CHAPTER VI

NEW COLLEGE, EDINBURGH

1843-1847

Gifted and mighty men though many of the leaders of the Disruption were,

Chalmers towered high above them all. With the multitude his illustrious

name gave a dazzling _eclat_ to the movement; with the thoughtful the

fact that a man of his sagacity, patriotism, and caution, and strong

proclivity to an established church, should have thrown himself heart

and soul into the non-intrusion cause, created the conviction that it

must be supported by very weighty considerations. What but the strongest

sense of fatal injury to the church could have induced him, after

electrifying London with pleadings for a national establishment of

religion, to forsake his own, and become practically a voluntary? No

man felt his responsibility for the Disruption more deeply than

Chalmers; and no man laboured more assiduously in behalf of the Free.

Church, in the creation of which he had had such a share. To the

General Assembly of 1843 he gave in the Reports of the Sustentation and

Building Committees, both of which were very encouraging. The months of

August and September were spent in a tour to the east and north of

Scotland, on behalf of the Sustentation Fund. In October he attended an

extra meeting of the General Assembly at Glasgow, opening it with a

sermon from Nehemiah xi. 16. In November he had to enter on his duties

as Principal and Professor of Divinity in the Free Church Theological

Institution, now known as the 'New College.'

It was natural for him to be very much cheered by the numberless letters

and visits of congratulation that came to the Free Church from every

quarter. When even those who had as voluntaries been his most

inveterate opponents in his church endowment effort, came with their

warm and most brotherly salutations, a new hope of union sprang up that

rekindled hope for the highest welfare of Scotland.

Speaking to the General Assembly held at Glasgow in the autumn of 1843,

he said:--

'I confess to you that I was much interested by the arrival, by one post

after another, of those addresses and resolutions from various churches,

of whose very existence I was not aware till I received their letters.

And I think that every man, whose heart is in the right place, will be

delighted with such movements. They are movements quite in my own

favourite direction, because one and all of them are movements of

convergency; or, in other words, movements which point in the first

instance to union, and, as soon as possible and prudent, I trust their

landing-place will be incorporation. There is among them one very

pleasant address, signed by--I have not had time to count the

names,--but I believe some of the youngsters of my family tried a more

wholesale method of arriving at a probable estimate of the amount of

support thus given to the Free Church; instead of numbering, they

measured it, and found it about seventeen yards long.... I have felt

exceedingly delighted with these communications. I must say that I

consider it as infinitely more characteristic of the religion which we

profess--the religion of peace and charity--that instead of each

denomination sitting aloft and apart upon its own hill, and frowning

upon each other from their respective orbits, they should hold kindly

and mutual converse, and see each other eye to eye, while they will

discern, to their mutual astonishment, if not how thoroughly, at least

how substantially, they are at one. I just conclude with observing that

now is the time to rally about the common standard all that is pure and

vital in Protestantism; for now it is that we shall have to make head

against a new form and revival of Antichrist, whether in the form of

Popery--naked Popery, or Popery in disguise, even that Antichrist which

threatens to shake a most withering mildew over the whole of

Christendom.'

The same views were expressed with equal emphasis at a general meeting,

held about the same time, in commemora tion of the two hundredth

anniversary of the Westminster Assembly. And when the Evangelical

Alliance was projected, he wrote a pamphlet in its favour, expressing a

strong desire that it should be called the Protestant Alliance, and that

it should have for its double object the protection and promotion of the

cause of Protestantism; and, in his own familiar and favourite line, the

work of a great Home Mission.

Among the eminent strangers who visited Scotland about this time none

excited a livelier interest in Dr. Chalmers's mind than Dr. Merle

D'Aubigne, who came in 1845, when in the full flush of his fame as the

popular historian of the Reformation.

At the Disruption there was a vast amount of work to be done, for it

would have required more than seven hundred churches to accommodate all

the congregations that adhered to the Free Church. There were, besides,

many cases of peculiar difficulty, caused chiefly by the refusal of

proprietors to grant sites for churches and manses on their properties,

a refusal which on vast estates like those of the Duke of Sutherland or

the Duke of Buccleuch would have amounted to an absolute extinction of

the church. Dr. Chalmers, however, under the influence of his strong

desire for a sabbatic decennium, kept clear of the ordinary work of the

church, excepting the Sustentation Fund and his college lectures. As

for the college itself, it was mainly in the hands of Dr. Welsh, until

his lamented death in 1845, when Dr. Chalmers felt constrained to become

convener of the College Committee. Among other services, Dr. Welsh took

in hand to provide for a college building, which it was proposed to

erect from the contributions of twenty subscribers of L1000 each. This

was a serious undertaking at a time when the wealthier friends of the

church had been straining all their energies for the Building,

Sustentation, and Mission Funds. But the whole sum was speedily

contributed in the way proposed, and though in the end the price of the

site and the cost of the building amounted to more than double the sum

named at the beginning, the whole was ultimately provided. Such

liberality for college purposes was due in a great degree to the

profound regard in which Dr. Chalmers was held, and in a somewhat less

degree to his colleague Dr. Welsh.

