOLATION. 167
reason, of course, in a measure. But, after all, reason is an
instrument that goes but a short way towards a full and
accurate measurement of things. ' I feel ! I yearn ! I fear !
I love !' These are just as divine as 'I think and reason.'
These are just as divine as 'I think and learn.' And,
therefore, I Avould you could try not to reason always, but
just go right on into trust and love.
" But may I say — because I have the suggestion now —
that I don't think you reason very well; e.g. what a con-
clusion that is, that ' no flowers are so fair and no breezes
so soft ' as those of earth ! / reason rather in this way —
that if the flowers are so beautiful here and so plentiful, in
this sorrowful and sinful world, %m aliall he, sure to find them
again, or those better things of which they are the types,
when we go away. Oh yes, the summer is yonder, not
here ! ' There shall be no night there,' ' neither sorrow nor
crying, neither shall there be any more pain.' God grant
you grace to ' endure ' now, so as to win that great felicity
in due time !
" Now I am called, and I must not risk losing the post
to-day by waiting to finish. But I will write again, and I
wall come and see you, and meanwhile have you often in
my thoughts when I think of God and come to Him. —
Believe me, with profound sympathy in this great trial,
yours ever truly,
" Alexander Ealeigh."
To the Same, 27th July 18G9.
Loiver Joi^pa.
"... I am glad to have seen you, and to have had
so much talk in little time. It is difficult to say what
one feels concerning a friend in your condition. It seems
so solemn, and yet sometimes so attractive ! God is so
168 ALEXANDER IlALEIGil.
sure to come near to you in your need now tliat you are a
' stranger in the earth,' and to supply tliat need, in one
way or other, and hy more or less pleasant consciousness.
At least so I feel, and nothing could deprive me of this
assurance.. But I pray that it may be verified to yourself
in a happy consciousness, and that the burden of pain and
physical endurance may be the heaviest you bear. Yet if
He sees meet to lay more upon you, and to give you still,
at times, mental ' tossings to and fro ' before bright calm
day comes to stay with you, may He uphold you through
them all ! The journey to the feet of Jesus or to God,
seems by our religious language short and simple and easily
made. And so it really is to some. But to others it is
nothing less than the circumnavigation of the whole world
of thought and feeling. As often as you are out in the
night and in the storm, may He Avho once walked on the
waters near His disciples find you and guide you to the
land! . . ."
To the Same, 1-ith November 1869.
Arran House.
" I often think of you, and wonder how you are getting
on through the days ; and now and again some word has
arisen in my heart, which I wished at the time to speak to
you, but which did not seem worth writing. I think I
never now in prayer mention those in afiliction without
casting my sympathies 'more abundantly to youwards.'
The thought, that you may have to suff"er much, that you
may have to wait long, that sometimes for a season ' you
may be in heaviness,' and that amid all changes there is
still but the one end in your sight — these things make my
remembrance of you sometimes full of tenderness and pity,
I know this is not a thing to speak about ; but to-night I
LETTEES OF COUNSEL AND CONSOLATION. 169
somehow feel that to know even this much might help you,
if only for a short half-hour. Indeed, if your help comes
to you in this way — by the hour, and according to the
measure of the present need, you will, I am sure, try to be
thankful for it, and to take it just as and when it comes.
And if at times it should be no more than negative in its
character — ' not distressed,' ' not in despair,' ' not forsaken,'
* not destroyed' — that will be enough. ' He that endureth
to the end shall be saved.'
" Not that I fear you will be stinted of positive helps
and comforts by the ' God of all comfort.' He has a thou-
sand channels by which to send it to His children, and all
forms, measures, and degrees for its administration ; and I
thank His name that He has made you, more than most,
receptive of His grace in many ways — by nature, by friend-
ship, by literature, by the faces of those who love you so
well, as well as more directly and powerfully by the great
sorrow and victory of Calvary. Sometimes we feel hardly
able or not worthy to go to the very fountains of grace,
and yet we are thankful enough to have it in little stream-
lets by the way, or in cups of cold water brought from
them by our friends. May God give you grace and its
help by means of flowers, and the beautiful sea, and the
mountains beyond, and by what you hear every day of
your friends, and by the dear faces you see ! Yet the
moments will be when all this Avill not be enough, and you
will thirst for still deeper communion, and for a still holier
comfort. Oh, then may God guide you to Himself by
His new and living way — up to the fountain of His mercy
and the fulness of His eternal love in Christ Jesus ! And
then may you be so purified and filled, that you will be
able to wait in quietness and hope till your change come !
" This is enough for your reading at one time, although
there is so little in it. But, in truth, I don't write so much
IVO ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
to s(nj anytliing, as simply to tell you that you are held in
our continual remembrance.
" We are all well except myself, and I am struggling
on to health — 'if the Lord will.' I am preaching only
once a Aveek, and in the spring I hope to get away for a
long vacation. — I remain, very affectionately yours,
" Alexander Raleigh."
CHAPTEE XIII.
SWITZERLAND.
"0 all wide places, far from feverous towns !
Great sliining seas, pine forests, mountains wild !
Room ! give me room ! give loneliness and air !
Free things and plenteous in your regions fair."
George MacDonald.
For a year from the spring of 1868 Dr. Ealeigh enjoyed
the assistance in his ministerial Avork of the Eev. J. W.
Atkinson (now of Latimer Chnrch), who, with much
kindness, did aU that was possible to lighten the burden,
now becoming excessive, both of the pulpit and the
pastorate. Notwithstanding this opportune help. Dr.
Ealeigh's health gave way so far in the summer of
1869, that with the concurrence of his people, he
began to make arrangements for an absence of some
months in the following year.
A somewhat alarming attack of illness in July con-
firmed this intention. Suddenly, while preaching one
Sunday morning, his mind became a blank, and he was
obliged to finish abruptly and leave the pulpit. All
through the rest of the day he was unable to remember
172 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
anything of what he liad said; even his text, when
quoted, was not recognised, and it was not until the
next day that his memory returned. Such a warning
was too plain to be disregarded, and in April 1870 he,
with all his family, left England to spend six months
in Switzerland. The plan followed was to enter the
country from the north, spending the spring months in
Basle and the Jura mountains, till the higher mountain
retreats should be open — and without much further
fatigue of travel, to pass the summer and autumn there.
Accordingly, early in June, the party went from Basle,
and the Jura, to Villars, a village on the northern slope
above tlie Ehone valley, where the Aiguilles and the
Dent du Midi rise in full view. The ascent of a
neighbouring height, near the Chalet Villars, brings
Mont Blanc into the prospect, and during a quiet
sojourn of five weeks there, with the solemn stillness of
the pine-woods about him. Dr. Ealeigh began to throw
off his weariness.
From Villars the travellers went on to Zweisimmen,
a lovely village some sixteen miles from Thun, lying
at the centre of the branching valleys of the Simmen
Thai. There the longest and best part of the holiday
was spent. The beauty of the little village, not much
frequented by strangers, the simple ways of the people,
and the kind courtesy of the host and hostess of the
hotel, made the place for the time like a home. Thence
Dr. Ealeigh, alone, went to spend a fortnight in San
Moritz, and returned to his family just after the Franco-
German war had burst over France.
SWITZERLAND. 173
During his absence from England he wrote several
simple letters to his people at Hare Court. Extracts
taken from these will give his impressions and thoughts
as he moved among unfamiliar scenes.
Basle, I2th May 1870.
"... I do not intend to make this a letter of pas-
toral instruction or counsel, but rather a homely record
of observations and impressions made as one passes
along. ..."
After some description of a week in Paris, he goes
on : —
" We leave Paris early in the morning, and if you care
to keep us company you must be up betimes. . . . Rattling
in our little omnibus, through the quiet streets in the early
morning — to a distant railway station, there to begin an
unknown journey, towards a destination equally unknown,
all our six children with us — we did feel a little like
Abraham when he went out, ' not knowing whither he
went.' . . . The trees were all quite bare, more naked of
leaf and bud than even in England, the winter has been so
long. But the people were very busy in the fields and on
the hillsides where the vines grow. Full half of these
hard workers are women. They seem to do everything
that men do — they dig the soil, bear the heavy weight,
drive the oxen, even guide the plough sometimes. These
things they do often, while * my lord ' is refreshing his
weariness with a pipe, or toasting himself at full length in
the sun. France is extremely polite to her women — and
just a little cruel. Sisters ! we, your brothers, are not what
we should be ; but I believe you may go round the world
and not find a nobler creature of the sex than a aood
174 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
Englishman ! In the long journey of the day (to Basle)
Ave passed many a farm- steading snug and comfortable,
many a country-house and old chateau, and many a village
and town, Avith the never-failing church and house for the
priest hard by. . . . From external appearance one would
say that France is as Avell supplied with the Gospel as
England or Scotland. The ditference, however, in the
substance of that which is supplied is very great, and one
cannot help a feeling of deep pain and sorrow that the
actual distribution should be so defective and so corrupted.
Yet, too, on the other hand, I found that for myself I
could not but have a feeling of thankfulness in the thought
of what really is done by Roman Christianity. The system,
in some of its doctrinal aspects, and in what may be called
its genius and spirit, is detestable, and must be opposed by
all Avho love light and freedom, and the full salvation of
God. . . . But in many of its private and personal influ-
ences I cannot doubt that it is for good. Through its
dimness earnest souls see the heavenly light, and although
hindered by its superstitions, they find Him who makes His
people free.
" Here, for instance, by the wayside, stands a represen-
tation of the scene of the Crucifixion. The three crosses
are here. On my sensibilities the thing has no effect, my
faith is not helped by it. But see ! a youth is kneeling
there atid looking up wistfully to the central Figure. If
he is really ' looking to Jesus,' I am apt to think that the
dear Lord will not reckon hardly with him about the
means through which he has approached Him, seeing these
are the only means he has been taught to use. Now do
not suppose I am growing heretic or latitudinarian. I
Avould remove all the crucifixes if I safely could, and all
the altars from the churches, and give all the good priests
quite other and nobler occupation than kneeling and
SWITZERLAND. 175
mumbling and sacrificing there. But since I have no power
to do these things, I am glad in my journeyings to look
for the good in the evil, to keep full half the day at least
on the bright side of things, and Avait in the hope of the
morning.
" So, as it is now nightfall — and yonder are the German
hills, and the Rhine ; and as the lights of the city, where
we mean to stay for some weeks, are beginning to appear,
I take leave of France with the reflection that she is, for
the present, and until times and things are more ripe,
better with her churches and altars and crucifixes than she
would be without them. ..."
Basle, 2Qth May 1870.
"... This city, although it is really Swiss, and the
capital of its canton, is yet situated so as almost to touch
three kingdoms, and may be said, practically, to belong to
them all. Out of my window while I write I can see the
Vosges Mountains, which are the eastern ramparts of
France. I can see yet more clearly the mountains of the
Black Forest in Germany ; and from a little height behind
the house I can see the first slopes of the Jura, which
stretch away to the lake of Geneva. . . .
" Mountains are like human friends — you get to know
them only by degrees. They are shy, and disclose their
secrets slowly. The hurrying traveller — with his Con-
tinental Bradshaw in his hand, doing his hundred miles a
day — sees little of them. They have no fixed days or
hours for their best appearances. We never know when
the gates may open, and the great Cathedral service begin ;
but it is worth waiting for.
" In the guide-books the city has little or no recom-
mendation, yet it has many points of interest. It is
ancient, and was once well fortified with wall and fosse
and tower. Several of the old gateways are still left, one
176 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
in a state of much completeness. You could fancy Jewish
elders seated in it, or the husband of the wise woman of
the Proverbs.
" To us English folks one of the most curious and in-
teresting sights in Basle is that of the storks' nests. They
are mostly on the tops of the highest churches, on the
very ridge or pinnacle, where to the eye looking from
below there seems a precarious and insufficient basis for so
large a structure ; yet they are "well built and they never
full. A great mass of matter, chiefly branch and twig,
with softer material inside, is carried up by the creatures,
and woven into such a texture, and so laid on and in the
church, that it can defy the storms. The great birds may
be seen standing on their nests against the sky, or sailing
in circles high in air. They are much regarded by the
people, who never shoot or annoy them. Even birds and
pigeons are much tamer than Avitli us, showing kindlier
treatment on the part of the young citizens. Surely it is
very desirable that young England should be taught, if it
be possible, not to dash and tear and shoot at everything
that comes within reach or sight.
" The canton is Catholic, but the city has a separate
Government, and is highly Protestant. There is a cathe-
dral more than 500 years old, connected with which is a
famous Council Hall, which remains as it was when 500
Eomish ecclesiastics, in Ecumenical Council assembled,
asserted the hiferiority of Popes to Councils. A most
pestilent place surely !
" The first time I attended morning service was in the
cathedral. It was Easter Sunday morning, and the service
begins at nine o'clock. And the place was full more than
a quarter of an hour before that timie, for I could not get a
seat, except behind a pillar like a wall. I did indeed get
a seat at first, for, more Protestant than the Protestant
SWITZERLAND. 177
Baselers, I entered by the central door with my eldest
child, and sat down in the middle of the building among
the ladies. I soon began to feel a painful lack of male
society, and glancing to the right and left, I soon saw how
great the mistake was ; for there, filKng the side aisles, in
dense long rows, sat the inferior part of the human race,
all looking, as I thought, at me.' I was half afraid that
some official might come and talce me out. I therefore
made my way out as quietly and gracefully as I could, and
stood behind the pillar, like one doing penance. After-
wards I was sorry I had moved, for I learned that old
gentlemen, and middle-aged gentlemen with white heads, are
allowed to sit in the centre.
" I Avas present at the Lord's Supper last Sunday, and
was impressed with its simplicity and solemnity. ... I
liked it on the whole. But I don't like the separation of
the sexes ; I don't like the black dresses ; I don't like the
minister keeping hold of the cup. There is a touch of the
old mistress of abominations in the service, a flavour of
superstition, a suggestion of the dead Christ without a suffi-
cient admixture of the cheerfulness and joy which should
fill our hearts in the thought of Christ 'risen from the
dead to die no more.'
" But I am told that many of the people are good and
live consecrated lives, and give much of their substance to
the Master ; and if this is their way of keeping the feast, I
have no business to be censorious, as, indeed, I have no
disposition. ...
" I purpose sending you another letter, but not until I
am really among the snow - moimtains. Meantime, may
you all be in peace. May you have Divine strength for
your woi'k, and consolation in all your sorrow, and God
Himself to guide your way. May that way in. no case take
a downward turning; but, however hard or rough it may
N
178 ALEXANDER EALEIGII.
be at times, may the footmarks always slope upwards ; and
at length, when the little journeys of earth are over, may
Ave all meet in the paths of a yet grander pilgrimage that
shall be encompassed with no shadows or dangers, and
amid the joys of yet nobler work ! , , ."
Chalet Villars, sur Ollon Aigle,
28th June 1870.
" . . .■ Our first stage was only up among the lower
mountains of the Jura range. By the term 07ily I do not
mean any disparagement to those mountains, for anything
more lovely of their kind I suppose the earth does not
contain. There are no craggy heights piled up among the
clouds, no long sweeps of unstained snow. The mountains
are high, but so clothed with beauty that you do not
realise the height ; and so steeped in fragrance of flower
and grass and breathing pine, that you lose the sense of
grandeur and sublimity, and feel yourself walking in a
garden of delights. And somehow there is among them a
constant suggestion of something better and more magni-
ficent beyond ; as if God were saying, ' I have up yonder,
among the everlasting hills, a throne, a temple, and this is
the approach to it.' . . .
" I have sometimes wondered what would be the effect
if some of the hottest and most feverish spirits of the city
were suddenly transported thither, and left for a season in
the dewy coolness, and ainid all the beauty. If a higher
influence were sought, the natural eflect would be refreshing
and purifying in a great degree. Of one and another
it might be written, ' And immediately the • fever left
him ;' or one might write in his own diar}^ ' And the even-
ing and the morning Avere the first day ' — ' I have never
lived until now.' But alas ! the city-fever is an inter-
mittent one, and would, I fear, return, by 'breathing again
SWITZERLAND. 179
the city air. Therefore, our thankfulness ought to be
unbounded that we have in the city that which is the
only effectual cure for its heats and chills, its taints and
sorrows. . . .
" Now we have left the Jura behind us ; we have
passed through the green vestibule ; we have, as it were,
gone up the great stairs that lead to the vast mountain
temple ; we are within this pile, in one of the side aisles
at last; by just looking round a pillar, or bend of the
great mountain (it takes us an hour to do it), we can see
the high altar — Mont Blanc himself, in snowy whiteness ;
and the scene is wonderful — far too wonderful, and too
much wrapt in celestial beauty to be described. It is a
beauty which enters at once into the soul, but which I
find, for my own part, does not easily flow thence in any
forms of language. There are moments of appreciation
and receptivity so high, and moods of natural rapture so
all-absorbing, that language, even from friend or com-
panion, will be a disturbance — almost an offence. The
prattle of a little child gathering flowers is endurable at
such a time, perhaps, but no remarks from the wise, no
sentences from guide-books, no moral ' improvements ' — I
prefer the hush, the whiteness, the celestial calm, which no
mortal speech, however cunning and reverent, can interpret.
It is but sober truth and no poetic strain to say, that
sometimes it would hardly be a surprise to see, on yonder
mountain -top, in waking reality, what Jacob saw in his
dream — 'the angels of God ascending and descending.'
Yonder, if anywhere in this material world, is the ' gate of
heaven.' ... I can only say this, that I wish you Avere ail-
here to see. Not that you would all see if you were here,
for some are gr-eatly more impressionable than others, sen-
tiently, and by means of the imagination. ..."
After speaking of the characteristics of the Swiss
180 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
people, and of their reputation for courage and patriot-
ism, he says : —
" An immense number of the people, relatively, live by
the soil — not only live by it, but possess it. , . .
" These little wooden chalets which dot the green hill-
side — and I can number them hterally by the hundred — on
all the mountain slopes round about, have nearly all separate
proprietors. Two or three fields, perhaps, well fenced with
a wooden paling, constitute the patrimonial estate. Perhaps
they slope so steeply that you need the alpenstock to ascend
with comfort, but they are green with grass, which will in
a few days be hay, stored in due time for winter fodder. . .
" Now, at midsummer, the real mountains become fit
for pasture, and the cows and goats are driven up to the
higher altitudes — six, seven, almost eight thousand feet
above the sea, and left there until the autumn. . . . There
are little wooden villages, tenanted only during the short
summer, desolate and silent all the year besides. The
population go up in force to bring their stock down for the
winter, and the cheese is brought down with them by means
of sledges over the rough stony roads.
" These are simple annals, but they cannot be called
* the annals of the poor.' Poor the people are not, in any
proper sense, although they might be written down so in the
estimate and category of overblown wealth and pride.
There are no poor-rates here, and not one in fifty of the
native Swiss is in any way dependent upon the alms of the
community. In England the proportion is one in eight, with
a constant pressure towards increase of that number. . . .
" Switzerland is ' blessed,' as some would say, Avith an
established Church. Here it is Protestantism. Yonder it
is Popery. In this parish there is for Gospel ' Jesus Christ
and Him crucified ; ' in one not fiir away, nothing but
SWITZERLAND. 181
science and law. It is precisely this state of things which
is making the good people of Switzerland who hold the
evangelical faith, restive under the yoke, which they feel to
be both galling and humiliating. ... I believe they are
coming rapidly to the conviction that the only true and
sufficient relief for them will be found in asking the State
to disestablish them all, and give them liberty to establish
themselves as they can in the hearts of the people, by
' manifestation of the truth to every man's conscience in
the sight of God.' . . .
" It is said that the people in the mountains are far
more conservative than those in the plains. Living amid
the eternal stabilities of nature, they seem not to relish the
sudden changes and manifold movements which come by
the variable winds of human opinion.
" How far does the magnificent scenery affect the mind
and character of the resident population % There can be
no doubt it does affect them, but I apprehend not con-
sciously to themselves very much. . . . Many an excla-
mation of wonder and delight, of reverence and awe, is
uttered in these parts during the summer months, but they
nearly all come from the lips of strangers. The workers
in the fields are too busy and sometimes too tired to watch
the play of light and shade over height and hollow, or to
listen to the ocean-sighings of the wind among the pines.
Not often, if ever, do they render, even to the white-robed
mountains — blushing in the sunrise, or fading away like
dying creatures in the last light of day — the homage of one
long admiring look. The truth is that Switzerland belongs
to Europe — to the world ! The higher and grander the
mountains are, the more they become common property.
No plough can pass over them, the cattle find no pasture
. there, hardly a bird will wing its flight over the undriven
snow. If any greedy human creature, emperor or million-
182 ALEXANDER llALEIGH.
aire, were personally or by representatives to go with the
measuring-line and the fence, saying, ' I will go up, I will
take possession, this now is mine,' he would find ere long
— not an estate but a grave. Literally, yonder heights,
draped in cloud or clear in sunshine, are possessed only
by the imagination, only by faith. Like the heaven which
is higher still than they, they are for all who will. They
are mine while I stay among them; they are yours if you
will come and behold them; they are yours, in a measure,
if you can shape them, in your fancy, where you sit. May
you learn, dear brethren, thus to inherit the earth and enjoy
it; and still more, may you learn to look beyond the bounds
of the everlasting hills of earth ! For in truth they are
not everlasting. ' The mountains shall depart and the hills
be removed;' — look narrowly and you will see them in the
very process of disruption and waste — washed by the rains,
riven by the frosts, flowing down in the glaciers. But
there is a ' better country, an heavenly,' and a grand metro-
politan City, in a peculiar manner built by the very hands
of God, Avhere we may have, if we will, not passing enter-
tainment but settled residence and home.
" There are certainly some of you — perhaps not a few
— who never will see these mountains, nor any at all like
them. To you there is a dispensation of lifelong work, and
sometimes you are weary, and sometimes a little sad, as
you think of what you are missing, and as you look along
the road by which you must go to the end.
" My dear fellow-travellers, I often think of you — of you
who are task-bound, of you who are toil-worn, of you who
are weary. And if among my thoughts about my dear
people there are better and worse, be assured that you
have my best thoughts, and that one of the fondest hopes
I cherish regarding my own unknown future is that this
rest I am having now may fit me to animate and help you
SWITZERLAND. 183
in the life-struggle in days to come. But, as I have said,
look- up and away and see what is coming soon. The little
inequalities of earth will soon be well redressed, and for
those who have had much labour and little relief and yet
have been faithful, — there Avill be over-measure of delight
when the bright reckoning days are come. To them surely
will come the privilege of making the first excursions to
some of the great new realms of heaven ! May we all live
now so as to find ' entrance ' ! If anywhere within its great
bounds it will be enough. Anywhere within sight of the
Saviour's glory ! Anywhere under the smile of God, and
in the company of His dear children for ever !— I remain,
ever affectionately yours,
" Alexander Raleigh."
During his stay at San Moritz Dr. Raleigh wrote to
his wife, then at Zweisimmen.
Hotel Steinbach, 18i/i July 1870.
"... Here to-night there Is nothing but wars and
rumours of wars, and much excitement. It seems that it
is really almost certain to come — the most causeless, wan-
ton, unprincipled war of modern times. If it breaks out
it will undoubtedly be fierce and sanguinary. Tremendous
is the responsibility of those who bring it on. In its sud-
denness it is not unlike one of the quick diabolical strokes
of the first Napoleon. The scene of it will be the Rhine.
Of course we must take the homeward way by some other
route. Several German families have arrived here to-night,
hasting home before the storm breaks — the King of Wur-
temburg among them. He has just dined here, and is
away by the evening mail. The Lord will ' make us to
dwell in safety.' Let us pray for peace, and that 'the
people may be scattered that delight in war.'
184 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
" My love to all the little soldiers. May each one be
a good soldier of Jesus Christ, and wage the bloodless con-
flict and -win the great victory !"
To the Same, 2 2d July 1870.
San Morit::.
" I got yours yesterday, and am thankful to learn that
you were preserved in 'lightning and tempest.' I am well
also, or as near it as I have been for a long time, although,
I still fear, some way from the full meaning of the term
' well,' as I once knew it. This certainly is a most reviving
air. Even Avhen the heat is great, as it is sometimes, there
are touches of coolness in the air, and many minutes never
elapse without a wafting of something like a cool breeze.
It is one of the prettiest places I have seen, and the gran-
deur lies all around the beauty. The air is so clear as to
make you feel sometimes that there is not barrier enough
between you and infinite space. . . .
" The place is still very full. If the war had not come,
I am sure the visitors must have been sleeping by this time
in haylofts, or on the mountain side. I got a very nice
room in the hotel, but they would not promise to let me
keep it. It looked out on the little green lake and on the
mountains beyond, and I paid only four francs a day for it,
which for San Moritz is very reasonable indeed. But here
I am now, waiting in a different place, although still living
in the hotel. The great drawback is that here I smell the
hay, and hear the horses, either below me or in the next
room ! The Prince and Princess of Italy arrived one night
with their suite, and I was turned out unceremoniously
after dark. Of course there w^as nothing for it but sub-
mission. Shall common clay usurp any place that is needed
for the finer material 1 The prince and princess are nice
little people enough. . . ."'
SWITZERLAND. 185
After some anxious consideration as to whether he
ought not to return with his family to England at once,
out of possible trouble and danger, he writes : —
To his Wife, 2d August 1870.
San Moritz.
"... At present, all things considered, I think our
strength is to sit still. ' He that believeth shall not make
haste.' But I must confess the duty is not quite so dear as
I could like it to be for comfort. It seems to me very
probable that England may come into the war. This
secret treaty is a most uncomfortable and ominous business.
