KILMANY
1803-1815
On the 12th day of May 1803, Mr. Chalmers was ordained by the Presbytery
of Cupar to the ministry of Kilmany. Never did the settlement of a young
man of twenty-three create less interest in the mind of the person
principally concerned. There is no evidence either of that elation of
feeling which a young man naturally has in taking possession of a church
and manse, and filling an important place in a community; or of that
overwhelming sense of responsibility which so solemn a charge excites in
a serious mind. It was not the ministry but mathematics that held the
first place in his heart. Notwithstanding his settlement as minister of
Kilmany, he was bent on being re-appointed to the mathematical
assistantship during the ensuing winter. His predecessor in that office
had been minister of a parish for six out of the eleven years when he
had held it; what reasonable objection could there be to his holding it
for a single session?
After what had happened at the end of last session, it was no great
wonder that his employer should inform him that his services were no
longer needed. This could hardly have been a surprise, though it was a
disappointment; but when it was indicated that inefficiency was the
cause of his dismissal, it was viewed as an intolerable insult.
Inefficiency, forsooth! If he should submit to that, it would be a
deathblow to all his hopes of literary and scientific advancement, and
it would shut him out for ever from all hope of a university chair.
Unabashed by the treatment of the professors, he resolved to defy them,
and to open classes on his own account during the ensuing session. He
was too self-confident and self-reliant to care what might be said of
him, either by the professors or the public; but there was one quarter
in which he was desirous to conciliate approval, or at least to prevent
condemnation. He found it necessary to give reasons to his father for
not confining himself to the duties of his ministerial charge. The
chief reason was, that, apart from preaching, the duties were slight and
easy, and it was his intention, while spending the week in St. Andrews,
to return to Kilmany on Saturdays for Sunday duties, while two of his
neighbours were willing to attend to any urgent week-day matters that
might arise. The truth is, he had by a kind of unconscious instinct
accepted the views of the 'Moderates,'--a school, in the language of Mr.
Dodds, 'which was neither true Christian nor good pagan; had neither the
unction of Knox nor the yearning desire for truth and goodness of an
Epictetus or a Cicero.'
When he began his classes at St. Andrews, he of course had to encounter
many hard sayings and much opposition. But he was confident of his
integrity in thus repelling practically an injurious charge; and with no
little dignity and force maintained that he was bound to take this step
in order to uphold his reputation as a teacher. And such was his
simplicity and geniality of manner that he felt no embarrassment in
going about among the very professors and others who had condemned him
most. After a few weeks, in addition to his three classes of
mathematics, he announced his intention of opening a class of chemistry.
This created a fresh storm of opposition. But the class prospered, it
was conducted with the greatest enthusiasm, and the very fact of so
young a man braving the opposition of the whole university in order to
defend his reputation gave a chivalrous aspect to the proceeding, which
toned down the current of opposition. By the end of the session he and
the professors were all on good terms. It was a marvellous proof of his
energy alike of mind and body that he was able to do all his academic
work, and at the same time write sermons and deliver them at Kilmany,
without breaking down, without even the appearance of exhaustion. On
the 14th March, after five months of this labour, he wrote to his
father, 'My hands are full of business. I am living just now the life I
seem to be formed for--a life of constant and unremitting activity.' Of
the whole forty-three years that formed the remainder of his life,
nearly the same thing might have been said.
The mathematical classes were not repeated in the following session, but
the chemical lectures were resumed, and carried on twice a week with
increased enthusiasm. The lectures were subsequently repeated at
Kilmany and at Cupar. Once, when at a loss for means to assist a friend
at Kirkcaldy, who had been associated with him in the volunteer service,
the chemical lectures were trotted out to the rescue. It was necessary,
when he went to a town, to carry materials for experimenting with him,
and Dr. Hanna tells how on one occasion one of the bottles that hung
from his saddlebag having been broken, the contents were discharged on
the flank of his horse, where they left a discoloured belt to tell the
tale. Of this accident the present writer remembers to have heard a
more detailed version, according to which the accident to the bottle,
which contained sulphuric acid, was not discovered till he was in the
class-room. The moment it was perceived, Chalmers, in great excitement,
exclaimed, 'Oh, my poor beast!' and rushed from the lecture-room to the
stable to do whatever was possible to relieve the sufferings of the
unfortunate animal.