It must be owned that Dr. Chalmers was not satisfied with the success of

the Sustentation Fund. It had been adopted not only unanimously but

enthusiastically by the whole church, and considering all that had to be

done for other purposes, it was marvellous that in the first year it

amounted to L68,700, enough to furnish fully L100 to six hundred

ministers. That, however, was but two-thirds of the amount which

Chalmers had named as the minimum payment to each minister from this

fund. And, besides, there were many additional ministers to be provided

for, needed by the new adhering congregations; and moreover,--and this

was never absent from his thoughts--there was to be considered the vast

home-mission work needed in order to realise his lifelong desire to

overtake the whole spiritual destitution of the country. It was the

inadequacy of the Sustentation Fund to realise this further object that

was the chief cause of his disappointment. Moreover, he found in the

machinery of his scheme a serious leak, which bade fair to ruin it.

Every congregation was to receive an equal dividend for its minister

from this fund, whatever might be the amount of its own contributions.

In order that this provision might work satisfactorily, it was necessary

that congregations should make an equal effort for the fund. But it was

soon found that many congregations were steeped in selfishness, and,

while drawing their equal dividend, their contributions were but a

fraction of what they should have been. Chalmers had calculated on a

brotherly spirit and a brotherly conscience, which he now found were

often wanting. He became alarmed for the future, and proposed a

modification of the original arrangement, to the effect that no

congregation should receive from the fund more than its own contribution

and a half more. But it was too late. The fund had been constituted on

the footing of an equal dividend, and there was a strong opposition to

the change. Chalmers remonstrated by word of mouth and by pamphlets on

the 'Economics of the Free Church.' All that the Assembly would allow

was that the new plan should be tried with new congregations. But as

the new congregations were generally comparatively poor, the result was

something like starvation to their ministers; and, after a short trial,

the plan was given up. But no one could deny the serious nature of the

evil that Chalmers had pointed out, and for many a long year there were

perplexed discussions as to the remedy. Even now, though the leak has

been abundantly dealt with, it has not been quite overcome. In his

remonstrances, Chalmers showed more vehemence than was perhaps

reasonable, considering that it was the defect of his own original

scheme that caused the difficulty. But his vehemence was due to the

conviction that came home so strongly to him, that the Sustentation Fund

could not become the instrument of carrying out his dearly-cherished

project,--of recovering the whole waste-places of Scotland, and making

them parts of the vineyard of the Lord. The thought saddened him, and

it led him to speak more disparagingly of what the Free Church had

accomplished, and what the Sustentation Fund had accomplished, than was

altogether deserved.

After experiencing three disappointments--from the Whigs, and the

Tories, and the Free Church, it might have been supposed that, all eager

as he was for rest and quiet, he would now let the matter alone. But

no. There remained one other step. By an _experimentum crucis_, by a

demonstration of what, under the divine blessing, could be done by his

scheme in as unfavourable a district as could be found, he might yet

vindicate it in the eyes of all men; he might leave behind him a

monument which would be a perpetual rebuke of the languor and

listlessness of the church; a perpetual encouragement to similar

undertakings, and a perpetual testimony to the maxim of John Eliot, the

apostle of the North American Indians, which he used often to quote,

that 'prayer and pains can do everything.'

This was the origin of the West Port experiment. Writing on 26th July

1844, just fourteen months after the Disruption, to his friend Mr.

Lennox of New York, the munificent founder of the Lennox Library and the

Lennox Hospital, New York, between whom and Dr. Chalmers there had

sprung up a very cordial friendship, he said: 'I have determined to

assume a poor district of two thousand people, and superintend it

myself, though it be a work greatly too much for my declining strength

and means. Yet such do I hold to be the efficiency of the method with

the divine blessing, that perhaps, as the concluding act of my public

life, I shall make the effort to exemplify what as yet I have only

expounded.'

To prepare the way and interest the public in his scheme, he delivered

four lectures, in which the methods and advantages of territorial

schools and churches were set forth with his usual force. Free Church

feeling was running very hieh at the time, and Dr. Chalmers was at great

pains to show that his undertaking was dictated solely by a regard to

the good of the people. 'Who cares,' he asked, 'about the Free Church,

compared with the Christian good of Scotland? Who cares about any

church but as an instrument of Christian good? For be assured that the

moral and religious well-being of the population is of infinitely higher

importance than the advancement of any sect.'