It shows so much slipperiness and scoundrelism on the part
of Napoleon and Bismarck, such a perfect readiness, and
even desire, to aggrandise themselves and advance their
ambitious schemes at Belgium's and England's cost, that
there will be no sense of security now like that which has
been. ... I confess I wish we were all at Braemar, or
Southwold, or even Joppa. The danger is that the
flame may break out suddenly, and then English people
will find it extremely uncomfortable — to say the least — if
not diflficult and dangerous to get through France. My
being three days' journey away makes it worse. I will
think over the matter to-day, and let you know to-morrow
when I shall come home. To be away alone does me good
in this waj^, that it shows me how much, how entirely,
how only, my home is with you. ..."
The decision not to hasten home before the arranged
time was the one ultimately arrived at.
The following letters to his children are selected out
of many written to them from time to time : —
186 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
To his Youngest Daughter, 4th August 1870.
San Morit".
" My dear a , This is a letter to j'ou, all to your
own self, and it is from Papa. I hope you arc well, and
that you ' always behave like a queen. A real queen is
good and kind to everybody. If you were here I think
you would be very happy, for there are plenty of green
hillsides to j)lay on, and plenty of water-brooks to dabble
in ; but I daresay you are very happy where you are. I
am coming home soon now, and I will bring you some-
thing if I can find it. But there are no nice shops here,
only little shops, full of queer things. There are many
nice dogs here, great big dogs with white woolly hair, and
they are so quiet, you might ride on them. I would bring
one of them home with me, only ]\Iamma would not like it.
But perhaps, sometime when Mamma goes from home, we
may get a nice big dog into the house, and then when she
comes back it will wag its tail at her, and she will just
say, *0h how nice!' and then it Avill stay on for ever.
Give my love to Mamma and everybody. — I am your loving
Papa."
To his Sox, 5th August 1870.
San Morit:::.
" My dear W , I must write a short letter to you,
as I have to prepare for leaving this to-morrow. . . .
What did I promise to tell you about ? Oh, it was about a
dear animal that lives in this neighbourhood. It is an
animal not often seen, and, strange to say, although it is
such a lovely creature, people don't want ever to see it, and
would be very glad if it would go away altogether ; but it
won't. It has. four legs and rough shaggy hair, a hand-
some swing or roll in its walk, and if it meets any one it
Ukes very much, it can't help hugging him.
SWITZERLAND. 187
"^Now you know the darling creature. It is the bear.
There are two of them here just now, roaming in the pine
woods beyond the little lake. I have never seen them,
but the landlord has, and he says he knows them per-
sonally, for they have been down before. Some people
here don't believe it, but I believe it is quite true. Dr.
Berry, in the village, has a stuffed bear that was shot in
the same place not very long ago. Those two that the
landlord saw, I think, must belong to the family of Good
Bears, as they have come down several times, and have
never eaten anybody yet — I am your affectionate Papa."
After Dr. Ealeigh's return to Zweisimmen he and his
family remained there for some weeks ; the tranquillity
of the place, and the happy freedom from care there
enjoyed, contrasted strangely with the tidings brought
by every newspaper of the first battles of the war,
■when the autumn fields of France were trampled down
by the German hosts. Cherished memories remain of
these last weeks in Switzerland. The mornings he now
spent in study, preparing for his return to London, and
the afternoons and evenings were given to his family.
His .health was re-established, and he began to desire to
be at work once more. It was on 1st September, the
day of Napoleon's final defeat, that the party set out
on the homeward journey. A farewell pensiveness
touched even the sunsliine of that lovely autumn
morning as the carriage slowly w^ound round the
shoulder of the wooded hill, that shut out at last " the
happy valley " from sight, — closing gently, as Avith a
reluctant hand, the strong and silent door between
us and the past.
188 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
It ^Yas necessary to travel home through Germany,
hy Basle, Treiburg, Cologne, avoiding France, where the
war was raging; hut on reaching Basle it was found
that the trains on the German side of the Ehine had
ceased to run, having been fired at by French guns
planted on the other bank. The journey had therefore
to be made for some twenty miles to Schliengen by the
road, which lies in a safer position, and farther from the
river. Dr. Ealeigh was concerned as to the safety of
the way. But except for the German soldiers on march,
who were met in large numbers, the journey was peace-
ful enough. To travel by railway through a country
in time of war, when every means of locomotion is in
use to convey troops and war materials, was, however, a
slow and difficult process. There were many sad sights
— trains fiUed with wounded men, and, sadder yet,
fresh young fellows on their way to the front. One
sight was especially memorable, seen from the train
as it stood in the deepening twilight at Kehl, near
Strasbourg — the track in the air made by the rockets
and shells as they fell into the city.
Through all difficulties and delays the little party
were kept in perfect safety, and before the end of
September Dr. Ealeigh was again in his place at Hare
Court. We find him writing to a friend in January —
" We have just had our annual meeting ; in labour and
liberality the people have gone beyond any former year,
and this although I was absent the whole summer."
CHAPTEE XIV.
LECTUKES ON PEE ACHING.
' ' God did anoint tliee with His odorous oil
To wrestle, not to reign ; and He assigns
All thy tears over, like pure crystallines,
For younger fellow-workers of the soil.
To wear as amulets. So others shall
Take patience, labour, to their heart and hand.
From thy hand and thy heart and thy brave cheer.".,
E. B. BiiowNiNfi.
At the invitation of the Council of New College, Lon-
don, Dr. Ealeigh undertook in 1869 to deliver to the
students a course of lectures on preaching. It was Mr.
Binney who suggested that the chair of homiletics should
be occupied in turn by the leading ministers of the
denomination in London. He had himself for a time
performed the duties of the chair, and the following
note expresses the cordial satisfaction with which he
handed on his office to his friend : —
No date.
" My dear Friend — If you would hke to go with me on
Friday morning next, when I hope to get to New College
to take leave of the class, I Avill call for you at eleven, as
I shall have a fly, and shall be passing through the Park.
If you can spare from eleven till two, it would interest the
190 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
class to see you ; and T should be glad to drop my go^vn,
and put it on you. The king is dead : long live ihe hing !
"T. B."
Dr. Ealeigli's lectures at New College were rede-
livered in a subsequent year to the students of the Lan-
cashire Independent College, and those who heard them
give abundant testimony to the eager interest and close
attention with which the course was followed. The
composition of these lectures led their author to put on
record some valuable results of his own pastoral experi-
ences; and the following extracts are given at con-
siderable length, because they contain an unconscious
commentary on his own preaching, more complete and
satisfactory than any other hand could supply. In
laying down rules for the guidance of others he was
describing the methods by which his own success was
attained.
From the first lecture, which treats of the divine
origin, the dignity, and the perpetuity of the preacher's
office, we extract the following : —
" We cannot hut speak."
" The truth is that the divine authority and perpetuity
of personal religious ministry rest ultimately, not on divine
enactment (although we liave that), not even on divine
example (although that also we have), but on the very
nature of the case. There is no way of spreading the
Gospel so good as this. The living voice, the glowing,
melting features, the kindling eye, the senses all in vivid
and rapid action, to deliver and meetly to express the
meaning of the indwelling soul — what jiossible instrument-
ality can ever supersede or in any Avay rival this 1 "What
LECTURES OX PREACHING. 191
possible intellectual culture, or state of social perfection,
can ever render it unsuitable or unnecessary ? ' We cannot
but speak the things we have seen and heard,' You are
not taking up a discredited and waning profession ; you
are not connecting yourselves with an order of things which
' waxeth old and is ready to vanish away.' That the scope
of the ministry may be somewhat enlarged in the coming
time is likely • enough. That the number of things on which
a Christian minister must touch is being silently multiplied,
is evident to every thoughtful person. Humanity is grow-
ing ; human life is greater — has more need, more restless-
ness, more capacity, more desire. The old simple, peaceful
times (although perhaps they never were so simple or so
peaceful as they are feigned to be) have gone for ever. . . .
All this, surely, sounds not to any of us in our youth and
untried strength, like the home bells of the evening calling
us to rest, but rather as the morning trumpet calling us to
the march and to the battle.
" You are students for the Christian ministry, and you
stand in a singular position. You are doubly separated ;
as Christians from the world, and as Christian ministers —
already so in purpose — from your brethren. They may
pursue their worldly avocations in a religious spirit, your
avocation is religion itself. You are never more to entangle
yourselves with the affairs of this life, that you may please
Him who hath chosen you to be not only soldiers, but
leaders of His militant hosts. You have already in spirit
' bid them farewell who are at home in your house,' and in
all your intercourse with others now you will remember
that you have been selected for special service. You are
now to look onwards Avith the gaze of every faculty, and to
press onwards with the force of .every spiritual principle
and sense, until (if God shall spare you) you reach the
arena of conflict, the field of toil, where the trial of your
192 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
spirit will take place, and the sufficiency of your prepara-
tion ^vill be put to the proof, and Avhere you may either
win immortal renown, or sink under ignominious failure
and defeat.
" ^ A bishop must he hlamclcss as the steward of GocV
'• ' Be instant in season, out of season.'
" ' Endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.'
*' And three times did our Lord's solemn question thrill
the soul of Peter — ' Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou, Me ? '
" Such requirements are severe, and they are intended
to operate as a barrier against the admission into the sacred
office, of insincere or half-hearted men. The world seems,
in our day, to be unfolding its utmost capacities, to have
reserved its most splendid prizes until now, and the Chris-
tian youth of our land are taking their full and fair share
in the competition for wealth and influence. But you are
debarred from all this secular strife. You have chosen
another, a severer path, which never can bring you into
what men call ' a large and wealthy place ' in this life.
You will Avitness your friends, and perchance some of your
youthful companions — not superior to yourself either in
capacity or worth — ascending the steeps of a visible eleva-
tion, while you toil on below, known and appreciated by
none but the humble and the good. They will multiply
the comforts and conveniences of life, and some of them
will be charioted amid its splendours, while you may not
always quite be ' without carefulness.' ...
" The question is, Have you fully counted the cost of
this sacrifice? Can you endure all this 1 Can you endure
it to the end ]
" Let it be conceded that the Avorkl is increasingly, al-
though very slowly, yielding to Christian influences ; that
the Christian minister now has opportunity for the state-
ment of his message and a fair field for the prosecution of
LECTURES ON PREACHING. 193
his work, and that he may secure respect and moral power
among his flock, and in general society where he is known.
But to insinuate that the off"ence of the Cross has alto-
gether ceased, the experience of every earnest minister Avill
emphatically contradict. . . . To be faithful amid the amenities
of modern life, requires — not less but more firmness and
self-sacrifice than are needed to protest against open error
or flagrant vice. And to be yourself ' an ensample to the
flock,' practising what you preach, so that the sound of your
voice shall thrill them like a psalm, and the sight of your
countenance be like a sermon or a prayer — all this is not
easy, is hard to flesh and blood. This is taking up the
cross, and I see not how any one can do it without a pecu-
liar consecration, without a fulness, almost a redundance of
spiritual gift and grace."
In a lecture entitled " Unconscious and Indirect
Preparations for the Ministry," he impressed upon his
students the necessity of keeping up vital connection
between the various interests of their lives, and so
making their business, their books, their enjoyment of
natural beauty, their social converse, contribute to enrich
and give reality to their teaching.
Converse with Nature.
" There are two ways of conversing with nature.
First, there is the outside second-hand way. In composi-
tion and public speaking nothing is easier than to talk of
rising and falling tides, waxing and waning moons, light
and shade, cloud and storm, mountain and valley, and
forest and shore and sea. There are certain analogies in
these things, and certain uses made of them continually ;
every one can fall into the method, and may easily do so
without thinking that he has not himself gone into the
194 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
thing. As grace at sccoiid-liaiid ^voul(l be no man's salva-
tion, so nature at second-hand will be no man's help. . . .
Have you read the life of Jonathan Edwards 1 You will
find a marvellously beautiful part of it, about the time of
his full consecration to God, described by himself. He
walked into the fields. He gazed long on the clouds.
The lightning had no terror for him. The thunder, he
says, was 'exceedingly entertaining.' There was perfect
peace in his soul, and perfect unison between his soul and
nature. I don't know that he was the man to see the
full beauty and variety of nature. But what he saw was
in complete harmony with all he knew (and how much was
that !) of the God of salvation. . . . The love of nature
must be deep and without fear in us, and we must yield
ourselves to her moods and motions and changes. We
must watch the clouds till we feel as if sailing away on
them, as in a celestial ship, towards scenes celestial. We
must sink into the calm of the evening, until the very soul
is fiUed and held as in the tranquillity of God. ..."
Converse loith Books.
" I abstain from anything like minute direction. You
are not boys. You will make your personal choice, guided
by your own sense of duty, in your reading. But I
plead Avith you again to keep open all the ways between
Avhat we call the different spheres of life. Let there be
open and untaxed communication. It is easy enough to
make the pulpit too literary, and no mistake could be
greater than that. No one can draw any line beforehand ;
your own seriousness, your own sense of propriety, must
preserve you from anything like pedantry or literary vanity,
anything which would bring yourself too much to the front,
or hide the glory of the Master whom you preach. . . .
" Lay it down as a certainty, admitting very few, if any,
LECTURES ON PREACHING. 195
exceptions, that fresh, instructive, interesting preaching
for continuance, in our time, is impossible without constant
and careful reading. The human mind is a limited thing :
it can hold so much, which no doubt, by intellectual
chemistry, may be put into a good many combinations, but if
fresh substances are not added to the stock in the form of
new ideas, truths, theories and views of other men, there
will soon come the felt limit of the chemic power ; and
then turn, and stir, and shake, and partly disguise the old
things in the treasures as you will, they will not even look
new. We shall feel them to be old, even as we bring them
forth, and our hearers Avill be apt to remark that for us to
say ' the same things ' to them does not seem to be ' grievous '
to ourselves ; while for them, if not very interesting, it may
perhaps be 'safe.'
" Put plenty of matter into the mind, and leave it there
trustfully. Never be anxious about the assimilation, fur-
ther than this, that you maintain the great life-purpose of
consecrated service to the Lord, clear and high, as the chief
purpose of your life. From that life-purpose, reanimated
continually by divine grace, will go forth a commanding,
assimilating power over all that comes into the mind."
Converse loith Men.
" Even a small flock becomes practically smaller to the
pastor in the matter of free human intercourse, by reason
of a kind of formality which is apt, unknown perhaps to
themselves, to preside over their meetings and communica-
tions. They are, so to say, on their good behaviour. We
see them at their best — what they thinh is their best,
though it may not really be so. With years acquaintance
deepens, and friendship ripens, and love comes. But we
want to know man as man, all kinds of men, and of all
characters. We can't preach and minister in the most
196 ALEXANDER EALEIGH,
efficient manner, even to a little company of saintly souls,
unless we can sometimes surprise them with knowledge of
themselves, which they themselves would never give us if
they could help it. We must get it from other sources — •
out of our own breast, and from intercourse with other
men. . . . Many a one preaches about people who have no
existence, and about things, both good and bad, which are
never done. It is deplorable to hear from the pulpit
descriptions of human character which the describer has
never verified ; and, on the other hand, nothing enables a
preacher more completely to c^uell an audience, and at the
same time to enlist their regard and interest, than a
measure of the Shakespearian power of observing and
describing them as they are.
" Then, further, our communications with men, per-
sonal and social, are to be more or less close and continuous,
in proportion as we find our edification promoted. We
may be quite certain that when association with parti-
cular men begins to cool our inner fervour, or to touch the
simplicity of our faith, or to indispose us to prayer, that
we then know all about such men that we need to know.
Knowledge of men is dearly won at the sacrifice of one
particle of love to Christ. It is noticeable that He mingled
quite freely and without any reserve with men of all kinds.
People trusted Him, and heard Him gladly ; and in a sense
He also trusted them, and moved among them as freely as
the wind bloweth where it listeth. It is also noticeable
that He never hesitated a moment to separate himself from
men when the parting time came. His partings, even with
His disciples, were quick and silent. Now He is speaking
to them, now He is away ! Now thronged by the multi-
tude, and now alone in the mountain-dell. Loving men !
leaving men ! If Ave can glide into society, and then glide
out of it, in any wise like Him — gently, freely, firmly — we
LECTURES ON PREACHING. 197
shall be likely to get the best knowledge of men, and to
turn it to the best account."
The main thesis of the next lecture, "What to
Preach," is an emphatic contradiction of the common
saying that " Eeligion is not dogma but life." Eeligion,
he says, is both dogma and life ; and the two must be
placed before the people in true and just proportion.
" A word of great importance to a preacher, and especi-
ally to a beginner, is the word proportion. The message
we have to give is very express and definite, but it is also
very large and various ; and it is no small part of minis-
terial wisdom so to ' divide the word of truth ' that every
one may ' receive his portion in due season.' The central
truth, the essential Gospel, is the most important thing.
But a centre supposes a circumference, and in this case the
circumference is wide ; indeed it is like the horizon — it
moves on as we approach it. If we are always on our way
to the outlying fields, our ministry will become vague and
thin. If we are always at the centre, it Avill almost inevit-
ably become the centre of less and less. A particular
truth may be preached and preached until it becomes un-
true. No truths stand alone, and least of all the central
truths. They grow, they stretch out on every hand, they
fructify. Let us distinctly understand it — we may preach
the very Cross until it is not the Cross any longer — the
mysterious, glorious, all-related Cross on which the Son of
God reconciled earth and heaven — but just a wooden
crucifix.
" The Church of England secures, or attempts to secure,
the various and well-proportioned presentation of divine
truth in her round of service, her ecclesiastical year, her
Lessons, her Saints' days, her Festivals. But it is all done
198 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
ill ca formal manner — not freely and naturally. All cir-
cumstances, all providences, the minds of the clergy, the
needs of the people, the thoughts of the time — are made to
bend to the inevitable day and the authoritative prescrip-
tion. A more rational and wholesome, probably a more
effectual way, is to take constant note of the needs of the
people and the thoughts of the time. ..."
Having thus exhibited the range of the preacher's
themes, lie passes in the next lecture to the *' Art of
Preaching." The art of speaking is not to be acquired
b}^ any man without thought and practice. And when
a man devotes himself to the study of this art, lie learns
not to disguise his real nature, but rather to develop
and reveal his best self.
Nature and Art.
" In every student for the Christian ministry there
are two preachers — one soon found and easily developed ;
another lying deeper down, as in a grave, from which, alas !
in too many cases there is no resurrection. It is far away,
and you must follow hard and fast and far in order to find.
Do not then say that ' nature is enough.' Nature teaches
one man to drone until the hearers fall asleep ; teaches
another to envelop his meaning in hazy sentences which
even clear heads cannot unravel ; teaches another to say
the best things in a manner, not perliaps to spoil them to
the really thoughtful, but to make it all one to a large pro-
portion of the hearers whether they are good, bad, or
indifferent. But nature, rightly understood, does not teach
slovenliness, or vagueness, or violence, or any imperfection.
We malign the fair preceptress when Ave say so. She
teaches exactness, force, tenderness, brightness — everything
that will make for the end or ends in view, and for the
LECTURES ON PREACHING. 199
purpose of attaining these ends she employs art — which is
only perfected nature — nature in the use of her highest
discipline, with her best instrument in hand, with all
possible preparations and equipments. . . .
" Begin with the body, especially with those members
which are most concerned in the production of effective
public speech. ' All members have not the same office ; '
and we have no right to interchange functions — to make
the nose do half the speaking, or the throat usurp the
work of the lips, or the arms to be literally the ' keepers of
the house,' as though the house were in process of being
assaulted. Take an easy and proper position in the pulpit.
Avoid grotesque, ungainly attitudes. Don't catch at the
cushion as if you were drowning. You are among friends
all predisposed to judge you kindly. You want not to be
seen, but the way to be seen is to be over-conscious of your
physical self. . . . The devotional part of the service,
in which you are one of many looking up to God, will
naturally require a different attitude and aspect from those
which you afterwards assume when you address your
fellow-men. Even here, indeed, some godly care will be
well spent, and will be no way inconsistent with the pro-
foundest reverence. When we are reverent it is worth
while taking means not to seem the opposite — worth while
making the body pray with the soul, by putting it and
keeping it in these worshipful attitudes which have been
adopted, we may say consecrated, in the holy usages of
devout souls in every age.
" Remember it is to those who labour conscientiously
and continuously that God gives success. The art of
preaching is the art of winning souls. It is casting the
Gospel net on the right side of the ship. If, indeed, we
sacrifice to our net, or burn incense to our drag — if we
become very conscious of our supposed expertness, and
200 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
begin to think that Labour such as ours must inherit a
blessing, we spoil all — we lose our labour. But if we keep
in good remembrance that with all our care and pains, we
are only falling in with the great laws of nature and life ;
that there is always an excellence indefinitely high above
any we have yet reached ; that it never is ' by might or
power,' of any human kind, but always by the Divine Spirit
that the results of salvation are achieved ; then we shall be
at once diligent and humble, resolute in our purpose, and
self-renouncing in our reliance on God."
The following lecture dealt with "Expository
Preaching," which is explained to mean, uot mere
grammatical analysis, or verse -by -verse commentary,
but full and vivid explanation of some passage as a
whole, which must be given by methods different from
those of the " topical sermon," wdiich takes a verse
without regard to context, and perhaps treats it simply
as a motto : —
" The first sermon I ever ventured to preach was an
exposition of the 1 st Psalm. It was in a cottage a mile or
two above Blackburn, on a Sunday evening. The cottage
was filled to the door with simple people — sharp enough,
too, some of them were. And I got through in some kind
of way. It was a poor thing, of course, but it was the be-
ginning of what has been to me a very pleasant and advan-
tageous habit of my ministry, which I now most honestly
and earnestly commend to you for yours. ... To take a
book of Holy Scripture, not to skim over the surface of it,
saying good things more or less pertinent, not to perch
here and there on a conspicuous text on which prelection
is easy, but honestly and resolutely to study it from
beginning to end, with a view to knoAv all about it that
LECTURES OX PREACHING. 201
can be known. This is of very great advantage to the
expositor himself. It occurs here to say that hooks are
absolutely indispensable to you. Not many, necessarily.
Of buying, as of making, many books there is no end.
But books with much in them, and adapted to the needs of
the duty or the time. Save in anything rather than in
necessary books — wear a threadbare coat ; live in a smaller
house ; go third - class on the railway ; postpone the
marriage day — anything rather than a famine in necessary
books. . . .
" The expository method lessens the trouble and
anxiety connected with the finding of texts. This method
alone brings out the full meaning of the Divine Word. And
it is not a small advantage of this method that it gives
the preacher an opportunity of giving, it may be, much-
needed teaching, on special, on delicate, on difficult subjects.
Take such a subject by selection — the sermon is open to
the immediate suspicion that there is some special cause for
it. ' What has happened 1 Who can be meant ] Ah ! I
know, or at least I have a suspicion.' This danger of
possible malign application has a deterrent effect on a high-
minded man in the pulj)it. The expository method gives
the opportunity to do naturally and in the usual course
what could not otherwise be done without exciting
unprofitable curiosity, and leading to gossiping remark,
perhaps even awaking passion and prejudice in violent
degree. ..."
The verses cliosen to illustrate this passage are 3
John 9, " Diotreplies, who lovetli to have the pre-emi-
nence," and Phil. iv. 2, " I beseech Euodias, and be-
seech Syntyche, that they be of one mind in the Lord."
" In this way better than in any other, the interest of
freshness and variety may be maintained in the congrega-
202 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
tion. These will not listen unless they are interested, and
the maintenance of a real interest is made difficult by the
enormous and ever-growing competition, as we may call it,
with the pulpit ; not designed by those who exercise it, but
quite as effective as if it were. , . ."
The next lecture of the course deals witli the
" topical sermon," before alluded to. It is entitled
" On Finding and Choosing a Text," and the practice of
preaching from texts is supported by arguments drawn
from the practice of preachers of old — Ezra, the
Apostles, and our Lord Himself — and from the nature
of the case.
" When they send the sheep and cattle out to pasture
on the uplands of Norway, a bell is hung round the neck
of each lest they should be lost in the pine-Avoods or among
the rocks and snows. When you go with or send your
sermon forth, take a good ringing text, hang the bell
round the neck of it. If it be lost, or if you lose your-
self in it, they will find you by the bell ; and kindly people
■will be able at least to say, ' He had a beautiful text.'
" I would earnestly advise you to begin your ministry
with the use of a book of texts. As you live and preach,
it will get filled ; and, in the course of years, will not only
yield you many needed and seasonable helps, but Avill recall
some outlines of your own mental and spiritual history.
There are texts from Avhich I preached twenty or even thirty
years ago which, as often as I read them, bring back some
of the glow of my youth, and some of the hopes and
tremors of my early ministry, — while faces, long since
vanished from these mortal scenes, seem for the moment to
look upon me again."
Tlie disquisition on texts leads naturally to the next
LECTURES ON PREACHING. 203
lecture, " The Plan and Growth of a Sermon." Follow-
ing the familiar order of books on rhetoric, Dr. Ealeigli
speaks first of the Exordiurn, which should be brief, and
then of the Proposition, which should be as clear as
language can make it.
" We ought to be very stern with ourselves at the pro-
positional point ; and if our own purpose is not definite
enough, we ought to make it so. If to our view there
lies a haze on the meaning, we ought by all means to try
to clarify the air. I believe in a haze (although it is the
special aversion of some), a rich, mellow haze, in which the
subject lies indistinctly, but perhaps the more grandly and
impressively. But there is place for everything, as well
as time ; and a haze is out of place within the statement of
a subject for discourse.
" After the Proposition comes the Proof, which should
be very intelligible, perfectly fair, and based as far as pos-
sible on unchallengeable truths of general experience. Last
comes the conclusion, which should be personal and prac-
tical. All speculation and eloquence not bearing on the
end should be carefully avoided, and when the end is
reached the preacher should gather up his strength for the
final effort.
" He should feel like the soldier who comes at last to
the very citadel of the enemy's strength. Do not start at
the figure. For, indeed, our hearers are in a sense our
enemies in every discourse, even when they are our loving
friends. "VVe wish to produce certain beliefs, convictions,
resolutions which they have not, or have not in full
measure and strength. Ah, how often do we come up to
the strongholds, without pulling them down 1 How often
do we survey and reconnoitre, and challenge in high enough
language, yet fail to make the actual assault, or, making it,
204 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
full to succeed 1 AYc need our whole strength at the close
of a sermon ; all our godliness, and all our manliness, and
all our wisdom, and all our courage, and all our love."
