HIS MISSION TO PALESTINE AND THE JEWS.
"_Here am I; send me_"--Isaiah 6:8.
Though engaged night and day with his flock in St. Peter's, Mr.
M'Cheyne ever cherished a missionary spirit. "This place hardens me
for a foreign land," was his remark on one occasion. This spirit he
sought to kindle yet more by reading missionary intelligence for his
own use, and often to his people at his weekly prayer-meeting. The
necessities both of his own parish, and of the world at large, lay
heavy on his soul; and when an opportunity of evangelizing occurred,
there was none in Scotland more ready to embrace it. He seemed one who
stood with his loins girt: "Here am I; send me."
Another motive to incessant activity, was the decided impression on
his mind that his career would be short. From the very first days of
his ministry he had a strong feeling of this nature; and his friends
remember how his letters used to be sealed with this seal, "_The night
cometh_" At a time when he was apparently in his usual health, we were
talking together on the subject of the Pre-millennial Advent. We had
begun to speak of the practical influence which the belief of that
doctrine might have. At length he said, "That he saw no force in the
arguments generally urged against it, though he had difficulties of
his own in regard to it. And perhaps (he added) it is well for you,
who enjoy constant health, to be so firmly persuaded that Christ is
thus to come; but my sickly frame makes me feel every day that my time
may be very short."
He was therefore in some measure prepared, when, in the midst of his
laborious duties, he was compelled to stand still and see what the
Lord would do.
In the close of 1838, some symptoms appeared that alarmed his friends.
His constitution, never robust, began to feel the effects of
unremitting labor; for occasionally he would spend six hours in
visiting, and then the same evening preach in some room to all the
families whom he had that day visited. Very generally, too, on
Sabbath, after preaching twice to his own flock, he was engaged in
ministering somewhere else in the evening. But now, after any great
exertion, he was attacked by violent palpitation of heart. It soon
increased, affecting him in his hours of study; and at last it became
almost constant. Upon this, his medical advisers insisted on a total
cessation of his public work; for though as yet there was no organic
change on his lungs, there was every reason to apprehend that that
might be the result. Accordingly, with deep regret, he left Dundee to
seek rest and change of occupation, hoping it would be only for a week
or two.
A few days after leaving Dundee, he writes from Edinburgh, in reply to
the anxious inquiries of his friend Mr. Grierson: "The beating of the
heart is not now so constant as it was before. The pitcher draws more
quietly at the cistern; so that, by the kind providence of our
heavenly Father, I may be spared a little longer before the silver
cord be loosed, and the golden bowl be broken."
It was found that his complaints were such as would be likely to give
way under careful treatment, and a temporary cessation from all
exertion. Under his father's roof, therefore, in Edinburgh, he
resigned himself to the will of his Father in heaven. But deeply did
he feel the trial of being laid aside from his loved employment,
though he learned of Him who was meek and lowly, to make the burden
light in his own way, by saying, "Even so, Father, for so it seemeth
good in thy sight." He wrote to Mr. Grierson again, _January 5, 1839_:
"I hope this affliction will be blessed to me. I always feel much need
of God's afflicting hand. In the whirl of active labor there is so
little time for watching, and for bewailing, and seeking grace to
oppose the sins of our ministry, that I always feel it a blessed thing
when the Saviour takes me aside from the crowd, as He took the blind
man out of the town, and removes the veil, and clears away obscuring
mists, and by his word and Spirit leads to deeper peace and a holier
walk. Ah! there is nothing like a calm look into the eternal world to
teach us the emptiness of human praise, the sinfulness of
self-seeking and vainglory, to teach us the preciousness of Christ,
who is called 'The Tried Stone.' I have been able to be twice at
college to hear a lecture from Dr. Chalmers. I have also been
privileged to smooth down the dying pillow of an old school-companion,
leading him to a fuller joy and peace in believing. A poor heavy-laden
soul, too, from Larbert, I have had the joy of leading toward the
Saviour. So that even when absent from my work, and when exiled, as it
were, God allows me to do some little things for his name."
He was led to look more carefully into this trying dispensation, and
began to anticipate blessed results from it to his flock. He was well
aware how easily the flock begin to idolize the shepherd, and how
prone the shepherd is to feel somewhat pleased with this sinful
partiality of his people, and to be uplifted by his success. "I
sometimes think," is his remark in a letter, dated _January 18_, "that
a great blessing may come to my people in my absence. Often God does
not bless us when we are in the midst of our labors, lest we shall
say, 'My hand and my eloquence have done it.' He removes us into
silence, and then pours 'down a blessing so that there is no room to
receive it;' so that all that see it cry out, 'It is the Lord!' This
was the way in the South Sea Islands. May it really be so with my dear
people!" Nor did he err in this view of the dispensation. All these
ends, and more also, were to be accomplished by it.
An anticipation like that which is expressed in this and other
letters, especially in his Pastoral Letter of _March 20_, may justly
be regarded as a proof from experience that the Lord teaches his
people to expect and pray for what He means soon to work. And here the
Lord accomplished his designs in the kindest of all ways; for He
removed his servant for a season from the flock to which he had been
so blessed, lest even his own children should begin to glory in man;
but yet He took that servant to another sphere of labor in the
meantime, and then, when the blessing was safely bestowed, brought him
back to rejoice over it.