The district selected was of the worst description--a fourth part of the

whole population being paupers, and another fourth street beggars,

thieves, and prostitutes. The population amounted to upwards of 400

families, of whom 300 had no connection with any church. Of 411

children of school age, 290 were growing up without any education. The

plan of Dr. Chalmers was to divide the whole territory into twenty

districts, containing each about twenty families. To each district a

visitor was appointed, whose duty was to visit each family once a week,

under directions printed by Dr. Chalmers to show the specific object of

the visitation. A school was provided, and the visitors were

instructed, in the first instance, to show an active interest in the

young, and exhort the parents to send their children to the school. A

small fee was exacted, on the principle that what was paid for would be

more valued, and that a more regular attendance would be secured.[5] The

visitors were instructed to meet with Dr. Chalmers every Saturday

evening, the first meeting taking place on 27th July 1844. On the 6th

November, Dr. Chalmers held his first meeting with the people, telling

them all he would do for them, and all that they were expected to do for

themselves. On 11th November, when the school was opened, there were 64

scholars; in the course of the year there were 250. On the 22nd

December, public worship was commenced by Dr. Chalmers in a tan-loft.

The attendance was not encouraging after all the visiting that had been

going on--only about a dozen adults, and these mostly old women. In

April 1845, the services of the Rev. W. Tasker were secured as

missionary-minister, and before the end of the year the nucleus of a

fair congregation had been formed. A library, a savings-bank, a

washing-house, and a female industrial school were added to the

parochial equipments. Dr. Chalmers preached and worshipped often in the

loft, met with the visitors, and addressed the people as new features

were added to the scheme. 'When he was a hearer merely,' says Mr.

Dodds, 'one would see him near the pulpit, in a crowd of deaf old women,

who were meanly clothed, but were following the services with unflagging

attention and interest. His eye was upon every one of them, to

anticipate their wishes and difficulties. He would help one old woman

to find out the text; he would take hold of the psalm-book of another,

hand to hand, and join her in the song of praise. Any one looking at him

could see that he was in a state of supreme enjoyment.' And most

earnestly did he pray for a blessing on the work, and that it might be

the forerunner of many such undertakings.

[5] He used to speak with great delight of a poor woman, who told him

that by going out at seven in the morning she earned enough, by

raking among the ashes, to pay for the schooling of her eldest

daughter, but wished the second also to attend. His first impulse

was to offer to pay for her, but that, he feared, would hurt her

independence; so he said: 'What would you say to rise at six in

the morning and earn enough to pay for her too?' On the following

Saturday she came to tell him she had done it. 'I could have

stood before her,' he said, 'with cap in hand, for in truth she

was above myself.'

'We would give Thee no rest, O God, until Thou hast opened the window of

heaven and caused righteousness to flow down that street like a mighty

river.' 'Let such a memorial of Christian philanthropy be set up in

that place as to be a praise and an example both in the city of our

habitation and in other cities of the land.' 'Reveal to me, O God, the

right tactics, the right way and method of proceeding in the management

of the affairs of the West Port. Oh that I were enabled to pull down

the strongholds of sin and of Satan which are there!' 'O my God, give

me the power of ordering matters aright in the West Port.... And more

especially, O God, let me understand Thy will in regard to the right

place and performances of a female agency.' 'Draw close the affections

and affinity between Mr. Tasker and the families of the West Port....

Do Thou guide and encourage him, O Lord.... Oh may he not only be

himself saved, but may he be the instrument of salvation to many; and

may both he and I be carried in safety, and at length with triumph, to

that prosperous termination for which we are jointly labouring!'

We have no space to dwell further on the history of the West Port. The

sweep of the experiment was complete. On 19th February 1847 a new church

was opened; and on the 25th April, one month before his death, Dr.

Chalmers administered the Lord's Supper to the congregation. On that

occasion he said to Mr. Tasker, 'I have got now the desire of my heart;

God has indeed answered my prayer, and I could now lay down my head in

peace and die.' And he wrote to Mr. Lennox, 'I wish to communicate what

to me is the most joyful event of my life. I have been intent for

thirty years on the completion of a territorial experiment, and I have

now to bless God for the consummation of it.'

It may be well to add that under Mr. Tasker and his successors the cause

has prospered greatly. After being enlarged twice, the original church

still proved too small, and a new and spacious building was erected a

little way off. The congregation now numbers upwards of 1300

communicants. Of course it is not wholly territorial; people that have

become attached to a church cannot be driven out of it when they leave

the neighbourhood; but the old building is still retained as a mission

church, and the territorial work continues. In the Free Church in

Edinburgh the experiment was repeated many times, new territorial

churches in poor and needy districts having been erected at Holyrood,

Pleasance, Back of Canongate (Moray), Cowgate, Cowgate Head, and

Fountainbridge. In Glasgow there have been many more, and several in

the other large towns of Scotland. The Established Church has striven

with great success to have its extension churches endowed, thereby

carrying into effect the original idea of Chalmers. And yet, in spite

of all this, the aim of Chalmers is as far from being realised as ever.

