Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Keren Vergon, and the PG Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at www.pgdp.net.
The Biography of
Robert Murray M'Cheyne
[Illustration: Robert Murray M'Cheyne with Signature]
* * * * *
The Biography of
Robert Murray M'Cheyne
BY
ANDREW A. BONAR
ZONDERVAN PUBLISHING HOUSE
GRAND RAPIDS, MICHIGAN
* * * * *
PUBLISHER'S PREFACE
The telling of the deeply spiritual life story of the young minister
of the Gospel of St. Peters Church, Dundee, Scotland, Robert Murray
M'Cheyne, has been used of God to bring challenge, blessing and
inspiration to hundreds of thousands down through the years since his
death in 1843 at the early age of 30. Few men have lived a life filled
with such power and blessing in such a short span of years.
Dr. Andrew A. Bonar's biography of this stalwart young man of God has
been the standard recognized work on the life of this prince among
men. This biography is from the larger _Memoirs and Remains of the Rev.
Robert Murray M'Cheyne_ with just the memoirs--or biography--reprinted.
The "remains," letters and sermons of M'Cheyne have been recently
republished in the Wyckliffe Series issued by the Moody Press, but we
are presenting in the pages of this volume Bonar's soul-stirring
biography of this young man who was so completely and wholly
surrendered to the will of God. Dr. Wilbur M. Smith, in his
"Profitable Bible Study," says, "Every minister, of whatever
denomination, should have this marvelous work."
The publishers of this unabridged edition send it forth once again
with the earnest prayer that God will continue to use it to the
inspiration and challenge of young and old alike to realize what can
be done with a life completely and absolutely dedicated to Him.
* * * * *
MEMOIR.
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
HIS YOUTH, AND PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY
"_Many shall rejoice at his birth; for he shall be great in the
sight of the Lord_"--Luke 1:14.
In the midst of the restless activity of such a day as ours, it will
be felt by ministers of Christ to be useful in no common degree, to
trace the steps of one who but lately left us, and who, during the
last years of his short life, walked calmly in almost unbroken
fellowship with the FATHER and the SON.
The date of his birth was May 21, 1813. About that time, as is now
evident to us who can look back on the past, the Great Head had a
purpose of blessing for the Church of Scotland. Eminent men of God
appeared to plead the cause of Christ. The Cross was lifted up boldly
in the midst of Church Courts which had long been ashamed of the
gospel of Christ. More spirituality and deeper seriousness began a few
years onward to prevail among the youth of our divinity halls. In the
midst of such events, whereby the Lord was secretly preparing a rich
blessing for souls in all our Borders, the subject of this Memoir was
born. "Many were to rejoice at his birth;" for he was one of the
blessings which were beginning to be dropped down upon Scotland,
though none then knew that one was born whom hundreds would look up to
as their spiritual father.
The place of his birth was Edinburgh, where his parents resided. He
was the youngest child of the family, and was called ROBERT MURRAY,
after the name of some of his kindred.
From his infancy his sweet and affectionate temper was remarked by all
who knew him. His mind was quick in its attainments; he was easily
taught the common lessons of youth, and some of his peculiar
endowments began early to appear. At the age of four, while recovering
from some illness, he selected as his recreation the study of the
Greek alphabet, and was able to name all the letters, and write them
in a rude way upon a slate. A year after, he made rapid progress in
the English class, and at an early period became somewhat eminent
among his schoolfellows for his melodious voice and powers of
recitation. There were at that time catechetical exercises held in the
Tron Church, in the interval between sermons; and some friends
remember the interest often excited in the hearers by his correct and
sweet recitation of the Psalms and passages of Scripture. But as yet
he knew not the Lord, he lived to himself, "having no hope, and
without God in the world." Eph. 2:12.
In October 1821 he entered the High School, where he continued his
literary studies during the usual period of six years. He maintained a
high place in his classes, and in the Rector's class distinguished
himself by eminence in geography and recitation. It was during the
last year of his attendance at the High School that he first ventured
on poetical composition, the subject being "Greece, but living Greece
no more." The lines are characterized chiefly by enthusiasm for
liberty and Grecian heroism, for in these days his soul had never
soared to a higher region. His companions speak of him as one who had
even then peculiarities that drew attention: of a light, tall
form--full of elasticity and vigor--ambitious, yet noble in his
dispositions, disdaining everything like meanness or deceit. Some
would have been apt to regard him as exhibiting many traits of a
Christian character; but his susceptible mind had not, at that time, a
relish for any higher joy than the refined gaieties of society, and
for such pleasures as the song and the dance could yield. He himself
regarded these as days of ungodliness--days wherein he cherished a
pure morality, but lived in heart a Pharisee. I have heard him say
that there was a correctness and propriety in his demeanor at times of
devotion, and in public worship, which some, who knew not his heart,
were ready to put to the account of real feeling. And this experience
of his own heart made him look with jealousy on the mere outward signs
of devotion in dealing with souls. He had learnt in his own case how
much a soul, unawakened to a sense of guilt, may have satisfaction in
performing from the proud consciousness of integrity towards man, and
a sentimental devotedness of mind that chastens the feelings without
changing the heart.
He had great delight in rural scenery. Most of his summer vacations
used to be spent in Dumfriesshire, and his friends in the parish of
Ruthwell and its vicinity retain a vivid remembrance of his youthful
days. His poetic temperament led him to visit whatever scenes were
fitted to stir the soul. At all periods of his life, also, he had a
love of enterprise. During the summer months he occasionally made
excursions with his brother, or some intimate friend, to visit the
lakes and hills of our Highlands, cherishing thereby, unawares, a
fondness for travel, that was most useful to him in after days. In one
of these excursions, a somewhat romantic occurrence befell the
travellers, such as we might rather have expected to meet with in the
records of his Eastern journey. He and his friends had set out on foot
to explore, at their leisure, Dunkeld, and the highlands in its
vicinity. They spent a day at Dunkeld, and about sunset set out again
with the view of crossing the hills to Strathardle. A dense mist
spread over the hills soon after they began to climb. They pressed on,
but lost the track that might have guided them safely to the glen.
They knew not how to direct their steps to any dwelling. Night came
on, and they had no resource but to couch among the heath, with no
other covering than the clothes they wore. They felt hungry and cold;
and, awaking at midnight, the awful stillness of the lonely mountains
spread a strange fear over them. But, drawing close together, they
again lay down to rest, and slept soundly till the cry of some wild
birds and the morning dawn aroused them.
Entering the Edinburgh University in November 1827, he gained some
prize in all the various classes he attended. In private he studied
the modern languages; and gymnastic exercises at that time gave him
unbounded delight. He used his pencil with much success, and then it
was that his hand was prepared for sketching the scenes of the Holy
Land. He had a very considerable knowledge of music, and himself sang
correctly and beautifully. This, too, was a gift which was used to the
glory of the Lord in after days,--wonderfully enlivening his secret
devotions, and enabling him to lead the song of praise in the
congregation wherever occasion required. Poetry also was a
never-failing recreation; and his taste in this department drew the
attention of Professor Wilson, who adjudged him the prize in the Moral
Philosophy class for a poem, "On the Covenanters."
In the winter of 1831 he commenced his studies in the Divinity Hall
under Dr. Chalmers, and the study of Church History under Dr. Welsh.
It may be naturally asked, What led him to wish to preach salvation to
his fellow-sinners? Could he say, like Robert Bruce, "_I was first
called to my grace, before I obeyed my calling to the ministry?_" Few
questions are more interesting than this; and our answer to it will
open up some of the wonderful ways of Him "whose path is in the great
waters, and whose footsteps are not known," Psalm 77:19; for the same
event that awakened his soul to a true sense of sin and misery, led
him to the ministry.
During his attendance at the literary and philosophical classes he
felt occasional impressions, none of them perhaps of much depth. There
can be no doubt that he himself looked upon the death of his eldest
brother, David, as the event which awoke him from the sleep of nature,
and brought the first beam of divine light into his soul. By that
providence the Lord was calling one soul to enjoy the treasures of
grace, while He took the other into the possession of glory.