Besides giving these counsels on the subject of
preaching, Dr. Raleigh took occasion to speak of other
pastoral duties — the conduct of church meetings, super-
vision of classes, etc.- He strongly advised the students
not to be over-anxious about a settlement, and not to
abridge their course of study. Speaking of the condi-
tions in which pastoral work may be most happily
begun he says : —
"Some settlement holds all your future in it, and it
would be most unnatural, and in no way gracious, to be
able to say that you care nothing whatever about it. You
do care, and you ought to care — in a measure. And then,
when the line of that measure is touched, to quench all the
anxieties that remain in this, ' He careth for me.' Have
patience. The call will come — one or more. Direction
will be given you. The little home of your young man-
hood will open its doors to you soon enough ; and its
chief grace — often too in the early years of ministry — its
chief Care-taker, will come to you in due time.
" If you begin your ministry where you may see the
blossoming hedgerows and the waving corn, and the birds
l)uilding, and the cattle browsing ; where you may walk
through the solemn gloom of a neighbouring wood, or go
up to some hill-top and survey earth and sky, and take
draughts of saving health along with the purer air, think
yourself happy. The congregation may be small, but the
interests concerned are never small. The people may be
simple and easily satisfied ; our own conscience ought
never to be easily satisfied. Feed well the few sheep in
LECTURES ON PREACHING. 205
the wilderness, if they are only a few at first, and the
Chief Shepherd will think you worthy of a larger care.
" For all this you must have time, and in order to have
it you must resolutely take it and keep it and use it for
this high and holy purpose. . . . We live now in the heart
of a multitudinous and distracting sociality. Keeping even
within the sphere of meetings understood to be religious —
'their name is legion.' Now it would be neither possible
nor proper for a young man, in the first years of his
ministry, to live outside of all this and to alternate (as
some of the Puritan ministers did) between study and
pulpit — coming out from the study as from a hermit's cell,
and standing in the pulpit as on a prophet's watch-tower.
Our people will have us among them, and we ought to go ;
but with reserve — and fixed determination that adequate
time shall be left to enable us to feed them with knowledge
and understanding.
" The feeding of the flock, however, is not all accom-
plished in the pulpit. The young especially should be met
in class. The power of personal presence is perhaps never
greater than when it is felt by open, simple-hearted young
people and impressionable little children. In this, as in so
much else, the Master Himself shows us the way. ' They
brought young children to Jesus.'
" The minister who sees the young of the flock passing out
of the congregation and into life undeclared and undecided,
or, if remaining, careless in spirit and useless in life, ought
to feel that within that sphere his ministry is a failure.
There may be usefulness in other spheres ; but here, along
the main line of his work, is barrenness. For this he
ought to mourn like Rachel, Avhen she wept for her children,
refusing to be comforted. When the ministry is a blessing
to the young of the flock, as I trust your ministries will be,
they will consecrate themselves unto the Lord. And they
206 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
should be encouraged to do so in all simplicity; and without
requiring from them anything beyond the assurance which,
in some way, can be easily enough reached, that they do
consecrate themselves, sincerely and heartily, to God,
through Jesus Christ. I am persuaded that the word
* conversion ' plays too large a part in the ministry of some
men. The silent assumption, or perhaps the ostentatious
and continual declaration, that every one must be con-
verted, and must know when and how he was converted,
and be able to tell it to others — all this is not a little
perplexing and discouraging to some of the young. And
it ought to be very puzzling to the minister himself if he
would look beyond his theory and consider the real facts.
Many good young people have never been consciously con-
verted, in the technical sense of the word, but they are in
the converted state. To be in the state — that is the vital
thing — to trust, to love, to obey the Lord Jesus Christ, to
be children of God through Jesus Christ, to have begun
the endeavour to live an unselfish, useful life — what more
can we ask for than this — what more have we a right to
demand V
The lessons of these lectures were enforced by
arguments and suggestions communicated in a less
formal way. Dr. Ealeigli would hear one of the students
read a sermon, and would criticise it candidly, but with
due regard for the feelings of the author. Once he
invited all the students to send him MS. sermons,
which were returned after a few weeks with a written
criticism on each one. The duties of the class were
thus a considerable addition to the labour of a minister
in full work.
CHAPTEE XV.
METHODS OF THE PREACHEK.
" How sure it is
That, if we say a true word, instantly
"Wc feel 'tis God's, not ours, and pass it on,
Like bread at sacrament we taste and pass,
Nor handle for a moment. "
E. B. Browning.
In the preceding chapter some of the lines which Dr.
Ealeigh followed in doing his work have been indicated
by himself. Some further account of his methods and
of the impression made upon others by his teaching
naturally finds a place here.
He was one of those who are ' given of God prophets
and teachers ;' but his power came to him, so to speak,
in the rough, and was fashioned for use by long and
patient toil. He was always working up to an ideal
far in advance of his actual attainment. "What a
glorious thing it is to preach Christ," he said within a
few days of his death, "I have only just found out
how to do it." He had chosen his life-work, and his
passionate desire to do it worthily became the " master-
light of all his seeing." Yet, with all this endeavour,
none felt more than he the powerlessness of human
208 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
effort without the eflectual energy of the Spirit of God.
This it was which led him to say that he " never felt
ready for the pulpit," and explains his constant care to
secure moments of solitude and silence before entering
it.
None who knew Dr. Ealeigh will be surprised to
find him laying stress on the love of Nature/ and on
knowledge of Humanity, as characteristics of the ideal
preacher. He was himself a close and sympathetic
observer of both. Even in London he found enough of
Nature to keep his interest alive, and in his holidays he
was continually laying up stores for future use. Special
inspiration seemed to come to him from the mountains.
He climbed hills with the eager pleasure of a boy, rejoiced
in the exhilaration of the pure upper air ; and in the lone-
liness of the wind-swept uplands, he walked as in the
very presence of God. Heaven itself, to his imagina-
tion, was a glorious hill-country. " In heaven's pure
air they run and are not weary ; on heaven's grand hills
they walk and do not faint,"
The knowledge of human nature which Dr. Ealeigh
commends to his students enabled him to enter into
the daily life and ways of thinking of those with whom
he had to deal. He never spoke as from a height above
them ; he could put himself side by side with any poor
pilgrim on the world's highway, stoop down and help
him to lift his dusty burden, and show him that even
on his lowly road some gleams lighten and quiver from
the far-off city of God. The unbelieving and the sinful
were startled to find that he could make his way in on
METHODS OF THE PREACHER. 209
some open side of their nature, to remind them of the
better selves they had almost forgotten, and his hearers
recognised tlieir own likeness in his graphic pictures,
and wondered to see what manner of men and women
they were.
He had a reverent tenderness for all livmg tilings.
He did not even like to see a flower rudely plucked.
Once, when a boy, he threw a stone at a bird ; but his
feeling, when the little creature fell dead to the ground,
was not one of satisfaction but of bitter remorse. In
telling the incident he said, " That was the last stone I
ever threw at a bird." It was his sympathy with all
nature that gave their peculiar charm to many of his
illustrations. His friends remember the broad yellow
leaf which he had picked up by the way, and which he
brought into the pulpit to illustrate his text, " "We all
do fade as a leaf." And some of his Kensington people
still speak of " Dr. Ealeigh's bird," whose broken song,
heard in HoUand Lane as he passed to chapel one mild
Christmas morning, seemed to him like the promise we
have here, in our wintry life, of the Eternal Spring.
He drew on his own experience when he spoke to
his students of the use of books. Besides his studies in
divinity, he read biography, poetry, the best novels and
periodical literature ; nor did he confine himself to what
was written on his own side of any question. Some
one expressing in his presence the opinion that it is
dangerous for a Christian to read books opposed to
revealed religion, he said that "the propriety of such
reading depended on the character of the person, and on
p
210 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
the circumstances in wliicli he was pLaced ;" adding, " I
read many books that I do not agree with, because, as
a minister, I feel bound to do so. How could I preach
if I did not?"
The honesty of his nature led him to look at all
sides of truth, and to hide or disguise nothing which he
saw to be an actual element in any question. The
" stern faithfulness in the soul of the man," which dis-
tinguished his father Thomas Ealeigh, seems to have
come down to him — a nobler inheritance than broad
acres would have been.
On this subject his friend, ]\Ir. James Anstie, of Lin-
coln's Inn, writes : —
" His sincerity always seemed to me a leading charac-
teristic in Dr. Ealeigh's preaching. Honesty and earnest-
ness may present in a rude mould rich and genuine thought
and feeling ; but vigorous thinking and subtle discernment
seem needed to give to their lines and features that clearness,
fulness, and truth that inspire us with the idea of sincerity.
And it was in this way that Dr. Ealeigh differed from many
honest and earnest men. He seemed less content than any
preacher I ever listened to, to accept for truth either a half-
tnith or a vague uncertainty, to ignore a difficulty because
he could not. solve it, or to mahe a truth where he only
recognised a difficulty, or indeed to take anything for any-
thing else but just what it was. Yet his love of clearness
never seemed to be a reason for stiffening the outline that
lie drew, or exaggerating the precision or exactness of its
features. He seemed ever trying to widen and clear his
horizon; his sound and strong judgment meanwhile not
suffering him to lose sight of his direct practical aims; and
thus he often seemed to skirt the coasts of the unknown
METHODS OF THE PREACHER. 211
and the infinite, conscious of their presence, but still holding
on his course amidst the ascertained realities of divine and
human life and action.
" It Avas the same sincerity and candour that made him
so exact and discriminating, and where not exact, so kindly
a judge of human act and character, and at the same time
so resolute and undeceivable a maintainor of the principles
of right and justice. It seemed to me also that the same
quality, working through a rich poetic vein, gave its felici-
tous truth and exactness to the more purely imaginative
element of his style. He did not send his thoughts out
into the fields to pull flowers, even natural flowers, for the
purpose of rhetorical embellishment ; but his soul went out
to dwell there, and enlarging itself with the parabolic signifi-
cance of Nature, learned to express itself in that language.
" I cannot express more clearly what I think and feel
about the simple sincerity of Dr. Raleigh than by saying
that if we could suppose him present, while those who
knew and loved him were trying to convey to others their
sense of what he Avas, I could imagine him to say, ' Well,
if it is in any way profitable to study my life and method,
it must be because they are true ; I strove to make them
so ; and if you think it useful to describe them, so be it ;
but let it be as true, and not as mine.^ But I think
in George Herbert's poem Constancy a great artist has
already drawn his portrait, more than 200 years ago, true
not only in general description, but in some singularly
minute touches."
In regard to the subject-matter of liis preaching his
own words may be quoted once more.
" I hold tenaciously to the old faith — I desire to pos-
sess as much as possible of the new culture. I turn, or
wish at least to turn, with entireness of trust to God's
212 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
unchanging Gospel, centred and summed up in the Cross ;
and I determine to know nothing among men, and nothing
among books and theories, but Jesus Christ and Him
crucified.
" I look out on God's ever-changing world, and teem-
ing providence, and feel the need of new lights, gifts, and
graces from above, to make perception delicate and true,
and to secure a just and profitable application of the un-
changing Gospel to the ever-changing hearts and circum-
stances of men. I distrust all philosophical explanations
of Scrij)ture mysteries, and thankfully accept them in their
mysteriousness, as the divinely-declared ground and means
of salvation, and as but parts of a vaster system, into the
largeness and glory of which we shall enter hereafter,
" But while thus holding and defending the old truth,
which modern innovation and temerity would explain or
steal away, I am persuaded that it may be held and
preached so as to be consonant and congenial with every
element and aspect of a true human progress. Without
compromise and without fear, we must declare the doctrines
of the Cross, for they alone are the power of God unto
salvation. But with a kindly hand Ave must touch all
human relations, and with sympathies caught from the
Elder Brother we must carry this healing Gospel into the
joyous and the suffering experiences of this mortal life."
This passage indicates the essential features of Dr.
Ealeigli's teacliing, and gives some idea of the extent
and variety of the subjects over which it ranged. He
always refused to admit that any region of life and
thought lay wholly outside the preacher's domain. He
was not afraid to enter even the field of political con-
troversy when he believed that principles of justice or
humanity were at stake. He never assumed the sacer-
METHODS OF THE PREACHER 213
dotal riglit of dictating liis people's opinions, but he
thought it his duty to apply the lessons of the Word of
God to the current politics of the day, as well as to
other subjects. He spoke out, as has been seen, boldly,
what he thought of the issues involved in the American
civil war. In reference to the agitation for the enfran-
chisement of the working classes, and to the struggle
between capital and labour, we find him saying, " If
one peril glooms more darkly than another just now, it
is the peril of having great gulfs, visible to every eye,
in English society — the peril of having a sharp and
bitter separation of classes, of having two or three
nations in England instead of one." From his Kensing-
ton pulpit more than once or twice he protested against
what he felt to be the unrighteous policy of the day,
the policy which led to the annexation of Cyprus and
the invasion of Afghanistan,
While public events claimed from him some char-
acteristic utterance, the changing times and seasons of
human life often suggested subjects for his teaching.
Christmas or Easter — " a time of much rain," or the first
fall of the snow — led his thoughts into familiar chan-
nels ; and even circumstances in his people's history —
joys of marriage, or sorrows of death or separation —
were touched with delicate sympathy.
We quote the words of Sir Eisdon Bennett, his
friend during many years : —
" The hopeful and encouraging strain of his preaching
contributed largely to his success. This, while it never
impaired his fidelity in declaring the whole counsel of God,
214 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
and apart from the literary beauty of his style, gave hiin a
hold on his hearers such as few preachers have ever acquired.
" But probably no feature of his pulpit oratory has left
a deeper impression on the memory of those who were
privileged regidarly to attend his ministry than his use of
his exquisite power of Pathos. By the choice of a word, a
brief parenthetic sentence, an unexpected pause, an alteration
of tone, or even by a gesture, he would thrill the whole
audience. And as such pathetic touches frequently had
reference to the special circumstances of some of his llock,
they were sometimes overpowering to those whose hearts
most quickly responded. Xo traveller — whether youth in
the bloom of promise, or aged pilgrim — crossed the river,
no Httle spirit joined the angel-choir, who was not followed
by some tender allusion, some word of comfort or thanks-
giving, uttered as prayer or praise."
The element of ever-springing hopefulness was, in-
deed, one of the best things in his teaching. People
went away feeling glad and strong, braced for work and
nerved for conflict. They felt as if they had breathed
inspiring air on the liill-tops he loved so much, and as
if they had got, for one blessed hour, above the mists of
doubt and the fogs of circumstance. To be good seemed
easy, and oh ! how grand and satisf}Tng the salvation
of God !
It remains to speak of the methods by which the
results of study and observation were made available
in the work of composition. Dr. Ealeigh liked to have
his subject chosen some days before he began to write.
As soon as supper was over on Sunday evening — the time
METHODS OF THE PEEACHER. 215
of all others when he was brightest and most at ease —
he would say, " Xow a text for next Sunday ! " When
that point was settled, he could read up to his subject
and gather in for it from all quarters. He was always
working for the pulpit — " always," as a brother minister
said of him, " either fishing or mending his nets." On
Wednesday afternoon, or even sooner, he would begin
to WTite, and the work went on as swiftly and steadily
as interruptions would permit. In the Hare Court days
attempts were made to keep Friday and Saturday free
of visitors, but these endeavours were not, on the whole,
successful. Once it was Mr. Binney, who put aside the
servant with an iiTesistible " Oh, I know all about your
Fridays ;" and very often people of less consequence than
Mr. Binney would petition to be admitted — a petition
which Dr. Pialeigh could never refuse, although he has
said, " My chain of thought gets broken, and the spell
of it is gone, so that a ten minutes' iaterruption means
sometimes a loss of hours." He could not write unless
he was in quietness and alone — the only interruption he
could hear without annoyance was the sound of little
feet overhead or on the stairs.
For many years he wrote two sermons every week,
and he continued to do so after he had piles of MSS.
beside him which he might have used. Indeed, he
could not preach an old sermon in the ordinary sense of
the words. If he availed himself, as he often did
latterly, of a former manuscript, he recast and altered
it to bring it into harmony with his present thinking, so
that the labour was almost as great as if it had been
21G ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
new. His sermons of the last ten years of Lis life
were generally dashed off with a very rapid pen, and
cost him less time than his earlier ones. No doubt his
working power would have been greater in some ways
if his ideal had been less high. Mr. Binney once said
to him, " Ealeigh, you will ruin your health because you
nave not the moral courage to preach a poor sermon."
But it would be equally true to say that his inability
to do less than his best was the secret of his success.
Most of his finished sermons are distinguished by a
carefully-written title, and some of these are striking
and suggestive. Turning over the fading MSS. we read
such as these—" The Ptight-on Look," " Great by Ser-
vice," " That which concerneth us," " Forthwith," " Child
Victors," " He knoweth not how to go to the city."
The subjects are as various as the patlis over which his
mind travelled for thirty years.
On Saturday afternoon, if his work was finished,
Dr. Ealeigh generally took a long walk. In earlier and
less busy days he used to read the manuscript to his
wife on Saturday evenings, and would talk the subject
over. On Sunday mornings he was very silent — he was
too absorbed and sometimes too oppressed by the weight
of his work to enter into conversation. He set off for
Chapel nearly an hour before the time of service, alone,
or accompanied by one of his children. He was always
robed for the pulpit some few minutes before it was
time to enter it, and then the deacon in attendance left
him.
Mr. Forsaith, liis friend and one of the deacons of
METHODS OF THE PEEACHER. 217
Hare Court, says, " Occasionally I have liad to go to
him again, and have found him pacing backwards and
forwards, his whole soul absorbed in what he was about
to engage in. At such times there was a look on his
face which it is very difficult to describe. It seemed
like a gleam from the other world. I used, when I saw
it, to be ahiiost aw^ed by it, and having once left him,
never went back again without great reluctance, lest the
intrusion should dispel the communion he was having."
Such experiences recall the words of a recent writer : ^
" At some rare moments of the Divine Spirit's suprem-
acy in our souls, we all put on the heavenly face that
will be ours hereafter, and for a brief lightning space
our friends behold us as we shall look when ' this
mortal ' shall have put on immortality."
To Dr. Ealeigh's prayers some reference has already
been made. The solemnity and spiritual beauty that
pervaded them cannot easily be described. He never
prepared them beforehand, but sought time for medita-
tion that thought and feeling might be ready to rise to
God when he led the devotions of others. "His
prayers," in the words of one of his Kensington
people (Mr. Thomas Walker, late of the Daily News),
" were so profoundly spiritual, and at the same time so
human, keeping fast hold of heaven by faith, and of
earth by sympathy, that I have thought, uniting as they
did .the depth and richness of some of the best prayers
that have come down to us consecrated by time, and the
spontaneousness and freedom which we wisely prize,
1 Miss F. Kemble.
218 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
his prayers solved a problem which is sometimes pre-
sented to us by the developiii<4' tastes of our own days."
When his text M'as given out, and the sermon begun,
he went to work with a genuine perception of the means
by which the attention and confidence of a large audi-
ence may be won. His subject was stated with great
simplicity and directness; there were no technical
phrases — no long monotonous sentences. He used
plain speech, and if any point had to be argued, it was
discussed without unfairness or exaggeration. He was
always clear in stating his opinions, and confident in
the strength of the cause which he defended, but he
never irritated his opponents by assuming that his own
opinion was the only reasonable one. He made great
allowance for the views and circumstances of others,
and some of his more eager hearers used sometimes
even to feel a little impatience at his absolute, judicial
impartiality. In the words of his early friend Dr.
]\Iellor, " He had his strong behefs, but he knew that
others, equally candid with himself, had their strong
beliefs also ; and they never heard liim sound one note
of suspicion or intolerance. . . . Hence he had great
sympathy with all honest doubters ; not the men who
make a parade of their doubts as if they were proud of
finding no rest in anything, nor the men who seek for
reasons for unbelief that they may avoid the obligations
of duty and self-denial — but the men who passionately
long for solid ground for the structure of their immortal
hopes. For these he had nothing but the tenderest and
most sympathetic words. He had known struggle and
METHODS OF THE PKEACHER. 219
doubt, and defeat and victory, and he gave tliem a
brother's hand and heart. He did not tell them that
truth was of no moment, that it mattered little whether
they ever found it or not if they only sought it. No ;
his was no such indifference. These," continues Dr.
Mellor, "are his own words, 'So long as you simply
reason you are looking westwards — where light only
fades away and dies before the gazing eye. When you
put all your mind and heart into the truth you know,
and resolve in the strength of the grace you already
believe in, to be true to that truth and all its require-
ments, and to seek the higher and further truth until
you find it, then you turn eastwards, and ere long the
morning you look for will be on your face.' "
His bearing in the pulpit was that of a man assured
of his position ; he stood erect, using but little gesture,
and he was always sufficiently independent of the manu-
script before him to look his people in the face. As
the sermon reached its culminating point, his whole
frame seemed to be dominated by his spirit, and he
spoke by his attitude and his countenance as well as by
his words. His utterance was deliberate, his voice had
a thrill of conviction in it, and sometimes, as if to give
liimself and his hearers time to realise their position, he
would pause, and stand some moments in a very im-
pressive silence.
But perhaps the most characteristic qualities of his
preaching were perceived only when he had laid down
and secured liis doctrinal position, and sought to carry
the truth home by personal appeal. With tact and
220 ALKXAXDEll EALEIGIT.
skill he drew out and encouraged the Letter impulses
of those whom he addressed ; with keen penetration he
set a mark on the untrue and worthless, and with some-
times a touch of irony he taught us to know the evil
under all its disguises. The force of these appeals was
due in no small measure to the moderation and reserve
of the preacher. It was apparent that he knew and
felt much more than he expressed. He never assumed
to exhaust his subject; he was always conscious of
aspects and modifications of the truth to which he
could not do justice within the compass of his sermon.
He anticipated questions in the minds of his hearers
which he might not be able to answer, and therefore he
w^ould not hurry them to a decision, and stake the in-
terests of the truth on the success of his own appeal.
And even when he spoke the words of sympathy and
consolation which go straight to the heart of our
humanity, he recognised that there is in each man's
soul a region which is not to be taken by assault ; he
would not press forward even to console ; rather, lil^e
his Master, he " stood at the door and knocked."
Towards the close of the year his preaching became
more direct and personal in its aim. He longed 'to see
some fruit of his labour before another stage of it was
concluded, and to begin the new year with some new
faces among those who gathered round the Lord's Table.
His earnestness seemed to deepen with the deepening
darkness of winter, and he has said that then, more
than at any other time, God gave him the "joy of
harvest."
METHODS OF THE PREACHEE. 221
The ]\Iontlily Communion Sunday was always begun
with a service and sermon specially chosen as suitable
to the day. The Communion service itself was short ;
often no word of exhortation was spoken beyond the
Scriptural sentences which record the institution of the
Feast. Of his sacramental prayers, of the brooding
silence that seemed to wait for the Master, of the
hushed emotion that pervaded the company of worship-
pers, it is impossible to speak without a sense of
inadequacy. At such times his countenance was
kindled and lighted with a radiance born of love and
faith ; he wore his " far look," as one of his people called
it, and seemed, even with mortal sight, to see the things
that are invisible.
We add some recollections of his ministry, again
from the pen of Mr. Forsaith.
" Although, as a general rule, he felt an intense delight
in his work, there were times when he trembled to enter
the pulpit. He has told me that often when he had got
into the pulpit he felt as if he must rush down again and
hide himself. On one occasion the feeling manifested
itself in a remarkable manner. I was in attendance upon
him, and was about to leave him when he said, somewhat
suddenly, *I wish you would speak to the people this
morning.' I suppose my look expressed astonishment, for
he immediately added, ' I mean it would be a good thing
if the people would at times listen to the heart-utterances
of a Christian brother. T will give way to you directly
if you will speak.' On my repljang ' No ; it is im-
possible,' he acquiesced, and I left him. That morning
we had an unusually brilliant sermon.
222 ALEXANDER EALEIGII.
" This strange request was the result, doubtless, of one
of those i)assing hesitations which all earnest and highly-
wrought natures have in connection with their work.
" Dr. Ealcigh's jmssion for preaching was, I should sa}',
the ruling influence of his life, and I believe coloured his
imaginings of the joys and occupations of heaven. After
his return from America there was a great meeting at Hare
Court to welcome him. In the course of the observations
I had to make I referred to jjossible gatherings of a some-
what similar kind in heaven — when some glorified spirit
might come back from a distant part of God's dominions
to recount what he had seen or done, and to give in
stirring discourse some fresh revelation of God. When
the meeting was over Dr. Raleigh referred to what I had
said, and remarked to me, ' I have often thought that ; I
believe I shall preach in heaven, it would not be heaven
to me if I did not.'
"During the whole time of my intercourse with him
I never knew him but once to labour under anything like
religious depression, and that was when he was in the full
tide of his popularity at Hare Court. Several of the
deacons were in his vestry Avith myself, and some one of
us said, I think, that he did not seem quite well. He
replied, ' Yes, I am well in body, but not in soul. God is
not withholding from me some gleams of comfort and
support, but I am very low and dark, and I fear my work
will fail.' We were all silent for a moment — it seemed so
strange that he should be in darkness — and then one of the
elder of the deacons tried to comfort him. We all loved
him so that I verily believe we would have given our own
souls to ransom his."
CHAPTEE XVI.
HARE COURT AND STAMFORD HILL — PRESSURE OF WORK.
" AVhen my heart beats too quick I think of Thee,
And of the leisure of Thy long eternity."
Faber.