With the increasing population, the number of persons, in our large

towns especially, who have no connection with any church is larger than

in Chalmers's time. And, alas! the wave of scepticism and of

secularism that is passing over us intensifies the evil and magnifies

the difficulty.

In connection with his public labours, it only remains for us to advert

to his work as professor of theology during the last few years of his

life. It had long been his desire to reduce his lectures to a form that

would convey the fruits of his maturest reflections, both on the

credentials and contents of the Christian revelation. When he began his

_Horae Biblicae Quotidianae_ and _Sabbaticae_, he began at the same time

to condense and reconstruct his lectures; the two works advanced _pari

passu_; the devout study of the Scriptures went hand in hand with the

endeavour, in the spirit of the Baconian philosophy, to present the

substance of their contents. Hence arose his _Institutes of

Theology_--a work which has received far too little attention since

German theology began to supersede our own, but which may one day, in

some future age, be valued as it should.

But the great merit of Chalmers as a professor lay in the enthusiasm

with which he inspired his students. It would have been hard indeed for

any conscientious youth to be under him and not feel his soul quickened,

at least occasionally, to a sublime ardour, and fired with a new

ambition. So wonderful was his influence, that at the Disruption

nine-tenths of those who passed through his classes stood by his side.

The present writer, though he spent but one session under him before the

Disruption, can bear testimony, not only to the intellectual and

spiritual impulse he gave, but to the subtle sympathy which drew his

students to share his church views, though he never alluded to them in

the class, and to the enthusiasm with which they listened to him in the

General Assembly. He well knew that in the Free Church the mass of the

ministers would be but poorly paid, and that there was all the greater

reason why they should be well equipped by superior scholarship, and

especially by superior piety, for their office. And in this he was

highly successful. After three sessions in the Free Church College, he

could testify that the students of his last session stood the highest of

any he had known, not only in general proficiency and scholarship, but

also in their sense of divine things, and devotedness in heart and

spirit to the great objects of the Christian ministry. In his later

years, it was his practice to invite his students to private interviews

for spiritual conversation and prayer.

On 4th June 1846, he laid the foundation-stone of the Free Church

College. It had been considered a great stroke of policy that the most

commanding site in the city had been secured for the building. The

writer of this sketch, who was present on the occasion, remembers his

grand appearance after the ceremony, when his noble head appeared above

a confused pile of stones and timbers; and, producing a scrap of paper

covered with shorthand hieroglyphics, he apologised, with a broad smile,

for taking to 'the paper,' seeing it was but a scrap, whereas if he were

to speak extempore, his remarks might become an 'interminable

rigmarole.' Not a little of the short speech was addressed to the

workmen engaged in the building. That dear object of his life, to raise

the working population to a higher level of life in the best sense of

the word, came back on him in all its strength. Within the walls to be

erected, there would be, he said, no false theories of equality taught

or countenanced; but there was one equality between man and man that

would be strenuously enforced,--the essential equality of human souls;

it would be taught that, in the high count and reckoning of eternity,

the soul of the poorest of nature's children, the raggedest boy that ran

along the pavement, was of like estimation in the eye of Heaven with the

greatest and noblest of the land. The young men in that college would

ever be taught that, though their education might fit them for the

company of princes and peers, it would be their peculiar glory to be

visitants of the poor man's humble cottage, and to pray by the poor

man's dying bed. 'Heaven grant that the platform of humble life may be

raised immeasurably higher than at present, and through the whole extent

of it--that the mighty host who swarm upon its surface, brought under

the elevating power of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and so rescued from

grovelling ignorance and loathsome dissipation, may rise to a full

equality with ourselves in all that is characteristic of humanity, and

take their place, along with us, side by side, on the footing of kindred

and companionable men.' He then made a graceful allusion to the young

queen, who had mercifully escaped one of those horrible attempts on her

life that occurred in the earlier part of her reign; prayed that she

might long continue to adorn her exalted position, and concluded by

calling for three cheers on her behalf. Thus the college of the Free

Church was founded on a cordial recognition of both ends of the social

scale: with benevolent wishes for the working multitude on the one hand,

and a cordial and loyal tribute to the Sovereign on the other.

The last of the public services rendered by Dr. Chalmers to the Free

Church consisted of a paper on the education question, and of his

evidence before the Committee of the House of Commons on the refusal of

sites. It was about the time when the question of national education

was coming full into the arena of discussion; and, at the request of Mr.

Fox Maule, afterwards Earl of Dalhousie, Chalmers, who had given much

attention to the subject, recorded his views in a short paper. The

difficulty was about the introduction of religion. Dr. Chalmers's view

was substantially that which was subsequently acted upon: he advised

that there should be no legislative enactment on the subject of

religion, but that the regulation of this should be left to the

governing bodies of the several schools. Not that religion was

unimportant, but the very reverse; but because the Christian church was

so divided that it could be far better seen to by the local managers.