In this brother, who was his senior by eight or nine years, the light
of divine grace shone before men with rare and solemn loveliness. His
classical attainments were very high; and, after the usual preliminary
studies, he had been admitted Writer to the Signet. One distinguishing
quality of his character was his sensitive truthfulness. In a moment
would the shadow flit across his brow, if any incident were related
wherein there was the slightest exaggeration; or even when nothing but
truth was spoken, if only the deliverer seemed to take up a false or
exaggerated view. He must not merely speak the whole truth himself,
but he must have the hearer also to apprehend the whole truth. He
spent much of his leisure hours in attending to the younger members of
the family. Tender and affectionate, his grieved look when they vexed
him by resisting his counsels, had (it is said) something in it so
persuasive that it never failed in the end to prevail on those with
whom his words had not succeeded. His youngest brother, at a time when
he lived according to the course of this world, was the subject of
many of his fervent prayers. But a deep melancholy, in a great degree
the effect of bodily ailments, settled down on David's soul. Many
weary months did he spend in awful gloom, till the trouble of his soul
wasted away his body: but the light broke in before his death; joy
from the face of a fully reconciled Father above lighted up his face;
and the peace of his last days was the sweet consolation left to his
afflicted friends, when, 8th July 1851, he fell asleep in Jesus.
The death of this brother, with all its circumstances, was used by the
Holy Spirit to produce a deep impression on Robert's soul. In many
respects--even in the gifts of a poetic mind--there had been a
congeniality between him and David. The vivacity of Robert's ever
active and lively mind was the chief point of difference. This
vivacity admirably fitted him for public life; it needed only to be
chastened and solemnized, and the event that had now occurred wrought
this effect. A few months before, the happy family circle had been
broken up by the departure of the second brother for India, in the
Bengal Medical Service; but when, in the course of the summer, David
was removed from them forever, there were impressions left such as
could never be effaced, at least from the mind of Robert. Naturally of
an intensely affectionate disposition, this stroke moved his whole
soul. His quiet hours seem to have been often spent in thoughts of him
who was now gone to glory. There are some lines remaining in which his
poetic mind has most touchingly, and with uncommon vigor, painted him
whom he had lost,--lines all the more interesting, because the
delineation of character and form which they contain cannot fail to
call up to those who knew him the image of the author himself. Some
time after his brother's death he had tried to preserve the features
of his well-remembered form, by attempting a portrait from memory; but
throwing aside the pencil in despair, he took up the pen, and poured
out the fulness of his heart.
ON PAINTING THE MINIATURE LIKENESS OF ONE DEPARTED.
ALAS! not perfect yet--another touch,
And still another, and another still,
Till those dull lips breathe life, and yonder eye
Lose its lack lustre hue, and be lit up
With the warm glance of living feeling. No--
It never can be! Ah, poor, powerless art!
Most vaunting, yet most impotent, thou seek'st
To trace the thousand, thousand shades and lights
That glowed conspicuous on the blessed face
Of him thou fain wouldst imitate--to bind
Down to the fragile canvas the wild play
Of thought and mild affection, which were wont
To dwell in the serious eye, and play around
The placid mouth. Thou seek'st to give again
That which the burning soul, inhabiting
Its clay-built tenement, alone can give--
To leave on cold dead matter the impress
Of living mind--to bid a line, a shade,
Speak forth, not words, but the soft intercourse
Which the immortal spirit, while on earth
It tabernacles, breathes from every pore--
Thoughts not converted into words, and hopes,
And fears, and hidden joys, and griefs, unborn
Into the world of sound, but beaming forth
In that expression which no words, or work
Of cunning artist, can express. In vain,
Alas! in vain!
Come hither, Painter; come,
Take up once more thine instruments--thy brush
And palette--if thy haughty art be, as thou say'st,
Omnipotent, and if thy hand can dare
To wield creative power. Renew thy toil,
And let my memory, vivified by love,
Which Death's cold separation has but warmed
And rendered sacred dictate to thy skill,
And guide thy pencil. From the jetty hair
Take off that gaudy lustre that but mocks
The true original; and let the dry,
Soft, gentle-turning locks, appear instead.
What though to fashion's garish eye they seem
Untutored and ungainly? still to me,
Than folly's foppish head-gear, lovelier far
Are they, because bespeaking mental toil,
Labor assiduous, through the golden days
(Golden if so improved) of guileless youth,
Unwearied mining in the precious stores
Of classic lore--and better, nobler still,
In God's own holy writ. And scatter here
And there a thread of grey, to mark the grief
That prematurely checked the bounding flow
Of the warm current in his veins, and shed
An early twilight o'er so bright a dawn.
No wrinkle sits upon that brow!--and thus
It ever was. The angry strife and cares
Of avaricious miser did not leave
Their base memorial on so fair a page.
The eyebrows next draw closer down, and throw
A softening shade o'er the mild orbs below.
Let the full eyelid, drooping, half conceal
The back-retiring eye; and point to earth
The long brown lashes that bespeak a soul
Like his who said, "I am not worthy, Lord!"
From underneath these lowly turning lids,
Let not shine forth the gaily sparkling light
Which dazzles oft, and oft deceives; nor yet
The dull unmeaning lustre that can gaze
Alike on all the world. But paint an eye
In whose half-hidden, steady light I read
A truth-inquiring mind; a fancy, too,
That could array in sweet poetic garb
The truth he found; while on his artless harp
He touched the gentlest feelings, which the blaze
Of winter's hearth warms in the homely heart.
And oh! recall the look of faith sincere,
With which that eye would scrutinize the page
That tells us of offended God appeased
By awful sacrifice upon the cross
Of Calvary--that bids us leave a world
Immersed in darkness and in death, and seek
A better country. Ah! how oft that eye
Would turn on me, with pity's tenderest look,
And, only half-upbraiding, bid me flee
From the vain idols of my boyish heart!
It was about the same time, while still feeling the sadness of this
bereavement, that he wrote the fragment entitled
"THE RIGHTEOUS PERISHETH, AND NO MAN LAYETH IT TO HEART."
A grave I know
Where earthly show
Is not--a mound
Whose gentle round
Sustains the load
Of a fresh sod.
Its shape is rude,
And weeds intrude
Their yellow flowers--
In gayer bowers
Unknown. The grass,
A tufted mass,
Is rank and strong,
Unsmoothed and long.
No rosebud there
Embalms the air;
No lily chaste
Adorns the waste,
Nor daisy's head
Bedecks the bed.
No myrtles wave
Above that grave;
Nor heather-bell
Is there to tell
Of gentle friend
Who sought to lend
A sweeter sleep
To him who deep
Beneath the ground
Repose has found.
No stone of woe
Is there to show
The name, or tell
How passing well
He loved his God,
And how he trod
The humble road
That leads through sorrow
To a bright morrow
Unknown in life,
And far from strife,
He lived:--and though
The magic flow
Of genius played
Around his head,
And he could weave
"The song at eve,"
And touch the heart,
With gentlest art;
Or care beguile,
And draw the smile
Of peace from those
Who wept their woes
Yet when the love
Of Christ above
To guilty men
Was shown him--then
He left the joys
Of worldly noise,
And humbly laid
His drooping head
Upon the cross;
And thought the loss
Of all that earth
Contained--of mirth,
Of loves, and fame,
And pleasures' name--
No sacrifice
To win the prize,
Which Christ secured,
When He endured
For us the load--
The wrath of God!
With many a tear,
And many a fear,
With many a sigh
And heart-wrung cry
Of timid faith,
He sought the breath:
But which can give
The power to live--
Whose word alone
Can melt the stone,
Bid tumult cease,
And all be peace!
He sought not now
To wreathe his brow
With laurel bough.
He sought no more
To gather store
Of earthly lore,
Nor vainly strove
To share the love
Of heaven above,
With aught below
That earth can show
The smile forsook
His cheek--his look
Was cold and sad;
And even the glad
Return of morn,
When the ripe corn
Waves o'er the plains,
And simple swains
With joy prepare
The toil to share
Of harvest, brought
No lively thought
To him.