It did not escape the notice of the Presbytery that the minister of
Kilmany was so much occupied with work outside his parish. But the
standard of ministerial activity was low, and Chalmers had not much
difficulty in defending himself. In a very short time his thoughts were
again turned to the university, but in another connection. The chair of
natural philosophy became vacant, and he entered the lists as a
candidate. But as the election was in the hands of the professors, he
could not have seriously dreamt of success. Nor was he much concerned
for his failure. 'My contempt,' he wrote, 'for the low, shuffling
artifices of college politics supports and elevates my mind against the
vexation of regret.'
A few weeks later, in January 1805, the University of Edinburgh lost one
of its most eminent professors--Dr. Robison, of whom mention has already
been made. Professor Playfair obtained his chair, leaving that of
mathematics, which he had held before, to be filled up. Chalmers was
again in the field, but no qualifications that he could appeal to were a
match for those of the successful candidate--Mr. (afterwards Sir John)
Leslie. In the course of the contest he came for the first time before
the public as an author. Among the candidates was the Rev. Dr.
Macknight, one of the ministers of Edinburgh, in opposition to whom
Professor Playfair had written to the patrons, remonstrating against
such a conjunction of offices. Mr. Chalmers's pamphlet (which was
anonymous) was entitled, _Observations on a passage in Mr. Playfair's
Letter to the Lord Provost of Edinburgh, relative to the Mathematical
Pretensions of the Scottish Clergy_. He had ceased to have any personal
interest in the case, and his whole object was to show that a Scottish
clergyman might be abundantly qualified for the duties of a chair in
addition to those of a parish. 'The author of this pamphlet,' he said,
'can assert from what to him is the highest of all authority, the
authority of his own experience, that after the satisfactory discharge
of his parish duties, a minister may enjoy five days in the week of
uninterrupted leisure for the prosecution of any science in which his
taste may dispose him to engage.' When the religious views of Mr.
Chalmers underwent the great change which will be described afterwards,
he was much distressed for this publication, and did his utmost to
withdraw it from circulation. In a discussion on pluralities in the
General Assembly some years afterwards, he argued vehemently against
both the principle and practice of pluralities; and, being twitted with
having at one time pronounced in their favour, he candidly admitted that
he had done so, but it was in the days of his spiritual blindness. The
chair involved was a chair of mathematics. 'What, sir,' he asked, 'are
the objects of mathematical science? Magnitude and the relations of
magnitude. But then, sir, I had forgot two magnitudes: I thought not of
the littleness of time; I recklessly thought not of the greatness of
eternity!'
However imperfectly he might have been discharging the duties of his
Kilmany charge, Mr. Chalmers was exceedingly kind and exemplary to the
members of his own family, one of whom, his sister Jane, for whom
through life he had the warmest affection, kept house for him, while
various others were more or less resident in his manse. One brother,
George, a favourite of the family, spent some months at Kilmany in the
autumn of 1806, in very touching circumstances. He was a sailor by
profession, and at the age of twenty-three commanded a merchant ship,
which being attacked by a French privateer, gallantly drove off the
enemy; but the skipper, lying down on deck, exhausted after the fight,
caught the seeds of consumption, which gradually prevailed against him.
His mother, three of his sisters, and two of his brothers were all
around him at Kilmany, but no material improvement took place.
Returning to Anstruther, George calmly awaited his coming end, with a
firm trust in the merit of his Saviour. Every evening one of Newton's
(of Olney) sermons was read at his bedside by one of the family in
rotation. It was one of the books which his brother had lately
denounced from the pulpit of Kilmany, as drawing men away from the
wholesome teaching of the gospels. Yet to his dying brother it brought
heavenly comfort. And evidently that brother enjoyed a secret something
which he had not. Could he be wrong? Must there not be reality in the
experience that took away all fear of death, and made the youth of
twenty-three so willing to die? 'The deep impression made by George's
death,' says Dr. Hanna, the chief biographer of Chalmers, 'was the first
step towards his own conversion.'
Less than two years after, his sister Barbara, who was five years older
than himself, sickened and died. The same fell disease which had cut
off George proved fatal to her. But her father could write of her that
she showed a cheerful submission to the will of God, and a humble
confidence in the satisfaction of her great Redeemer. Here was another
case of one very near and dear to him deriving all her support and
comfort in the hour of death from a source which he had been accustomed
to associate with superstition and fanaticism. Again the question could
not but force itself upon him, Must there not be something real in it,
after all?