Soon after Dr. Ealeigli's return from Switzerland in
1870 it was proposed to found a second cliurch in
fellowship with Hare Court — of equal strength — and
sharing with it the services of two pastors. A body
of friends, who were about to build a chapel at Stam-
ford Hill gladly agreed to make the experiment of a
double church, and it was hoped that by sharing the
labour of preaching with a co-pastor, more real work
might be done at less cost of strength. It was proposed
that each minister should preach once on Sunday in
each chapel, repeating the same sermon in both places,
and dividing the pastoral work as might seem best.
Dr. Ealeigh had often wished that congregational
churches could have preachers and pastors — a preacher
to devote his whole energy to the pulpit, and a second
minister whose gifts might lie more in a pastoral direc-
tion. The scheme now proposed, although not exactly
in the line of his ideal, promised weU. His people at
224 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
Hare Court seconded him with liberality and goodwill
— and this was much for them to do, for the new
church was to deprive them, to some extent, of their
minister's presence and service.
" This effort," he said to his people afterwards, " of
raising a Christian church on Stamford Hill has been
our last and best. It would have been done without
us ; good men there had designed to do it, but our
adhesion gave the movement shape and impetus and
enlargement, and thus far good success. It was un-
dertaken, first and chiefly, for the extension of the
kingdom of Christ. It was on this ground alone that
I could take ser^dce in the matter, and any relief to
me had legitimately only a secondary place. And I
think there is no more honourable page in the records
of Hare Court than that which shows that it gave its
money, and for years a good part of its minister, to
form and build up another church."
He attended many preliminary meetings, in which
the plan was matured to its ultimate issue. There
were many interests to be considered, many wishes and
opinions to be combined in united action, and one who
was present at these meetings records "the patience,
gentleness, and uniform fairness which marked every-
thing he did."
The beautiful church on Stamford Hill began to
rise in the spring of 1871, and while it was building
his favourite afternoon walk was generally in that
direction. He loved it from the first ; it was essentially
the material embodiment of his own thought, and he
HARE COURT AND STAMFORD HILL, ETC. 225
used to say that he "took pleasure m the very stoues
thereof."
In October 1871 the new church was opened, Mr.
Binney preaching on the occasion. Dr. Ealeigh's first
sermon on the Sunday morning following was from the
text, " And Jacob's well was there."
We give some of its leading thoughts : —
^^ All deep and great influence is the result of labour —
.personal labour. Jacob dug this well himself, not with his
own hands, although, no doubt, his o^vn hands were busy
about it many a time as the work went on. But it was
his thought — it was done by his direction— went on to
completion under his sight. And it was a great Avork for
one man to do. The well is hewn in the solid rock, and is
105 feet deep and 9 feet in diameter. Think of that — for
the time, the place, and the person. The thing was done,
depend upon it, with great labour and difficulty; but it
was the more valuable and the more lasting when done.
For the foundation of a house, or the bottom of a well,,
there is nothing equal to the Rock . . . Jacob's well was dug
by Jacob — and yours must be dug by you if you are to have
one called after your name. If you are to have a whole-
some, personal influence while you live, and after you die ;.
if you are to confer anything in the shape of a great benefit
upon others, you yourself must do it. . . . You must know
the brunt of difficulty, and pant hard at the spell of work,
and dig in the rock deep and deeper still, until the answer
to some happy stroke shall be the gushing stream. . . .
"Grod makes new times for each generation of men,
sets new tasks to be done, and asks from each person new
toils of head and heart and hand — asks that each shall,
himself, in passing over the solemn stage of this human
Q
226 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
life, do his o\vn generation-work, and thus prove himself to
be a true son of the Eternal Father, a true brother and
follower of the ' Elder Brother,' who tells us that the ever-
lasting law of the universe, embodied in the continuous
habit of , God, and to be embodied in the life and habit of
all His true children, is this — ' My Father worketh hitherto,
and I work.' . . .
" 'A good thing done lives on and, on,' like a well to which
successive generations come to draw. ' Jacob's well was
there ' — long after Jacob himself had been gathered to his
fathers. In every age it had been useful, and now at last
it is turned to its sublimest use, and is literally immortalised,
however soon in itself it may be filled with the drifting
sand or go to ruin. Ah ! if the old patriarch could have
foreseen — M'hen he was toiling hard on the rock, deep down,
and looking daily for the springing water — that the Saviour
of the world would one day sit on the avcU's mouth and
talk, not merely to a woman who came to draw, but to
the whole world and to all ages, of the water of life, and
of Himself as the ' gift of God ' — his heart would have
leaped within him for joy, and with a feeling like that
which possessed him when he aAvoke from sleep and
dream, he Avould have cried, ' How dreadful ! ' how solemn
and sacred, yet how blessed, is this place ; this is none other
but a rock of God — this is a Avell of heaven ! . . .
" There is a kind of sadness in thinking how long,
measured by years, our work will outlast ourselves. This
house will probably stand long after we have passed away
— and our children, and our children's children. Baptism
and marriage and funeral-rite will go on through the years,
and still the house will stand — the Sabbath home of pilgrim
people, the centre of a living influence from age to age.
There is a kind of sadness in the contrast : the human life
so fleetincr — the house so firm and abiding ! But in truth
HARE COURT AND STAMFORD HILL, ETC. 227
this is only a fresh testimony to the greatness of man.
We pass away, leaving our earthly temples behind us, hut
it is because we are going to heavenly palaces. . . . "We go,
but our influence stays. Our work prolongs itself. Nothing
good can be lost. Nothing good can die. It may fade
away in one place, but it has gone some whither. It may
die out of one form, but it will find or make another. The
continuities of nature have their counterparts in the higher
continuities of grace. The seed we cast on the waters
we shall find — or others shall find for us — ' after many
days.' . . ."
It was a bitterly cold night in December when the
meeting was held to enrol members in the new church.
Mr. Binney presided, and as he came in from the snow
outside, he replied (somewhat gruffly) to Dr. Ealeigh's
cordial welcome with " You should not have brought me
out in such a night." But, under the influence of the
glowing fire in the vestry and the still more glowing-
hearts of the little company, Mr. Binney forgot the
cold, and spoke with the energy of younger days.
Seventy-four members, many of them from Hare Court,
were enrolled that evening in the church books of
Stamford Hill. The Eev. Henry Simon, now of West-
minster, accepted the invitation to become co-pastor of
the united churches, and such a union seemed to many
peculiarly fit and harmonious. The spiritual insight of
the younger pastor — the moments almost of inspiration
which came to him, were in perfect accord with Dr.
Ealeigh's more definite teaching, and his thoughts fell
on many hearts with a power which is still thankfully
remembered.
228 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
Dr. riiilcigli rejoiced in the growth of the church,
and seemed to get new energy as its strength and use-
fulness increased. Christian work of many kinds was
undertaken by the people, and carried on with zeal
and sonie- good measure of success. And for a time
the plan worked well. But the claims of the double
pastorate were many and various, and the labour seemed
to grow heavier in spite of the relief secured in respect
of preparation for the pulpit. To every one it might
not have been so, but to Dr. Ealeigh, who could not
keep up to his own ideal of preaching without some
quiet and some leisure, and who would reach it at
any cost, the burden of external claims pressed very
heavily. It was found also that the practical difiiculties
in arranging the pastoral work of the ministers in con-
nection with both churches were greater than had
originally been anticipated. But he never would aUow
that the experiment was a failure, or even a "serious
mistake ; " on the contrary, he thought that the success,
on the whole, of Stamford Hill proved that a double
pastorate might be worked with great advantage both
to ministers and churches. No period of his ministerial
work was more delightful to him than the four years
spent as pastor of the united congregations, and we find
him referring to " the aboundmg love " of his people at
Stamford Hill and the " happy Sabbaths spent in their
pleasant sanctuary."
In 1872 an unhappy dispute arose in connection
with the mission work of Hare Court. Dr. Ealeigh
was in no way responsible for the origin of this differ-
HARE COURT AND STAMFORD HILL, ETC. 229
eiice, altliougli, as minister, he was compelled to deal
with it, and to choose a line of action in regard to it.
It must be mentioned here, for it was one of the hardest
trials of his life. He had hitherto been able to over-
come all such difficulties by straightforward simplicity
of purpose and genial wisdom ; but this difficulty was
not to be so vanquished. The people, as a body, never
wavered in their loyalty, but a very limited section
persistently misinterpreted his coiu'se of conduct, and
at last made a sustained attack on his ministerial
character. Accusations w^ere laid before the public in
pamphlets which were well adapted to cause him pain
and annoyance. To these he made no public reply,
and he abstained from judging uncharitably the motives
which led to the attack. He was charged with indiffer-
ence to the Christian work in which his people were
engaged, with arbitrary and unfair conduct of church
business, even with intentional dishonesty and dis-
courtesy. And there can be no doubt that these
statements produced some effect among that numerous
class of persons who think " there must be something "
in bold assertions which are not contradicted. The
experience was new to him, who all his life had made
no enemies. " You have at last," said one of his people
to him, meeting him on the street, " escaped one of the
woes of Scripture, ' Woe unto you when all men speak well
of you! " But he resolved to suffer in silence, because
he knew that the only possible answer to such imputa-
tions was the answer of his own life and the record
of his ministry. He never gave full expression to the
230 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
sharp pain Mliich liis accusers were for some years able
to cause him, but thv Ibllowing letter may serve to show
how this sorrow took the sunshine out of those later
days at Hare Court : ^ —
To Mrs. S. Raleigh, 28th June 1876.
London.
"... I suppose I must rejoice in deliverance from the
periodically ' overflowing scourge,' although I must say I
get a little tired of pursuing the policy of discreet silence
and masterly inaction. A little dust and a few dints
would perhaps do no harm. . . . ' All things work together
for good to them that love God.'
" I have much observed of late how the afternoon of
life is apt to be a little sombre and clouded ; how the best
work of life seems to lose part of its natural well-deserved
recompense. I know and have heard of a good many per-
sonal experiences of tliis kind, l)oth in Church and State.
The real spirit and character of the persons affected are
brought out by such trials. It is a great thing not to lose
faith in God or man — nor charity — nor sweetness — nor
invincible liopefulness : a great tiling to go on tasting life's
simplest pleasures, with something of the old relish, and
hoping for a continuance of them as they may be needed,
and for the joj's at God's riglit hand at length.
" My ' company is gone before.' I saw them off this
morning, and I hope the shades of Granton will cover them
to-night."
1 In reference to this subject, one wlio knew fully the wliole his-
tory and all its details writes : "The self-restraint exercised by Dr,
Raleigh served gi'eatly to strengthen the forbearance of his friends.
In tliis instance Wisdom was signally 'justified ' of her child, by the
ultimate silencing of the faintest whisper of slander."
HARE COURT AND STAMFORD HILL, ETC. 231
His was " the wisdom that is from ahove," which
" is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be
entreated, full of mercy." Only from above could he
have drawn the patience which bore this unaccustomed
trial without being betrayed, even in private, into any
expressions of bitterness. He has left behind him an
accumulation of letters and papers, but there is no
harsh word in them all about any one whom he ever
knew. Dr. Allon, his trusted friend and neighbour,
says of him : " Through the quarter of a century that I
have known him, in many close and delicate relations, I
never knew him to say a word that I could have wished
unsaid, or to do a thing that I could have wished undone."
The following recollections are from the hand of
Mr. E. W. Tait, who was his medical adviser and inti-
mate friend during all his life in London : —
" I think of Dr. Ealeigh as of a dear friend, the com-
panion of my life through more than twenty years, of
whom I came in the course of these years to know enough
to bring him closer to me than any man has come but he.
He still lives to me in the same dear confidence of friend-
ship, but my thoughts and memories of him are little
capable of being expressed ; I can only try to remember
how we came to know his gentle, loving, steadfast nature.
" I first came close to him in the middle of one
February night, when a daughter was born, soon after his
removal to London. I remember, as if it had happened
yesterday, the kind thoughtfulness shown in little expres-
Bions and attentions, the evident though carefully -con-
trolled anxiety, manifested in gentle undemonstrative ways,
I was struck then by what I afterwards recognised among
232 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
liis chief characteristics — liis power of self-detachment and
of apprehending and considering others. This power, used
Avith singvdar dehcacy of perception, was one of the secrets of
his extraordinary influence. He constantly desired to give
to every man and Avoman their due — what, in his estima-
tion, Avas their appropriate portion of his consideration and
loving-kindness. He was not usually impulsive or lavish,
though he could be both. But with all the simplicity and
tenacity of his nature, he held himself to be a steAvard of
the Divine mystery of eternal love, revealed in Jesus
Christ; and so he became literally an 'epistle of Christ,
knoAvn and read of all men.' The motive-poAvers of his
life were of the highest and yet simplest sort ; his passive
energy and staying poAver Avere great, and his steadfastness
unassailable. These qualities Avere, hoAvever, manifested
through a nervous system of unusual susceptibility, ciuick
to all painful impressions as Avell as to those of joy, and
liable to states of extreme exhaustion.
" There Avas this inestimable quality in Dr. Ealeigh, that
one always kncAv Avherc to find him. If months had passed
Avithout seeing him, and avc met again — after a little pre-
liminary shyness and beating about the bush, and my per-
ception that the months had not passed over him Avithout
producing some slight change of mental level or some richer
spiritual colouring — one came directly and surely back upon
the constant nature, the mind and heart essentially un-
changed and unchangeable. He Avas verily ' a strong habi-
tation ' to Avhich one might continually resort, sure of
shelter and Avelcome, and Avhatever help one man may giA^e
to another.
" I recall also the ' infinite humour,' which was com-
bined Avith his Christian Avisdom, in the shreAvd yet kindly
estimates Avhich he formed of the people Avith Avhom he had
to do ; his overfloAving geniality Avhen he Avas able to feel at
HARE COURT AND STAMFORD HILL, ETC. 233
his ease ; his untiring curiosity and keen desire for all honest
knowledge about all things in heaven above and in the
earth beneath, by Avhich, to the end, his interest in life
was kejit fresh and vigorous ; his ungrudging permission of
and loyalty to free thought; and his unfailing charity,
which never really thought evil of person or thing.
"His cajiacity of self -detachment has been spoken of.
The power and gain of it were especially evident during
his last illness. He was able to throw himself into the
political events then occurring, and to forget himself in the
larger interests of his fellow-countrymen, and of the world,
trusting ail-implicitly to that ' Poiver not ourselves which makes
for righteousness.^ The phrase suggests a passing word as
to his favourite aversions, some of which were strong like
his predilections. The definition I have just quoted may
serve for an example. He was never tired of inveighing
against its insufficiency, its cumbrousness, its ugliness,
though no man lived more entirely in its meaning. The
fact that I, in my way, was satisfied with some views of
things which did not satisfy him only made our intercourse
more delightful.
" But it was necessary to be in sore trouble to know him
thoroughly, and to feel the comfort of him. Then, by the per-
fect simplicity of his nature, by the absence of every sort of
pretence and unreality, by the humanity which entered with
you into the depths of your sorrow, and yet led you to feel
that no ' strange thing ' had happened to you, that you were
still in the fellowship of your suffering brethren, still within
the Divine Fatherhood — he became of inexpressible help.
He is still to me a prefigurement (incomplete, but in its
incompleteness containing prophecy and pledge) of that
perfected body of Christ and satisfaction of the Eternal
Father, towards which the Church strives slowly, but to
which she looks with yearning hope.
234 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
" ' He lives among tlic dearest and most sacred figures
of my past and of my future. It is their purity of soul,
their constancy in duty, their tenderness of affection, their
life in God, that joins them to the train of Christ, and
mingles them Avith the lengthening procession of the saints.
Their work is in our hands, may the grace and power of
their spirit be continued in our hearts' !"
To his "Wife (then at DoA-er during the illness of some of
the children), 13th October 1870.
Arran House, London.
" Yesterday was wet and Avindy, and aa'C did not go to
the inaugural lecture, but K is off to College this
morning. ... I said good-bye to Uncle A last night,
before I AA^ent to the meeting. He has gone on his Avay
rejoicing. He came to England by Avay of AntAverp and
Harwich, and did not pass through Dover. . . .
" As regards deeper things, I quite appro A'e your pur-
pose to seek,. and if possible to make more still spaces in
life. To me it is less possible, and I must try to breathe
in the iuAA-ard tranquillity Avhile bustling about in the affairs
of the kingdom. To you it is both possible and obligatory.
For a little Avhile noAV those children Avill demand all your
strength and time. At least Avhat you can save should be
given to higher thoughts and interests, not snatched aAvay
by even Christian violences. Begin your rest of mind nou;
AA'here you are, as far as you can. Of course you have a
great care daily, but if it grows less through Divine good-
ness, then take the benefit of it. Think it religious to enjoy
yourself. Get every good thing in moderation, and don't
trouble about present expense. . . . God bless you ever.
My love to my lambs."
HARE COURT AND STAMFORD HILL, ETC. 235
To a little Niece, 3d June 1874.
London.
" Deae ' Wee Mary ' — I am told you have grown
quite big no-w. So has our Agnes ; . . . and I think you
must not let people call you ' wee ' any longer.
" I thank you very much for the pen-wiper which you
have sent to me by Papa. When I wipe my pen with it I
shall sometimes think of you, and try to write only wise
and good things ! But it is very difficult to write well and
wisely always. You will find this out in a while, when you
begin to try. And it is still more difficult to live wisely
and well. But everything can be done with God's help.
There is a verse in the Bible that I often think about ; it
says, ' I can do all things through Christ which strength-
eneth me.' That verse is good for little as well as for big
people. But oh, I forgot, I must not call you ' little ' any
more ! May you grow in grace. May you be very wise
and very kind, and very helpful to others, and very like the
Good Shepherd wdio will lead you.
"All the Marys I can remember are good — both those
that lived long ago, and those now living. Except Mary
Queen of Scots, she was not very good. So I hope you will
be far better than Mary Queen of Scots, and almost as
good as Aunt Mary and your j\Iamma. Give my love and
Aunt Mary's to your Mamma and to your sister and brothers,
— Your affectionate Uncle, Alexander Ealeigh."
In March 1874 Thomas Binney died. Dr. Ealeigli
was visiting his early friend Sir James Watts when
tidings of the event came, and he was profoundly moved.
An affection, strong and tender as the character of
each, had grown up between the older minister and the
236 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
younger. " The world is a little colder without him, at
least it is to me. His going even in old age, and when
we knew that it must be, makes a very sensible, and in
some ways, a very painful loss."
We give in the following paragraphs some descrip-
tive touches by the same hand : —
" He was a great Englishman, who sought England's
good. He was a great jireacher of Jesus Christ, and for
fifty years spent his strength by day, and burnt his oil by
night, that he might be that. . . ,
" As a jiastor he was much trusted and loved, because
he trusted much and loved much. . . . How many did he
help in all those years, down to the river-brink and almost
across ! And there are not a few yet alive who never can
express all he has been to them in joy and sorrow ; who
will find it easier to die because he has died before them,
and to whom heaven will be dearer now because he is there.
"... He was a great man, not only by the force of
his thinking, or the eloquence of his speaking, but by
simple-heartedness like that of the little children that loved
him. And now he has gone from us, amid tokens of regard
and affection which can fall to the lot of few men in their
death. It was well that he could not in the flesh see his
own funeral. He.might survey it from the heights without
injury ; and it did us good to carry him — our father and
friend most dear- — to the grave as they carry kings.
" On the evening of the day when our friend was buried,
I went again to the place where he was laid. It was well
on in the evening ; few people were in the street. I looked
in through the iron gates and saw the 'place where the
clustering thousands had stood not many hours before. The
moonlight fell quietly on the scene. The clouds floated far
HARE COURT AND STAMFORD HILL, ETC. 237
above. The white monuments gleamed weirdly, and there
was the silent grave with its new occupant asleep — sleeping
in Jesus, but so soundly that none but He can wake the
sleeper. And the thought came to me, This is death ! ' I
shall see him no more, neither shall his place any more
behold him.' ..."
" But all this only enhances the value of the great
truth, ' God is the God of the living! What is death to us
is life to Him, and life to him too whom Ave mourn as dead.
" It must be so, not alone because Jesus declares it, but
also because we feel instinctively that so much life of the
highest and noblest kind cannot, in a moment, have ceased
to be. Thought, knowledge, love, sympathy, courage,
patience, heavenward aspirations and holies, continuing
and growing for sixty or seventy years, never brighter than
at the last, and then — ' Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust
to dust,' — and the universe has seen and heard the last of
Thomas Binney ! Believe it who ccm !"
When Dr. Ealeigli returned home on the evening
referred to, after his visit to the grave in Abney Park
Cemetery, he said to his wife, " I have been almost
tempted to-night to buy the grave next Binney's — the
spot looks so calm and beautiful ;" adding, " I will not
buy it now, but I should like to lie there."
Six years afterwards, when " a possession of a bury-
ing-place " was sought, the wish was fulfilled, and he
sleeps beside his friend.
CHAPTEE XVII.
JOURNEY TO EGYPT.
' Awful memorials, but of whom we know not :
theirs a voice
For ever speaking to the heart of man ! "
Samuel Rogeks.
In the begiuning of 1875 the Hare Court congregation
proposed that Dr. Ealeigh should be set free for some
months iu order to visit Egypt and Palestine, and they
o-enerously presented him with a purse of £300 to meet
the expense of the journey. For many years it had
been his desire to look with his own eyes on the scenes
of sacred history, and he prepared for the tour with
pleasant expectation. He left London towards the end of
January, sailed up the Nile as far as the First Cataract,
and then beginning at Jaffa, made the usual circuit of
Palestine. A few days were spent in Constantinople
and Athens, and the journey home was by way of
Venice. The party of which he made one was well-
assorted and not too large. It comprised an inner
circle of friends, known and beloved, and was remark-
able for its general harmony. The journey, although
new to Dr. Pialeigh, brought nothing very unusual in
JOUENEY TO EGYPT. 239
its external experiences, but some of his thoughts and
feelings as he passed through memorable scenes may
not be without interest.
To his Wife, 29th January 1875.
Brindisi.
" We leave for Corfu to-night at twelve. The wind is
from tlie north " Euroclydon." It is bitterly cold, and we
shall probably have a night of it. But it is only a ten
hours' sail ; the vessel is strong, and there is One above all.
To Him I commend you. May you sleep and wake in
Him, and have moi^e rest and joy in Him than when we
are all about you — and do Him more perfect service than
when ' careful and troubled ' about all our wants, and
desires, and impatiences. ..."
To the Same, 5th February 1875.
A lexandria.
" Here I am on African ground, and never was a ship's
company more grateful to touch land in safety. We had
a very stormy passage from Corfu, the worst Aveather I have
ever encountered at sea. The rolling of the vessel at times
was perfectly frightful, chairs and tables as well as crockery
joining in the fray. Worse than the terrors of the storm
in itself, Avas the fact that as we approached the shore it
became increasingly evident that a miscalculation had been
made as to the ship's course from Crete. Long after
Alexandria Avas due we Avere still at sea Avith no land in
sight; and at length, to make a long, and to us miserable
story short, Ave sighted the light house or tower at Port
Said (Mr. Greenhorne Avill tell you hoAv far that is from
Alexandria), and had hard Avork battling against a fierce
north Avind to get into Alexandria safely — Avhich Ave did
at last — in moderated Aveather and in bright sunshine.
240 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
There were laughing girls in the company who never knew
the danger, and a few rollicking spirits who would not be
subdued. But on the great majority the impression was
more profound than any now- a- days produced by a sermon.
I think the gratitude is sincere, and I know, in one or two
instances, will be practical to the benefit of others.
" What increased the trial to me was, that all the while
wc were sailing amid, scenes made for ever memorable by
the imaginaiy fortunes and voyages of Ulysses, and by the
real voyage and shipwreck of St. Paul, I did see Ithaca
and Cephalonia, for we sailed between them, and we were
sheltered by Crete, and Avere able to look towards the
' Fair Havens.' Once or twice I saw into them, but the
scene made by glooming mountain and angry sea and dis-
turbed air was anything but 'fair.' So 'we were driven
up and down in Adria.' . . . One lady, who was pros-
trated in her cabin by sickness, sent a message to me by
her husband ' that the prayers which she knew followed
me were a great comfort to her.'
" The mail from England is late, no doubt kept back
by the storm ; but it Avill be here to-day, and either here or
at Cairo I shall hope to hear from home. I carry home in
my heart Avherever I go, and shall do if spared to pass
through yet holier scenes."
To the Same, Gth February 1875.
Cairo.
" The first tiling that struck me on coming ashore at
Alexandria, and it is still more observable here, was the
dress of the people. You feel at once on seeing them that
you are in a strange land, and that land is the East. The
turban, the flowing robe, the rich shawl, the fine linen, the
sandals, the bare feet, the dark skin — all are so wholly
different from English or "Western European life that you
JOURNEY TO EGYPT. 241
feel almost as if you had gone into another world. And.it
is by no means a sil67it world into which you have gone,
for the next thing that struck me was the immense and
constant noise. Boatmen, coachmen, porters, any one who
offers to serve you in any way, shout like town-criers and
gesticulate like Dominie Sampson. Yet there is a kind of
music in the noise, as there is certainly impressiveness, and
sometimes great grace in the movements. ... As the
people move about in the streets in dresses of all colours
and shapes, and composed of all materials, you are dazzled
and delighted by the sight. You feel as if you were
attending some great public spectacle — as if the proces-
sion would soon pass — -but it never ends. ..."
To the Same, 10th February 1875.
Oil the Nile.
"... We sail to-day at three o'clock. I have been
very busy at the Pyramids, at the Mosques, at the Bazaars,
at Heliopolis, which is so much a ruin that there is but a
single obelisk left standing. ... It was the Oxford of
Egypt. Plato studied in it, Joseph married his wife there,
and there Jacob had a house. I looked around on the
same land of Goshen which his eyes must have seen so
often, watered, from the Nile just as now. The far-stretch-
ing desert lay spread out before me, just as Jacob saw it,
the Lybian hills shutting in the prospect on the left bank
of the Nile, and little sand hillocks closing the view on
the right. 'One generation passeth away and another
cometh, but the earth endureth for ever.' ..."