And spring adorns
The sunny morns
With opening flowers;
And beauty showers
O'er lawn and mead;
Its virgin head
The snowdrop steeps
In dew, and peeps
The crocus forth,
Nor dreads the north.
But even the spring
No smile can bring
To him, whose eye
Sought in the sky
For brighter scenes,
Where intervenes
No darkening cloud
Of sin to shroud
The gazer's view.
Thus sadly flew
The merry spring;
And gaily sing
The birds their loves
In summer groves.
But not for him
Their notes they trim.
His ear is cold--
His tale is told.
Above his grave
The grass may wave--
The crowd pass by
Without a sigh
Above the spot.
They knew him not--
They could not know;
And even though,
Why should they shed
Above the dead
Who slumbers here
A single tear?
I cannot weep,
Though in my sleep
I sometimes clasp
With love's fond grasp
His gentle hand,
And see him stand
Beside my bed,
And lean his head
Upon my breast,
And bid me rest
Nor night nor day
Till I can say
That I have found
The holy ground
In which there lies
The Pearl of Price--
Till all the ties
The soul that bind,
And all the lies
The soul that blind,
Be ...
Nothing could more fully prove the deep impression which the event
made than these verses. But it was not a transient regret, nor was it
the "sorrow of the world." He was in his eighteenth year when his
brother died; and if this was not the year of his new birth, at least
it was the year when the first streaks of dawn appeared in his soul.
From that day forward his friends observed a change. His poetry was
pervaded with serious thought, and all his pursuits began to be
followed out in another spirit. He engaged in the labors of a Sabbath
school, and began to seek God to his soul, in the diligent reading of
the word, and attendance on a faithful ministry.
How important this period of his life appeared in his own view, may be
gathered from his allusions to it in later days. A year after, he
writes in his diary: "On this morning last year came the first
overwhelming blow to my worldliness; how blessed to me, Thou, O God,
only knowest, who hast made it so." Every year he marked this day as
one to be remembered, and occasionally its recollections seem to have
come in like a flood. In a letter to a friend (8th July 1842), upon a
matter entirely local, he concludes by a postscript: "This day eleven
years ago, my holy brother David entered into his rest, aged 26." And
on that same day, writing a note to one of his flock in Dundee (who
had asked him to furnish a preface to a work printed 1740, _Letters on
Spiritual Subjects_), he commends the book, and adds: "Pray for me,
that I may be made holier and wiser--less like myself, and more like
my heavenly Master; that I may not regard my life, if so be I may
finish my course with joy. This day eleven years ago, I lost my loved
and loving brother, and began to seek a Brother who cannot die."
It was to companions who could sympathize in his feelings that he
unbosomed himself. At that period it was not common for inquiring
souls to carry their case to their pastor. A conventional reserve upon
theses subjects prevailed even among lively believers. It almost
seemed as if they were ashamed of the Son of man. This reserve
appeared to him very sinful; and he felt it to be so great an evil,
that in after days he was careful to encourage anxious souls to
converse with him freely. The nature of his experience, however, we
have some means of knowing. On one occasion, a few of us who had
studied together were reviewing the Lord's dealings with our souls,
and how He had brought us to himself all very nearly at the same time,
though without any special instrumentality. He stated that there was
nothing sudden in his case, and that he was led to Christ through deep
and ever-abiding, but not awful or distracting, convictions. In this
we see the Lord's sovereignty. In bringing a soul to the Saviour, the
Holy Spirit invariably leads it to very deep consciousness of sin; but
then He causes this consciousness of sin to be more distressing and
intolerable to some than to others. But in one point does the
experience of all believing sinners agree in this matter, viz. their
soul presented to their view nothing but an abyss of sin, when the
grace of God that bringeth salvation appeared.
The Holy Spirit carried on his work in the subject of this Memoir, by
continuing to deepen in him the conviction of his ungodliness, and the
pollution of his whole nature. And all his life long, he viewed
_original sin_, not as an excuse for his actual sins, but as an
aggravation of them all. In this view he was of the mind of David,
taught by the unerring Spirit of Truth. See Psalm 51:4, 5.
At first light dawned slowly; so slowly, that for a considerable time
he still relished an occasional plunge into scenes of gaiety. Even
after entering the Divinity Hall, he could be persuaded to indulge in
lighter pursuits, at least during the two first years of his
attendance; but it was with growing alarm. When hurried away by such
worldly joys, I find him writing thus:--"_Sept. 14._--May there be few
such records as this in my biography." Then, "_Dec. 9._--A thorn in my
side--much torment." As the unholiness of his pleasures became more
apparent, he writes:--"_March 10, 1832._--I hope never to play cards
again." "_March 25._--Never visit on a Sunday evening again." "_April
10._--Absented myself from the dance; upbraidings ill to bear. But I
must try to bear the cross." It seems to be in reference to the
receding tide, which thus for a season repeatedly drew him back to the
world, that on July 8, 1836, he records: "This morning five years ago,
my dear brother David died, and my heart for the first time knew true
bereavement. Truly it was all well. Let me be dumb, for Thou didst it:
and it was good for me that I was afflicted. I know not that any
providence was ever more abused by man than that was by me; and yet,
Lord, what mountains Thou comest over! none was ever more blessed to
me." To us who can look at the results, it appears probable that the
Lord permitted him thus to try many broken cisterns, and to taste the
wormwood of many earthly streams, in order that in after days, by the
side of the fountain of living waters, he might point to the world he
had forever left, and testify the surpassing preciousness of what he
had now found.
Mr. Alexander Somerville (afterwards minister of Anderston Church,
Glasgow) was his familiar friend and companion in the gay scenes of
his youth. And he, too, about this time, having been brought to taste
the powers of the world to come, they united their efforts for each
other's welfare. They met together for the study of the Bible, and
used to exercise themselves in the Septuagint Greek and the Hebrew
original. But oftener still they met for prayer and solemn converse;
and carrying on all their studies in the same spirit, watched each
other's steps in the narrow way.
He thought himself much profited, at this period, by investigating the
subject of Election and the Free Grace of God. But it was the reading
of _The Sum of Saving Knowledge_, generally appended to our Confession
of Faith, that brought him to a clear understanding of the way of
acceptance with God. Those who are acquainted with its admirable
statements of truth, will see how well fitted it was to direct an
inquiring soul. I find him some years afterwards recording:--"_March
11, 1834._--Read in the _Sum of Saving Knowledge_, the work which I
think first of all wrought a saving change in me. How gladly would I
renew the reading of it, if that change might be carried on to
perfection!" It will be observed that he never reckoned his soul
saved, notwithstanding all his convictions and views of sins, until
he really went into the Holiest of all on the warrant of the
Redeemer's work; for assuredly a sinner is still under wrath, until he
has actually availed himself of the way to the Father opened up by
Jesus. All his knowledge of his sinfulness, and all his sad feeling of
his own need and danger, cannot place him one step farther off from
the lake of fire. It is "he that comes to Christ" that is saved.
Before this period he had received a bias towards the ministry from
his brother David, who used to speak of the ministry as the most
blessed work on earth, and often expressed the greatest delight in the
hope that his younger brother might one day become a minister of
Christ. And now, with altered views,--with an eye that could gaze on
heaven and hell, and a heart that felt the love of a reconciled
God,--he sought to become a herald of salvation.
He had begun to keep a register of his studies, and the manner in
which his time slipped away, some months before his brother's death.
For a considerable time this register contains almost nothing but the
bare incidents of the diary, and on Sabbaths the texts of the sermons
he had heard. There is one gleam of serious thought--but it is the
only one--during that period. On occasion of Dr. Andrew Thomson's
funeral, he records the deep and universal grief that pervaded the
town, and then subjoins: "Pleasing to see so much public feeling
excited on the decease of so worthy a man. How much are the times
changed within these eighteen centuries, since the time when Joseph
besought _the body_ in secret, and when he and Nicodemus were the only
ones found to bear the body to the tomb!"