He was still hoping for, and submissively asking from the Lord, speedy
restoration to his people in Dundee, and occasionally sending to them
an epistle that breathed the true pastor's soul; when one day, as he
was walking with Dr. Candlish, conversing on the Mission to Israel
which had lately been resolved on, an idea seemed suddenly suggested
to Dr. Candlish. He asked Mr. M'Cheyne what he would think of "being
useful to the Jewish cause, during his cessation from labor, by going
abroad to make personal inquiries into the state of Israel?" The idea
thus suddenly suggested led to all the after results of the Mission of
Inquiry. Mr. M'Cheyne found himself all at once called to carry
salvation to the Jew as he had hitherto done to the Gentile, and his
soul was filled with joy and wonder. His medical friends highly
approved of the proposal, as being likely to conduce very much to the
removal of his complaints,--the calm, steady excitement of such a
journey being likely to restore the tone of his whole constitution.
Dr. Black of Aberdeen readily consented to use his remarkable talents
as a scholar in this cause; and Dr. Keith intimated his expectation of
soon joining the deputation. I also had been chosen to go forth on
this mission of love to Israel; but some difficulties stood in the way
of my leaving my charge at Collace. In these circumstances Mr.
M'Cheyne wrote to me, _March 12_, from Edinburgh.
"MY DEAR _A._,--I have received so many tokens for good from God
in this matter, that it were a shame indeed if I did not trust
Him to perfect all which concerns me. I am glad you have
determined to trust all in the hands of Israel's God. I am quite
ready to go this week, or next week, but am deeply anxious to be
sure that you are sent with me. You know, dear A., I could not
labor in this cause, nor enjoy it, if you were not to be with me
in it. Would you be ready to give your Jewish lecture on the
evening of Sabbath week?... And now, pray for us, that we may be
sent of God; and, weak as we are, that we may be made
Boanerges,--that we may be blessed to win some souls, and to stir
up Christians to love Zion. Much interest is already excited, and
I do look for a blessing. Speak to your people as on the brink of
eternity.... As to books, I am quite at a loss. My Hebrew Bible,
Greek Testament, etc., and perhaps Bridge's _Christian Ministry_
for general purposes--I mean, for keeping us in mind of our
ministerial work. I do hope we shall go forth in the Spirit; and
though straitened in language, may we not be blessed, as Brainerd
was, through an interpreter? May we not be blessed also to save
some English, and to stir up missionaries? My health is only
tolerable; I would be better if we were once away. I am often so
troubled as to be made willing to go or stay, to die or to live.
Yet it is encouraging to be used in the Lord's service again, and
in so interesting a manner. What if we should see the heavenly
Jerusalem before the earthly? I am taking drawing materials, that
I may carry away remembrances of the Mount of Olives, Tabor, and
the Sea of Galilee."
The interest that this proposed journey excited in Scotland was very
great. Nor was it merely the somewhat romantic interest attached to
the land where the Lord had done most of his mighty works; there were
also in it the deeper feelings of a scriptural persuasion that Israel
was still "beloved for the fathers' sake." For some time previous,
Jerusalem had come into mind, and many godly pastors were alarming as
watchmen over its ruined walls (Isa. 62:6), stirring up the Lord's
remembrancers. Mr. M'Cheyne had been one of these. His views of the
importance of the Jews in the eye of God, and therefore of their
importance as a sphere of missionary labor, were very clear and
decided. He agreed in the expectation expressed in one of the Course
of Lectures delivered before the deputation set out, that we might
anticipate an _outpouring of the Spirit when our church should stretch
out its hands to the Jew as well as to the Gentile_. In one letter he
says, "To seek the lost sheep of the house of Israel is an object very
near to my heart, as my people know it has ever been. Such an
enterprise may probably draw down unspeakable blessings on the Church
of Scotland, according to the promise, 'They shall prosper who love
thee.'" In another, "I now see plainly that all our views about the
Jews being the chief object of missionary exertion are plain and sober
truths, according to the Scripture." Again, "I feel convinced that if
we pray that the world may be converted in God's way, we will seek the
good of the Jews; and the more we do so, the happier we will be in our
own soul. You should always keep up a knowledge of the prophecies
regarding Israel." In his preaching he not unfrequently said on this
subject, "We should be like God in his peculiar affections; and the
whole Bible shows that God has ever had, and still has, a peculiar
love to the Jews."