To the Same, 23d February 1875.
Fifst Cataract.
"... This Egypt is more and more a wonder to me.
It is no exaggeration to say that it has given me some new
R
242 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
revelations, both of God and man — I mean, of course, the
Egyi)t that is dead and gone, but Avhich yet speaketh so
wonderfully by its rocks and temples, of the long, long ago
time. ...
" Our, company is, on the whole, a pleasant one. We
had two sermons on Sunday, I preaching one ; and we
spent the day as religiously as at home. I often wonder
how things are going on at home, in the larger and the
smaller sense. ..."
25tk — " We have finished Thebes and nearly ourselves.
Toiling up the hot limestone valleys, climbing the hills,
and moving everywhere amid continual dust, and indescrib-
able noise of Arabs and donkeys, and miserable creatures
begging for backsheesh, is a heavy price to pay for our
privilege; which, however, in its Avorth, and as a life memory,
greatly outweighs them all. . . . The two colossal figures,
called ' The Pair,' are, I think, the most impressive things I
have seen, or that can be seen anyAvhere in the world. They
reach the soul even more than the Pyramids, and express
more of the thought and life of the ancient people who set
them where they yet stand. . . . Turning homewards, I
think more of home, if that be possible, and feel more
vividly what I have felt a hundred times before — that a
fixed place is better for living in than continual movement,
and loving hearts than all the charms of nature. ..."
In his letters home and in lectures delivered after
his return Dr. Ealeigh noted, in characteristic detail,
the aspects of natural and social life in Egypt — the
marvellous purity of the air, the excellent qualities of
the Nile water, and the historic apparatus by means of
which the extent of its annual rise is made known
beforehand to the populous villages. He entered into
JOURNEY TO EGYPT. 243
the anxieties of the dwellers on those unpicturesque
mounds, where mud -huts cling together for protection
agamst the waters. " Blessed waters ! when they come
in measure ; waters of destruction and death, if that
measure be far exceeded. So many feet only — starva-
tion ! So many more — hare existence ! So many more
— abundance ! So many more — destruction ! "
His indignation was roused to find that the Nilometer
itself had come under the corrupting influence of the
Turkish Government at Cairo — a favourable state of the
river being sometimes announced falsely, when the con-
dition of the Khedive's exchequer made it desirable to
extort more taxes from the people. The idea interested
him that some possible connection might exist between
the unusual turbulency of the river in late years, and
the tumultuous movements of the empire of which
Egypt forms a part, and which have been often observed
to synchronise. " What can be the reasons of the
coincidence ? Are we sure they are all physical ?
Proximately, of course, they are. But back of all
physical causes there is always tJie unknown Force — the
great, mysterious, perfect Will. Our great Teacher has
told us to connect the physical and the spiritual in our
thought : —
' As the sun,
Ere it is risen, sometimes paints its image
In the atmosphere ; so often do the spirits
Of great events stride on before the events —
And in to-day, already Avalks to-morrow.' "
The ancient monuments of Egypt, its buildings and
244 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
obelisks and stone figures, were full of suggestion to his
mind. He saw in tliem the record of a civilisation far
beyond the date usually received as that of the begin-
ning of human history. " It is, I fear, utterly impossible
to get the history of this world into 6000 years. The
chronology of Egypt confutes the idea. But who says
GO 00 years ? Not the book of Genesis. Archbishop
Usher says so, and Bishop Lloyd has put Usher's chron-
ology into the margin of our Bibles ; and English people
have so much reverence for bishops that they straight-
way and without gainsaying, accept it as from heaven.
It ^^d^l not do. We must go a long way beyond the
6000 years — how far no one can tell." And he was
specially moved to wonder by the clear record left by
the men of those remote ages of a faith not altogether
alien from our own.
" There is a strange solemn beauty about the temples
of Egypt. However much you may have prepared yourself
beforehand by reading books on Egypt the impression is
different from anything you anticipated, and in some ways
it is more and deeper. The strength of the walls, the
enormous dimensions of the temples (at Carnak, for in-
stance), the stony silence of the majestic figures — all seen
in the calm still air, and with the unmoving eternal desert
stretching away on every side — produce an eiTect on the
mind which it is impossible to convey. ..."
" Among all points of interest presented to me, none
were so profoundly fascinating as the religious faith and
life of old Egypt. ■ Of course there is a large measurb of
obscurity, but through the obscure I see the beHef — that
behind the manifestation of physical nature which meets
our senses, there are fountains of energy — eternal, self-
JOURNEY TO EGYPT, 245
renewing, resistless ; and that men upon the earth have to
do with these. I think this is a good deal to find. Some
of our wisest men will not allow us anything beyond the
circle of the senses — what we can measure and weigh, or
eat and drink, or put on and put off, or see through a
telescope, or feel in any way by nerve or sensibility — so
much we have and no more.
" What ! nothing behind ! Nothing above ! Nothing
within ! No Spirit or spirits to direct these visible things,
and with whom our invisible spirits may converse 1 We
may well ask to be taken away from those who have only
tliis to say to us, and to be set down amid the ruins of
some old Egyptian temple — to gaze on the hieroglyphics
on walls or pillars — or to stand within a rock-tomb on the
mountain-side, where lie the mummies of the great men,
surrounded by the signs of that faith in which they were
laid to sleep. . . . There was among them a strong develop-
ment of the ethical faculty. They felt themselves under
law; and the Judgment occupies a large place in their
religious faith. ' After death the Judgment.'
" Immediately after death it began. Before the body,
embalmed, could be buried, it must be brought down to the
sacred lake ; no one could be laid to rest in the tomb without
passing over. The boat was always in waiting, the boatman
always ready, and around the lake sat the judges to pass
judgment on the dead. Hence, probably, have come the
poetic conception and descriptions of the River of Death.
But for this old Egyptian faith concerning death and judg-
ment, and the figurative form in which they put it, perhaps
we should not have had the more elaborated, but, I hardly
think, more refined fable of the Greeks — Jordan might not
have been so much used as a symbol of death — we might
not have had the ' River of Life ' in Revelations (for
Revelation generally takes existing forms and figures) —
246 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
we miglit not have had Bunyan's allegory of the crossing
of the river, and we might not be singing now in our
religious meetings, ' Shall we gather at the River V These
old Egyptians did undoubtedly hold, in whatever way they
got it, a life-and-death grasp of this idea of immortality,
and a future life. By the strength of their faith in this
great article they have made the world eternally their
debtors. Standing amid these tombs, the thoughtful among
them would feel perhaps, as much as we do to-day, what a
shadow life is — on what a narrow valley its toils are
prosecuted, and how near they lie to the great realms of
silence and spirit-life. Realms of silence to us, but not to
the dwellers there ; for it is touching to see how all the
best and most interesting occupations of this mortal life
are represented as renewed on these happier fields ; (some
of the worse as well, alas ! and is it to be wondered at ?)
they sow, they reap, they build, they press the grapes ;
they have great assemblages — we see the harpers harping
with their harps of seven strings, and all this beyond
death — and subject to death no more ! . . .
" If I were asked to name the one thing in Egypt
which attracted and won my deepest interest, I should not
name the great Pyramid, or the Sphinx, or even that wonder-
ful Silent ' Pair ' — the gigantic statues which sit in the old
palace of Thebes, just as they sat thousands of years ago —
silent, awful, as though looking into Eternity : but I
should ask you to go up with me into a little chamber
among the vast ruins of Phila^. It is called the ' Resur-
rection Chamber.' It has not long been discovered, and
here you see on the walls a vivid representation of the
death, burial, and resurrection of Osiris. It looks almost
like a designed rehearsal of the greatest of all historic events
— the resurrection of our Lord. . . . Coming down out of
that chamber I could not but exclaim, ' I have seen strange
JOURNEY TO EGYPT. 247
things to-day.' Was it not the Spirit of Christ which,
working in them, 'did testify beforehand' of His death
and resurrection, and of the glory that should follow ?
"We are not able to say exactly what the relationship
is between the old natural religions of the world and the
religion revealed ; we are not, therefore, to allow ourselves
to be in the least degree unjust or unfair to either. The
great function of science and of honest men is, and must
be for many a long day, to find out what is true, and
declare the finding — leaving the grand conciliations to
come by-and-by. . . .
" It is a singular fact that Abraham must often have
seen the great Pyramid. And he must have known the
use and meaning of it, and the grandeur of it, and that
there was nothing else like it in all the world — and yet
he does not say one single word to us about it! True,
we have not the annals of his life from his own hand ;
what records he kept passed into the hands of another ;
but the silence is still remarkable to our thought. . . .
Jacob lived in Egypt during the last period of his life, and
died there ; but, similarly, we hear nothing of his Egyptian
impressions. He must have seen much — what Abraham
saw and more ; he was an old man, but he was wise,
observant, thoughtful, poetical, sympathetic, travelled, de-
vout; yet nothing is told us in the record of his life of
what he thought and felt about Egypt and her great
works and her wise men. A more striking instance still
is that of Moses, who was born in Egypt. I saw the place
where Moses lay in his little ark of bulrushes — among the
flags of the river (there are no flags there now) ; Moses
was a child of Egypt, and not until he was forty years old,
apparently, did it come ' into his heart ' even to visit his
brethren. Yet even he has not told us much. ... I see
in this silence and apparent indiff"erence something of the
248 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
divine dignity that belongs to great men of God, and to
revealed religion. A dignity sometimes Avitli almost, one
would say, a toncli of disdain in it. God seems to say by
this silence, ' The pyramids, the temples, the cities of
Egypt ! My one man of faith — my Abraham — a pilgrim
living in tents, but with his eye on the celestial city — the
father of innumerable multitudes of believing and heaven-
seeking and heaven-drawn souls, is greater than them all !
Shall Abraham go into raptures over these, and write his
admiration in a book 1 No. Let him look indeed, but be
silent and pass on. Higher than a thousand pyramids, if
they could be piled one upon another, stands the character
of this one man ; and the host of which he is father and
head shall yet fill heavenly cities.' . . ."
CHAPTEE XVIII.
PALESTINE,
" It is not that the fig-tree grows,
And palms in tliy soft air ;
But that Sharon's fair and bleeding rose
Once shed its fragrance there."
M'Cheyne.
On the 6th of March the travellers embarked at Port
Said for Jaffa. Dr. Kaleigh thus describes the com-
pany on board : —
To his Wife, 6th March 1875.
Port Said.
" We have between seventy and eighty cabin passengers
and more than five hundred pilgrims, some returning from
Mecca and some going to Jerusalem for Holy Week To
see them laid out in families and groups on the deck is a
very interesting sight. It is said that there are as many
nationalities represented' as there are letters of the alphabet
— twenty-six; and there are some nice-looking people
amongst them. They are not of the poorest sort, although
some, pilgrim-like, are poorly clad. There are some pretty
women with motherly faces, and bright well-kept children.
This is refreshing after Egypt, where we saw nothing but
what J would call 'horrors,' all the young and good-
250 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
looking women being kept in durance vile. The men were
all disamied as they came on board — swords, daggers,
cutlasses, guns, pistols — all laid up to be given to them
when they land. This is said to be necessary for our
safety, although any concert of a piratical kind, in such a
diverse multitude, must be exceedingly improbable."
The voyage from Port Said was easy and rapid, and
before daybreak the vessel lay off Joppa.
"I was up a good while before the light began to
appear. I stood on the deck looking eastwards ; it was
dull and somewhat hazy, but at last the morning is faintly
breaking ! Yonder, distinguishable from cloud and leaden
sky, is a faint but firm outline, growing clearer as the
minutes pass. It is the Hohj Land! That is enough to
kindle the imagination into fervour, to suffuse the heart
with tenderness, to fill the eyes with tears ! . . ."
We quote from Notes : —
" At Joppa we visited the house of Simon the tanner,
close to the sea-shore. Standmg on the roof I thought,
' This might weU enough have been the very place where
Peter, lulled by the sea-breeze, and touched by the Divine
Spirit, fell into a trance.' . . .
" But we must mount and away. What is the plain of
Sharon to-day, as we ride across it? It has something
both of the wilderness and the garden of the Lord. It is
under a kind of cultivation, the soil is scratched, and here
and there is a field of corn. But what an outburst of fer-
tihty and abundance there would be if Scotch farmers had
their ploughs in it ; if the security of English law were
stretched over it ; and if there were free markets in the
sea-board towns ! In regard to the flowers it is the garden
of the Lord to-day. The wild rose, the anemone, the lupin,
PALESTINE. 251
tulips, lilies — 'Behold the lilies how they grow!' And
there are patches of thyme spread over the earth, and hung
to the rock, over which the bees hover and hum, for we
are now in ' the land which floweth with milk and honey,'
" A Scotch minister who preceded me by a good many
years in the journey, says that experience considerably
toned down in him the feelings produced by the first sight
of the Holy Land and its flowers. I do not think it did with
me. I can quote the words of Byron, and feel them true
all through my journey : —
' Thy very weeds are beautiful. Thy waste
More rich than other climes' fertility.' ..."
^tli March. — " We camped at Ramleh, and there for the
first time in my life I slept in a tent. The tents imme-
diately after sundown were dripping with heavy dews, and
after a hot day the night is very cold. I thought that
night of Jacob's experience, as told by himself to Laban,
in his indignant defence, — ' Thus I was ; in the day the
drought consumed me, and the frost by night, and my
sleep departed from mine eyes.' . . .
" Now we begin to go in among the mountains, and
literally to ' go up to Jerusalem.' We need to take but a
few hundred feet from the top of Goatfell, in the island of
Arran, to get the height at which Jerusalem sits enthroned
' on the sides of the north, the City of the Great King ! '
How often have I spoken of going up to Jerusalem, both
in the literal and in the higher metaphysical sense ! How
often wondered whether I should ever see it with my eyes.
And now I am on the way to it ; and to-night, if all be
well, before the sun shall set, I shall be at least before its
gates. The road is very rugged, but a great deal better
than many of the Palestine roads. It is just possible to
take a wheeled carriage from Jaff"a to Jerusalem, although
I must say I should not like to ride in it. . . .
252 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
" We got to Jerusalem Avith yet an hour or two of day-
light left, by which to look around us on the woiidrous
scene. I think I was the first of the company to arrive.
Our tents went on before us, and there they are outside
the walls, not far from the Jaffa gate. In a short time all
our party came up, and we had our evening meal. Some
one suggested that before we rose from our tent-table we
should sing two or three verses of a hymn appropriate to
the place where we were — close to the walls of Jerusalem,
and looking on the city from our tent-door. The sugges-
tion was at once adopted, and we stood up and sang
' Jerusalem, my happy home ! '
" It might be difficult to distinguish and analyse the
sources and the quality of our emotion. But about the
feeling itself there can be no doubt. There we were —
of different nationalities, of various religious persuasions,
the young, the old, the lively and severe, all moved very
deeply by these simple words. A thoughtful but very
unobtrusive member of the company was so touched that
he spoke out and said, ' I hope none of us w^ill ever forget
the singing of this hymn ; ' and I don't think any of us
ever will. . . .
" Entering Jerusalem as we did, you see nothing of the
form or size or proportions, of the place, and you are dis-
appointed. Entering from Bethany, and looking at the
city from the Mount of Olives, you see everything, and
you are so delighted as to be ready almost to break forth
into song. ' Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole
earth is Mount Zion ! ' Imagination and memory are —
how busy! — picturing the long historic drama that was
enacted in the city on which we are looking, culminating
in the life and death of our Lord.
" We see Mount Moriah, where the Temple stood, and
PALESTINE. 253
where now stand the Mosque of Omar and otlier mosques.
It was a splendid position for Solomon's temple ; and some-
where not far off, in his palace, ' Solomon in all his glory '
reigned. There he planned his pools up the mountain-
sides, away beyond Bethlehem, which remain until this
day, as distinctly cut, and in as good preservation, as if the
Metropolitan Board of Works had them in keeping. . . .
" We were a Sabbath in Jerusalem. I spent two
hours on Saturday evening in the house of the good
Bishop, and next morning, for the first time in my life, I
took the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper in the Church of
England. I was thankful that it happened to be in Jeru-'
salem, and if the services for the day had not been pre-
viously arranged, the Bishop would have asked me to
preach in the evening. . . ."
Dr. Ealeigii notes the visit to Gethsemane " with
no superstitious feeling, yet with reverence and thank-
fulness."
His Journal continues : —
" We come to Siloam. Standing by the fountain I
thought of the beautiful lines, written by one of the saint-
liest men whose feet ever trod these sacred scenes : —
' Beneath Moriali's rocky side
A gentle fountain springs ;
Silent and soft its waters glide,
Like the peace the Spirit brings.
* The thirsty Arab stoops to drink
Of tlie cool and quiet wave ;
And the thirsty spirit stops to think
Of Him who came to save !
' Siloam is the fountain's name,
It means ' One sent from God ; '
And thus the holy Saviour's fame
It gently spreads abroad.
254 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
' Oh grant that I, like this sweet well.
May Jesus' image bear !
And siieiul my life, my all, to tell
How full* His mercies are ! ' "
The above hymn, by R. M. M'Cheyne, was a
special favourite with him, and he has repeated it
so many times to his children that it must always
to them be associated with his memory. To recite
selected pieces of poetry was not unusual with him
in any social circle where he felt quite at home. Those
who have been present remember especially the un-
forced humour and pathos with which he could render
some pieces in Scottish and Lancasliire dialect.
To return to the Notes : —
" We must see Bethlehem. It takes a day to do this
from Jerusalem. The road is rough, but in one or two
places it is soft and level enough for a gallop. We pass
Rachel's tomb by the way. There it has stood — although
not in its present state — for 4000 years : a touching record
of a calamity that has been often repeated since — a
memento of tenderest affection and profoundest grief —
bearing the name of a simple-hearted woman, whose chief
distinction is that Jacob loved her, and that she was the
mother of Joseph. ...
" In Bethlehem itself we forget everything that has
happened except the grand event. We hardly tliink of
David, the ruddy shepherd youth, or of him in later years,
although the water proffered to us is from the well ' at the
gate.' Nor do we much remember Ruth, the gleaner.
For yonder are tlie plains on mIucIi the shepherds were
keeping their flocks by night when, suddenly, rock and
field were lighted with a heavenly glory, and for once the
blessed angels sang among men. ...
PALESTINE. 255
" On our way to Jericho we pass Bethany — a small
town — smiple-lookiug, common, poor, I thought of quiet
Mary and of busy Martha, of the Master coming round
the hillside into the village at night, and of the mar-
vellous words spoken there in the stillness of an evening
long ago. . . .
" Soon after leaving Bethany, Ave are on the old road
from Jerusalem to Jericho, and some of the old rough
habits of the road stick to it still. ' We take the thieves
with us to-day,' quoth our dragoman, facetiously but truly.
He pointed as he spoke to the sheik of the district, who was
riding gaily in front of our little company, and who had re-
ceived a fee of a few guineas to see us in safety down to
the Dead Sea and then up to Jericho. Of course, it is very
wrong of him and his poor people to tax travellers in this
way, and far worse to use violence. When we get the
* unspeakable Turk ' out of the way (I mean as a ruling
Power) we shall get this and many other things put right.
Meantime, to keep my indignation within bounds, I re-
member that there are a few things at home among our-
selves — the getting up of bubble companies, the buying
and selling of shares that have nothing real behind them,
and many such like things there are, at which a not very
scrupulous sheik might shrug his shoulders. ..."
The next recollection of travel noted is the journey
through the plain of Samaria. Of Jacob's Well, Dr.
Ealeigh writes : —
" Thanks to my incorrigible habit of being in good time
for everything in the general march through life, I was there
for a little time quite alone — where our Lord must have
sat, resting after his journey, while he talked with the
woman of Samaria. No doubt about the identity of site
here. As far as any j^lace can be holy, here is one holy
256 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
place on the earth. I reached down as far as I coukl, and
pulled some of the simple but very pretty flowers that
grew on the shelving brink. I did not get any of the
water, for we had ' nothing to draw with, and the well is
deep.' But I tried to think of the 'Living Water,' which
springeth up to everlasting life. . . .
" Olive-trees cover all the hills around the ruins of
the town of Samaria. Each olive-tree is a property, and
each olive - tree is taxed. Our Turk, supported through
thick and thin by our miraculous Premier, will not let
out even a rough mountain to a man for so much, and
let him make the best of it. He will come and see what
he makes of it, and if there be some over-plus beyond
expectation, the lusty, lazy fellow will say, ' That is for
me ! ' . . .
" From Nain, we cross the great plain to Nazareth. We
spent a Sunday there — a calm, beautiful day it was. We
had service in the morning, and in the afternoon some of
us climbed the hill behind the town, from which there
is one of the most extensive and magnificent prospects
anywhere to be obtained in Palestine. There we stood,
where no doubt hundreds of times Jesus, in youth and
opening manhood, had gazed as we did over the scene,
having his own share of the natural and human joy that
we felt in such a sight, but with thoughts deeper, and
how different ! , . .
" One point of my Palestinian journey will be ever
memorable to me — the green hill-top, not far from the
Mount of Beatitudes, whence I got the first view, complete
in a moment, of the Lake of Galilee. It lies deep below
us, but is very clearly seen in the rich light and pure air.
The lake is a glass — the mountains are the frame — the
opening dales on either side are the tracery. Considered
simply in itself, I have seldom, if ever, looked on a more
PALESTINE. 257
witching scene. But oli, the memories that spring up !
Each particular recollection rushing, as it were, to some
specific place on the strand or on the sea. The very air
seems haunted and holy. Thrills of the Great Presence
are left behind, and are felt and welcomed by sensitive
souls. If the mood of elevation into which one is caught
were to last, it would be no surprise to meet the Master
on the shore, or Peter coming up from his net, or John, or
Mary of Magdala. . . .
" That evening, about the hour of sunset, in warm
summer temperature, some of our company were reclining
on the shingly beach. After a little talk about the prob-
able site of this place and the other, mentioned in the
Gospels, there fell a silence — each seemed satisfied to look
and think. Remembering some verses descriptive of the
scene, written by a saintly soul, Robert M'Cheyne, I
repeated : —
' How pleasant to me thy deep-blue wave,
Sea of Galilee !
For the glorions Oue who came to save
Hath often stood by thee.
' Faiir are the lakes in the land I love,
Where the pine and heather grow ;
But thou hast loveliness far above
What Nature can bestow. '
" ' Go on,' my comj)anions said, and I repeated them
all."
The following thoughts, suggested to Dr. Ealeigh
while he journeyed in the heart of Palestine, come in at
this point in his own notes and letters, and are there-
fore inserted here, although they break somewhat the
continuity of the narrative : —
258 ALEX^^NDER RALEIGH.
"What has Palestine given to the world? What
specific and distinctive thing 1 What, as the result of all
her tempestuous struggles and pathetic misfortunes, has she
bequeathed as an intellectual and moral inheritance 1 A
comprehensive and true enough answer would be, She has
given a revealed religion. The infinite and eternal One chose
this spot of earth in preference to any other (although, no
doubt, there were divine manifestations in other lands as
Avell) for the publication of His Avill, and for the accom-
plishment of His redeeming purposes. A truly grand
distinction to be borne by any country ! But looking at
the matter simply on the natui'alistic side — supposing the
supernatural denied and all miracle in Jewish history
explained away by what is called the * higher criticism,' is
there yet anything left which cannot be denied by any
whose opinion is worth considering 1 Yes. Palestine has
given to the world the great inheritance of righteousness,
inculcated in legislature and exemplified in life. Eight-
eousness in all its relations, divine and human. No matter
how grievously short of a full realisation of all this the
people often came, for this they existed — to witness for
that eternal and vmchangeable something which lies ethic-
ally at the heart of this world's providence, indeed we may
say at the heart of the universe ; and to which there is an
echo and an answer in every unsophisticated conscience and
in every true human heart, A splendid bequest surely to
the world this bequest of righteousness ! Greece gave to
the world the love of wisdom and the passion for beauty.
Rome gave the finest and fullest idea of visible power and
of law. But Palestine went deeper far. A moral inherit-
ance is nobler than an intellectual one. The Palestinian
righteousness is a richer and better thing than the Hellenic
cultu're ; the Galilean bread is better than the Attic salt.
There is moral simplicity, grandeur, and robustness in the
PALESTINE. 259
doctrine of the universal righteousness and of the real truth
of life that is attainable under it by men.
" It must be sadly confessed that even the nations
professedly Christian, who have received this inheritance
wrapt up in the heart of a Gospel of peace and love, give
it but a stingy welcome and do it but scanty honour. We
see how society may please itself with what it knows to be
hypocrisies ; how commerce may lose its honest lustre, and
become mere slipperiness and deceit ; and how shameful
politics may become in the hands of unprincipled men.
But these are not the permament foundations of our life.
If the world is so bad with the Hebrew Scriptures and the
Gospels, what would it have been without them 1 Honour
to the people who have made the great bequest, and to the
very rocks and plains and hills that are so closely associ-
ated with the giving of it !
" It seems strange that events so great should transpire
on a geographical area so small. Palestine is not much
larger than Wales, to which, in some parts, it is not unlike,
and not only is it small but rugged, even what men call
' common.' Some travellers come back almost oppressed
with the ' commonness ' of what they have seen. God
does not need much earthly space, nor that the little should
be of what men esteem the best, on which to prepare the
scenes of the great drama, historical and celestial, which
has been there unfolded. He does not want a continent
with far -stretching plains and shij) -bearing rivers. He
wants only a strip of land running along the sea-shore ; a
confused mass of mountain an,d high land and plain ; a single
river of moderate size, a lake, and a Dead Sea. Only so
much — and the great drama may go on which has already
culminated in a tragedy, and which is destined, on some
future day, to end in a world-wide triumph.
" God has repeated that type and method of action
260 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
often. Egypt is a river-bed. Greece is little else than
rock and sea. Montenegro is an eagle's nest. Grandly
the Divine action shows against a background of plainness !