It is in the end of the year that evidences of a change appear. From
that period and ever onward his dry register of every-day incidents is
varied with such passages as the following:--
"_Nov. 12._--Reading H. Martyn's Memoirs. Would I could imitate him,
giving up father, mother, country, house, health, life, all--for
Christ. And yet, what hinders? Lord, purify me, and give me strength
to dedicate myself, my all, to Thee!"
"_Dec. 4._--Reading Legh Richmond's Life. Poetentia profunda, non
sine lacrymis. Nunquam me ipsum, tam vilem, tam inutilem, tam
pauperim, et præcipue tam ingratum, adhuc vidi. Sint lacrymæ
dedicationis meæ pignora!'" ["Deep penitence, not unmixed with
tears. I never before saw myself so vile, so useless, so poor, and,
above all, so ungrateful. May these tears be the pledges of my
self-dedication!"] There is frequently at this period a sentence in
Latin occurring like the above in the midst of other matter,
apparently with the view of giving freer expression to his feelings
regarding himself.
"_Dec. 9._--Heard a street-preacher: foreign voice. Seems really in
earnest. He quoted the striking passage, 'The Spirit and the bride
say, Come, _and let him that heareth say, Come!'_ From this he seems
to derive his authority. Let me learn from this man to be in earnest
for the truth, and to despise the scoffing of the world."
_Dec. 18._--After spending an evening too lightly, he writes: "My
heart must break off from all these things. What right have I to steal
and abuse my Master's time? 'Redeem it,' He is crying to me."
"_Dec. 25._--My mind not yet calmly fixed on the Rock of Ages."
"_Jan._ 12, 1832.--Cor non pacem habet. Quare? Peccatum apud fores
manet." ["My heart has not peace. Why? Sin lieth at my door."]
"_Jan. 25._--A lovely day. Eighty-four cases of cholera at
Musselburgh, How it creeps nearer and nearer like a snake! Who will be
the first victim here? Let thine everlasting arms be around us, and we
shall be safe."
"_Jan. 29_, Sabbath.--Afternoon heard Mr. Bruce (then minister of the
New North Church, Edinburgh) on Malachi 1:1-6. It constitutes the very
gravamen of the charge against the unrenewed man, that he has
affection for his earthly parent, and reverence for his earthly
master, but none for God! Most noble discourse."
"_Feb. 2_.--Not a trait worth remembering! And yet these
four-and-twenty hours must be accounted for."
_Feb. 5_, Sabbath.--In the afternoon, having heard the late Mr. Martin
of St. George's,[1] he writes, on returning home: "O quam humilem, sed
quam diligentissimum; quam dejectum, sed quam vigilem, quam die
noctuque precantem, decet me esse quum tales viros aspicio. Juva,
Pater, Fili, et Spiritus!" ["Oh! how humble, yet how diligent, how
lowly, yet how watchful, how prayerful night and day it becomes me to
be, when I see such men. Help, Father, Son, and Spirit!"]
[1] He says of him on another occasion, _June 8, 1834_: "A man
greatly beloved of whom the world was not worthy." "An apostolic
man." His own calm deep holiness, resembled in many respects Mr.
Martin's daily walk.
From this date he seems to have sat, along with his friend Mr.
Somerville, almost entirely under Mr. Bruce's ministry. He took
copious notes of his lectures and sermons, which still remain among
his papers.
"_Feb. 28._--Sober conversation. Fain would I turn to the most
interesting of all subjects. Cowardly backwardness: 'For whosoever is
ashamed of me and my words,'" etc.
At this time, hearing, concerning a friend of the family, that she had
said, "_That she was determined to keep by the world,_" he penned the
following lines on her melancholy decision:--
She has chosen the world,
And its paltry crowd;
She has chosen the world,
And an endless shroud!
She has chosen the world
With its misnamed pleasures;
She has chosen the world,
Before heaven's own treasures.
She hath launched her boat
On life's giddy sea,
And her all is afloat
For eternity.
But Bethlehem's star
Is not in her view;
And her aim is far
From the harbor true.
When the storm descends
From an angry sky,
Ah! where from the winds
Shall the vessel fly?
[Away, then--oh, fly
From the joys of earth!
Her smile is a lie--
There's a sting in her mirth.]*
When stars are concealed,
And rudder gone,
And heaven is sealed
To the wandering one
The whirlpool opes
For the gallant prize;
And, with all her hopes,
To the deep she hies!
But who may tell
Of the place of woe,
Where the wicked dwell,
Where the worldlings go?
For the human heart
Can ne'er conceive
What joys are the part
Of them who believe;
Nor can justly think
Of the cup of death,
Which all must drink
Who despise the faith.
*Come, leave the dreams
Of this transient night,
And bask in the beams
Of an endless light.
*TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: In the original "Memoirs and Remains of
the Reverend Robert Murray McCheyne", the passage in brackets
was the first half of the last, eight-line stanza, and the
following quartet was part of the eight-line stanza beginning
"When the storm descends".
"_March 6._--Wild wind and rain all day long. Hebrew class--Psalms.
New beauty in the original every time I read. Dr. Welsh--lecture on
Pliny's letter about the Christians of Bithynia. Professor Jameson on
quartz. Dr. Chalmers grappling with Hume's arguments. Evening--Notes,
and little else. Mind and body dull." This is a specimen of his
register of daily study.
_March 20._--After a few sentences in Latin, concluding with "In meam
animam veni, Domine Deus omnipotens," he writes, "Leaning on a staff
of my own devising, it betrayed me, and broke under me. It was not thy
staff. Resolving to be a god, Thou showedst me that I was but a man.
But my own staff being broken, why may I not lay hold of thine?--Read
part of the Life of Jonathan Edwards. How feeble does my spark of
Christianity appear beside such a sun! But even his was a borrowed
light, and the same source is still open to enlighten me."
"_April 8._--Have found much rest in Him who bore all our burdens for
us."
"April 26.--To-night I ventured to break the ice of unchristian
silence. Why should not selfishness be buried beneath the Atlantic in
matters so sacred?"
_May 6_, Saturday evening.--This was the evening previous to the
Communion; and in prospect of again declaring himself the Lord's at
his table, he enters into a brief review of his state. He had partaken
of the ordinance in May of the year before for the first time; but he
was then living at ease, and saw not the solemn nature of the step he
took. He now sits down and reviews the past:--
"What a mass of corruption have I been! How great a portion of my life
have I spent wholly without God in the world, given up to sense and
the perishing things around me! Naturally of a feeling and sentimental
disposition, how much of my religion has been, and to this day is,
tinged with these colors of earth! Restrained from open vice by
educational views and the fear of man, how much ungodliness has
reigned within me! How often has it broken through all restraints, and
come out in the shape of lust and anger, mad ambitions, and unhallowed
words! Though my vice was always refined, yet how subtile and how
awfully prevalent it was! How complete a test was the Sabbath--spent
in weariness, as much of it as was given to God's service! How I
polluted it by my hypocrisies, my self-conceits, my worldly thoughts,
and worldly friends! How formally and unheedingly the Bible was
read,--how little was read,--so little that even now I have not read
it all! How unboundedly was the wild impulse of the heart obeyed! How
much more was the creature loved than the Creator!--O great God, that
didst suffer me to live whilst I so dishonored Thee, Thou knowest the
whole; and it was thy hand alone that could awaken me from the death
in which I was, and was contented to be. Gladly would I have escaped
from the Shepherd that sought me as I strayed; but He took me up in
his arms and carried me back; and yet He took me not for anything that
was in me. I was no more fit for his service than the Australian, and
no more worthy to be called and chosen. Yet why should I doubt? not
that God is unwilling, not that He is unable--of both I am assured.
But perhaps my old sins are too fearful, and my unbelief too glaring?
Nay; I come to Christ, not _although_ I am a sinner, but just
_because_ I am a sinner, even the chief." He then adds, "And though
sentiment and constitutional enthusiasm may have a great effect on
me, still I believe that my soul is in sincerity desirous and earnest
about having all its concerns at rest with God and Christ,--that his
kingdom occupies the most part of all my thoughts, and even of my
long-polluted affections. Not unto me, not unto me, be the shadow of
praise or of merit ascribed, but let all glory be given to thy most
holy name! As surely as Thou didst make the mouth with which I pray,
so surely dost Thou prompt every prayer of faith which I utter. Thou
hast made me all that I am, and given me all that I have."