To this he added a conscience clause; the result being substantially the

system which prevails in Scotland at the present day. He took occasion

to add, 'We despair of any good being done in the way of Christianising

our population but through the medium of a government themselves

Christian, and endowing the true religion, which I hold to be their

imperative duty, not because it is the religion of the many, but because

it is true.'

It was in the last month of his life that he set out for London, to meet

the Site Committee. On the 9th May 1847 he preached in Marylebone

Presbyterian Church, 'with more comfort than I ever did in London.'

After replying to the questions put by the committee through Mr. Maule,

he encountered an onslaught from Sir James Graham, who came armed with a

bundle of papers containing speeches, etc., of Chalmers, by means of

which he thought to entangle him. After his long examination before Sir

James appeared, Chalmers was somewhat exhausted, but he roused himself,

and met him in the spirit of a practised warrior. The only point of

importance raised by Sir James arose out of the London lectures, in

which he had spoken very favourably of the Church of England. 'I told

him that I did not advocate the Church of England; that I felt more

hopeful of it then than now, when like to be overrun by Puseyism; that

even then I denounced its figment of an Apostolical succession, and,

without directly attacking its Erastianism, spoke of our own

independence, and in terms which provoked the jealousy of English

churchmen,' etc. etc. But a great part of the examination concerned

the voting of women at the election of office-bearers and the like; a

paltry question, as Dr. Chalmers called it, having no sort of reasonable

connection with the refusal of sites. 'We concluded,' Dr. Chalmers

wrote to his wife, 'in a state of great exhaustion, yet with an erect

demeanour and visage unabashed.'

We conclude with a glimpse of his more private life in the few years

preceding his death. Unwearied as he ever was in his endeavour to

cultivate the affections of his children, and impress them with the most

serious responsibilities of life, his interest in them seems only to

have deepened as they grew up. He began a series of monthly letters to

be addressed to each in succession, and carried it on for a considerable

time. Two of his six daughters were married, but they were not excluded

from the privilege of his fatherly correspondence. And by and by, a

grandson, Thomas Chalmers Hanna, was old enough to receive letters

fitted to interest him, and draw his affections to so loving a

grandfather. It is strange, indeed, that any biographer of Chalmers

should have represented him (as Mrs. Oliphant has done) as not showing

social affection. 'My ever dear Anne,' 'My dearest Eliza,' 'My dearest

Grace,' were his ordinary salutations, and the spirit of the letters

corresponded to the address. Very touching is his letter to his eldest

daughter on the death of a beloved infant. As for his grandson, he just

revels in affection. 'Tell Tommy how much I love him, and pray for his

being good.' On occasion of his last visit to London, he visited the

widow of his brother James, and prayed with her; a likeness of his

brother was shown him, and impressed him so much that it haunted him for

days. This was the brother that had held himself so much aloof both

from him and all the family.

In his last visit to his native Anstruther and its neighbourhood, in

1845, his unchanged and unchangeable affection for the scenes and

friends of his youth showed a marvellous freshness and tenacity. Many

are the stories of his pleasure in recalling memorials of the past. He

hunted up an old schoolfellow, a tailor, and told him that he had been

the first to acquaint him with the form of the earth. He congratulated

another schoolfellow, who, like himself, had suffered from smallpox,

that while other people's faces were 'aye getting the waur, theirs were

always getting the better o' the wear!' He sought out the place where

Lizzie Green's water-bucket used to stand, where he and his heated

playfellows had often been allowed very kindly to slake their thirst.

But most pathetic was his visit to the house of Barnsmuir. When he was

some twelve or fourteen years old, the eldest daughter of that house had

been in the habit of riding into Anstruther on a little pony, and

Chalmers had conceived a deep and tender attachment to her, like that of

Lord Byron for his Mary Duff. The young lady was married while he was

at college, and she had died many years before this visit. At his

special request her youngest sister met him at Barnsmuir. In the house,

the remembrance of that early love came upon him with singular power; he

asked respectfully about her life and death, and learned with deep

emotion that she had died in the full Christian hope, and that some of

his letters to her sister had soothed and comforted her. He then asked

if there were any portrait of her, and being shown a profile, gazed on

it with great earnestness, fixed his own card on the back of it, and,

gazing on it again, gave expression to his strong affection, and burst

into a flood of tears. It was a touching proof, as his biographer has

said, that he was as much distinguished for the tenderness and tenacity

of his attachments as for the brilliance of his gifts.