As to the ordinary management of his household, being under the control
of his sister, it proceeded in the ordinary fashion without much
interference from him. He was easy, and easily pleased, but he was not
an absent-minded dreamer. At an early period his chemical studies had
led him to believe that the time would come when coal-vapour would be
purified and used for illuminating houses; and when he got a new manse,
he had pipes laid in it, in anticipation of this domestic use. When
coffee was introduced as a beverage, he believed that in burnt rye he
had found a rival to it, and used to have it produced for his friends.
Once when it was proposed to subject the two substances to a sort of
competitive trial, and a select company assembled to pass a verdict upon
them, a cup of genuine Mocha was first handed round and much approved
of; then a second cup was presented, and being tasted was pronounced to
be much inferior; whereupon Mr. Chalmers burst into laughter and
exclaimed, 'It's your own Mocha coffee, the second cup is just the same
article as the first!' At another time, when some friends were to be at
dinner, it turned out that the whole resources of the larder could
produce nothing but two kinds of dried fish. Nothing daunted, Mr.
Chalmers had both of them properly served; and the covers being removed,
called on his guests to make their choice. 'This, gentlemen, is salt
fish from St. Andrews; and that is salt fish from Dundee.' Of course he
had to be often on horseback; but as a horseman he did not excel. 'What
most provoked him was the frequency with which his horse threw him. At
first he was much interested in noting the intervals between each fall.
Taking the average length, and calculating how far a dozen falls would
carry him, he resolved to keep the horse till the twelfth fall was
accomplished. Extremely fond of such numerical adjustments (a singular
result of the mathematical structure of his mind), he was most faithful
in counting them. In this instance, however, the tenth fall was so bad
that his resolution gave way, and he told his servant to take the horse
to the next market and sell him forthwith. 'But remember,' he said,
'you must conceal none of its faults; you must tell that it has thrown
its master ten times.' 'But who,' asked the man, 'will think of buying
the horse if I tell him all that beforehand?' 'I cannot help that,'
said Mr. Chalmers; 'I will have no deception practised, and if nobody
will buy the horse, you must just bring him back again.' Nobody did buy
the horse; ultimately in return for a book he was transferred to his
neighbour, Mr. Thomson of Balmerino, whom the animal served quietly and
faithfully for many a year, without showing any vicious tendency; whence
it came to be surmised 'that the peculiarities of the case were not in
the animal but the restless and energetic horsemanship of the rider!'
His patriotism was intense, and not only did he fulminate against
Bonaparte in the pulpit, but he joined the volunteers, and held
commissions both as chaplain and lieutenant.
The early years at Kilmany passed with little change except a visit to
England in the beginning of 1807. These English visits, rare in those
days, enlarged his horizon, and showed him much that he did not find at
home. At Liverpool he preached for a Mr. Kilpatrick, and we may gather
the character of his ordinary pulpit lessons from his two subjects--in
the forenoon on the comforts of religion; in the afternoon on
drunkenness. His impression of Woodstock showed that intense admiration
of nature which remained to the last: 'I spent two hours in the garden.
Never spot more lovely--never scenes so fair and captivating. I lost
myself in an elysium of delight, and wept with perfect rapture.' At
Oxford there was kindled a reverence for English academical life and
learning which never left him. 'I was delighted with the academic air
and costume of the place; and amid the grossness of a mercantile age, it
is the delight of my spirit to recur to the quiet scenes of philosophy,
and contemplate what our ancestors have done for learning, and the
respect that they once paid to it.'
Three weeks were spent among the sights of London. He had a lively
interest in all he saw, especially in all that concerned science and the
mechanical arts. Among his old friends and neighbours were two sons of
Fifeshire manses, rising to that high distinction which he coveted in
his own department,--John Campbell, afterwards Lord Campbell, and Mr.
(afterwards Sir David) Wilkie. He was greatly interested in all he saw
of royalty: Windsor, with all its glories; the chapel-royal there, where
the King and Queen and Princess Elizabeth seemed so simple, frank, and
devout; and he noted especially a view he had of these royal personages
at St. James's, when her majesty returned his salutation with a
'condescending notice.' Not in the vulgar sense, but as useful and
ornamental elements in the social fabric, he had a high regard for
royalty and the nobility. 'I am charmed with the cordial and
affectionate loyalty of the people. I saw a glow of reverence and
satisfaction on every countenance, and my heart warmed within me.'