Next day, after communicating, he writes: "I well remember when I was
an enemy, and especially abhorred this ordinance as binding me down;
but if I be bound to Christ in heart, I shall not dread any bands that
can draw me close to Him." Evening--"Much peace. Look back, my soul,
and view the mind that belonged to thee but twelve months ago. My
soul, thy place is in the dust!"
"_May 19._--Thought with more comfort than usual of being a witness
for Jesus in a foreign land."
"June 4.--Walking with A. Somerville by Craigleith. Conversing on
missions. If I am to go to the heathen to speak of the unsearchable
riches of Christ, this one thing must be given me, to be out of the
reach of the baneful influence of esteem or contempt. If worldly
motives go with me, I shall never convert a soul, and shall lose my
own in the labor."
"_June 22._--Variety of studies. Septuagint translation of Exodus and
Vulgate. Bought Edwards' works. Drawing--Truly there was nothing in me
that should have induced Him to choose me. I was but as the other
brands upon whom the fire is already kindled, which shall burn for
evermore! And as soon could the billet leap from the hearth and become
a green tree, as my soul could have sprung to newness of life."
_June 25._--In reference to the office of the holy ministry; "How apt
are we to lose our hours in the vainest babblings, as do the world!
How can this be with those chosen for the mighty office?
fellow-workers with God? heralds of His Son? evangelists? men set
apart to the work, chosen out of the chosen, as it were the very pick
of the flocks, who are to shine as the stars forever and ever? Alas,
alas! my soul, where shall thou appear? O Lord God, I am a little
child! But Thou wilt send an angel with a live coal from off the
altar, and touch my unclean lips, and put a tongue within my dry
mouth, so that I shall say with Isaiah, 'Here am I, send me.'" Then,
after reading a little of Edwards' works: "Oh that heart and
understanding may grow together, like brother and sister, leaning on
one another!"
"_June 27._--Life of David Brainerd. Most wonderful man! What
conflicts, what depressions, desertions, strength, advancement,
victories, within thy torn bosom! I cannot express what I think when I
think of thee. To-night, more set upon missionary enterprise than
ever."
"_June 28._--Oh for Brainerd's humility and sin-loathing
dispositions!"
"_June 30._--Much carelessness, sin, and sorrow. 'Oh wretched man than
I am, who shall deliver me from this body of sin and death?' Enter
thou, my soul, into the rock, and hide thee in the dust for fear of
the Lord and the glory of his majesty." And then he writes a few
verses, of which the following are some stanzas:--
I will arise and seek my God,
And, bowed down beneath my load,
Lay all my sins before Him;
Then He will wash my soul from sin,
And put a new heart me within,
And teach me to adore Him.
O ye that fain would find the joy--
The only one that wants alloy--
Which never is deceiving;
Come to the Well of Life with me,
And drink, as it is proffered, free,
The gospel draught receiving.
I come to Christ, because I know
The very worst are called to go;
And when in faith I find Him,
I'll walk in Him, and lean on Him,
Because I cannot move a limb
Until He say, "Unbind him."
"_July 3._--This last bitter root of worldliness that has so often
betrayed me has this night so grossly, that I cannot but regard it as
God's chosen way to make me loathe and forsake it forever. I would
vow; but it is much more like a weakly worm to pray. Sit in the dust,
O my soul!" I believe he was enabled to keep his resolution. Once
only, in the end of this year, was he again led back to gaiety; but it
was the last time.
"_July 7_, Saturday.--After finishing my usual studies, tried to fast
a little, with much prayer and earnest seeking of God's face,
remembering what occurred this night last year." (Alluding to his
brother's death.)
"_July 22._--Had this evening a more complete understanding of that
self-emptying and abasement with which it is necessary to come to
Christ,--a denying of self, trampling it under foot,--a recognizing of
the complete righteousness and justice of God, that could do nothing
else with us but condemn us utterly, and thrust us down to lowest
hell,--a feeling that, even in hell, we _should_ rejoice in his
sovereignty, and say that all was rightly done."
"_Aug. 15._--Little done, and as little suffered. Awfully important
question, Am I redeeming the time?"
"_Aug. 18._--Heard of the death of James Somerville[2] by fever,
induced by cholera. O God, thy ways and thoughts are not as ours! He
had preached his first sermon. I saw him last on Friday, 27th July, at
the College gate; shook hands, and little thought I was to see him no
more on earth."
[2] Son of the minister of Drumelzier,--very promising and very
amiable.
"_Sept. 2_, Sabbath evening.--Reading. Too much engrossed, and too
little devotional. Preparation for a fall. Warning. We may be too
engrossed with the shell even of heavenly things."
"_Sept. 9._--Oh for true, unfeigned humility! I know I have cause to
be humble; and yet I do not know one-half of that cause. I know I am
proud; and yet I do not know the half of that pride."
"_Sept. 30._--Somewhat straitened by loose Sabbath observance. Best
way is to be explicit and manly."
"_Nov. 1._--More abundant longings for the work of the ministry. Oh
that Christ would but count me faithful, that a dispensation of the
gospel might be committed to me!" And then he adds, "Much peace.
_Peaceful, because believing_."
_Dec. 2._--Hitherto he used to spend much of the Sabbath evening in
extending his notes of Mr. Bruce's sermons, but now, "Determined to be
brief with these, for the sake of a more practical, meditative,
resting, sabbatical evening."
"_Dec. 11._--Mind quite unfitted for devotion. Prayerless prayer."
"_Dec. 31._--God has in this past year introduced me to the
preparation of the ministry,--I bless Him for that. He has helped me
to give up much of my shame to name his name, and be on his side,
especially before particular friends,--I bless Him for that. He has
taken conclusively away friends that might have been a snare,--must
have been a stumbling-block,--I bless Him for that. He has introduced
me to one Christian friend, and sealed more and more my amity with
another,--I bless Him for that."
_Jan. 27_, 1833.--On this day it had been the custom of his brother
David to write a "Carmen Natale" on their father's birth-day. Robert
took up the domestic song this year; and in doing so, makes some
beautiful and tender allusions.
Ah! where is the harp that was strung to thy praise,
So oft and so sweetly in happier days?
When the tears that we shed were the tears of our joy,
And the pleasures of home were unmixed with alloy?
The harp is now mute--its last breathings are spoken--
And the cord, though 'twas threefold, is now, alas, broken!
Yet why should we murmur, short-sighted and vain,
Since death to that loved one was undying gain?
Ah, fools! shall we grieve that he left this poor scene,
To dwell in the realms that are ever serene?
Through he sparkled the gem in our circle of love,
He is even more prized in the circles above.
And though sweetly he sung of his father on earth,
When this day would inspire him with tenderest mirth,
Yet a holier tone to his harp is now given,
_As he sings to his unborn Father in heaven_.
Feb. 3.--Writing to a medical friend of his brother William's, he
says, "I remember long ago a remark you once made to William, which
has somehow or other stuck in my head, viz. that medical men ought to
make a distinct study of the Bible, purely for the sake of
administering conviction and consolation to their patients. I think
you also said that you had actually begun with that view. Such a
determination, though formed in youth, is one which I trust riper
years will not make you blush to own."
"_Feb. 11._--Somewhat overcome. Let me see: there is a creeping defect
here. Humble purpose-like reading of the word omitted. What plant can
be unwatered and not wither?"
"_Feb. 16._--Walk to Corstorphine Hill. Exquisite clear view,--blue
water, and brown fields, and green firs. Many thoughts on the follies
of my youth. How many, O Lord, may they be? Summed up in
one--ungodliness!"
"_Feb. 21._--Am I as willing as ever to preach to the lost heathen?"
"_March 8._--Biblical criticism. This must not supersede heart-work.
How apt it is!"
"_March 12._--Oh for activity, activity, activity!"
"_March 29._--To-day my second session (at the Divinity Hall) ends. I
am now in the middle of my career. God hold me on with a steady pace!"