The news of his proposed absence alarmed his flock at Dundee. They
manifested their care for him more than ever; and not a few wrote
expostulatory letters. To one of these well-meant remonstrances he
replied, "I rejoice exceedingly in the interest you take in me, not so
much for my own sake as that I hope it is a sign you know and love the
Lord Jesus. Unless God had himself shut up the door of return to my
people, and opened this new door to me, I never could have consented
to go. I am not at all unwilling to spend and be spent in God's
service, though I have often found that the more abundantly I love
you, the less I am loved. But God has very plainly shown me that I may
perform a deeply important work for his ancient people, and at the
same time be in the best way of seeking a return of health."--"A
minister will make a poor saviour in the day of wrath. It is not
knowing a minister, or loving one, or hearing one, or having a name to
live, that will save. You need to have your hand on the head of the
Lamb for yourselves, Lev. 1:4. You need to have your eye on the brazen
serpent for yourselves, John 3:14, 15. I fear I will need to be a
swift witness against many of my people in the day of the Lord, that
they looked to me, and not to Christ, when I preached to them. I
always feared that some of you loved to hear the word, who do not love
to do it. I always feared there were many of you who loved the Sabbath
meetings, and the class, and the Thursday evenings, who yet were not
careful to walk with God, to be meek, chaste, holy, loving, harmless,
Christ-like, God-like. Now, God wants you to think that the only end
of a gospel ministry is that you may be holy. Believe me, God himself
could not make you happy except you be holy."
At this crisis in his people's history, he sought from the Lord one to
supply his place,--one who would feed the flock and gather in
wanderers during their own pastor's absence. The Lord granted him his
desire by sending Mr. William C. Burns, son of the minister of
Kilsyth. In a letter to him, dated _March 12_, the following
remarkable words occur: "You are given in answer to prayer; and these
gifts are, I believe, always without exception blessed. I hope you may
be a thousand times more blessed among them than ever I was. Perhaps
there are many souls that would never have been saved under my
ministry, who may be touched under yours; and God has taken this
method of bringing you into my place. _His name is Wonderful._"
This done, and being already disengaged from his flock, he set out
for London to make arrangements for the rest of the deputation, who
soon after were all sent forth by the brethren with many prayers. None
had more prayers offered in their behalf than he, and they were not
offered in vain. During all his journeyings the Lord strengthened him,
and saved him out of all distresses.
It was a singular event,--often still it looks like a dream,--that
four ministers should be so suddenly called away from their quiet
labors in the towns and villages of Scotland, and be found in a few
weeks traversing the land of Israel, with their Bibles in their hand,
eye-witnesses of prophecy fulfilled, and spies of the nakedness of
Israel's worship and leanness of soul. The details of that journey
need not be given here. They have been already recorded in the
_Narrative of a Mission of Inquiry to the Jews from the Church of
Scotland in 1839_. But there are some incidents worthy to be preserved
which could find a place only in such a record of private life and
feelings as we are now engaged in.
When Mr. M'Cheyne was on board the vessel that carried him to London,
he at once discovered an interesting young Jew, who seemed, however,
unwilling to be recognized as belonging to the seed of Abraham. He
made several attempts to draw this young Israelite into close
conversation; and before parting, read with him the 1st Psalm in
Hebrew, and pressed home the duty of meditating on the word of the
Lord. In visiting Bethnal Green, he has noted down that it was very
sweet to hear Jewish children sing a hymn to Jesus, the burden of
which was [Hebrew: tavuach aleinu], "Slain for us!"
The awful profanation of the holy Sabbath which we witnessed on the
streets of Paris, called forth the following appeal, in a letter to
Mr. Macdonald of Blairgowrie. His spirit had been stirred in him when
he saw the city wholly given to idolatry. "Stand in the breach, dear
friend, and lift up your voice like a trumpet, lest Scotland become
another France. You know how many in our own parishes trample on the
holy day. They do not know how sweet it is to walk with God all that
holy day. Isaiah 58:11-14 is a sweet text to preach from. Exodus 31:13
is also very precious, showing that the real sanctifying of the
Sabbath is one of God's signs or marks which He puts upon his people.
It is one of the letters of the new name, which no one knoweth but
they who receive it."
In his brief notes during the first part of the journey, he has
seldom failed to mark our seasons of united prayer, such as those in
the cabin of the vessel on the passage to Genoa; for these were times
of refreshing to his spirit. And his feelings, as he stood in that
city and surveyed its palaces, are expressed in a few lines, which he
sent homeward from the spot. "A foreign land draws us nearer God. He
is the only one whom we know here. We go to Him as to one we know; all
else is strange. Every step I take, and every new country I see, makes
me feel more that there is nothing real, nothing true, but what is
everlasting. The whole world lieth in wickedness! its judgments are
fast hastening. The marble palaces, among which I have been wandering
to-night, shall soon sink like a millstone in the waters of God's
righteous anger; but he that doeth the will of God abideth forever."
At Valetta, in the island of Malta, he wrote: "My heart beats a little
to-day, but another sail will do me good. One thing I know, that I am
in the hands of my Father in heaven, who is all love to me,--not for
what I am in myself, but for the beauty He sees in Immanuel."
The classic shores of Italy and Greece are invested with a peculiar
interest, such as may raise deep emotions even in a sanctified soul.
"We tried to recollect many of the studies of our boyhood. But what is
classic learning to us now? I count all things but loss for the
excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord. And yet these
recollections tinged every object, and afforded us a most lawful
pleasure."