Beautifully the Divine idea is worked out in scenes of
common life ! The fisherman in his boat on the sea ;
the shepherd leading his flock along the hillside ; sisters
dwelling in a brother's house in a village — these, and such
as these, are the characters illuminated for ever for the
instruction of all the world.
" What can we do better than construct our life, and
seek to have it inspired after the model of God's own action?
Do our souls begin to hanker after the fat pastures, the
broad acres, the rich estate, the ample well-furnished house?
And do we dislike the commonness, the ruggedness through
^vhich we must work our way 1 We are wrong, we need
much less than we are apt to imagine, we must correct our
ideal. We need only foothold — room to begin. We do not
need selected and auspicious circumstances — we need just
such as come. We may take the commonness and glorify
it by our temper and spirit. We may vanquish the hard-
ships of life by courage and industry, and fill all its scenes
with a gentle and noble simplicity. We may put right-
eousness into it, strong as the bars of the mountains round
about Jerusalem, and love in the heart of it, rising ever-
more like the waters of Sliiloah, and so all our life will be
a Holy Land. . . ."
The rest of his journey is described in letters home."
To his Wife, .31st March 1875.
Damascus.
" On Monday last we encamped by the waters of
Merom — otherwise Lake Huleh — really a part of the
Jordan. Next day we rounded the marshes of the lake
PALESTINE. 261
which stretch up to the north, some of them treacherous
and difficult. For miles the horses sank at every step. On
Good Friday we were to cross the side of Snowy Hermon
— the difficulty of the journey, should the weather be un-
favourable. The glass was falling rapidly ; rain set in
and gave our tents and our chests (I mean the vital
apparatus) that peculiar clammy feeling which must be
experienced to be known. Our dragoman, a splendid
fellow, told us honestly that his fear was that there would
be several days of the very worst weather, everything
portending it ; and he took our opinion whether to
attempt the mountain, rest in our tents, or turn back the
way we had come ; which last, however, he explained,
would be a movement of difficulty owing to the deepen-
ing of the marshes by rain. In fact we were, as he said,
' in a trap,' with only two or three days' food, and no
means of supply in such a place. There was a unanimous
vote to go on, a good many, however, especially those who
knew most about it, voting neither way."
Good Friday. — " We were up at five and started before
seven, in a pouring rain, which grew colder as we ascended,
and then became snow, and then deeper snow, blowing
hard and bitterly. We had a village guide, without whom
even our dragoman would have been at fault, the snow
blotting out the landmarks. It was a terrible time, and
for once I was thankful you were not with me. At length
we ascended the highest point of out passage, the snow still
falling fast and constantly. Some of the party were failing
in strength and could hardly sit on their horses. We tried
a shorter descent, to reach, if possible, the first village
sooner, and came down the most break-neck place I ever
saw horses attempt. We could not even lead them, but
had to drive them before us down a place where we had
difficulty in following. We all got down at last, not
262 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
without falls and Ijniises, ■wliicli, however, were not serious.
The really dangerous thing was the constant exposure and
the terrible chill. One lady, when we were near the
village, fainted away with fatigue and cold (she had come
with her husband expressly for the benefit of her health),
and seemed to all appearance dying. A doctor of the
company said she must have died had we not got her into
shelter. She lay there, against a stone wall, cold and
speechless. Eooms were got in the village, and she was
taken into the shelter and Avarmth of an Arab hut. . . .
" The snow still fell with terrible persistency all through
the night, and next morning we were fairly snowed up.
Tents Avere impossible ; it was so cold, and we were still
4000 feet above the level of the sea. We got three rooms
in the village to hold thirty-one people ; the largest was
given to the ladies, and the two smaller to the gentlemen.
They were miserable places, SAvarming with vermin. Here
we stayed over Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday. Our
bread ran short, and for two days Ave had only Arab bread,
and even that Avas about to fail. On Monday morning we
rose at four ; when daylight came the sun came, the wind
fell, the snoAv ceased, it lay on the ground Avhite and
beautiful. . . .
"A feAv hours more took us over the difficulty, and we
got into Damascus in the evening. We have been thirteen
hours on horseback, and got under tents at half-past ten
at night. What thoughts I have had of you and of home
amid these troul)les and privations ! . . ."
To his Wife, 20th April 1875.
Athens.
" We left Constantinople on Saturday and got at Syros
into the little vessel that bore us hither. I had no berth,
and therefore saAV a good deal of the Grecian isles by
PALESTINE. 263
moonlight. At daybreak we entered the Pirseus, passing
Salamis and her glorious gulf as we did so, and old ^gina's
rock, lighting itself with the first beams of the god of day.
We saw the Acropolis standing out in such light as I have
never seen anywhere but in Athens and in Norway. We
have seen all the great things — the hill of Lycabettus, the
remaining pillars of the Temple of Olympian Jove, the
theatres, where the audience could sit imder the open sky,
in view of the blue sea, and witness the grandest represen-
tations of the drama ; where, too, under Eoman rule, the
Christian martyrs fought, or rather were slain by wild
beasts. To-morrow we go to Eleusis, the bay of Salamis,
the Academe, and next day some of our party are going
to Marathon. It is a long way, a very bad road, and when
you are there the brigands may object to your return. . . .
I shall content myself with the distant view, I am begin-
ning to think much of home now, and of duty. One of
.these days I must fix on a text for my first sermon; it
is too late to ask you for one. I shall stay a day or two
in Venice, an hour or two in Turin, and then Home ! . . ."
Mr. Viney of Highgate, who accompanied Dr.
Ealeigh all through the Egyptian and Palestinian
journeys, ^^Tites of " the influence which in our plea-
sant company Dr. Ealeigh unconsciously possessed."
"We were a considerable party, EngHsh and Ameri-
cans, but by common consent, and without the slightest
assumption on his part, Dr. Ealeigh was from first to last
' primus inter pares.' Often when the journey was tedious,
its monotony was relieved by his powers of conversation,
his ready wit and repartee, and his unfailing store of anec-
dote,
"I remember his thoughtful remarks, always to the
264 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
point, at the morning Bible readings (chiefly on Egyptian
history), which I and some others ventured to initiate on
the steamer during our Nile voyages ; and his welcome
contributions to our social enjoyment, when in the evenings
we assembled on the upper deck, and talked, sang, recited,
or told anecdotes, before turning in for the night.
" The walk with him on one Sabbath over Olivet, to
Bethany and to Gethsemane, are seasons too sacred to
describe. He generally preferred solitude, yet two or
three amongst us sometimes 'comnumed together and
reasoned.'
" Dr. Ealeigh was usually bright and cheerful, although
he often seemed to be longing for home and work ; and
this, or some kindred feeling, cast a slight shadow over
him during the journey, producing occasional reticence and
a yearning to return. I look back with mournful satis-
faction on a journey never to be forgotten in itself, and
made doubly interesting and impressive by his presence."
CHAPTEE XIX.
KENSINGTON.
" Ami care and trial seem at last,
Through memory's sunset air,
Like mountain ranges overpast
In purple distance fair."
Whittier.
Dk. Ealeigh had not long returned from the Holy
Land when an invitation was conveyed to him to
become pastor of Kensington Chapel, vacant by the
resignation, after a memorable ministry of thirty
years, of the Eev. Dr. Stoughton.
After his retirement in 1874 some time elapsed
before it was resolved to invite Dr. Ealeigh to be liis
successor. The call came in July 1875, at a time
when the old difficulty of his life, encountered so
often before, was making itself felt. New claims con-
tinued to arise at Hare Court and Stamford Hill, and
liis nervous power was overtaxed. Some abatement of
labour was imperative, but all plans by which this
could be obtained were beset with difficulty. To
become sole pastor of one of the united churches did
not seem desirable, because this solution of the diffi-
2C6 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
ciilty would inevitably raise questions of peculiar
delicacy, Mdiicli could not possiljly be settled to the
satisfaction of all parties concerned. On the other
hand, he was most unwilling to leave the two churches
at a critical moment in then* history. Anxious days
and sleepless nights were given to the consideration of
the matter, and decision seemed as far off as ever.
" I linger shivering on the brink " (he wrote to a
friend), " not because I fear to launch away so much,
as from a desire not to injure other persons and
interests which are quite as much entitled as myself,
or more, to sail prosperously." And again : — " When
shall I be out of trouble ! and when shall I cease to
be the cause of trouble to others ! Oh, that I had wings
like a dove, for then would I fly away and be at rest."
Suggestions and appeals poured in from Hare
Court and Stamford Hill. Personal friends spoke
in impassioned words, or by looks and actions pled
in silence tliat he w^ould stay with them. " If only
Binney were here," Dr. Ealeigh said, " he could help
me." But Binney was gone, and he must decide for
himself. The more he pondered the position the
clearer it seemed to him that the only way of escape
from excessive labour, which threatened a premature
end of his ministry, lay in acceptance of the call to
Kensington. Those who knew him will not refuse
to believe that he was gTiided to this decision chiefly
by consideration of what was best for his work. It
seemed plain to him that if he went he could bring
the claims of duty at once within the compass of his
KENSINGTON. 267
strength, and that it would be possible to hmi to do
more and better service in the new position than he
conld hope to do in the old.
The sorrow of his people of both churches, when
his decision was made known, can scarcely be told.
The experience of tliat time seems still near, and its
sadness is still fresh in memory. It will be best that
Dr. Ealeigh should himself speak in the words he
addressed to his Hare Court people : —
" Many of you will meet me now with what you still
think the unanswered question — ' Why cannot I go on to
speak to you as I have done 1 Why do I make this break,
so painful both to you and to me ? ' If I Avere to speak
till midnight — as Paul once did — I do not think I could
answer that question to your satisfaction. I will not
attempt it. I Avill only say this. I am not leaving be-
cause I am not trusted ; because I am not loved, or because
of difficulties past, present, or to come. Where are there
7iot difficulties ? Nor for any worldly advancement, for I
shall lose and not gain by the exchange. I am leaving you
(if I dare venture to the positive side of the question for a
moment) because — every true minister of Christ, being
bound to Him in service first and chiefly, and to any church,
however beloved, only under Him — I see in the change
of sphere the probability that I can serve Him longer, and
with more comfort to myself, than if I were to continue
here. I am far from taking the view of my own position
as a preacher that some do who are swayed by the par-
tiality of love, but I do feel that it is a great thing to be
able to speak to men for Him, and that I have not the
right to run the risk of disabling myself before the time.
" And I think it will be for your good. A ministry may
268 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
be too long as well as too short. And I think you ought
not to grudge to others for a few years what you have
valued so highly. A fellowship like ours cannot be thrown
into a gulf of forgetfulness. You iclll remember me, and
I must remember you as long as memory holds her seat.
As long as the Sabbath comes to me I shall remember the
sacred and happy Sabbaths of this house. As long as I
enter human homes I shall remember the welcomes I have
had in yours. And when I pass into that Avorld of which
I have spoken so much I shall hope, through the mercy of
God, to find acceptance in my Saviour, and to claim some
of you as my joy and crown. And very pleasant will be
rest after toil, and joy after sorrow."
On Sunday, lOtli October 1875, Dr. Ealeigh be-
gan liis ministry in Kensington.
At the meeting for his reception he said : —
" I come, understand it, not to take my ease after
giving all my best to others. I come to you in the full
hope of being able, if God Avill, to give you some few
years at least of as good work as any I have ever given.
And my hope is that I may be able to do this without
feeling the strain of it, or without feeling it unduly."
The hope thus expressed was realised. The change
to Kensington greatly lightened his pastoral work, while
it left his public position as a London minister unim-
paired. To make a fresh start in any field was always
a pleasure to him, and when the first sorrows of the
transition were over, he entered with almost youthful
eagerness on his new duties, setting himself to gain
some personal knowledge of the work his people were
doing, and of the people themselves. He found them
KENSINGTON. 269
at all points of tlie social scale. Some of the old and
tlie poor still speak tenderly of liis kindness to tliem.
And it "was stimulating to him as a preacher to find
among his congregation not a few who were influ-
encing hy speech or pen the political and religious
thought of the time.
In Kensington, more than at any former period in
his ministry. Dr. Ealeigh met his people socially, be-
cause he could meet many of them in no other way.
When he could spare the time he enjoyed the conver-
sation of men in other spheres of life than his own.
He was himself everywhere, wearing a simple yet
gracious dignity. His sincerity in the pulpit has been
referred to, and not less in social life was it character-
istic of him, Tlie apostolic expression " simplicity
and godly sincerity" describes well the manner of man
he was in society. And in singular combination with
his transparent honesty there was an intuitive insight
into the differing tastes and needs of those around him,
— a self-adjustment to these, rapid and unerring, and
a power of meeting each person with a sympathy which
made itself felt because it was there, but which was
seldom directly expressed. A friend has said of him : —
"1 never met him that he was not the same — genial,
gentle, half-playful in bearing, yet always grandly in
earnest over grave things." And another : — " I never
knew the man who had such a power of creating
around him a spiritual atmosphere."
There is little to record of the years at Kensington.
Like those of his first ministry at Kotherham, they
270 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
flowed evenly and sweetly, but many hearts bold them
as a sacred memory, and to liimself they were years of
much happiness. He was able to work with vigour,
and his people came around him with growing affection.
To none was his ministry more dear than to those en-
gaged in direct Christian w^ork. He clasped hands with
them as fellow-labourers ; the fervour of his zeal kindled
theirs, and as he spoke of the great harvest to come,
earthly honours seemed to grow poor compared with
the honour of bearing and sowing the precious seed of
God "By kindness, by love unfeigned," he won his
way to the affections of his people. And he gave them,
as he had promised, "good w^ork;" w^ork which cost
him laborious days, and to which he brought all the
treasures of his long experience. His sermons were
less ornate, perhaps, than those of an earlier time, but
they were more definite in aim, more unencumbered in
utterance, as if, knowing that his time was short, he had
laid " aside every weight," that the simple truth might
have free course. His teaching began to be regarded
with quiet appreciation ; and some of his hearers, men
in busy life, acknowledged that " the whole week was
different and better because of the thoughts with which
it was begun."
" These Sundays at Kensington/' writes one of his
people, "were 'times of refreshing from the presence
of the Lord.' The sound of his fervid utterances of
heavenly truth seem still to linger on the ear; We
bless God that He sent him to us, and for all the
messages of love He enabled him to deliver, and for
KENSINGTON. 271
the glimpses of heaven lie seemed to open to oiir
sight."
Throughout his teaching, and in his own heart, the
mystic attraction of heaven was always strong. But
especially was this a very pronounced feature of his
latest ministry. He hardly preached a sermon in which
he did not lift up his eyes to the " everlasting hills."
It is a blessed thing that sin has never effaced the deep
home-longings of human hearts ; and no words were
more welcome than those in which he told of that
world, " where prayer is answered, and toil is recom-
pensed, and love claims her own." Or of " the open
pathway, stretching upward and afar, for home-going
saints and holy angels." Or of " the banquet " where,
" in its earthly beginning, we may wet our bread with
tears as we eat it, but whence we shall go to the higher
and. better God has in reserve, as we pass along to meet
all the good of every age, and to see Him in his glory
at the banquet and in the fellowships of heaven." ^
He" had himself got to the heavenward side of life.
He was as busy as he had ever been, entering fully into
his work, thinbing and planning about it as if he were
still young and life all before him ; and his interest in
public and passing events continued unquenched. Yet,
and this is no fancy, a deep peace seemed to have come
down upon him — with silent expectancy in it — as if he
stood at the meeting-place of the two worlds and took
both into his field of vision. The depressions of former
years were gone, and but that our " eyes were liolden "
^ From MS. seniion.s preached in KeiLsiiigtoii.
272 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
by a merciful blindness, we might have known that the
Master's coming was at hand.
To Mrs. Henry WrIght, 30th December 1876.
" You do not need my written words to assure you of
my sincerest sympathy with yourself and Lady Salt and
your sisters in the scene of sorrowful separation through
which you have been passing. . . . Long as the preparation
has been for the parting hour, it Avill have come upon you
with all that solemnity which is inseparable from death.
. . . You will be thankful that release has come at last to
the dear sufferer, and yet you will mourn with a sorrow
not the less deep because it is quiet for your irreparable
loss. But the thankfulness will in a little be more than
the grief, and you will be happy if all your experiences
help you to be followers of them who ' through faith and
patience inherit the promises.' It is a great thing when
the head of a house like yours is called to ' the house
eternal in the heavens.' I hope and pray that consolation
may come to you in its very best form — the form of
increased usefulness and consecration — the gentle and gen-
erous spirit of him who is gone still living in sons and
daughters, whose honour and joy it will be to spread hap-
piness among the people, and to help every good cause as
he did. . . . That he has gone ' home ' in the high sense
I cannot doubt. Our Father's love is more than ours.
He has room in His great heaven for all : and a welcome
for every one who arrives. What a day will to-morrow be
to those whose first Sabbath it is in lieaven ! INIay God
spare to us also some of the riches of His glory in the
form of ' grace ' !
KENSINGTON. 273
To Mrs. Greenhorne, 5tli February 1877.
London.
" The telegram of Saturday brought ms also into the
house of mourning. We were in a measure prepared, and
could not be greatly surprised ; yet it seemed to come
upon us suddenly, as I suppose it must have done also
upon you.
"I will not venture, my dear friend, on many words
touching this greatest sorrow of your life. You have been
travelling towards it now almost for years ; and of late
you must have known, beyond all doubt, that the end
could not be "far away. . . . We never grow familiar with
death. We never seem to be perfectly prepared for the
parting. Our hearts cling to the loved and dear as though
by clinging we could lengthen their stay ; and when it is
all in vain, and they pass from us into the invisible, we
seem almost to die with them. If even to us here as
a family it be a grief far more than common to think that
we shall see his face no more, what must it be to you and
to your mourning childi-en. I do hope you enjoy all the
consolation you can have in such a sorrow, and that your
sorest heart-sufferings and tenderest memories may be in
some sort the inlet and the preparation for the deeper and
more abiding comfort of the Gospel of Christ. I commend
you all three to the boundless sympathy of the Elder
Brother, and to His love and care, who has no more
tender touching title than this, ' Husband of the widow,
and Father of the fatherless.'
" I feel pretty sure you will not suffer yourself to
regret leaving England for the winter. It was done for the
best, and it has been best. ' He hath done all things well.'
' There is a time to die,' and there must also be a place of
death for each. I am glad also to find that you are allow-
T
274 ALEXANDER RALEKJH.
ing the poor wearied frame to rest just where it fell. It
will sleep as sweetly and safely there as elsewhere, till the
resurrection morning.
" In my sermons yesterday I could not but talk much
of the great future life, and of the homegoing of God's
children. Flitting memories of past years arose in me all
day long. ..."
His public work for his own denomination was never
more abundant, nor his sympathy with his brethren
more cordial, than now ; and when difficulties arose in
any department of Christian organisation with which
he had to do, he had the happy art of securing harmony
without compromising truth. It was said on one occa-
sion when a serious difference of opinion had arisen,
" Dr. Ealeigh, with a few gracious words, gave the
W'hole thing Inirial."
In May 1878, when the question of the terms of
religious communion came, with demand for practical
action, before the Congregational Union, his speech,
delivered at one of the Union Meetings, w^as remark-
able for the genial good sense wdiich combined liberality
with faithfulness. He believed that no real communion
of church with church was possible unless there was
mutual agreement on the vital doctrines which meet in
the Cross ; and he claimed the right of the Union to
state these doctrines, as held by its members, that there
might be no mistake and no misunderstanding.
" Why, in the name of that liberty of which we talk
so much, are Ave to be repressed and hindered from speak-
ing ? Must we be blamed, if, standing in the main wliere
KENSINGTON. 275
our fathers stood in regard to religious truth, when we are
challenged to give answer to certain testing questions, Ave
do say that Ave stand Avith them ? AVe are going to set up
a Avay-mark, to shoAV Avhere Ave are and Avhere we are going;
that Ave are on the old road, and that Ave are going to the
old home. Some of you, Avdieu travelling on the moor-
lands of Cumberland, or the mountains of Scotland, have
seen long roAvs of poles standing. What is the use of
them ? They were set up in the old coaching days to guide
travellers through the snoAvs of winter, and they are still
preserved because they are still of some use. AVhat should
Ave think of a traveller who, coming to one of these, should
look up and say, ' I do not like that pole ; it ought to come
doAvnj it interferes Avith some one's liberty.' Yes. It is
meant to interfere Avith the liberty of going astray ! It is
meant to interfere Avith the liberty of perishing, but Avith
no other liberty Avhatever, and you had better let it stand.
Especially, I should say, do not remove it if there is mist
on the mountains. . . .
" We have no written creed, and have never had ;
although I believe that this is a statement that will have
some historical modifications if Ave examine into the thing
fully ; but we are in the one faith, are we not 1 We are
under one Lord, we have all received of the one baptism,
and we are under the guardianship of the one God and
Father of all, Avho is above all and through all and in you
all. Is it not true that Ave stand in a relation to a Being
whom we have never seen, as we stand in relation to no
being whom we have seen ? Is it. not true that memories of
His earthly life come croAvding in upon our daily thoughts 1
That our best impulses, our most earnest struggles, our
happiest moments, our noblest tasks, our most sanctified
sorroAvs are all from Him 1 Is not our life hid Avith Christ
in God, and do Ave not look forAvard to the time (it Avill
27G ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
not be long hence to some of us) when tlirough His mercy
we hope to stand in His presence 1 Is it mucli, then, to say
this together ? To say that we do believe in the Lord Jesus
Christ, and in all that is distinctive in His doctrine and
kingdom 1
" We have been asked to say whether the facts of our
evangelical history may not be all mythical, whether it
matters much which way it be — whether the character of
our intellectual faith is a vital matter, or whether, indeed,
we might not get on without any intellectual faith at all,
if so be the life is good 1 We are asked for an answer to
these questions, and I, for one, am not prepared to evade
them. ..."
His words, marked as they were by the absence of
anytliiug like polemical bitterness, went far to lead the
Union to accept the position he indicated.
During his ministry in Kensington . the initial steps
were taken towards the building of a church in a
neighbouring newly -peopled district. A suitable site
was bought, and his people voluntarily pledged them-
selves "to help to the best of their ability to raise
such a structure as will be worthy of the neighbour-
hood in which it is located, and will be a fitting tes-
timony to their gratitude for the privileges of worship
enjoyed by themselves." The prosperous beginning of
this undertaking was a great satisfaction to him, although
he has not lived to see laid the material foundation of
the new church.
In the autumn of 1878 Dr. Ealeigh and his family
became tenants of the rectory of Staunton, near Mon-
KENSINGTON. 277
mouth, above the Wye, and close to the Forest of Dean,
A pause occurred in the arrangement when it was known
that the aspiring tenant was a Nonconformist minister,
dissent being ahnost unknown in the small parish. But
it was found that the points of ecclesiastical difference
were less than those of Christian sympathy, and non-
conformist though he was, he said of Staunton, " If all
the parishes of England were under such influence it
would be difficult to wish the system changed."
The seclusion of the forest was charming to him,
and he never tired of looking from the rectory at the
expanse of wooded hills stretching away to the blue
Welsh mountains. The Church service was restful to
him when Sunday came, and in this case the exclusive-
ness of the Church of England was a blessing, as he
could not be asked to preach.
An illness which laid him aside for some weeks
in the spring of 1879 seemed to be so entirely sur-
mounted that in a few weeks he returned to his duties
with his wonted energy. His autumn holiday was
spent in Scotland, and, contrary to his usual custom,
he preached during his absence many times ; first at
Carlisle (on a week day) on his way north, then for two
Sundaj's in Edinburgh, and in the Free Church at Largs,
on the Clyde. At Benmore, on a Sunday evening, when
the golden light touched the pines and rested on the hills,
he preached in the open air (from a text which some
remember still, " A man in Christ "), and once again in
Forfar. He had never before taken so little rest during
278 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
a vacation, but he said it did not tire liim to preach.
He had pleasure in visiting the Clyde, where he had so
many associations, and in pointing out to his children
(from the steamer) the house on tlie sliore in Greenock
where he used to live, and the Whin Hill behind it, which
he had often climbed in other days. And he enjoyed
during these weeks the renewal of fellowship with dear
friends, when old memories were revived, and faces long
hid and voices long silent seemed to come vip out of the
past. These were farewell visits ; " the last " — God had
breathed over them, although the whisper was unheard.
He returned home in September, and Iiis friends
began to remark a change in his appearance — a look of
weariness almost as of premature old age on his face.
But there was no weariness apparent in his work. In
November and December he gave a course of lessons on
the Christian Evidences to the ladies of his congrega-
tion, and he met the children in class two or three
times at the close of the year. He could speak to
children so as to charm them, because he loved them.
He saw " a glory in their faces," and has often remarked
the wondering, far-away gaze in the eyes of very little
children, as if they had not yet lost sight of heavenly
visions, nor become quite at home in our grosser world.
jje says — "Each child is a 'new thing under the sun.'
Matter is old as creation ; spirits are new as the moment
of Time or the creative inspiration of God, from which
they were born." ^ And children instinctively gave him
^ Oi'T Children uboot I'.s, page 14.
KENSINGTON. 279
their love at once. A friend who formeriy lived in
Greenock still remembers how the little ones of his
family used to come about liim and take friendly pos-
session of him, one little boy often falling asleep in his
arms.
What he was to his own children cannot be told
here. They know how he shared their joys and sor-
rows, and lived in their life. Everything concerning
them was of value to him. Some of their early letters
and papers, written in a childish hand, he carried
about with him always. They were in his pocket-
book at the last.
Once, when some small sums of money were given
to the older children, a younger child, hardly more
than a baby, was made happy by the promise of an
allowance of one halfpenny a month. In the joy of
her great prosperity she went immediately to her
father in his study, heedless of the quiet of his Satur-
day morning, and said to him, " Papa, I am going to
allow you a farthing a month ; " adding, as she put
the coin into his hand, " And this is the December
farthing." Silver and gold could not have pleased
him like that little donation, and he never parted
with it.