"_March 31._--The bull tosses in the net! How should the Christian
imitate the anxieties of the worldling!"
_April 17._--He heard of the death of one whom many friends had
esteemed much and lamented deeply. This led him to touch the strings
of his harp again, in a measure somewhat irregular, yet sad and sweet.
"WE ALL DO FADE AS A LEAF."
SHE LIVED--
So dying-like and frail,
That every bitter gale
Of winter seemed to blow
Only to lay her low!
She lived to show how He,
Who stills the stormy sea,
Can overrule the winter's power,
And keep alive the tiniest flower--
Can bear the young lamb in his arms
And shelter it from death's alarms.
SHE DIED--
When spring, with brightest flowers,
Was fresh'ning all the bowers.
The linnet sung her choicest lay,
When her sweet voice was hush'd for aye
The snowdrop rose above the ground
When she beneath her pillow found,
Both cold, and white, and fair,--
She, fairest of the fair,
She died to teach us all
The loveliest must fall.
A curse is written on the brow
Of beauty; and the lover's vow
Cannot retain the flitting breath,
Nor save from all-devouring death.
SHE LIVES--
The spirit left the earth;
And he who gave her birth
Has called her to his dread abode,
To meet her Saviour and her God.
She lives, to tell how blest
Is the everlasting rest
Of those who, in the Lamb's blood laved,
Are chosen, sanctified, and saved!
How fearful is their doom
Who drop into the tomb
Without a covert from the ire
Of Him who is consuming fire!
SHE SHALL LIVE--
The grave shall yield his prize,
When, from the rending skies,
Christ shall with shouting angels come
To wake the slumberers of the tomb.
And many more shall rise
Before our longing eyes.
Oh! may we all together meet,
Embracing the Redeemer's feet!
"_May 20._--General Assembly. The motion regarding Chapels of Ease
lost by 106 to 103. Every shock of the ram is heavier and stronger,
till all shall give way."
"_June 4._--Evening almost lost. Music will not sanctify, though it
make feminine the heart."
"_June 22._--Omissions make way for commissions. Could I but take
effective warning! A world's wealth would not make up for that saying,
'If any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father.' But how shall
we that are dead to sin live any longer therein?"
"_June 30._--Self-examination. Why is a missionary life so often an
object of my thoughts? Is it simply for the love I bear to souls?
Then, why do I not show it more where I am? Souls are as precious here
as in Burmah. Does the romance of the business not weigh anything with
me?--the interest and esteem I would carry with me?--the nice journals
and letters I should write and receive? Why would I so much rather go
to the East than to the West Indies? Am I wholly deceiving my own
heart? and have I not a spark of true missionary zeal? Lord, give me
to understand and imitate the spirit of those unearthly words of thy
dear Son: 'It is enough for the disciple that he be as his Master, and
the servant as his Lord.' 'He that loveth father or mother more than
me, is not worthy of me.' _Gloria in excelsis Deo!_
"_Aug. 13._--Clear conviction of sin is the only true origin of
dependence on another's righteousness, and therefore (strange to say!)
of the Christian's peace of mind and cheerfulness."
"_Sept. 8._--Reading _Adams' Private Thoughts_. Oh for his
heart-searching humility! Ah me! on what mountains of pride must I be
wandering, when all I do is tinctured with the very sins this man so
deplores; yet where are my wailings, where my tears, over my love of
praise?"
"_Nov. 14._--Composition--a pleasant kind of labor. I fear the love of
applause or effect goes a great way. May God keep me from preaching
myself instead of Christ crucified."
"_Jan. 15_, 1834.--Heard of the death of J.S., off the Cape of Good
Hope. O God! how Thou breakest into families! Must not the disease be
dangerous, when a tender-hearted surgeon cuts deep into the flesh? How
much more when God is the operator, 'who afflicteth not _from his
heart_ [[Hebrew: meilivo]], nor grieveth the children of men!' Lam.
3:33."
"_Feb. 23_, Sabbath.--Rose early to seek God, and found Him whom my
soul loveth. Who would not rise early to meet such company? The rains
are over and gone. They that sow in tears shall reap in joy."
_Feb. 24._--He writes a letter to one who, he feared, was only
sentimental, and not really under a sense of sin. "Is it possible,
think you, for a person to be conceited of his miseries? May there not
be a deep leaven of pride in telling how desolate and how unfeeling we
are?--in brooding over our unearthly pains?--in our being excluded
from the unsympathetic world?--in our being the invalids of Christ's
hospital?" He had himself been taught by the Spirit that it is more
humbling for us to _take what grace offers_, than to bewail our wants
and worthlessness.
Two days after, he records, with thankful astonishment, that for the
first time in his life he had been blest to awaken a soul. All who
find Christ for themselves are impelled, by the holy necessity of
constraining love, to seek the salvation of others. Andrew findeth his
brother Peter, and Philip findeth his friend Nathanael. So was it in
the case before us. He no sooner knew Christ's righteousness as his
own covering, than he longed to see others clothed in the same
spotless robe. And it is peculiarly interesting to read the feelings
of one who was yet to be blest in plucking so many brands from the
fire, when, for the first time, he saw the Lord graciously employing
him in this more than angelic work. We have his own testimony. "_Feb.
26._--After sermon. The precious tidings that a soul has been melted
down by the grace of the Saviour. How blessed an answer to prayer, if
it be really so! 'Can these dry bones live? Lord, Thou knowest.' What
a blessed thing it is to see the first grievings of the awakened
spirit, when it cries, 'I cannot see myself a sinner; I cannot pray,
for my vile heart wanders!' It has refreshed me more than a thousand
sermons. I know not how to thank and admire God sufficiently for this
incipient work. Lord, perfect that which Thou hast begun!" A few days
after: "Lord, I thank Thee that Thou hast shown me this marvellous
working, though I was but an adoring spectator rather than an
instrument."
It is scarcely less interesting, in the case of one so gifted for the
work of visiting the careless, and so singularly skilled in
ministering the word by the bedside of the dying, to find a record of
the occasion when the Lord led him forth to take his first survey of
this field of labor. There existed at that time, among some of the
students attending the Divinity Hall, a society, the sole object of
which was to stir up each other to set apart an hour or two every week
for visiting the careless and needy in the most neglected portions of
the town. Our rule was, not to subtract anything from our times of
study, but to devote to this work an occasional hour in the intervals
between different classes, or an hour that might otherwise have been
given to recreation. All of us felt the work to be trying to the flesh
at the outset; but none ever repented of persevering in it. One
Saturday forenoon, at the close of the usual prayer-meeting, which met
in Dr. Chalmers' vestry, we went up together to a district in the
Castle Hill. It was Robert's first near view of the heathenism of his
native city, and the effect was enduring.
"_March 3._--Accompanied A.B. in one of his rounds through some of the
most miserable habitations I ever beheld. Such scenes I never before
dreamed of. Ah! why am I such a stranger to the poor of my native
town? I have passed their doors thousands of times; I have admired the
huge black piles of building, with their lofty chimneys breaking the
sun's rays,--why have I never ventured within? How dwelleth the love
of God in me? How cordial is the welcome even of the poorest and most
loathsome to the voice of Christian sympathy! What imbedded masses of
human beings are huddled together, unvisited by friend or minister!
'No man careth for our souls' is written over every forehead. Awake,
my soul! Why should I give hours and days any longer to the vain
world, when there is such a world of misery at my very door? Lord, put
thine own strength in me; confirm every good resolution; forgive my
past long life of uselessness and folly."
He forthwith became one of the society's most steady members,
cultivating a district in the Canongate, teaching a Sabbath school,
and distributing the Monthly Visitor, along with Mr. Somerville. His
experience there was fitted to give him insight into the sinner's
depravity in all its forms. His first visit in his district is thus
noticed: "_March 24._--Visited two families with tolerable success.
God grant a blessing may go with us! Began in fear and weakness, and
in much trembling. May the power be of God." Soon after, he narrates
the following scene:--"Entered the house of ----. Heard her swearing
as I came up the stair. Found her storming at three little
grandchildren, whom her daughter had left with her. She is a seared,
hard-hearted wretch. Read Ezekiel 33. Interrupted by the entrance of
her second daughter, furiously demanding her marriage lines. Became
more discreet. Promised to come back--never came. Her father-in-law
entered, a hideous spectacle of an aged drunkard, demanding money.