During our voyage, it was his delight to search into the Scriptures,
just as at home. And so much did he calculate on an unceasing study of
the word during all our journey, that he took with him some notes I
had written on each chapter of the book of Leviticus, observing it
would be suitable meditation for us while busy with Jewish minds. At
home and abroad he had an insatiable appetite for all the word,--both
for the types of the Old Testament and the plain text of the New. On
one occasion, before leaving home, in studying Numbers 4., he fixed
the different duties assigned to the priests on his memory, by means
of the following lines:--
The _Kohathites_ upon their shoulder bear
The holy vessels, covered with all care,
The _Gershonites_ receive an easier charge,
Two waggons full of cords and curtains large;
_Merari's_ sons four ponderous waggons load
With boards and pillars of the house of God.
He acted on the principle, that whatever God has revealed must deserve
our study and prayerful investigation.
Arrived at Alexandria in Egypt, and thence proceeding onward to
Palestine by the way of the desert, we found ourselves set down on a
new stage of experience. Mr. M'Cheyne observed on the silence of the
desert places: "It is a remarkable feeling to be quite alone in a
desert place; it gives similar feelings to fasting; it brings God
near. Living in tents, and moving among such lonely scenes for many
days, awake many new ideas. It is a strange life we lead in the
wilderness. Round and round there is a complete circle of sand and
wilderness shrubs; above, a blue sky without a cloud, and a scorching
sun which often made the thermometer stand at 96° in our tents. When
evening came, the sun went down as it does in the ocean, and the stars
came riding forth in their glory; and we used to pitch all alone, with
none but our poor ignorant Bedouins, and their camels, and our
all-knowing, all-loving God beside us. When morning began to dawn, our
habitations were taken down. Often we have found ourselves shelterless
before being fully dressed. What a type of the tent of our body! Ah!
how often taken down before the soul is made meet for the inheritance
of the saints in light." To Mr. Bonar of Larbert he writes: "I had no
idea that travelling in the wilderness was so dreadful a thing as it
is. The loneliness I often felt quite solemnized me. The burning sun
overhead,--round and round a circle of barren sand, chequered only by
a few prickly shrubs ('the heat of the wilderness,' of which Jeremiah
speaks), no rain, not a cloud, the wells often like that of Marah, and
far between. I now understand well the murmurings of Israel. I feel
that our journey proved and tried my own heart very much." When we
look back, and remember that he who thus stands on the sandy desert
road between Egypt and Palestine, and looks on its singular scenery,
is one who but lately was to be found busy night and day in dealing
with the souls of men in the densely peopled streets of a town teeming
with population, we are led to wonder at the ways of the Lord. But is
it not a moment which may remind us that the God who sent Elijah to
the brook at Cherith is the same God still? and that the wise,
considerate, loving Master, who said, "Come into a desert place and
rest awhile," is as loving, considerate, and wise as He was then?
At Balteen, a small village in Egypt, I well remember the indignation
that fired his countenance, when our Arab attendants insisted on
travelling forward on the Sabbath-day, rather than continue sitting
under a few palm-trees, breathing a sultry, furnace-like atmosphere,
with nothing more than just such supply of food as sufficed. He could
not bear the thought of being deprived of the Sabbath rest; it was
needful for our souls as much in the wilderness as in the crowded
city; and if few glorify God in that desolate land, so much the more
were we called on to fill these solitudes with our songs of praise. It
was in this light he viewed our position; and when we had prevailed,
and were seated under the palms, he was excited to deep emotion,
though before quite unnerved by the heat, at the sight of a row of
poor wretched Egyptians who gathered round us. "Oh that I could speak
their language, and tell them of salvation!" was his impassioned wish.
An event occurred at that time in which the hand of God afterwards
appeared very plain, though it then seemed very dark to us. Dr. Black
fell from his camel in the midst of the sandy desert, and none of all
our company could conjecture what bearing on the object of our Mission
this sad occurrence could have. Is it a frown on our undertaking? or can
it really be a movement of his kind, guiding hand? We often spoke of it:
in our visit to Galilee we thought that we saw some purposes evolving;
but there was still something unexplained. Now, however, the reason
appears: even that event was of the Lord, in wise and kind design. But
for that fall, our fathers in the deputation would not have sailed up
the Danube on their way to Vienna, and Pesth would not have been
visited. This accident, which mainly disabled Dr. Black from undertaking
the after fatigue of exploring Galilee, was the occasion of directing
the steps of our two fathers to that station, where a severe stroke of
sickness was made the means of detaining Dr. Keith till they had learned
that there was an open door among the Jews. And there, accordingly it
has been that the Lord has poured down his Spirit on the Jews that have
come to our missionaries so remarkably, that no Jewish Mission seems
ever to have been blessed with deeper conversions. There is nothing but
truth in the remark made by one of our number: "Dr. Black's fall from
the camel was the first step towards Pesth." "Whoso is wise, and will
observe these things, even they shall understand the loving kindness of
the Lord," Psalm 107:42. Indeed, whether it was that we were prepared to
expect, and therefore were peculiarly ready to observe, or whether it
was really the case that the watchful eye of our Lord specially guided
us, certain it is that we thought we could perceive the whole course we
took signally marked by Providence. There were many prayers in Scotland
ascending up in our behalf, and the High Priest gave the answer by
shining upon our path. Mr. M'Cheyne has stated: "For much of our safety
I feel indebted to the prayers of my people, I mean the Christians among
them, who do not forget us. If the veil of the world's machinery were
lifted off, how much we would find is done in answer to the prayers of
God's children."