Dr. Chalmers was ever very simple, and yet in some respects singular, in

his habits of life. Abstemious he was to a degree; ever watchful lest

he should at any time be in a condition of body that would interfere

with the activity of his intellectual and spiritual nature; at times, at

least, practising total abstinence, and always great moderation in both

food and drink. It was his usual practice to spend the early part of

the day in composition and study; he so carefully excogitated his

subjects that he was ever ready to use his pen, never obliged to loiter

in order to form his plan or shape his thought, but able to write

rapidly as soon as the pen was in his hand, and seldom or never

correcting. His handwriting was anything but elegant, yet very

characteristic; the upright letters, the firmness of each stroke, and

the continuity of the whole indicating decision, force, and flow. So

exact was his view, that he could calculate for weeks and months

beforehand the rate of his progress and the day when each piece of

writing would be finished. His remarkable calculating or counting

faculty was brought into operation in what we should call fantastic

ways. In stropping his razor, he would begin with two strokes, next day

three, and so on till he reached a maximum number; then he would reverse

the process and gradually diminish till he came back to two. In walking

he put his staff to the ground regularly at each fourth step; counting,

if he chose, the number of his steps, and able to keep count even if he

should meet a friend and walk with him in animated conversation. When

he lived in Inverleith Row he delighted to find new routes to the

university, and ascertain and record their several lengths. One day, as

he told a favourite student, he had been trying to find a near road

between Comely Bank and Inverleith Row, but got entangled, as he put it

in his original way, 'in the accessories of a farmhouse, where I was set

upon by a mastiff, and so obliged to turn back.' We have noted his

delight in ascending cathedral towers, and his invariable habit of

counting the steps. At any famous stream he would lap the water, thus

making the connection more intimate between the stream and himself. His

love of order was remarkable, though one might not have supposed it from

his general manner. It was through the power of orderliness that he was

able to achieve all he did within the compass of his life. By varying

his employments,--now writing, now visiting or attending meetings, now

travelling, now preaching or lecturing, now entertaining friends, now

reading and pondering, he kept himself comparatively fresh, and seemed

at all times ready for new work. '_Nulla dies sine linea_' might have

been his motto, had it not been that every day had half a dozen linea in

place of one.

His reading, after he became a professor, was considerable, partly in

theological books, partly in books of practical religion, and to a small

extent in general literature. So little direct sign of anything

Shakespearean is there in his writings that it rather surprises us to

find him recording towards the end of his life that he had completed an

entire perusal of the great dramatist, as well as of Milton and Gibbon.

He considered Shakespeare 'an intellectual miracle, the greatest man

that ever lived.' His favourite piece was _Midsummer Night's Dream_,

showing, as Dr. Peter Bayne has remarked, 'that after all the struggles

and worries of his life, he still walked in the aerial gaiety, the

many-tinted, summerlike beauty, the genial though keen sagacity of that

poem. It is a very remarkable circumstance, telling of a gentleness of

nature, a kind, gleesome humour, an exuberant, unstrained force and

freshness of intellect, rarely seen among theologians.'

In the prosecution of his incessant labours, he was no doubt

considerably helped by his sense of humour. He knew well the relaxation

and the refreshment derived from a good laugh. Many a humorous story he

used to tell. One of his favourite stories referred to a boor who was

getting married, but was such a dolt that he could not give an answer to

the questions of the minister. One of the man's neighbours who was

present, chagrined at such want of manners, and desiring to give the

fellow a needed lesson in etiquette, gave him a slap on the back, and

said, 'Ye brute, can you no' boo to the minister?' And it mattered not

if the story told against himself. When the astronomical discourses

were delivered, Dr. Chalmers came on an honest woman who had been

hearing one of them, and was curious to know what she could make of it.

'Weel, sir,' said the woman, 'I canna say that I understood ye

a'thegether, but, O sir, there was something unco suitable and

satisfyin' in your psalms!'

During his visit to London in connection with the Site Committee in May

1847, he had greatly enjoyed his intercourse with many friends--among

them Isaac Taylor, James Hamilton, Baptist Noel, Mr. Morell, and Thomas

Carlyle. He described Carlyle as 'a strong-featured man, and of strong

sense. We were most cordial and coalescing, and he very complimentary

and pleasant; but his talk was not at all Carlylish; much rather the

plain and ordinary conversation of good, ordinary common-sense, with a

deal of hearty laughing on both sides.' Chalmers greatly lamented the

alienation which he saw between the churches and the body of literary

and scientific men. He enlarged on 'localism' and the West Port;

nothing was too hard for 'localism.' Carlyle remarked afterwards to a

friend, 'What a wonderful old man Chalmers is! or, rather, he has all

the buoyancy of youth. When so many of us are wringing our hands in

hopeless despair over the vileness and wretchedness of the large towns,

there goes the old man, shovel in hand, down into the dirtiest puddles

of the West Port of Edinburgh, cleans them out, and fills the sewers

with living waters. It is a beautiful sight.'