Sheridan was the great orator of the day, and oftener than once he heard
him speak. He used to give two instances of Sheridan's readiness of
repartee when standing the fire of the hustings at Westminster. One
elector complained that he was not satisfied with his treatment of the
Carnatic. 'My dear sir,' he said, with a significant bow, 'the affairs
of the Carnatic are in much abler hands.' Another elector, with a very
ugly face, raised on the shoulder of the mob, said, 'If you do not alter
your ways, I will withdraw my countenance from you.' 'I am delighted to
hear it,' said Sheridan, 'for it is the ugliest countenance I ever
beheld.'
Cambridge attracted him even more than Oxford: 'It smells of learning
all over, and I breathe a fragrancy most congenial to me.' As if he had
foreseen Girton and Newnham, he said, 'The very women have an air of
academic mildness and simplicity.' He preferred it to Oxford,
apparently because its objects of interest were not so concentrated, but
really, in all probability, because it was the great sanctuary of
mathematical study. 'In Cambridge, everything wears a simplicity and
chasteness allied to the character of philosophy, and the venerable name
of Newton gives it an interest that can never die.' The glories of York
Minster entranced him. Wherever he went he made careful observation
alike of all that was beautiful and all that was instructive. He
returned to Kilmany in July (1807), after an absence of nearly three
months.
Immediately after his return, Mr. Chalmers set himself to prepare for
the press a work of considerable size and research, entitled an _Inquiry
into the Extent and Stability of National Resources_. Political economy
had always attracted him. At the time of this publication, much fear
was expressed that the continued war with Bonaparte, implying the
shutting against Britain of all the ports of the countries to which his
influence extended, and the confiscation of all cargoes of British
goods, would exhaust the resources of the country and ruin its foreign
traders. Mr. Chalmers held strongly an opposite opinion. Whether he
succeeded in proving his contention may be a question; certainly his
position was paradoxical. But his sagacity, as the result has proved,
came out in more than one indirect form. With reference to the
income-tax, he contended strongly that it ought not to be charged on the
whole of a man's income, but only on the part that remained after
providing for the necessaries of life. It was only a few years ago that
effect was given to this view in the case of small incomes. Another
matter for which he contended strongly was our obligation to provide a
better living for our soldiers. He denounced the compulsory system of
enlistment--it ought to be a voluntary service. And it ought to be a
service of limited duration; the nation had no right to make an
exception against soldiers and sailors when all other servants were
engaged for a limited number of months or years. 'Let it no longer be a
slavery for life, and let the burning ignominy of corporal punishment be
done away.' It was many years before these suggestions were acted on;
Chalmers lived to see his proposal of limited enlistment carried out,
when a friend of his own (Lord Panmure, afterwards Earl of Dalhousie)
was Secretary at War.
In this and in later writings on political economy it has been well
remarked that 'he bent the whole energies of his thought, not so much on
its abstruser theories, as on those practical and vital problems which
tend to meet the difficulties and ameliorate the condition of the
working classes.' 'He was the first political economist,' says Mr.
Dodds, 'who seized with a forethought and philanthropy equally before
his time upon _the condition-of-the-people question_, as the paramount,
the coming question of the age.' His opinion as to the dynamic by which
the desired change was to come underwent a great change when his
religious views changed; at the present stage he hoped that the forces
of reason would gradually effect the desired improvement; afterwards he
saw that these forces would be of little avail without the power of the
Gospel.
But a more important publication had now come into his horizon. One of
his friends, Dr. (afterwards Sir David) Brewster, was at this time
engaged in editing a voluminous work, the _Edinburgh Encyclopaedia_.