Many things lost somewhat of their importance in our view, when
examined amid the undistracted reflections of the long desert journey,
where for many days we had quiet, like the quiet of death, around us
all night long, and even during the bright day. It is the more
interesting on this very account, to know his feelings there on the
subject of the ministry. As his camel slowly bore him over the soft
sandy soil, much did he ruminate on the happy days when he was
permitted to use all his strength in preaching Jesus to dying men.
"Use your health while you have it, my dear friend and brother. Do not
cast away peculiar opportunities that may never come again. You know
not when your last Sabbath with your people may come. Speak for
eternity. Above all things, cultivate your own spirit. A word spoken
by you when your conscience is clear, and your heart full of God's
Spirit, is worth ten thousand words spoken in unbelief and sin. This
was my great fault in the ministry. Remember it is God, and not man,
that must have the glory. It is not much speaking, but much faith,
that is needed. Do not forget us. Do not forget the Saturday night
meeting, nor the Monday morning thanksgiving." Thus he wrote on his
way to a fellow-laborer in Scotland.
On our first Sabbath in the Holy Land, our tent had been pitched in
the vicinity of a colony of ants. It was in the tribe of Simeon we
were encamped; it was the scenery of the Promised Land we had around
us; and one of the similitudes of the blessed word was illustrated
within our view. He opened his Bible at Prov. 6:6-8, and, as he read,
noted--"I. _Consider her ways._ Most souls are lost for want of
consideration. II. _The ant has no guide, overseer, or ruler_; no
officer, no one to command or encourage her. How differently situated
is the child of God! III. _Provideth her meat in the summer, etc._
Some have thought that this teaches us to heap up money; but quite the
reverse. The ant lays up no store for the future. It is all for
present use. She is always busy summer and winter. The lesson is one
of constant diligence in the Lord's work."
Many a time in these days, when our attendants in the evening were
driving in the stakes of our tent and stretching its cords, he would
lie down on the ground under some tree that sheltered him from the
dew. Completely exhausted by the long day's ride, he would lie almost
speechless for half an hour; and then, when the palpitation of his
heart had a little abated, would propose that we two should pray
together. Often, too, did he say to me, when thus stretched on the
ground,--not impatiently, but very earnestly,--"Shall I ever preach to
my people again?" I was often reproved by his unabated attention to
personal holiness; for this care was never absent from his mind,
whether he was at home in his quiet chamber, or on the sea, or in the
desert. Holiness in him was manifested, not by efforts to perform
duty, but in a way so natural, that you recognized therein the easy
outflowing of the indwelling Spirit. The fountain springing up into
everlasting life (John 4:14) in his soul, welled forth its living
waters alike in the familiar scenes of his native Scotland, and under
the olive-tree of Palestine. Prayer and meditation on the word were
never forgotten; and a peace that the world could not give kept his
heart and mind. When we were detained a day at Gaza, in very
tantalizing circumstances, his remark was, "_Jehovah Jireh_; we are at
that mount again." It was sweet at any time to be with him, for both
nature and grace in him drew the very heart; but there were moments of
enjoyment in these regions of Palestine that drew every cord still
closer, and created unknown sympathies. Such was that evening when we
climbed Samson's Hill together. Sitting there, we read over the
references to the place in the word of God; and then he took out his
pencil and sketched the scene, as the sun was sinking in the west.
This done, we sang some verses of a psalm, appropriate to the spot,
offered up prayer, and, slowly descending, conversed of all we saw,
and of all that was brought to mind by the scenery around us, till we
reached our tent.
In approaching Jerusalem, we came up the Pass of Latroon. He writes:
"The last day's journey to Jerusalem was the finest I ever had in all
my life. For four hours we were ascending the rocky pass upon our
patient camels. It was like the finest of our Highland scenes, only
the trees and flowers, and the voice of the turtle, told us that it
was Immanuel's land." Riding along, he remarked, that to have seen the
plain of Judea and this mountain-pass, was enough to reward us for all
our fatigue; and then began to call up passages of the Old Testament
Scriptures which might seem to refer to such scenery as that before
us.
During our ten days at Jerusalem, there were few objects within reach
that we did not eagerly seek to visit. "We stood at the turning of the
road where Jesus came near and beheld the city and wept over it. And
if we had had more of the mind that was in Jesus, I think we should
have wept also." This was his remark in a letter homeward; and to Mr.
Bonar of Larbert he expressed his feelings in regard to the Mount of
Olives and its vicinity: "I remember the day when I saw you last, you
said that there were other discoveries to be made than those in the
physical world,--that there were sights to be seen in the spiritual
world, and depths to be penetrated of far greater importance. I have
often thought of the truth of your remark. But if there is a place on
earth where physical scenery can help us to discover divine things, I
think it is Mount Olivet. Gethsemane at your feet leads your soul to
meditate on Christ's love and determination to undergo divine wrath
for us. The cup was set before Him there, and there He said. 'Shall I
not drink it?' The spot where He wept makes you think of his divine
compassion, mingling with his human tenderness,--his awful justice,
that would not spare the city,--his superhuman love, that wept over
its coming misery! Turning the other way, and looking to the
south-east, you see Bethany, reminding you of his love to his
own,--that his name is love,--that in all our afflictions He is
afflicted,--that those who are in their graves shall one day come
forth at his command. A little farther down you see the Dead Sea,
stretching far among the mountains its still and sullen waters. This
deepens and solemnizes all, and makes you go away, saying, 'How shall
we escape, if we neglect so great salvation?'"