Left the house with warnings." Another case he particularly mentions
of a sick woman, who, though careless before, suddenly seemed to float
into a sea of joy, without being able to give any scriptural account
of the change. She continued, I believe, to her death in this state;
but he feared it was a subtile delusion of Satan as an angel of light.
One soul, however, was, to all appearance, brought truly to the Rock
of Ages during his and his friend's prayerful visitations. These were
first-fruits.
He continues his diary, though often considerable intervals occur in
the register of his spiritual state.
"_May 9._--How kindly has God thwarted me in every instance where I
sought to en lave myself! I will learn at least to glory in
disappointments."
"_May 10._--At the Communion. Felt less use for the minister than
ever. Let the Master of the feast alone speak to my heart." He felt at
such times, as many of the Lord's people have always done, that it is
not the addresses of the ministers in serving the table, but the
_Supper itself_, that ought to "satiate their souls with fatness."
_May 21._--It is affecting to us to read the following entry:--"This
day I attained my twenty-first year. Oh! how long and how worthlessly
I have lived, Thou only knowest. _Neff_ died in his thirty-first year;
when shall I?"[3]
[3] It is worthy of notice how often the Lord has done much work
by a few years of holy labor. In our Church, G. Gillespie and J.
Durham died at thirty-six; Hugh Binning at twenty-six; Andrew
Gray when scarcely at twenty-two. Of our witnesses, Patrick
Hamilton was cut off at twenty-four, and Hugh M'Kail at
twenty-six. In other churches we might mention many, such as John
Janeway at twenty-three, David Brainerd at thirty, and Henry
Martyn at thirty-two. Theirs was a short life, filled up with
usefulness, and crowned with glory. Oh to be as they!
_May 29._--He this day wrote very faithfully, yet very kindly, to one
who seemed to him not a believer, and who nevertheless appropriated to
herself the _promises_ of God. "If you are wholly unassured of your
being a believer, is it not a contradiction in terms to say, that you
are sure the believers' promises belong to you? Are you _an assured
believer_? If so, rejoice in your heirship; and yet rejoice with
trembling; for that is the very character of God's heirs. But are you
_unassured_--nay, _wholly unassured_? then what mad presumption to say
to your soul, that these promises, being in the Bible, must belong
indiscriminately to all! It is too gross a contradiction for you to
compass, except in word." He then shows that _Christ's free offer_
must be accepted by the sinner, and so the _promises_ become his.
"This sinner complies with the call or offer, 'Come unto me;' and
thereafter, but not before, can claim the annexed _promise_ as his: 'I
will give thee rest.'"
"_Aug. 14._--Partial fast, and seeking God's face by prayer. This day
thirty years, my late dear brother was born. Oh for more love, and
then will come more peace!" That same evening he wrote the hymn, "_The
Barren Fig-tree_."
"_Oct. 17._--Private meditation exchanged for conversation. Here is
the root of the evil,--forsake God, and He forsakes us."
Some evening this month he had been reading _Baxter's Call to the
Unconverted_. Deeply impressed with the affectionate and awfully
solemn urgency of the man of God, he wrote--
Though Baxter's lips have long in silence hung,
And death long hush'd that sinner-wakening tongue,
Yet still, though dead, he speaks aloud to all,
And from the grave still issues forth his "Call:"
Like some loud angel-voice from Zion hill,
The mighty echo rolls and rumbles still.
Oh grant that we, when sleeping in the dust,
May thus speak forth the wisdom of the just!
Mr. M'Cheyne was peculiarly subject to attacks of fever, and by one of
these was he laid down on a sick-bed on November 15th. However, this
attack was of short duration. On the 21st he writes: "Bless the Lord,
O my soul, and forget not all his benefits. Learned more and more of
the value of _Jehovah Tzidkenu_." He had, three days before, written
his well-known hymn, "_I once was a stranger_," etc., entitled
_Jehovah Tzidkenu, the Watchword of the Reformers_. It was the fruit
of a slight illness which had tried his soul, by setting it more
immediately in view of the judgment-seat of Christ; and the hymn which
he so sweetly sung reveals the sure and solid confidence of his soul.
In reference to that same illness, he seems to have penned the
following lines. November 24th:--
He tenderly binds up the broken in heart,
The soul bowed down He will raise:
For mourning, the ointment of joy will impart:
For heaviness, garments of praise.
Ah, come, then, and sing to the praise of our God,
Who giveth and taketh away;
Who first by his kindness, and then by his rod,
Would teach us, poor sinners, to pray.
For in the assembly of Jesus' first-born,
Who anthems of gratitude raise,
Each heart has by great tribulation been torn,
Each voice turned from wailing to praise.
"_Nov. 9._--Heard of Edward Irving's death. I look back upon him with
awe, as on the saints and martyrs of old. A holy man in spite of all
his delusions and errors. He is now with his God and Saviour, whom he
wronged so much, yet, I am persuaded, loved so sincerely. How should
we lean for wisdom, not on ourselves, but on the God of all grace!"
"_Nov. 21._--If nothing else will do to sever me from my sins, Lord
send me such sore and trying calamities as shall awake me from earthly
slumbers. It must always be best to be alive to Thee, whatever be the
quickening instrument. I tremble as I write, for oh! on every hand do
I see too likely occasions for sore afflictions."
"_Feb._ 15, 1835.--To-morrow I undergo my trials before the
Presbytery. May God give me courage in the hour of need. What should I
fear? If God see meet to put me into the ministry, who shall keep me
back? If I be not meet, why should I be thrust forward? To thy service
I desire to dedicate myself over and over again."
"_March 1._--Bodily service. What change is there in the heart! Wild,
earthly affections there are here; strong, coarse passions; bands both
of iron and silk. But I thank Thee, O my God, that they make me cry,
'Oh wretched man!' Bodily weakness, too, depresses me."
"_March 29._--College finished on Friday last. My last appearance
there. Life itself is vanishing fast. Make haste for eternity."
In such records as these, we read God's dealings with his soul up to
the time when he was licensed to preach the gospel. His preparatory
discipline, both of heart and of intellect, had been directed by the
Great Head of the Church in a way that remarkably qualified him for
the work he was to perform in the vineyard.
His soul was prepared for the awful work of the ministry by much
prayer, and much study of the word of God; by affliction in his
person; by inward trials and sore temptations; by experience of the
depth of corruption in his own heart, and by discoveries of the
Saviour's fulness of grace. He learned experimentally to ask, "Who is
he that overcometh the world, but he that believeth that Jesus is the
Son of God!" I John 5:5. During the four years that followed his
awakening, he was oftentimes under the many waters, but was ever
raised again by the same divine hand that had drawn him out at the
first; till at length, though still often violently tossed, the vessel
was able steadily to keep the summit of the wave. It appears that he
learned the way of salvation experimentally, ere he knew it accurately
by theory and system; and thus no doubt it was that his whole ministry
was little else than a giving out of his own inward life.
The Visiting Society noticed above was much blessed to the culture of
his soul, and not less so the Missionary Association and the Prayer
Meeting connected with it. None were more regular at the hour of
prayer than he, and none more frequently led up our praises to the
throne. He was for some time Secretary to the Association, and
interested himself deeply in details of missionary labors. Indeed, to
the last day of his life, his thoughts often turned to foreign lands;
and one of the last notes he wrote was to the Secretary of the
Association in Edinburgh, expressing his unabated interest in their
prosperity.
During the first years of his college course, his studies did not
absorb his whole attention; but no sooner was the change on his soul
begun, than his studies shared in the results. A deeper sense of
responsibility led him to occupy his talents for the service of Him
who bestowed them. There have been few who, along with a devotedness
of spirit that sought to be ever directly engaged in the Lord's work,
have nevertheless retained such continued and undecaying esteem for
the advantages of study. While attending the usual literary and
philosophical classes, he found time to turn his attention to Geology
and Natural History. And often in his days of most successful
preaching, when, next to his own soul, his parish and his flock were
his only care, he has been known to express a regret that he had not
laid up in former days more stores of all useful knowledge; for he
found himself able to use the jewels of the Egyptians in the service
of Christ. His previous studies would sometimes flash into his mind
some happy illustration of divine truth, at the very moment when he
was most solemnly applying the glorious gospel to the most ignorant
and vile.