After a flying visit to Brighton, where he preached for one of his

former students, he proceeded to Gloucestershire, and spent a happy time

with his ever dear sister Jane. On Sunday he preached his last sermon

in the Independent chapel of the Rev. Mr. Dove, from the text Isaiah

xxvii. 4, 5. A brief visit was paid at Darlington at the house of Mr.

and Mrs. Backhouse, 'a most delicious abode.' He was profoundly

interested in Mrs. Backhouse's account of the heavenly state of mind of

her father for some time before his death; while Mrs. Backhouse was

herself deeply struck with the very same spirit in him. During this

visit the whole of his journal letters had been addressed to his wife;

on Thursday (the 27th) he wrote to her, 'This is my last sheet.

To-morrow evening I expect to see you by the favour of Him whose right

hand preserves us continually, and for whose grace on us all I ever

pray.--I ever am, my dearest Grace, yours most affectionately, Thomas

Chalmers.'

He arrived at his house in Morningside on the Friday evening (2 8th

May), apparently in his usual health and strength. On the following

morning, at breakfast, his conversation was as lively and vigorous as

ever. The forenoon of the Saturday was occupied in preparing the

College Report, which he was to give in on Monday to the General

Assembly. On the Sabbath morning he conversed freely with the Rev. Mr.

Gemmel, who was staying at his house; afterwards with Dr. Cunningham;

then attended afternoon service in Morningside Free Church, and on his

way home called on Mrs. Coutts, an old Fifeshire friend, of high

Christian character. Part of the evening was spent in writing to his

sister, Mrs. Morton, and in conversation with Mr. Gemmel. His family

never saw him more genial and happy. After worship, he bade his family

remember that they must be early to-morrow; then he waved his hand and

said, 'A general good-night.'

On the following morning he was found dead in bed. It seemed likely,

from the state of the body, that his spirit had departed soon after he

lay down. There was not the slightest trace of struggle, either on the

face or in the attitude of the body. Never did death give a lighter

touch.

In a funeral sermon preached by the Rev. Dr. Lindsay Alexander, the mode

of his departure was beautifully idealised. He recalled a passage in

one of Dr. Chalmers's sermons, in which he fancies a man 'standing on

the margin of this green world,' and feeling himself very closely bound

to 'the region of sense, and of life, and of society'; but suddenly

arrested by seeing some happy island of the blest floating past, 'in the

light of its surpassing glories, and its sounds of sweeter melody, and a

purer beauty resting on every field': discerning also in its inhabitants

'a peace, and a piety, and a benevolence that put a moral gladness into

every bosom, and united the whole society in rejoicing sympathy with

each other, and with the beneficent Father of them all'; observing,

moreover, signals of welcome for himself, and an open pathway of

communication to the island; insomuch that he is captivated by the

sight; earth becomes a wilderness, and 'the land of invitation' attracts

him with irresistible power.

'With this grand passage in my mind,' said Dr. Lindsay Alexander,' I

could not but fancy him who uttered it, as realising at the moment of

his departure some of the features of the case here supposed. I

pictured to myself how, when the premonitory touch of the Destroyer

broke his slumbers, he might imagine for a moment that he had been

summoned to his appointed work, and how, casting his eye upon the

materials he had prepared, he might begin to turn, with no reluctant

emotion, his thoughts upon the duties with which he was charged; but in

an instant another scene burst upon his view; a brighter radiance than

that of the morning sun fell upon his brow; sweeter voices than those of

wife or child broke upon his ear; a grander career of service than any

earth could furnish stretched before him; the hand of One more glorious

far than any child of man hung out to him the signals of welcome; and,

as he gazed, he acknowledged the superior claims of that brighter world,

and laid himself meekly down, and so his spirit passed rejoicingly away,

leaving his earthly tabernacle with a smile upon the lips, and not one

shade of suffering on the brow.'

On that Monday morning, the General Assembly met to receive his College

Report. When the sad news came, the shock was so overwhelming that it

would have been impossible to look at business, even if respect for his

memory had not demanded an adjournment. As men recovered somewhat from

the first shock, the sense of bereavement, of impoverishment, of

widowhood, grew the greater. There were many men of extraordinary gifts

in that Assembly, but who was there to be named with him?

An unprecedented concourse of mourners, much greater than had ever been

seen at an Edinburgh funeral, followed his body to the grave. And from

every pulpit, and from other quarters innumerable, the most respectful

and cordial tributes were paid to his memory. It was felt that since

the days of Knox no such man had been known in the Scottish church. His

greatness was shown alike by what he was and what he had done. He

seemed to combine the orator and the statesman, the ecclesiastic and the

patriot, the philosopher and the poet, the scientist and the saint. No

man had ever been so run after as a pulpit orator. No man of his day

had ever conceived so great undertakings or done so much to realise

them. His two hundred churches astonished every one; his Sustentation

Fund astonished still more. With theology in the forefront, his horizon

included philosophy, physical science, social science, political

economy, and literature; and for each and all of these he found a place

and a use in the Kingdom of God. And with all his greatness he was

simple as a child. Like his Master, 'he made himself of no

reputation'--never sought great things for himself. The world, and even

the church, hardly knew how near he lived to God--how much he had of the

saint. He was known to be very affable and affectionate, but the depth

and tenderness of his affection, especially for his own family, were

hardly suspected. When it was announced that, with all his gifts and

graces, he had passed from among his brethren, it seemed as if the

brightest star in the firmament had ceased to shine.