He wrote to another friend in Scotland, from Mount Zion, where we were
then dwelling:--
Mount Zion, _June 12, 1839._
"MY DEAR FRIEND,--Now that we are in the most wonderful spot in
all this world,--where Jesus lived and walked, and prayed and
died, and will come again,--I doubt not you will be anxious to
hear how we come on. I am thankful that ever He privileged us to
come to this land. I heard of my flock yesterday by a letter from
home,--the first I have received, dated 8th May.... We are living
in one of the missionaries' houses on Mount Zion. My window looks
out upon where the Temple was, the beautiful Mount of Olives
rising behind. The Lord that made heaven and earth, bless thee
out of Zion.--Yours," etc.
One evening, after our visit to Sychar, he referred to the Bible which
I had dropped into Jacob's Well. We were then resting from our journey
in our tents. Soon after he penned on a leaf of his note-book the
following fragment:--
My own loved Bible, must I part from thee,
Companion of my toils by land and sea;
Man of my counsels, soother of distress,
Guide of my steps through this world's wilderness
In darkest nights, a lantern to my feet;
In gladsome days, as dropping honey sweet.
When first I parted from my quiet home,
At thy command, for Israel's good to roam.
Thy gentle voice said, "For Jerusalem pray,
So shall Jehovah prosper all thy way."
When through the lonely wilderness we strayed,
Sighing in vain for palm-trees' cooling shade,
Thy words of comfort hushed each rising fear,
"The shadow of thy mighty Rock is near."
And when we pitched our tents on Judah's hills,
Or thoughtful mused beside Siloa's rills;
Whene'er we climbed Mount Olivet, to gaze
Upon the sea, where stood in ancient days
The heaven-struck Sodom--
Sweet record of the past, to faith's glad eyes,
Sweet promiser of glories yet to rise![14]
[14] It is a somewhat curious occurrence, that the remnants of
this Bible were found and drawn up from the bottom of the well,
in July 1843, by Dr. Wilson and his fellow-traveller, who
employed a Samaritan from Sychar to descend and examine the well.
At the foot of Carmel, during the seven days we were in quarantine
under the brow of the hill, we had time to recall many former scenes;
and in these circumstances he wrote the hymn, _The Fountain of
Siloam_.
Here, too, he had leisure to write home; and most graphically does he
describe our journey from Alexandria onward.
CARMEL, _June 26, 1839_
"MY DEAR FATHER, MOTHER, etc.--It is a long time since I have
been able to write to you,--this being the first time since
leaving Egypt that any one has appeared to carry letters for us.
I must therefore begin by telling you that, by the good hand of
our God upon me, I am in excellent health, and have been ever
since I wrote you last. Fatigues we have had many, and much
greater than I anticipated; hardships and dangers we have also
encountered, but God has brought us all safely through, and in
fully better condition than when we began. You must not imagine
that I have altogether lost the palpitation of my heart, for it
often visits me to humble and prove me; still I believe it is a
good deal better than it was, and its visits are not nearly so
frequent. I hope very much, that in a cold bracing climate, and
with less fatigue, I may perhaps not feel it at all. I was very
thankful to receive your letter, dated 8th May,--the first since
leaving home. I was delighted to hear of your health and safety,
and of the peaceful communion at St. Peter's. The public news was
alarming and humbling.[15] I suppose I had better begin at the
beginning, and go over all our journeyings from the land of Egypt
through the howling wilderness to this sweet land of promise. I
would have written _journalwise_ (as my mother would say) from
time to time, so that I might have had an interesting budget of
news ready; but you must remember it is a more fatiguing thing to
ride twelve or fourteen hours on a camel's back, in a sandy
wilderness, than in our home excursions; and I could often do
nothing more than lie down on my rug and fall asleep.
[15] He alludes here to the decision of the House of Lords in the
Auchterarder case.
"We left Alexandria on 16th May 1839, parting from many kind
friends in that strange city. We and our baggage were mounted on
seventeen donkeys, like the sons of Jacob, when they carried corn
out of Egypt. Our saddle was our bedding, viz. a rug to lie on, a
pillow for the head, and a quilt to wrap ourselves in. We
afterwards added a straw mat to put below all. We had procured
two tents,--one large, and a smaller one which Andrew and I
occupy. The donkeys are nice nimble little animals, going about
five miles an hour; a wild Arab accompanies each donkey. We have
our two Arab servants, to whom I now introduce you,--Ibrahim, a
handsome small-made Egyptian, and Achmet the cook, a dark
good-natured fellow, with a white turban and bare black legs.