Chalmers was engaged to contribute several articles, chiefly on
mathematical subjects. After the death of his sister Barbara (in 1808)
he wrote to the editor requesting that the article on 'Christianity'
should be assigned to him. Probably he felt, after what he had seen at
the two deathbeds in his family, that he needed to make this great
subject a matter of more careful study. His own belief in the divine
origin of Christianity had been firmly established long before--the
historical evidence, as presented by Paley, and the analogical
confirmation of it by Butler appearing to him irresistible. As it
turned out, his article in the _Encyclopaedia_ bore mainly on the
evidences; and the historical evidence received by far the most
prominent place. Indeed, he was disposed to lay little stress on what
was known as the internal evidence. This arose out of the fear he
entertained lest men would substitute their own impressions of
Christianity for the clear, authoritative declarations of God. Since
God had uttered His voice, the sole and simple duty of men was to
ascertain what He had spoken, and give it their profound and absolute
acceptance. If they began to discuss the quality of His message, even
though its supreme excellence should be the point insisted on, they
would be bringing their own judgment into the case, and that might prove
a very dangerous element. It needs hardly to be pointed out that in
this position Chalmers placed himself in antagonism to the current view
of the friends of Christianity. In point of fact, the internal evidence
is that which carries conviction to the great mass of believers. At the
present day, the character of Jesus Christ stands far the highest and
most impressive of all the evidences. Chalmers was influenced, by a
mental tendency which clung to him more or less all his life, to dwell
on one side of a truth, which, to be fully set forth, needed to be
viewed in a variety of lights. But after a time he came to see that the
internal evidence deserved a higher place than he had assigned to it.
When his article was expanded into his treatise on the _Evidences of
Christianity_, the internal branch was duly acknowledged.
But before the article was finished, Chalmers, who was then in his
thirtieth year, passed through the ordeal of a very severe illness,
which confined him to his room for four months, prevented him from
entering his pulpit for six months, and affected him more or less for a
whole year. He believed that he was about to die. The whole subject of
religion assumed a new aspect of importance in his eyes. He came to see
that he had been living without God, and the discovery appalled him.
The will of God now became an imperative rule to him, and every energy
was bent towards bringing his own heart and life into conformity to it.
In such a man as Pascal the sublime transition had been made from the
highest walks of mathematical science to the still higher walk of faith.
Might not he be able to realise what Pascal had achieved? For a whole
year Chalmers laboured to effect this change. His friends could not
fail to mark the difference. Brief but solemn allusions such as they
had never heard before would drop from his lips. But in many respects
he was still the same. 'There were the same cordial greetings, the same
kindly questionings about themselves and all their friends, and the same
hearty laugh at the racy anecdote or stroke of quiet humour; for, great
as was the change effected, neither at the first nor ever afterwards did
it damp or narrow that genial and most social spirit which carried him
into varied intercourse with all classes of his fellow-men, and made the
joy of that intercourse to be a very cordial to his heart.' But, deeply
solemnised though he was, he had not attained the peace that passeth
understanding, nor had he learned the precious act of free and loving
fellowship with his Father in heaven.
During all this time he was ever keeping a most vigilant eye on his
habits and life, and in a diary now begun we find him pulling himself up
for every little fault, every loss of temper, every bitter word, every
conceited feeling. And he is constantly praying for forgiveness and for
strength. He is making progress in theological knowledge, finding, for
example, a far higher place in his regard for the atonement of Jesus
Christ. A very strong mark of his earnestness is seen in his
determination finally to give up his mathematical reading, and devote
himself to theology.
His views came to a point after the reading of a book then in
vogue--Wilberforce's _Practical View_. Fifteen years after, he
described the effect which that book had upon him in a letter to a
younger brother. 'When I meet with an inquirer, who, under the impulse
of a new feeling, has set himself in good earnest to the business of his
eternity, I have been very much in the habit of recommending
Wilberforce. This perhaps is owing to the circumstance that I myself
experienced a very great transition of sentiment in consequence of
reading his work. The deep views he gives of the depravity of our
nature, of our need of an atonement, of the great doctrine of acceptance
through that atonement, of the sanctifying influences of the
Spirit--these all give a new aspect to a man's religion.... But there
are other books which might be as effectually instrumental in working
the desired change; and in defect of them all there is the Bible, whose
doctrines I well remember I then saw in an altogether new light, and
could feel a power and a preciousness in passages which I formerly read
with heedlessness, and even with disgust.'
We cannot dwell at more length on this most interesting struggle; enough
to say that he emerged from it into the joy and peace of believing; he
laid hold of Jesus Christ as his only Saviour; entered into conscious
reconciliation with God; looked habitually to the Holy Spirit for all
sanctifying grace; and counted it his highest honour and delight to be a
fellow-worker with God, especially in all that concerned the welfare of
his fellow-men. Yet it was always observed of him that while cordially
agreeing with evangelical divines in the great essentials of the faith,
he would accept of no position which did not commend itself to his own
mind as according to Scripture. For a class of men who insisted on very
minute orthodoxies, and even questioned his own soundness because he
might not agree with them, he used to speak with little patience and
less respect.