He had his special friends among the children of
liis people. Some of these have already followed him
to heaven, and more than one mother has taken com-
fort in the thought that perhaps he might be per-
mitted to meet and care for the newly-arrived little
pilgrim on the threshold of the untried way.
280 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
On 30th December 1879 Dr. Paileigh gave, by
request, an address to ministers of different denomina-
tions on "The Changed Aspects of the Evangelical Faith."
Some extracts will serve to show the line of his thinking
on this subject.
" In the statement of my subject — ' Changed Aspects
of the Evangelical Faith ' — there is, to my mind, a very
important assumption — this, that in the Evangelical faith
there is a substance of truth that never changes. We can
have ' changed aqyeds ' of the Evangelical faith, but we can-
not have a change of its inner substance, whatever that may
be, that would not involve its destruction. Just as each
human being has a personal identity on the day of birth
and on the day of death alike ; although growths, decays,
illusions, losses, gains, transmutations, of all degrees, may
come between. ' There is one ' Evangelical ' faith.' So far
as this we may go with almost universal assent.
" It is when we come to the definition of this faith
that we begin to meet our difficulties. It never has been
defined with entire fulness and accuracy ; and no one but
a very sanguine person indeed, would propose a Council of
Christendom in the year 1880, with the hope of restoring,
or arriving at, a catholic agreement on the Evangelical
Christian faith. * Less of pure intellectualism — less of
creed and not more,' is the present cry. . . .
" But it will manifestly never do to allow, either our-
selves, through mere indolence of mind or hopelessness of
temper, or others, to suppose that because we cannot define
and express everything, that therefore we can define and
express in no heljiful degree anything whatever of that
essential Christian truth which is unchangeable, and is
eternally with us. . . .
" We cannot even rationally talk of the changed aspects
KENSINGTON, 281
of a faith, of the essence of Avhich we know nothing ; or
nothing so specifically as to enable us to make any asser-
tions. It were not difficult, in as many minutes as the
number of the points we specify, to pass in review succes-
sive things which are of the very essence of the faith.
" TFe begin, like the Bible, with God. ' In the beginning '
— God. In no vague pantheistic sense, but as a personal
self-conscious being. ...
" God manifest in the flesh. The Christ of history, ex-
pressing God to us, representing us to God. . . .
" The ivorJc of Christ for our redemption. Here, no doubt,
arises a much greater diversity of opinion and belief, yet
the diversity is not so great as it seems. . . .
" We wish not to proclaim any premature Eirenicon on
this central subject in revealed truth. But it is our belief
that the long historic unity of it, in which Roman Catholic
and Protestant alike have been held, is not broken to the
extent that many fear by the advances of modern thought
among Christian thinkers. If men are Evangelical Chris-
tians at all, amid many differing shades of opinion and
varieties of sentiment on this central theme, they can say
without a shadow of insincerity, ' God forbid we should
glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, Avliereby
the world is crucified unto us and we unto the world.' . . .
" Then comes faith in the work of Christ. ...
" Then all the virtues of the new life. Living in the
spirit. The continual sacrifice of self — the continual ser-
vice of men — while life eternal beyond death and the grave is
nourished by, and evolved from the whole.
" In all these points, or most of them, Evangelical
Christians are more agreed than is sometimes supposed,
and more than they themselves always know.
" Yet it cannot be disguised that doctrinal and other
differences have been multiplying very rapidly in recent
282 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
years, ami that we are confronted to-day, not only with ' new
aspects of the Evangelical faith,' but with forms of opinion
and systems of morality and life which have really no claim
to the title ' Evangelical ' at all, although the denial of the
claim often — strangely enough — awakens resentment.
" For a moment or two take a general survey of the
position, and see how we come to be in it. The old prin-
ciple of authority for us is dead. Roman Catholics may
hold it, or often only think they hold it, and Anglo-Catho-
lics, and those who stand close to any of the creeds, and
some who are slaves to the letter of Scripture. But the
great body of thinking, religious people have left the prin-
ciple of authority, and have begun free inquiry, and the
use of private judgment, and the practice of complete
toleration — claiming it for themselves, yielding it to others.
We have agreed to interpret the Bible as Ave interpret other
books, by the helps of scholarship and in the light of reason
— acknowledging, no doubt, that we do not get the Divine
inner sense of it except by humility and prayer — but accept-
ing all intellectual issues that flow from the first application
of the intellectual and literary laws.
" Now, what is the result 1 The result is, some say — ■
giving surely a very extreme rendering of the matter —
' that instead of one Evangelical reading of the Bible, we
have almost as many readings as there are Evangelicals.'
This is true, no doubt, if we take into account very minute
differences. But so it is true that there are as many natural
prospects seen in the one prospect as there are beholding
eyes ; as many tunes heard from one and the same musical
instrument, at the same moment, as there are ears to listen.
" Still it must be granted that we stand, more than
ever before, on a graduated scale of things. Some still
hold the old faith for the old reasons, and put it in the old
language. But others, in succession, all along the scale,
KENSINGTON. 283
discard or ignore a greater and a greater number of points;
or they put others in the place of them, until we come to
those who feel no need of intellectual points, or historical
points, in the faith at all, and to those who say there is
nothing to be conserved, and nothing worth conserving,
except morality. Miss Bevington speaks of 'the dear
bonds of righteousness,' and really there seems to be no-
thing else dear to her. The more's the pity.
" But our concern to-night is not with those at the
other end of the scale — Rationalists and Positivists — but
with those nearest to ourselves, and who still may be fairly
called ' Evangelical' They are distinguished from the older
orthodox by the milder views they take of the character of
God; by the disuse of terror as an instrument of persuasion;
by a timid denial of miracles ; or, short of denial (which is
a strong step), by keeping judicious silence about them ; and
by a general elevation of things which have been accounted
secular, towards a position of equality with things which
have been accounted sacred — with other corresponding
characteristics. Now, if I mistake not, we all have some
sympathy at least with the beginnings of this so-called
liberal movement in theology. But then, of course, it will
cease to be really liberal at the very point where it ceases
to be true ; and it will cease to be true at the point where
it ceases to be Evangelical, if, as we hold, there is an un-
changing substance of the Evangelical faith. . . .
" We are reminded here, and are very willing to be
reminded, that we have no absolute authority, the one over
the other, no right or power to dictate to others in matters
of faith, or to draw the limits of liberty for them, or to say
when or how these limits are by them transgressed. But
the more imperative becomes the obligation resting on each
to fulfil the injunction of St. Paul to Timothy, ' Take heed
unto thyself and unto the doctrine.' Each must be his
284 ALEXANDER EALEIGII.
own mentor, must clarify liis own sight, ' ponder the path
of his feet,' and avoid all theological or philosophical
* goings ' that cannot be ' established.' . . .
" Utterly averse to censorious criticism of the preaching
of some of our younger men, one, of course, cannot help
hearing about it now and again. I speak of the preaching
of some of the foremost of the young men of the new
school. Well, it is interesting. It is, in a sense, thought-
ful. It never violates the laws of good taste. It is
abundantly respectful to the physical philosophers Avho are
named in some pulpits now rather more frequently than
Paul and John, and, in fine, it gives pleasure and awakens
no animosity. But are these the best ends of Evangelical
preaching '? Who goes home Avitli a troubled heart, or with
a heart lightened of sorrow and fear through God's grace 1
"NATio sees more deeply the seriousness and the grandeur of
life, and God's immeasurable greatness and pure holiness 1
And who feels, even to tears, the love of Christ to his ovm
sinful soul, as the tenderest, the strongest, the manliest,
the divinest passion in all the world 1
" Is there not some abatement of reverence in worship,
and in the thoughts of men concerning God, as the result
of the begun prevalence of the milder and more human
views of His character, set forth in some modern thought
and preaching 1 . . .
" From the fatherhood of earth we rise truly and legi-
timately to the fatherhood of heaven ; but there is some-
thing in heaven which never was on earth, something in
God which is not to be found in man. And if that Divine
eternal something eludes our thought, and transcends our
imagination, the more will it nourish our devotion, and fill
our hearts with an awful and most wholesome fear. '
come let us worship, let us bow down before the Lord our
Maker.' ...
KENSINGTON. 285
" Another critical point, where we see the begun flow
of a stream of tendency, is the new method of treating
evil. It may be described as the method which takes it in
detail. Specific sins are stigmatised ; hypocrisy is exposed ;
the spirit of money - making is branded ; dishonourable
commerce and reckless trading are denounced, and all the
shows and all the shams. Now, all this is good as far as
it goes ; but this is not to win the battle against evil. A
battle — or at any rate a campaign — is not won if the enemy
yet holds the citadel. Say he is driven in as often as he
shows himself in any of the outlying fields ; he is shot at if
he ventures to show himself conspicuously on the walls.
Yet if he is yonder in the grim fortress, keeping his goods
and his house in peace, nothing decisive or lasting has been
accomplished. ' wretched man that I am, who shall
deliver me V was the battle-cry of the earnest combatant of
old, as he met and wrestled with the dim and awful forces
of evil in his own heart.
" ' progressive creature that I am, who shall help me
to evolve myself! ' is 7iot the same cry, and does not indicate
that the same battle is going on. . . .
" And now, in closing, a word or two of encouragement
and hope.
" Our first duty, and we shall find our consolation in
it, is faithfulness.
" My honest belief, confirmed by long years of expe-
rience, is that, on the whole, faithfulness and sincerity
command, as they deserve, a general and even deep respect.
And if some say the faith is antiquated, we may remind
them that it shares this disadvantage with the sun, moon,
and stars — which Avill, I suppose, continue to shine in the
sky, old as they are — until brighter lights take their place.
The sceptical world has only one thing to do, but it has
that one thing to do in order to succeed, and that is to
286 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
make and set before the Avorkl another Christ who shall be
diflierent from, and yet better than the Christ whom we
love and serve. "While they are doing this, let us fill the
world with His name.
" Charitif. Our finithfulness will be very apt to curdle
into soutness, or to shrink into narrowness, or to flame out
perhaps, into fierceness and bigotry, without the continual
presence and influence of this heavenliest of all the graces.
'Charity suffereth long' — and Ave have not been long in
this troulJe. ' And is kind,' — 'tis she who carries at her
girdle, but mostly in her hand, that wonderful key which
unlocks ever 1/ human heart. ' Charity envieth not,' — the
superior privileges of other denominations, the standing and
influence of particular men — or any gifts and possessions
which are not fairly hers. ' Charity vaunteth not itself
by great display, or in great language of philosophical
theory or theological dogmatism. ' Is not puffed up,' con-
ceited and boastful, and hungry of praise. ' Doth not
behave itself unseemly,' but rather from inbred courtesy,
is forward to give to all their due, she herself continuing
modest and gentle and sweet in all her ways. ' Seeketh
not her own,' except as the happiness of all may be said
to be her Qwn. ' Is not easily provoked,' — although many
provoking people are living in these times, and many pro-
vokinir things are said and done. 'Thinketh no evil,' —
does not suspiciously impute evil to others, nor devise evil
against them. ' Kejoiceth not in iniquity,' however pro-
fitable it may seem, 'but rejoiceth in the truth,' in the
pure truth for its own sake, more than in the exposure of
falsehood. ' Beareth all things,' — illogical reasonings,
perverted religious tastes, slow apprehensions, the gibe,
the sneer, and bitterness and bigotry — when she cannot
cure she ' beareth ' all such things. ' Believeth all things,'
— is the greatest believer in the world, not only crediting
KENSINGTON. 287
what men say in their own defence, hut holding deep in
her heart's core the dual faith which, properly inter^ireted,
is the sum of all theology — that God is light, and that
God is love. ' Plopeth all things,' — even when none but
she can hope. ' Endureth all things,' — going about the
world fts though she were some dull, patient drudge, Avhen
in fact she is a queen in disguise. ' Charity never faileth.'
She never has failed, and never will, in the heart of God.
Let her never fail in ours. . . .
" My last word is this — that we cannot expect really to
live in the highest sense, and to do our work as it ought
to be done in a time like this, except as we animate our
minds by an abounding and invincible Hopefuhiess. Can we
for a moment doubt whether out of present uncertainties,
difficulties, scruples, doubts, darknesses, light will at length
arise 1 I am bound to say for myself that I don't see
much of that coming light at present, unless it be in this
— that I hold it far better for this world that it should be
agitated with doubts and even moved to stern denials,
(which is, perhaps, rather a quivering in the darkness than
any perceived coming of the light,) than that it should be
orthodoxly contented to have religion doled out to it in
ecclesiastical and official ways, or should be yet more
ignobly contented while not thinking of religion at all.
We who would be faithful watchmen through the night of
unseen movement and subtle change may yet for a while,
during all our own time, have to say in answer to the
question, ' Watchman, what of the night ? ' ' The morn-
ing cometh, and also the night.' But there is a morning
coming which will not be chased by an envious night.
There is a daybreak coming before which the shadows of
centuries will flee away. Human history is not a mistake ;
our fathers have not toiled in vain. The world is young,
and these are the aches and pains -of her growing. ' Jesus
288 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
Christ is the same yesterday, today, and for ever.' He
has gone away from us in visihiUty, not only into heaven,
but forward into the far future of earth and time, whence,
looking back upon us, and the intervening ages, He says,
' I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go and prepare a
place for you, I will coriie again and receive you and the
Avorld unto Myself, that where I am there ye may be also.'
There linger in my memory since the days of boyhood —
now long past — some lines which I felt and admired then,
for what reasons then I could not have told, but which I
feel and believe now much more deeply. Take them, dear
friends in Christ Jesus, as a last word to you in 1879, and
as a NewYear's greeting for 1880.
' Ye good distressed !
Ye noLle few who here unbending stand
Beneath life's pressure ! yet bear up awliile,
And what your bounded view, which only saw
A little part, deemed evil, is no more.
The storms of wintry time will quickly pass,
And one unbounded Spring encircle all.' "
CHAPTEE XX.
LAST DAYS.
' ' I have formerly lived by hearsay and faith ; but now I go where
I shall live by sight, and shall be -with Him in whose company I
delight myself." — Bunyan.
On the last night of 1879 Dr. Ealeigh held, as had
been his custom, a midnight service with his people.
The following are some of his words spoken on that
occasion : —
" It is the common feeling of our fnailty, and of together
being in swift passage through this life and through dark
death on to another, that brings us together thus, before
the face of unchanging God. It is the feeling that we are
sinful, and that our misery, present or future, comes all by
sin that brings us hither. At this time, by common con-
sent, all serious people think of such things as these, and
go softly and bow down beneath the darkness and the pres-
sure of them. We are like travellers that have come at
midnight to a river which they must cross ; they hear the
soft lap of the water, and the moaning of the wind, and in
the darkness they can see nothing of the other side. Hand
in hand they go into the stream, hoping thus to get more
safety over. Or we are like travellers who come to a place
U
290 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
where dangers are met, or where, at any rate, it has long
been the habit of pilgrim people to realise dangers and
provide against them ; and tliey close their ranks, and go
silently and watchfully and in order through the forest or
through ,the defile. So we, in our frailty, in our change-
fulness, in our pilgrim march — saddest of all, in our sin —
have come hither. We are subdued and solemnised. Some
are afraid and some are distressed, and some are footsore
and very weary, and some are wounded almost to the quick ;
and so, Avith closed ranks, with silent footfall, with hushed
breath, we meet the inevitable hour. And we especially
listen to hear if there be any message to us all that will
help to lift us above our fears, and to carry us on our way
with some increase of thankfulness and courage.
" Listen — ' I, even I, am He that blotteth out thy trans-
gressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy
sins.' ' I have blotted out as a thick cloud thy transgres-
sions, and as a cloud thy sins. Return unto me, for I have
redeemed thee.'
"Listen, while the voice grows more soft and tender
yet, falling evidently from human lips, from some One very
near to us all, as we thus keep near to each other — ' Son,
daughter, thy sins are forgiven thee ; go in peace.' There
is surely an especial preciousness in the doctrine of divine
forgiveness on a night like this, when the sin of the whole
year seems, if we try to reckon it, to gather into one cloud
of overwhelming midnight blackness.
" Think how many doors of opportunity have opened
and shut again for ever during the year, leaving us outside ;
think of the unkind Avords spoken ; think of the poor self-
discipline ; think of the loveless hours ; think of the despite
done to the Spirit of God ; think how you have listened and
LAST DAYS. 291
looked, while this poor world sang and spread forth her
lure, and how deaf and blind you have often been to the
voices and visions of Eternity ; think of what all this would
entail and bring forth if left to work on to its simple and
natural issues ; think how sin, Avhen it is finished, bringeth
forth Death — think of all this, that you may be thankful in
your inmost hearts for the frank, full, free forgiveness of
the Gospel. ...
"ii/e, life in Christ — 'Eternal life, the gift of God by
Him.' Very sweet is this word also to us on such a night
as this. The year is dying, and in some faint sense we
may be said almost to be dying with the year. We bow
the head in reverence and lift the heart in prayer, not be-
cause so much duration has been marked off from Eternal
Time, but because we feel that we ourselves are going hence
in no long time to be no more seen. This, indeed, is to us
to-night a kind of dying. In many a breast there is more
emotion through this transition hour, and a deeper sense of
mortality, and of the vanity of earthly things, than there
will be on the dying day. We thus antedate our death ;
we know, and to-night watching at the bedside of the dying
year we feel, that we spend our years as a tale that is told,
and that soon this poor vapour of mortal life will have
vanished away. But we ourselves hope to live again :
rather we hope to live on without suspension of being. Our
meeting to-night means this. We are here not merely to
close the eyes ■ of the year, but in our faith and hope to
surmount and transcend all the years of earthly history —
to lay hold on Eternal Life. This hope becomes the more
precious, and perhaps the more real to us, as we near the
time of its final and full accomplishment."
Early in January he began to prepare his Lectures
292 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
on Esther for the press. It was a sudden thought, and
once begun, he worked hard at the volume, devoting
to it every spare moment, and sometimes writing on
till a late hour at night. When urged to pause he
would only answer — " I must get the book done." It
was finished ; tlie proof-sheets were corrected with his
failing hand, and the publisher's parcel arrived a week
before his death. He insisted on unpacking the books
himself, and smiled at his own pleasure as he cut up
the first copy, saying, " It is strange, but I enjoy read-
ing my own book." He tried to put up these he had
destined for friends, bvit his strength was not equal to
the task.
He presided on 1st February 1880 at the Com-
munion Service in Kensington Chapel. His sermon,
written the week before, was upon the words of our
Lord, " With desire I have desired to eat this passover
with you before I suffer " (Luke xxii. 1 5). Soon after
this time the first symptoms of illness appeared, and
it was with diificulty that he continued to preach as
usual. A visit to Highbury, in the third week of
February, brought no improvement, and on Sunday,
2 2d February, he preached in the morning only. His
text was, " And Enoch walked with God ; and he was
not, for God took him" (Gen. v. 24).^
It was his last sermon, and some who heard it
took away with them the impression that it was so.
One on returning home said, " I have heard to-day
what I never expect to hear again in this world." It
^ This sermon is one of those included in The Way to the City.
LAST DAYS. 293
was not so much an appearance of illness tliat caused
this feeling. There was something in his countenance,
and in the tones of his voice, which suggested the
nearness of the better life. But although his latest
utterances were thus almost prophetic, there was in
his own mind no conscious premonition of his de-
parture. He said to a friend shortly before this time,
" I feel quite young whenever I get into the pulpit. I
think I have ten years' work before me yet." In
February he went frequently to see a youth who was
djdng of consumption, and tenderly sympathised with
him in his unwillingness to give up life so early. " Of
course you want to live," he said. " Even I do who
am so much older, and I hope to live many years."
When death was near to tliis young friend, and he was
sent for, he was so ill that we hesitated to give the
message. He went, however, at once, although the
afternoon was cold and wet. He said afterwards that
his visits there had been " a great good " to himself ;
and we know, in the words of one who was present,
that " they were the greatest help and comfort to the
dying boy. It is impossible to express how much Dr.
Ealeigh was to us during that time of trouble ; how
great was his kindness, his gentleness, his simplicity."
He had often wished " to die in harness ; " to be of use
to the end, and God gave him his desire.
At the request of his deacons he and his wife went
from home on 25th February in the expectation that,
as often before, rest and pure air wovild restore him
to health. At first the change (to Bognor) brought
294 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
cheerfulness and liope. The quiet was refreshing, and
lie had much enjoyment in walking by the sea or in
the country lanes. Yet his strength visibly dimin-
ished, and wlien in a few days he returned to London
tlie first shadows of fear began to fall.
To Mr. Henry Wright, 2d March 1880.
Bognor.
" I had your letter from Brighton this morning giving
good tidings of you and yours, in Avhich I thankfidly rejoice.
May it still be well with you in your goings out and in
your comings in, ' from this time forth, even for evermore.'
" As for me, I am making very little, if any, way health-
wards. Weakness, almost continual pain, and one day like
another, don't make a very bright lot on the earthward
side of things for one Avho for so many years has had almost
unbroken health, and has found no happiness so great as
that of active service in the Gospel. But I have not a
murmuring thought. I am being led as kindly and ten-
derly as ever before. My anxieties are all about others,
and about those great interests which for the present I
cannot actively promote. But He to whom tliose interests
are far dearer than they are to any of His servants will
watch over them also in His own way. So it must be trust
and confidence all round. And so it shall be, with His
help. ..."
" To my Flock and Friends in Kensington Chapel.
" 27 Ladbroke Grove, 20th March 1880.
" I must try to write a line to tell you what a great
grief it is to me that I am still prevented from meeting you
face to face. Pain and weariness have been my portion
LAST DAYS. 295
during these last weeks. But God has upheld me by His
great goodness, and enabled me to cast all my care on
Him, and to commit all my way to Him. Indeed, I may say
I have but one serious care — the care that arises in my
heart when I think of you, and of your interests in the
Gospel. . . . Nor can I doubt that this unexpected and
nndesired illness of your pastor is among the ' all things '
which may work together for your good. With prayer
and patience on your part and on mine, it will certainly be
so, and our God will supply all our need, ' according to
His glorious riches in Christ Jesus.'
" I am assured by the deacons that I may go on in the
use of the best means for recovery with a quiet mind, and
in the confidence that you will willingly and prayerfully
wait for my restoration to health, and for what, if God
graciously gives it, will be certainly to me, even more than
to you, a happy return to my work. Of course all waiting
of this kind must have reasonable limits. But I think you
may be assured that I am not likely to forget them. I
thank God I have so much reason to wish it ; and I
hope before very long to be able to put my hand again
to a work which, in some ways at least, has prospered so
well. ..."
Dr. Bennett (now Sir Pdsdon Bennett) and Mr. E.
W. Tait of Highbury, brought to his case all the skill
of their large experience, and all the assiduities of
long-tried friendship ; but as the weeks passed their
anxiety increased, and they saw reason to think that
his ailment was beyond the reach of medical skill. On
the- 30th of March Sir James Paget and Mr. Gowland
met them in consultation, and confirmed their worst
fears. On Mr. Tait, his friend for many years, de-
29G ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
volved the task of telling him their joint opinion. It
was very gently told. After a silence, the words came,
" Then my ministry is ended." Eeceiving a word of
assent he was again silent, but in a few minutes
exclaimed, "My ministry! — it is dearer than my
life ! " Till that time he had not thought of his ill-
ness as probably fatal. Mercifully, the very con-
sciousness of present life provides some defence in
such a trial, and the unbelief of affection gives shelter
for a time from the terrible truth. It seemed possible
that there might be some unexpected relief — some
unknown spring of healing which God might touch.
His strength for a few days seemed to return, and he
even talked hopefully of the possibility of a quiet life
in the country, with his books and his pen, and leisure
to use them. And he was so brave and uncomplain-
ing, so anxious to do everything as if he were well,
that it was difficult to believe that a life so full was
about to end. He was all day in his study — reading,
or listening while some one read to him. His children
were around him, and he entered into their pursuits
with even more than his usual interest. Till within
three days of his death he spent the evenings with his
family, enjoyed music as he always did, and even con-
versed with friends who happened to call. These were
suffering days, but not once did he utter an impatient
word, or even speak in an impatient tone.
Once only he was under depression of mind. It
was the day after the consultation before mentioned.
He was reclining and looking out, as he liked to do, on
LAST DAYS. 297
the early green of the budding trees. A weight of
sadness seemed to be upon him, tears stole from his
eyes, and he said to his wife, " I feel as if I were for-
saken ; as if God had forsaken me." He appeared to
see himself thrown aside, — " out of mind," — " like a
broken vessel." The shadow did not last long, and it
never returned. As the strength of the body declined
the spirit's life grew more intense, and while he de-
sired, and even hoped to live, he was willing to die.
Life was dear to him, and his earthly vocation, brought
under the pure light of the other world, seemed greater
and more worthy than ever before. " I think I coidd
preach now, if only I were well ! " he would say.
Again : " It is not very reasonable, perhaps, that I
should wish so much to recover after having lived so
long — sixty-three years — but I do wish it."
His most frequent utterances were those of sub-
mission. " I do not want my will to be done, but His
perfect will." Thinking of the fatigue and anxiety his
ilhiess brought to his wife, he said, " I wish I did not
need to give so much trouble ; " then, checking him-
self, " I retract that. I made a resolution that I
would not allow myself even to think in that way. I
do not wish an}-thing to be different from what it is."
To a friend who said to him, " Oh, Dr. Ealeigh, if only
you were better ! " he replied, " Better ! this is hest —
this is lest." He had decided to resign his charge,
when, on 1st April, a resolution was sent to him from
the church, expressing tender sympathy, and relieving
liim from all responsibility for three months. He wag
298 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
touched by this opportune khidness, one among many
acts of his people's thoughtful love. We give his
reply : —
To Mr. Henry AVrigiit, Sunday Morning, -ith April 1880.