Ibrahim speaks a little English and Italian, and Achmet Italian,
in addition to their native Arabic. I soon made friends with our
Arab donkey-men, learning Arabic words and phrases; from them,
which pleased them greatly. We journeyed by the Bay of Aboukir,
close by the sea, which tempered the air of the desert. At night
we reached Rosetta, a curious half-inhabited eastern town. We saw
an eastern marriage, which highly pleased us, illustrating the
parables. It was by torch-light. We slept in the convent. 17.
Spent morning in Rosetta; gave the monk a New Testament. Saw some
of Egyptian misery in the bazaar. Saw the people praying in the
mosque, Friday being the Moslem's day of devotion. In the evening
we crossed the Nile in small boats. It is a fine river; and its
water, when filtered, is sweet and pleasant. We often thought
upon it in the desert. We slept that night on the sand in our
tents, by the sea-shore. 18.--In six hours we came to Bourlos
(you will see it in the map of the Society for Diffusing Useful
Knowledge): were ferried across. Watched the fishermen casting
their nets into the sea: hot--hot. In two hours more through a
palmy wilderness, we came to Balteen,--'the Vale of Figs,' an
Arab village of mud huts. You little know what an Arab house is.
In general, in Egypt, it is an exact square box made of mud, with
a low hole for a door. The furniture is a mat and cooking things;
an oven made of mud. 19.--Spent our Sabbath unoccupied in midst
of the village; the poor Arabs have no Sabbath. The thermometer
84° in tent. The governor called in the evening, and drank a cup
of tea with great relish. The heat we felt much all day; still it
was sweet to rest and remember you all in the wilderness. 20.--At
twelve at night, left Balteen by beautiful moonlight. Proceeding
through a pleasant African wild of palms and brushwood, we
reached the sea in two hours, and rode along, its waves washing
our feet: very sleepy. We got a rest at mid-day, if rest it could
be called, under that scorching sun, which I never will forget.
Proceeding onward, at three o'clock we left the sea-shore, and
perceived the minarets of Damietta. Before us the mirage cheated
us often when we were very thirsty. We crossed the Nile again, a
much smaller branch,--the only remaining one,--and soon found
ourselves comfortably reclining on the divan of the British
Consul, an Egyptian gentleman of some fortune and manners. He
entertained us at supper in true Egyptian style; provided a room
for us, where we spread our mats in peace. We spent the whole of
the next day here, having sent off a Bedouin to have camels ready
for us at San. The Consul entertained us in the same Egyptian
style of hospitality, and sent us away the next day on board of a
barge upon Lake Menzaleh. 22.--Even E---- would not have been
afraid to sail upon the lake. It is nowhere more than ten feet
deep, and in general only four or five. We made an awning with
our mats, and spent a very happy day. At evening we entered a
canal among immense reeds. In moonlight the scene was truly
romantic; we slept moored to the shore all night. Next morning
(23) we reached San about ten. This evening and next morning we
spent in exploring the ruins of the ancient Zoan, for this we
find is the very spot.
"Wandering alone, we were quite surprised to find great mounds of
brick, and pottery, and vitrified stones. Andrew at last came
upon beautiful obelisks. Next morning we examined all carefully,
and found two sphinxes and many Egyptian obelisks. How wonderful
to be treading over the ruins of the ancient capital of Egypt!
Isaiah 19:12. 'Where are the princes of Zoan?' Ezek. 30:14, 'God
has set fire in Zoan.' This is the very place where Joseph was
sold as a slave, and where Moses did his wonders, Psalm 78:43.
This was almost the only place where we have been in danger from
the inhabitants. They are a wild race; and our Arabs were afraid
of them. You would have been afraid too, if you had seen, out of
the door of our tent, our Bedouins keeping watch all night with
their naked sabres gleaming in the moonlight, firing off their
guns now and then, and keeping up a low chaunt to keep one
another awake. No evil happened to us, and we feel that many pray
for us, and that God is with us. 24.--This day our journeyings on
camels commenced and continued till we came to Jerusalem. It is a
strange mode of conveyance. You have seen a camel kneeling; it is
in this condition that you mount; suddenly it rises first on its
fore feet, and then on its hind feet. It requires great skill to
hold yourself on during this operation; one time I was thrown
fair over its head, but quite unhurt. When you find yourself
exalted on the hunch of a camel, it is somwhat of the feeling of
an aeronaut, as if you were bidding farewell to sublunary things;
but when he begins to move, with solemn pace and slow, you are
reminded of your terrestrial origin, and that a wrong balance or
turn to the side will soon bring you down from your giddy height.
You have no stirrup, and generally only your bed for your saddle;
you may either sit as on horseback, or as on a sidesaddle,--the
latter is the pleasanter, though not the safer of the two. The
camel goes about three miles an hour, and the step is so long
that the motion is quite peculiar. You bend your head toward your
knees every step. With a vertical sun above and a burning sand
below, you may believe it is a very fatiguing mode of journeying.
However, we thought of Rebecca and Abraham's servant (Gen. 24.),
and listened with delight to the wild Bedouin's plaintive song.
That night (24) we slept at Menagie, a Bedouin mud village:
palm-trees and three wells, and an ocean of sand, formed the only
objects of interest. 25.--Up by sunrise, and proceeded as before.