The change became very apparent in his ministerial work. He threw new
ardour into the visitation of his flock and the instruction of the
young. His preaching passed into those evangelical lines which formerly
he had treated with contempt. Family worship, morning and evening, was
regularly conducted in the manse, although sometimes it was a great
trial to introduce that much contemned practice when a guest was present
who had little sympathy with the evangelical life. A Bible Society was
established in the parish, and all the people were exhorted to join it.
Strangers flocked to his church, not merely as of old to enjoy his
eloquent and impassioned delivery, but for guidance and aid in the
service of God. Converts to living Christianity gladdened his heart and
aided him in his work. 'Sandy Paterson,' his first convert, became a
great and earnest worker among his neighbours, and afterwards, as a city
missionary, in the Canongate of Edinburgh, successfully laboured in the
slums. With a young gentleman in Dundee, Mr. James Anderson, Chalmers
formed a remarkable friendship on the basis of their mutual interest in
religion, and in his great humility corresponded with him more like a
fellow-student or brother than a spiritual father. And Chalmers himself
became an earnest and laborious student of the Bible; and, in order to
keep up the glow of his spiritual life, instituted for himself a monthly
exercise, in which he reviewed before God the work of the month, and
with much confession and thanksgiving, implored the blessing of God on
all his work and on all his people.
No man was more sensible than himself of the great difference between
his earlier and later ministry. He told his people that earnest though
he had been at first in pressing honour, truth, and integrity upon them,
he never once heard of any resulting reformation; all his vehemence had
not the weight of a feather on their moral habits. It was only after he
became acquainted with the true way of approach to God, and the real
fountain of divine strength in Christ, that those minor reformations
showed themselves as the result of that deeper and more vital process by
which the heart was changed. It was his delight to hear masters
testifying to the scrupulous honesty and conscientious fidelity of their
servants, after they had come under the power of the Gospel. He prayed
that such servants, while thus adorning the doctrine of God their
Saviour, humble though they were, might reclaim the great ones of the
land to the acknowledgment of the faith.
Though not much addicted to church courts, Chalmers, during his Kilmany
ministry, made a few memorable appearances in them. His maiden speech
in the General Assembly was delivered in 1809. The subject was not an
inspiring one; it related to a recent act of the legislature on the
augmentation of stipends. But his speech was a most logical and
brilliant performance. The house was taken by storm. 'Who is he?' was
the question on every lip; 'he must be a most extraordinary person.'
Later, in 1814, he spoke on a kindred subject--the repairs and
alterations of manses. A better chance for his powers occurred in the
Assembly of that year in connection with a plurality case, where the
'wonderful display of his talents' contributed much to the passing of an
enactment that no professorship in a university should be held in
connection with a _country_ charge.
During the latter part of his Kilmany ministry he became a contributor
to the _Edinburgh Christian Instructor_, under the distinguished
editorship of Dr. Andrew Thomson. One of his papers dealt with the
new-born science of geology, and greatly soothed the anxieties of many
good men, by pointing out that the first chapter of Genesis does not fix
the antiquity of the globe, but only that of the human race. To the
_Eclectic Review_ he contributed an able paper on Moravian missions, in
opposition to an ignorant and scandalous misstatement on that subject
that had appeared in the _Edinburgh Review_. An eloquent pamphlet,
likewise in refutation of injurious statements, vindicated Bible
Societies from the charge of hurting the poor. It was at this time, and
in connection with this defence of Bible Societies, that he first
published those views of pauperism which he maintained so constantly all
his life. At Kilmany there was no assessment for the poor, and very
little pauperism. It seemed to him far better to foster a spirit of
independence, thrift, and industry on the part of the poor, and a spirit
of brotherly consideration on the part of the rich, than to confer a
legal claim on the one, and impose a legal obligation on the other.
'What, after all,' asks the author of the pamphlet on Bible Societies,
'is the best method of providing for the secular necessities of the
poor? Is it by labouring to meet the necessity after it has occurred, or
by labouring to establish a principle and a habit which would go far to
prevent its existence? ... If you wish to extinguish poverty, combat
with it in its first elements.... The education and religious principle
of Scotland have not annihilated pauperism, but they have restrained it
to a degree that is almost incredible to our neighbours of the south.