It is an interesting question--if Chalmers had been alive at the present

day, what would he have thought of the position of the different

branches of the Scottish church, and what counsel would he have given to

them on the subject of union?

To answer these questions we must bear two things in mind: first, that

he held the recent treatment of the church by the civil courts, and

virtually by the state itself, to be destructive of her liberty and her

life, insomuch that it had become an absolute necessity to abandon

connection with the state; but, second, that he held the state bound to

contribute to the support of the church, and the Free Church bound to

return to her old connection, provided the liberty should be restored

and practically secured of which she had been unrighteously deprived.

Would he, then, have held that liberty to be now restored, and the way

to an honourable, safe, and beneficial alliance reopened? We doubt it.

He would certainly have seen that, in point of fact, the Established

Church now enjoys a degree of liberty that enables her to discharge the

ordinary functions of a Christian church without obstruction, and in

particular to continue with great success that very enterprise of church

extension for which he thought that she would be able to do nothing.

But he could not have failed to see that this liberty was an indirect

fruit of the Disruption, and that it was quietly conceded to the

Established Church in order that she might stand practically on the same

platform of liberty with the nonconformist churches, and especially her

great rival the Free Church. He would have found no concession of

principle, no acknowledgment by the state or by the civil courts of an

essential difference between a Christian church and a civil corporation,

and no acknowledgment that the church, as the creation of Christ,

enjoyed privileges from Him independent of any state. He would have

found no repudiation of the dictum of the then Lord President that the

Established Church had no jurisdiction whatever in the country except

what had been conferred by the state; and he would have found no

security that if a new collision should occur between church and state,

between the worldly and the spiritual power, the state would repudiate

her old principles and policy.

Further, the contention of Chalmers in his London lectures and in his

latest deliverance (see p. 148) always was, that the state ought to

support religion, not merely because people wished it, but because the

religion was true. Would he, then, have found in the members of the

present Parliament any such value for revealed truth, as such, as would

have given him confidence in them as its guardians? A Parliament that

numbered Agnostics, Jews, Roman Catholics, Unitarians, and what not

among its members--how could such a body be a nursing-father or a

nursing-mother to the Christian church? Such a Parliament could not

safely be intrusted with its guardianship. It was a very different

condition of things when the Scottish church allied itself to the

Scottish Parliament, all or nearly all being members of the church. Nor

could he have found any cause for believing that at any future time,

within reasonable distance, the nursing of the church could be safely

committed to parliamentary hands.

But what then? There were three great Presbyterian churches in

Scotland, with much of their resources wasted through division, but

capable, by reasonable arrangements, of so combining their forces that

his grand object--the bringing of all Scotland under the influence of

Christian teaching--might at the least be greatly advanced. We can

hardly conceive of any other advice that Chalmers would have given than

that the vinculum of state-connection should be severed, and all the

three churches should unite, and rouse themselves for one great,

sustained, imperial effort to turn the country into the garden of the

Lord. But what of the endowments? It is just as difficult for us to

conceive that he would have been in favour of alienating them to secular

purposes. No, he would have said, that is not necessary, and should not

be; keep them for their original purpose, and place them under some

public management, so that every congregation of the united body may

have a share of them, if it please. This was certainly his feeling in a

somewhat parallel case. In 1833, when the Irish Church Reform Bill was

under discussion, Chalmers wrote to his sister, Mrs. Morton, 'I am

relieved by the bill, the only flaw in it (although that may be one of

deadly mischief) being the secularisation of the sum which they expect

from the sale of church lands.'[6] We can readily conceive how the

great soul of Chalmers would have expanded once more, and his face

beamed as the hope arose anew, that even yet his beloved country might

realise his magnificent ideal, and, by God's blessing on the labours of

a united church, its waste and desolate places might yet blossom as the

rose.

[6] _Correspondence of Dr. Chalmers_, p. 216.

No doubt, Chalmers died a disappointed man, so far as his great scheme

for the good of his country was concerned. He failed, and yet he did not

fail.

'If he strained too wide,

It was not to take honour, but give help;

The gesture was heroic. If his hand

Accomplished nothing--(well, it is not proved)

That empty hand thrown impotently out

Were sooner caught, I think, by One in heaven

Than many a hand that reaped a harvest in,

And keeps the scythe glow on it.'

We love the man for his noble aims and heroic efforts; and our love and

admiration are only touched with a tenderer feeling, in that, when he

failed, he did not abate one jot of heart or hope for his church and

country, but left behind him his West Port experiment as a monument of

what was possible, and an encouragement to all future generations to

continue to cherish what had proved for him--a hope unfulfilled.

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