His own words will best show his estimate of study, and at the same
time the prayerful manner in which he felt it should be carried on.
"Do get on with your studies," he wrote to a young student in 1840.
"Remember you are now forming the character of your future ministry in
great measure, if God spare you. If you acquire slovenly or sleepy
habits of study now, you will never get the better of it. Do
everything in its own time. Do everything in earnest; if it is worth
doing, then do it with all your might. Above all, keep much in the
presence of God. Never see the face of man till you have seen his face
who is our life, our all. Pray for others; pray for your teachers,
fellow-students," etc. To another he wrote: "Beware of the atmosphere
of the classics. It is pernicious indeed; and you need much of the
south wind breathing over the Scriptures to counteract it. True, we
ought to know them; but only as chemists handle poisons--to discover
their qualities, not to infect their blood with them." And again:
"Pray that the Holy Spirit would not only make you a believing and
holy lad, but make you wise in your studies also. A ray of divine
light in the soul sometimes clears up a mathematical problem
wonderfully. The smile of God calms the spirit, and the left hand of
Jesus holds up the fainting head, and his Holy Spirit quickens the
affection, so that even natural studies go on a million times more
easily and comfortably."
Before entering the Divinity Hall, he had attended a private class for
the study of Hebrew; and having afterwards attended the two sessions
of Dr. Brunton's college class, he made much progress in that
language. He could consult the Hebrew original of the Old Testament
with as much ease as most of our ministers are able to consult the
Greek of the New.
It was about the time of his first year's attendance at the Hall that
I began to know him as an intimate friend. During the summer
vacations,--that we might redeem the time,--some of us who remained in
town, when most of our fellow-students were gone to the country, used
to meet once every week in the forenoon, for the purpose of
investigating some point of _Systematic Divinity_, and stating to each
other the amount and result of our private reading. At another time we
met in a similar way, till we had overtaken the chief points of the
_Popish controversy_. Advancement in our acquaintance with the Greek
and Hebrew Scriptures also brought us together; and one summer the
study of _Unfulfilled Prophecy_ assembled a few of us once a week, at
an early morning hour, when, though our views differed much on
particular points, we never failed to get food to our souls in the
Scriptures we explored. But no society of this kind was more useful
and pleasant to us than one which, from its object, received the name
of _Exegetical_. It met during the session of the Theological classes
every Saturday morning at half-past six. The study of Biblical
criticism, and whatever might cast light on the word of God, was our
aim; and these meetings were kept up regularly during four sessions.
Mr. M'Cheyne spoke of himself as indebted to this society for much of
that discipline of mind on Jewish literature and Scripture geography
which was found to be so useful in the Mission of Inquiry to the Jews
in after days.[4]
[4] The members of this Society were--Rev. _William Laughton_,
now Minister of St Thomas's, Greenock, in connection with the
Free Church; _Thomas Brown,_ Free Church, Kinneff; _William
Wilson_, Free Church, Carmyllie; _Horatius Bonar_, Free Church,
Kelso; _Andrew A. Bonar_, Free Church, Collace; _Robert M.
M'Cheyne; Alexander Somerville_, Free Church, Anderston, Glasgow;
_John Thomson_, Mariners' Free Church, Leith; _Robert K.
Hamilton_, Madras; _John Burne_, for some time at Madeira;
_Patrick Borrowman_, Free Church, Glencairn; _Walter Wood_, Free
Church, Westruther; _Henry Moncrieff_, Free Church, Kilbride;
_James Cochrane_, Established Church, Cupar; _John Miller_,
Secretary to Free Church Special Commission; _G. Smeaton_, Free
Church, Auchterarder; _Robert Kinnear_, Free Church, Moffat; and
_W.B. Clarke_, Free Church, Half-Morton. Every meeting was opened
and closed with prayer. Minutes of the discussions were kept; and
the essays read were preserved in volumes. A very characteristic
essay of Mr. M'Cheyne's is "Lebanon and its Scenery" (inserted in
the _Remains_), wherein he adduces the evidence of travellers for
facts and customs which he himself was afterwards to see. Often,
in 1839, pleasant remembrances of these days of youthful study
were suggested by what we actually witnessed; and in the essay
referred to I find an interesting coincidence. He writes: "What a
refreshing sight to his eye, yet undimmed with age, after resting
forty years on the monotonous scenery of the desert, now to rest
on Zion's olive-clad hills, and Lebanon, with its vine-clad base
and overhanging forests, and towering peaks of snow!" This was
the very impression on our minds when we ourselves came up from
the wilderness as expressed in the _Narrative_, chap. 2--"May 29.
Next morning we saw at a distance a range of hills, running north
and south, called by the Arabs _Djebel Khalie_. After wandering
so many days in the wilderness, with its vast monotonous plains
of level sand, the sight of these distant mountains was a
pleasant relief to the eye; and we thought we could understand a
little of the feeling with which Moses, after being forty years
in the desert, would pray, 'I pray Thee let me go over,'" Deut.
3:25.
But these helps in study were all the while no more than
supplementary. The regular systematic studies of the Hall furnished
the main provision for his mental culture. Under Dr. Chalmers for
Divinity, and under Dr. Welsh for Church History, a course of four
years afforded no ordinary advantages for enlarging the understanding.
New fields of thought were daily opened up. His notes and his diary
testify that he endeavored to retain what he heard, and that he used
to read as much of the books recommended by the professors as his time
enabled him to overtake. Many years after, he thankfully called to
mind lessons that had been taught in these classes. Riding one day
with Mr. Hamilton (now of Regent Square, London) from Abernyte to
Dundee, they were led to speak of the best mode of dividing a sermon.
"I used," said he, "to despise Dr. Welsh's rules at the time I heard
him; but now I feel I _must use_ them, for nothing is more needful for
making a sermon memorable and impressive than a logical arrangement."
His intellectual powers were of a high order: clear and distinct
apprehension of his subject, and felicitous illustration,
characterized him among all his companions. To an eager desire for
wide acquaintance with truth in all its departments, and a memory
strong and accurate in retaining what he found, there was added a
remarkable candor in examining what claimed to be the truth. He had
also an ingenious and enterprising mind--a mind that could carry out
what was suggested, when it did not strike out new light for itself.
He possessed great powers of analysis; often his judgment discovered
singular discrimination. His imagination seldom sought out object of
grandeur; for, as a friend has truly said of him, "he had a kind and
quiet eye, which found out the living and beautiful in nature, rather
than the majestic and sublime."
He might have risen to high eminence in the circles of taste and
literature, but denied himself all such hopes, that he might win
souls. With such peculiar talents as he possessed, his ministry might
have, in any circumstances, attracted many; but these attractions were
all made subsidiary to the single desire of awakening the dead in
trespasses and sins. Nor would he have expected to be blessed to the
salvation of souls unless he had himself been a monument of sovereign
grace. In his esteem, "_to be in Christ before being in the ministry_"
was a thing indispensable. He often pointed to those solemn words of
Jeremiah (23:21): "_I have not sent these prophets, yet they ran; I
have not spoken to them, yet they prophesied. But if they had stood in
my counsel, and caused my people to hear my words, then they should
have turned them from their evil way, and from the evil of their
doings._"
It was with faith already in his heart that he went forward to the
holy office of the ministry, receiving from his Lord the rod by which
he was to do signs, and which, when it had opened rocks and made
waters gush out, he never failed to replace upon the ark whence it was
taken, giving glory to God! He knew not the way by which God was
leading him; but even then he was under the guidance of the
pillar-cloud. At this very period he wrote that hymn, _They sing the
song of Moses_. His course was then about to begin; but now that it
has ended, we can look back and plainly see that the faith he therein
expressed was not in vain.