The writer of this paper knows of a parish in Fife, the average
maintenance of whose poor is defrayed by L24 sterling a year, and of a
parish of the same population in Somersetshire where the annual
assessment amounts to L1300 sterling.'
But the most interesting feature in the pastoral development of Chalmers
during the latter part of his Kilmany ministry was the new direction
given to his power as a pulpit orator. We have seen that, from the
beginning, his more careful discourses were marked by great force of
argument and beauty of expression, and that there was such a fervour in
his manner of delivery as approached to wild uncouthness. Certain it is
that from first to last his pronunciation was very broad and his accent
intensely provincial. But when he struck into a vein of thought that
was full of interest to his own mind and soul, he was wonderfully
arrestive and impressive. In his earlier years he evidently took but
little trouble with his ordinary discourses; writing shorthand, he could
easily throw off a sermon in two or three hours. Yet even then he was
at times singularly felicitous; and, for sheer eloquence, no sermon he
ever preached was more remarkable than one delivered on occasion of the
national fast, on 8th February 1809, when, after a five-mile plodding on
foot through a heavy fall of snow, he convened the handful of people who
had reached the church in a room in the damp, uninhabited manse. After
his change of views, his preparation for the pulpit received much more
attention, and a distinction of longhand and shorthand sermons indicated
that on some he bestowed peculiar pains. The late Andrew Fuller,
attracted by his fame, having paid him a visit, tried to persuade him to
give up reading his sermons, believing that a more free delivery would
add infinitely to the impression. Chalmers made various attempts to
carry out the extemporaneous method, but, instead of his acquiring more
freedom, the effect was the reverse. At last he gave up all attempts at
the extemporaneous, both in his sermons and speeches, except in the way
of parenthetical remarks designed to elucidate some point that had not
been made sufficiently clear.
But we must not close the record of his Kilmany life without adverting
to an important domestic event which took place about two years before
he left the place. Till near that time he had, like Dr. Livingstone in
Africa at a later period, determined to lead the life of a bachelor. A
recent disappointment in connection with an application for augmentation
of stipend, confirmed him in that resolve. But neither Chalmers nor
Livingstone had taken into reckoning a mysterious influence which can
make sport of the firmest resolutions, and prostrate strong men at the
feet of Hymen. Chalmers had fallen in love with Miss Grace Pratt,
daughter of Captain Pratt of the First Royal Veteran Battalion, who had
been living for some time with her uncle, Mr. Simson, at Starbank, in
the parish of Kilmany. The marriage took place on 4th August 1812, and
the union lasted for thirty-five years of unbroken domestic happiness.
His sister Jane, his housekeeper, had been married shortly before to Mr.
Morton, a gentleman in Gloucestershire, and in communicating to her what
was probably a very unexpected piece of intelligence, he veiled the news
under an allegorical form which it may have taken her a little trouble
to elucidate. Referring to a recent but somewhat unsuccessful process
of his before the Court of Tiends for augmentation of stipend, he said
he had been involved in another process before another court. He had
been defeated in the one, but he was glad to say he had been triumphant
in the other. In the latter case he had had to do the whole business
himself. He had had to frame the summons and to conduct the pleadings.
There had been replies and duplies, and many a personal appearance at
court before the process was settled. At last a decision had been given
in his favour. But the law required the decision to be followed by a
proclamation--not a single proclamation at the cross, but two
proclamations, that had to be made within a quarter of a mile of his own
house. The letter concluded: 'I ken, Jane, you always thought me an
ill-pratted (mischievous) chiel; but, I can issure you, of all the
_pratts_ I ever played, none was ever carried on, or even ended more
_grace_-fully.' And Mrs. Morton congratulated him on his victory.
His fame as a pulpit orator had now travelled from Maidenkirk to John o'
Groats, and it could not be expected that he should be left in a
secluded country parish. In Glasgow, the Tron parish church had become
vacant, and Chalmers was suggested as successor to Dr. Macgill. It was
easy for the anti-evangelical party to ridicule the idea of bringing a
madman to such a place; but a deputation from the Town Council, who were
patrons of the church, went to hear him preach. On the Sunday in
question he preached, at Bendochy, a funeral sermon on Mr. Honey, a
young minister whose fatal illness had been brought on by his exertions
in saving from shipwreck seven exhausted sailors, whom, one by one, he
bore from their stranded vessel to the shore. The impression of that
sermon was overpowering. In spite of the opposition of the Duke of
Montrose, Sir Islay Campbell, the Lord Provost, and the College,
Chalmers received from the Town Council a presentation to the Tron, and,
after considerable hesitation, accepted it. It was a great wrench to
tear himself from Kilmany, which he loved and admired so greatly, and
from the people that were dear to him as his own children. All his
life, Fife, and especially Kilmany, continued thus dear. On his way to
Glasgow he had occasion to climb the Calton Hill in Edinburgh, and the
sight of Norman Law, which was visible from the windows of the manse of
Kilmany, quite overcame him. 'Oh! with what vivid remembrance can I
wander in thought over all its farms and all its families, and dwell on
the kind and simple affection of its people, till the contemplation
becomes too bitter for my endurance.'