27 Ladbroke Grove.
"... Will you kindly say to the brethren that I find
no words by wliicli I miglit fully express my grateful sense
of their kindness and consideration.
" My own sense of duty suggested to me another course
than that which they now put before me, but I' feel that it
would be a poor requital of the great trust and love they
are now showing to me to feel any hesitation in accepting
their very kind proposal.
" In these next months, or perhaps even as the weeks
go by, light will come to us all. I can assure the church
that no effort shall be wanting on my part to realise their
best hopes. May the Lord Himself bless people and
pastor ! I am refreshed by their love, I reckon much on
their prayers, and I can assure them that in my most
troubled times they shall not be forgotten in mine."
In reference to one of the meetings for prayer held
on his behalf, he said, " Yes, I was thinking of them ;
I was praying for them. I made to God one request
after another until I came to my own case. Then I
stopped, and thought, ' I will leave myself to them and
to God.' "
Dr. Ealeigh's beloved friend, the Eev. Joshua
Harrison, has put on record some recollections which
find a place here : —
" It was on the Tuesday before his death that I saw
LAST DAYS. 299
my dear friend Dr. Kaleigli for the last time. He was
.lying on a sofa in his study, looking very weak and exceed-
ingly emaciated. There was a hue on his countenance
which made me fear the worst. But I spoke cheerfully to
him, and though there was a tone of deep seriousness in
his manner, he maintained a quiet cheerfulness all through.
What he said called forth many remarks from me ; these
I do not care to repeat, but his own words deserve to be
remembered. ' I cannot hide from myself,' he said, ' that
my case is very grave. It is not absolutely hopeless, per-
haps, and therefore I feel bound to get the best helps in
my power, and to concur Avith the physicians in whatever
they recommend. I have no fear respecting the future,
and therefore I am quite free to give thought to any mea-
sures that are deemed desirable. The great things — sin,
an all-sufficient, all -gracious Saviour, His glorious work,
the everlasting love, the everlasting life — these, and such
things were settled long ago, they are to me unquestionable
realities. This, you see, sets me at liberty from myself and
all anxious forebodings, and enables me to attend to pre-
sent duty, and to what the body may just now require.
" ' In any case I may well be content and thankful, I
am not an old man, yet I have lived long and worked
hard. I have had, on the whole, a most happy, and I
think I may say successful ministry. God has blessed my
work, and has always given me true friends. If I have
finished my work I am ready to go. Indeed, I should
have no regrets ' (and here he broke down) ' but for these
dear ones.'
" I reminded him of the many prayers which had been
offered on his behalf. ' Yes,' he replied, ' my people's
prayers make me sometimes think I may have a little more
work to do ; but if not, I shall calmly march up to the
Gates.'
300 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
" I prayed with him, and he seemed to join in the
prayer with peculiar fervour. He was especially touched
with our Lord's words which I quoted — ' the Father Himself
loveth you.' As I rose to take leave of him, he said, with
a pleasant, grateful smile, ' Remember, I am by no means
the most unhappy man in London to-day, in spite of pain
and Aveakness.' "
A week before his death, when Mr. Statham, his
friend and successor at Hare Court, told him of the
sympathy and prayers of his friends there, he expressed
grateful pleasure. " Yes, I like to hear that you re-
membered me. I do not wish excitement about me,
but where I laboured so long it is different." During
the same conversation he said, " My thoughts do not
take firm shape in the pain and weariness. Pray with
me a little ; " adding afterwards, " Yes, I think I have
looked the great mystery in the face. It is all right.
It is all well."
His interest in passing events, and in the political
movements of the day continued unabated. Dr. Allou,
speaking of the last interview he had with hmi, says,
" After a few words concerning the hope and the fear,
and his desire to work a little longer if it were God's
will, he suddenly, and witli kindling animation, referred
to the elections then going on. ' Well,' he said, ' there
is comfort in dying when the nation is recovered to
righteousness and a righteous Government.' "
All his affairs were arranged, and his papers put
in order by his own hand. The position in which
these were found spoke toucliingly of his desire that
LAST DAYS. 301
even in little things all trouble should be spared to
those he was leaving.
There are memories of these last weeks too sacred
for any record. Those who were permitted to see
him, with the meek patience of suffering, crowning
tenderly as with an aureole all his strength of thought
and will, are thankful to God that the grace which he
had so often commended to others was found sufticient
for himself; that the anchor cast long before within
the vail held — " sure and steadfast " — in the strain of
the last storm.
In conversation with his friend and physician Dr.
Bennett, and " trying," as he himself expressed it, " to
get a thread of hope from him," he found there was
absolutely none. Sir Eisdon recalls his look, the
characteristic movement of his hand, and the quiet
words which came as from a heart at rest. " Well,
the cup which my Father hath given me shall I not
drink it ? "
Till a very few days before his death he was able to
take frequent drives into the country, often choosing
the neighbourhood of Eichmond, and he looked with
pathetic affection on the spring beauty of the world he
was leaving, and the glory of the blossoming trees.
Flowers sent daily by friends, and the love which came
to him in continual acts of tenderness, touched him
with a kind of happy surprise, and he would say, " It is
wonderful how many people take an interest in me."
His nights, almost sleepless, were long and weary.
302 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
He Vas "filled with tossings to and fro," and used
to exclaim, " Oh, Thou who slumbcrest not nor sleep-
est, send some sleep to me ! " When the first gleam
of morning broke he would say, " Draw up the blinds,
let in the light — there is nothing so sweet to me as
the light." Or, "Open the window and let me see
my birds." Their happy movements seemed a sad con-
trast to his weariness and pain. One night — it was the
fourth before his death — he endured very severe suffer-
ing. It was terrible to witness. In the midst of it he
exclaimed, " Ye shall all drink of my cup ; " and to his .
wife, "You would let me go if this were to last." The
attack left him sorely shattered, and from that time he
spoke of his desire to live as a thing of the past. " I
wished it, but I am content." He continued to spend
every day except the very last in his study, and even
walked about from room to room.
Throughout the night of l7th April he was very
restless, and said, " I have not been able for two days
to think any religious thoughts, but I know that I am
His." When the morning came (Sunday), his coun-
tenance wore the changed look we learn to know too
well, and he spoke of his departure as at hand, as
indeed we felt it was. His wife, wishing as usual to
send a message to be read to his people, asked him
what it should be. He hesitated, saying, "I do not
want to alarm them, and it looks as if I were of such
importance if I send a message." He consented, how-
ever, and dictated a few words. Many things were
talked over, and last words spoken during the day.
LAST DAYS. 303
The wrench of parting was still hard to him, and the
spring sunshine seemed too glad for dying eyes.
" Everything is as bright as if I were well," he said ;
but looked an earnest assent when reminded that in
this lay the hidden promise of a better spring-time.
Some food being brought to him, of which he tried in
vain to partake, he put it gently aside, saying, " The
Bread of Life is near." Again : " I should like to go to-
day ; it is my day," His whispered words to his child-
ren ; his expressed thoughts and cares about their
future ; his last looks of love and welcome, are laid up
in the sacred silence of the heart " till the day dawn."
As the evening drew on he became restless with the
restlessness so common at the approach of death. The
weary spirit, finding home no longer in the dissolving
body, was struggling to break the chain and enter into
the life of liberty. The eyes, always so res^Donsive to
the light, grew dim, unconsciousness fell gradually over
him, and before we knew it he was away beyond reach
of loving word or touch of ours. But we believe he
was not beyond the reach of higher ministries. As the
long night passed, and the slow dawn found him still
waiting at the gate, perhaps there came to his spirit
the first whispers of heavenly fellowships. Perhaps
" Jesus Himself drew near and went with him."
Shortly after noon on Monday, 19th April 1880, he
entered calmly into rest.
He was buried in the west corner of Abney Park
304 ALEXANDER RALEIGH.
Cemetery, not in a vault, Lut as lie desired, "under
the daisies." The funeral crossed London, and passed
through Highbury New Park, where his feet had trod
for many years of happy service. His coffin went
down to the grave covered with white flowers, in pre-
sence of a great multitude, hushed in a common sorrow.
And once more w^e write —
" Fulfilled,'' — over against the Saviour's promise :
" I WILL COME AGAIN, AKD EECEIVE YOU UNTO MY-
SELF ; THAT WHERE I AM THERE YE MAY BE ALSO."
INDEX.
Abnet Paek, 237, 300.
Abraham in Egypt, 247.
Alexander, ■ Rev. Dr., criticises
CliairmanshiiD Address, 142.
Allon, Rev. Dr., 78, 94, 132, 300.
quoted, 231.
American Mission, 125.
Austin, Mr., quoted, 210.
Arnold, Rev. Dr., quoted, 69.
Matthew, quoted, 233.
Arran, island of, 84.
Articles, question of subscription to,
117.
Athens described, 262.
Atkinson, Rev. J. W., at Hare
Court, 171.
Balgarnie, Rev. R., quoted, 55.
Baptismal regeneration, 116.
Basle described, 175.
Baxter, 89 ; Kingsley's opinion of,
116.
Beecher, Rev. H. W., speech by,
129.
Benmore, open-air sermon at, 277.
Bennett, Sir R., quoted, 213.
Bethany visited, 255.
Bethesda Chapel, Liverpool, de-
scribed, 14.
Bethlehem visited, 254.
Bicentenary, celebration of, 1862,
116.
Binney, Rev. Thomas, 17, 139 ; at
Stamford Hill, 227 ; death of,
235, 266.
Birds, love of, 209, 302.
Birmingham ministry, 42.
Blackburn, college life at, 17 ; first
sermon preached at, 200.
Bognor, visit to, 293.
Books a necessity, 194.
Boston, Council of American
Churches at, 125.
Bradford, speech at, 60.
Bristol, Union meeting and sjieeches
on America, 135.
British Quarterly Bevieiv, articles
on American War, 128.
Brooklyn, sermon at, 130.
Browning, Mrs., quoted, 70, 148,
189, 207.
Bulley, Mrs., quoted, 44.
Bunker Hill anniversary, 131.
Bunyan at Hare Court, 89 ; quoted,
289.
Burial Service of the Church, 119.
Burns quoted, 51.
Burridge quoted, 125.
Byron quoted, 251.
Cairo described, 240.
" Calumnies confuted," 116.
Calvinism disclaimed, 118.
Cameron's grave, 28.
Caraeronian Church, 3-6.
Campbell, Rev. J. M., of Row, 4.
Rev. Dr., of the Tabernacle, 106.
Mr., of Monzie, 112.
Canada visited, 133.
Candlish, Rev. Dr., in Greenock, 34 ;
his power of sleep, 60.
Canonbury ministry, 90.
Castle - Douglas, town, 1 ; high
school, 7.
X
306
INDEX.
"Changed aspects of Evangelical
faith," 280.
Charity describefl, 286.
Cheapside, accident in, 100.
Children, love of, 278 ; thoughts on
education of, 21 ; letters to, 61,
184, 234 ; deaths of, 63, 76.
" Christianitj' and modern progress,"
141 ; evidences of Christianity,
lectures, 278.
Christiausand described, 101.
Church of England, 117, 143 ; in
Jerusalem, 253 ; church rates,
65.
"City fever," 178.
Cockaj'n, the founder of Hare
Court Chapel, 89.
Communion, Cameroniau, 6 ; at
Basle, 177 ; communion sermons,
221 ; last communion at Ken-
sington, 292.
Concerts, Dr. Vaughan's opinion of,
22.
Congregational Union, 141 ; debate
on doctrinal basis of, 274.
Conversion, doctrine of, 15, 206.
Covenanters, stories of, 8.
Cowper quoted, 29.
Creeds, use of, 275.
Crescent Chapel, Liverpool, 14.
Crimean War, 65.
Cracifix, possible uses of, 174.
Cuban deputation on slavery q\ies-
tion, 134.
Cudworth, 26.
Culture and Faith, 211.
Darwen, Eev. S. Porter's ministry
at, 18.
Davies, Rev. R., student days, 19 ;
quoted, 21.
Depression, religious, 222.
Disestablishment advocated, 143.
Disputes at Hare Court, 229.
Doggerbank described, 101.
Dogma necessary, 197.
Ebenezer Chapel, Birmingham, 42.
Egypt described, 238.
Elgin Place, Glasgow, 72 ; opening
of new chapel at, 78.
Eliot, George, quoted, 12.
Esther, Look- of, 115 ; published
lectures on, 292.
Evangelical faith, 280 ; use of the
Bible, 282.
Faber quoted, 18, 223.
Falding, Rev. Dr., quoted, 57.
Flock Farm, 1.
Ford's Theatre, Washington, 132.
Forest of Dean, 277.
Forsaith, Mr., quoted, 216, 221.'
Foster, study of the writings of, 54.
France, remarks on, 173.
Freedmen in America, 131, 140.
GiFFORD, Mary, 39 ; death of Mr.
James, 113.
Glasgow ministry, 70 ; serious ill-
ness at, 78 ; imiversity degi-ee,
122.
" God's purpose and man's oppor-
tunity," — missionary sermon, 98.
Granite coxmtry, influence of, 8.
Greenhorne, Mr. A., death of, 273.
Greenock ministry, 29 ; induction,
32 ; sailors and their friends, 96.
Hare Court Chapel, history of, 89.
Harrison, Rev. Joshua, quoted, 298.
Harvard visited, 128.
Heatou described, 39.
Heaven, 271.
Heliopolis, 241.
Herbert, George ; his poem Con-
stancy, 211.
Hermon, 261.
Hopefulness, duty of, 287.
Howard, General, 131.
Howe, John, 26, 99.
Immortality, 237, 245.
Independency, 148 ; Kingsley on
the early Independents, 122.
Inspiration of the Bible, 142.
Irish Church, 143.
Jacob in Egji^t, 247; "Jacob's
Well," 225, 255.
Jefi"rey's death, 66.
Jericho, walls of, 111 ; visited, 255.
Jerusalem visited, 252 ; Bishop of,
253.
INDEX.
307
Johnson, President, 132.
Jonah, 115.
Jones, Rev. Thomas, 122.
Judgment, Egyptian notion of, 245.
Keble quoted, 89.
Kelly, Rev. John, of Liverpool, 13 ;
ordination charge at Greenock, 32.
Kensington ministry, 265 ; new
church begun, 276.
Kingsley, Rev. Charles, correspond-
ence with, 116.
Kirkconnel Moor, 9.
Lancashire College, 19 ; annual
meeting of, 47 ; lectures on
preaching at, 190.
Lancashire Famine, 113.
Liberal opinions, 65, 82, 213, 300.
Lisceard ministry, 43.
Little Sanctuary jjublished, 115.
Liturgy, question of reform of, 118.
Liverpool life, 12.
Lloyd, Bishop, 244.
Lockhart, Dr., goes to China, 16.
Lockhart, Miss (Mrs. Hampsou),
her Journal quoted, 16, 20,
London, invitation to, 84.
Longfellow, visit to, 128.
M'All, Rev. S., quoted, 62.
M'Allum, Rev. Mr., 75.
Macbeth, Rev. R., quoted, 24.
M'Cheyne, Rev. R., quoted, 238,
253, 257.
MacDouald, George, quoted, 171.
M'Leod, Norman, 122 ; on the Sab-
bath, 123.
Manchester College, 19.
Marathon, 263.
Marsh, Mr. J. B., quoted, 62.
Mary, the name, 235.
Maslooro' ministry, 49.
Mayflower, the, 135.
Mellor, Rev. E., quoted, 23, 218 ;
opening of new chapel, 78 ; his
death, irreface.
Merchant lecture, 99.
Milton and Cockayn, 89.
Missen, Lake, 102.
Missionary sermon, 97 ; mission
work, Glasgow, 75 ; London, 90.
Money, 52.
Montenegro, 260.
Montreal, 133.
Moses in Egypt, 247.
Mountains described, 179.
Nature, love of, 59, 193.
Nazareth, 256.
New Brighton, 43.
New College, 189.
New- Year service, 1880, 289.
Newton, John, on London life, 108.
Northampton, Mass., 138.
Norway, visit to, 100.
Osborne, John, of Dumfries, 4 ;
sermon at Kirkconnel Moor, 9.
Owen, John, 99.
Palestine, visit to, 249 ; its place
in history, 253.
Palgrave, F. T., quoted, 105.
Pamphlets against Dr. Raleigh, 229.
Peden "the Prophet," 28.
Pilgi'im fathers, 137.
Pilgrims to Jerusalem, 249.
Plymouth Rock, 131.
Politics in the pulpit, 213.
Porter, Rev. S., at Darwen, 18 ; at
Glasgow, 71.
Prayers in public worship, 83, 217 ;
in sickness, 156.
Preaching, lectures on, 189 ; the
preacher's vocation, 190 ; modern
preaching criticised, 284.
Proctor, A. A., quoted, 12.
Punctuality, 105.
Puritan theology, 13 ; and Puritan
leisure, 108 ; influence on New
England, 135.
Q,imi Restinrj Places, 109, 114.
Rachel's tomb, 254.
Recitation, gift of, 254.
Resignation, Greenock, 35 ; Rother-
ham, 67 ; Glasgow, 84 ; Hare
Court, 266 ; special difficulty of,
to Independent ministers, 67.
Resurrection Chamber, 246.
Rogers quoted, 238.
Rotherham, 45.
308
INDFA'.
" Row Heresy," 4.
Ruskin quoted, 8.
Rutherford, Samuel, quoted, x.
Sabbath question, 123.
Salt, Sir Titus, death of, 272.
San Moritz, 183.
Scarborough, new chapel, 122.
Scott, Sir Walter, last journey of,
56.
Seamen's Chapel, sermons at, 32.
Sermons, old, 215.
Sharon, plain of, 250.
Siloam, 253.
Simon, Rev. H., 227.
Smith, Dr. George, 125.
Society, 269.
Stamford Hill Chapel, 223.
Stanley, Canon, on the Articles,
117.
Staunton Rectory, 276.
Stoughton, Rev. Dr., 265.
Switzerland, sojourn in, 171.
Tait, Mr. E. W., quoted, 231.
Taylor, Bayard, quoted, title-page.
Tennyson quoted, 36.
Text, choice of a, 202, 215.
Texts : — " I will not eat," etc., 6 ;
" From this day will I bless you,"
15 ; " And the Lord added," etc.,
32 ; "Why are ye so fearful ? "
33; "Honour all men," 33;
"Except ye repent," 50; "He
led them by a right way," 86;
" Who knoweth whether thou art
come," etc., 98 ; Quiet Resting
Places, 109 ; "The voice of the
Lord God walking in the garden,"
120 ; " We all do fade," 209 ;
" A time of m\ich rain," 213 ;
"Jacob's well," 225 ; "A man in
Christ," 277 ; " With desire I
have desired," etc., 292; "And
Enoch walked with God," 292.
Theatre, opinion of, 22.
Thebes, 242.
Thomson, quoted, 139, 288.
Thorpe, John, of Masboro', 50.
Thrieve Castle, 10.
Titles of Sermons, 216.
Toronto, 133.
Uniformity, Act of, 117.
Usher, Archbishop, 244.
Vaughan, Robert, at Manchester,
22, 42 ; against abridging College
course, 31 ; in America, 125.
Villars, 172.
Viney, Mr., quoted, 263.
Visitation, pastoral, 74, 95.
Walkers of Masboro', 49.
Walker, Mr. Thomas, quoted, 217.
Wallenstein quoted, 243.
War on the Rhine, 183.
Wardlaw, Rev. Gilbert, 18; Rev.
Ralph, at Greenock, 32 ; ministry
in Glasgow, 70.
Watts, Sir James, 36, 77.
Wesley, John, at Masboro', 49.
Wentworth House, 66.
West George Street Chapel, 70.
Wheeling, Ohio, 132.
Whitfield at Masboro', 49.
Whittier quoted, 265.
Wilkes, Dr., of Montreal, 133.
Williams quoted, 58.
Wordsworth quoted, 1.
Yorkshire College, 50.
zweistmmen, 172.
THE END.
Printed by R. & R. Clark, Edinburgh.
ALEXANDER BALEIGH'S
W^OBKS.
Second Edition, Croiim Svo, Price 7s. 6d.
THE WAY TO THE CITY
AND OTHER SERMONS.
Contents : — The Inner jNFan ; The Father ; Christ's Love
TO HIS Own ; Tarry one for Another {Sacramental) ;
One Family in Heaven and Earth ; Gethsemane ;
Weeping and Joy ; The Strength and Courage
needed for Common Life ; An Holy Man op God ;
The Little Chamber on the Wall ; The Breadth
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THE JFAY TO THE CITY— Continued.
Untrodden Way ; I will Trust, and not be Afraid ;
No Night there ; The Journey to Emmaus ; He
PLEASED God.
This is a beautiful memorial volume of the late Dr.
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terised by the preacher's intensity, earnestness, spirituality,
and exceeding beauty of style. By a beautiful and charac-
teristic coincidence tlie last sermon was the last Avritten by
the author, shortly before his death, on Enoch's walk wuth
God. The Church of Christ in these realms sufiered no
small loss by the extinction of this " burning and shining
light." We rejoice that his widow has given to us this
beautiful and edifying memento of her distinguished hus-
band. — The JFatchman.
This is a rich and fragrant memorial of one of our noblest
men and chiefest preachers. His own purpose did not super-
intend the choice of these discourses for publication, nor his
own fastidious and critical taste prepare them for the public
eye, but they do not suffer from this circumstance. His
manuscripts must been left in a state of singular complete-
ness, and his ordinary pastoral workmanship have been of
an exceptionally high class. The choice has been made with
the admirable wisdom and the fine task of tender love. We
can hardly be too grateful for the delicate appreciation wliich
Mrs. Kaleighhas revealed of Avhut w^as essentially character-
istic of Dr. Raleigh's method of presenting vital truths.
Here we see his firm grasp of the great principles of evidence
coupled with the weight he always gave to the spiritual
vision, as in the noble sermons on the resolution of the
doubt of Thomas, and that upon the sublime paradox of
" Moses seeing the invisible." We have some of the most
THE JFAY TO THE CITY— Continued.
charming illustrations of his dainty fancy, which, ethereal
as a dream, yet have their vital links with the Biblical
metaphor, as in his sumi^tuous setting, in a kind of holy
apologue, of " weeping enduring for a night, and joy coming
in the morning." This volume increases our appetite for
more ; and we cannot resist the impression that the loving
hands which have ministered this boon have it in their
power to satisfy the desire. Dr. Ealeigh was one of those
very few men " who are missed much." — Evangelical Maga-
zine.
All who 'have heard Dr. Ealeigh preach, or v,dio have
read his sermons, will turn with interest to this volume,
which contains the last of those exquisite discourses that he
always preached. Dr. Ealeigh was a poet as well as a
preacher. — Sheffield Independent.
All the sermons are short — but brevity is not a fault — ■
and all are beautiful and helpful. We frankly confess that
we are subject to a rather common feeling, that of weariness
in reading sermons, but these sermons are not wearisome.
We have read on with unflagging interest, and are at a loss
to specify our favourites. — Bradford Observer.
A great many volumes of sermons are annually pub-
lished concerning which it might be said that nobody would
be the worse if they had never emerged from the obscurity
of manuscript. But in this category, certainly, cannot be
included the collection of sermons by the late Dr. Alexander
Ealeigh, which his widow has edited under the title. The
Way to the City. Though during his lifetime some of them
were printed, their present issue is in fulfilment of his own
wish, and there is not one of them which is not marked by
TUB IFAY TO THE CITY— Continued.
the spirituality of tone, tlie breadth and catholicity of view,
the simple yet fiuislied eloquence, and the fine culture which
were eminently characteristic of Dr. Raleigh himself. It is
difficult to believe that anybody, however widely he may
differ from the preacher on points of doctrine, or even on
fundamental articles of faith, could read such a sermon as
that on " Certainties," for example, without recognising that
he was in the presence of a mind reverent of the truth, and
caring little for the husks in which it may be wrapped. —
Scotsman.
There are many to Avhom tliis volume will come with
peculiar fragrance of association. Dr. Ealeigh's influence
was bound up closely with personal elements, but he was
particularly happy oftentimes in conveying hints of them
in his writings. The j^rinted page speaks very efficiently for
him in many ways. His fine insight, his tenderness, his
quick sympathetic approaches to the heart of a subject —
these are all to be seen in full measure here. In spite of
the fact that some of the sermons included are imfinished,
the volume is very complete in the image it presents of Dr.
Ealeigh's gifts and character. Nay, it seems to us that it is
the more rich and suggestive, inasmuch as we are, through
the very incompleteness of some of the sermons, now and
then led closer to the heart of the preacher than might other-
wise have been the case. AVe seem to catch his thought
fresh and in its first form, warm with the glow of emotion,
while yet it seems to lose little or none of the grace and
felicity by which his finished exercises were always distin-
guished. — Nonconformist.
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character of the book." — Contemporarjj Review.
" Sermons of great beauty and power, such as rarely
issue from the press. We can only wish them the widest
possible circulation." — British Quarterlij Review.
*' "We must lay down this volume ; it cannot be less
dehghtful than usual. We have quoted sufficiently to show
that the reader will find, in almost any page, a quiet resting-
place in its short graphic pictures, and revealings of homes
and hearts in its pensive but never merely sentimental still-
ness ; in its, we had almost said, robust language, and its
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THE
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Its ^rartiral Urssons anti Dramatic
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Contents : — (1.) The Feast ; (2.) How the Feast
ENDED ; (3.) ThE NeW Ql^EEN ; (4.) HaMAN AND
MoRDECAi; (5.) Deepening Trouble; (6.) The
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THE BOOK OF ESTHER— Continued.
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high order of literary beauty. One is instructed by pene-
trating spiritual insight, and surprised and charmed by the
easy felicitous way in which a great variety of practical
religious lessons are adduced and applied. The Book of
Esther, as presented by the preacher, is full of dramatic
exhibitions of character, and of pertinent and important
illustrations of religious life." — British Quarterly Review.
" This book is one which may be read and re-read
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