It was no less a trial to leave the work which was now advancing so
hopefully in the parish. But he could not be insensible to the claims
of such a city as Glasgow, and the boundless field for usefulness it
afforded. And so, in great humility, and in great fear lest he should
be giving an undue preference to intellect and culture over poverty and
obscurity, he accepted the call. He preached a most impressive farewell
sermon on 9th July 1815, which concluded with these words: 'Be assured,
my brethren, that after the dear and the much-loved scenery of this
peaceful vale has disappeared from my eye, the people who live in it
shall retain a warm and an ever-enduring place in my memory; and this
mortal body must be stretched on the bed of death ere the heart that now
animates it can resign its exercise of longing after you, and praying
for you that you may so receive Christ Jesus, and so walk in Him, and so
hold fast the things you have gotten, and so prove that the labour I
have had among you has not been in vain, that when the sound of the last
trumpet awakens us, these eyes which are now bathed in tears may open
upon a scene of eternal blessedness, and we, my brethren, whom the
providence of God has withdrawn for a little time from each other, may
on that day be found side by side at the right hand of the everlasting
throne.'
When we compare Chalmers as he came to Kilmany and as he left it, we
find much that remains the same, and much that has been changed or
modified.
Remaining the same, we find his singularly energetic, forceful nature;
his high integrity and kindliness of heart, as it constantly streamed
out towards his family, his friends, and his flock; his eager desire for
the welfare of his people, for their advancement and elevation in all
that he counted good, pure, and noble; his indomitable energy of purpose
and fearless contending for right and truth; his passionate intensity of
conviction, rolling itself out in whirlwinds and tempests of eloquence,
that swept all before it. The great change which he has undergone has
not destroyed these fundamental elements of character.
Nevertheless, all things have become new. He has learned that true
life, in its every department, must be lived in fellowship with God. He
has learned the way to God, to God reconciled, a loving Father, a
considerate Master, a gracious Friend and Guide. He has seen the
reality of Christ's atonement, and of the work of the Holy Spirit, and
found a new value in prayer, and a new use of the sacred Scriptures. He
has got new light on the true welfare of the people, and especially on
the need for every one of personal contact with Christ; new light, also,
on the true dignity of every individual man and woman in view of the
capacities of their souls and the immortality that is before them. He
has found a nobler theme and a higher inspiration for that eloquence
which has moulded his labours in the pulpit. He is not less desirous to
see the people prosperous and happy, but he has been convinced that
their true welfare is dependent on heavenly grace, and, in the case of
the poor, that there is nothing like Christian influence whether for
preventing or alleviating the evils of poverty, or, where there are
poor, raising them above the depressing conditions of their lot. And
this is just the germ of that more comprehensive view of the conditions
of social welfare to which he will be drawn when he finds himself side
by side with the teeming thousands of Glasgow. He looks forward more
ardently than ever to the full development of the parochial system. Nor
has his enthusiasm for science abated. He has seen that, much though he
loves it, it is not his part to devote to it the time needed for his
more immediate duties. But now that he sees it more clearly than ever a
department of that great kingdom of God in which all interests are
combined in a wonderful unity, his respect for it is greater rather than
less. And, as a handmaid to the Gospel, he will soon find a noble use
for it in those astronomical discourses which are soon to arrest the
attention of the intellectual world.
Thus equipped, and with these aims, Chalmers proceeds to Glasgow. He is
inducted into his new charge, 23rd July 1815. His incumbency there is
to be shorter even than at Kilmany; but the eight years that are now
before him are to witness the commencement of a work and the advocacy of
a cause which will not only bring out the greatness of his character,
but tell on the welfare of the whole Church and country for generations
to come.