The only event this day was Dr. Black's fall from his camel,
which greatly alarmed us. He had fallen asleep, which you are
very apt to do. We encamped and used every restorative, so that
we were able to proceed the same evening to Gonatre, a miserable
Arab post, having a governor. Not a tree. 26.--The Sabbath dawned
sweetly; thermometer 92° in tent; could only lie on the mat and
read psalms. Evening.--Gathered governor and Bedouins to hear
some words of eternal life, Ibrahim interpreting. 27.--Two very
long stages brought us to Katieh; thankful to God for his
goodness, while we pitched by the date-trees. 28.--Spent the day
at Katieh; interesting interviews with governor, a kind Arab;
thermometer 96° in tent. Same evening, proceeded through a
greener desert, among flocks of goats and sheep, and encamped by
a well, Bir-el-Abd. 29.--Another hot day in the desert; came in
sight of the sea, which gave us a refreshing breeze; bathed in
the salt lake, as hot as a warm bath. Evening.--Encampment at
Abugilbany. 30.--This was our last day in the Egyptian
wilderness. We entered on a much more mountainous region. The
heat very great; we literally panted for a breath of wind. The
Bedouins begged handkerchiefs to cover their heads, and often
cast themselves under a bush for shade. Towards sunset, we came
down on the old ruins of Rhinoculura, now buried in the sand; and
soon after our camels kneeled down at the gates of El Arish, the
last town on the Egyptian frontier. 31.--We spent in El Arish,
being unable to get fresh camels. We bought a sheep for five
shillings; drank freely of their delightful water,--what a
blessing after the desert! Found out the river of Egypt, the
boundary of Judah mentioned in the Bible, quite dry. _June
1._--Visited the school,--a curiosity: all the children sit
cross-legged on the floor, rocking to and fro, repeating
something in Arabic. We had a curious interview with the
governor, sitting in the gate in the ancient manner. We are quite
expert now at taking off our shoes and sitting in the Eastern
mode. Smoking, and coffee in very small cups, are the constant
accompaniments of these visits. Left the same evening, and did
not reach Sheikh Juidhe, in the land of the Philistines, till the
sun was nearly bursting into view. 2.--Spent a happy Sabbath
here; sung 'In Judah's land God is well known.' Singing praises
in our tents is very sweet, they are so frail, like our mortal
bodies; they rise easily into the ears of our present Father. Our
journey through the land of the Philistines was truly pleasant.
3.--We went through a fine pasture country; immense straths;
flocks of sheep and goats, and asses and camels, often came in
sight. This is the very way up out of Egypt, little changed from
the day that the Ethiopian went on his way rejoicing, and Joseph
and Mary carried down the babe from the anger of Herod. Little
changed, did I say? it is all changed; no more is there one brook
of water. Every river of Egypt,--Wady Gaza, Eshcol, Sorek,--every
brook we crossed, was dried up; not a drop of water. The land is
changed; no more is it the rich land of Philistia. The sand
struggles with the grass for mastery. The cities are
changed,--where are they? The people are changed: no more the
bold Philistines,--no more the children of Simeon,--no more Isaac
and his herdsmen,--no more David and his horsemen; but miserable
Arab shepherds,--simple people, without ideas,--poor degraded,
fearful. Khanounes was the first town we entered: Scripture name
unknown. The burying-ground outside the town. The well, and
people coming to draw, were objects of great interest to us. The
people were highly entertained with us in return. We sat down in
the bazaar, and were a spectacle to all. How much we longed to
have the Arabic tongue, that we might preach the unsearchable
riches of Christ in God's own land! Same evening we heard the cry
of the wolf, and encamped two miles from Gaza. The plague was
raging, so we did not enter, but spent a delightful day in
comparing its condition with God's word concerning it: 'Baldness
is come upon Gaza.' The old city is buried under sand-hills,
without a blade of grass, so that it is bald indeed. The herds
and flocks are innumerable, fulfilling Zeph. 2; Andrew and I
climbed the hill up which Samson carried the gates. 5.--Passed
through a fine olive grove for many miles, and entered the vale
of Eshcol. The people were all in the fields cutting and bringing
in their barley. They reap with the hook as we do. They seem to
carry in at the same time upon camels. No vines in Eshcol now, no
pomegranates, but some green fig-trees. Crossed the brook
Sorek--dry. Spent the mid-day under the embowering shade of a
fig-tree; tasted the apricots of the good land. Same evening we
came to Doulis, which we take to be Eshtaol, where Samson was
born. 6.--We went due east, and, after a mountain pass, saw the
hills of Judah,--an immense plain intervening, all studded with
little towns. From their names, we found out many Bible spots.
This valley or plain is the very vale Zephatha, of which you read
in II Chron. 14., 'In the plain of Sephela.' Before night we
entered among the hills of Judah,--very like our own
Highlands,--and slept all night among the mountains, at a
deserted village called Latroon. 7.--One of the most privileged
days of our life. We broke up our tents by moonlight; soon the
sun was up; we entered a defile of the most romantic character;
wild rocks and verdant hills; wild-flowers of every color and
fragrance scented our path. Sometimes we came upon a clump of
beautiful olive-trees, then wild again. The turtle's voice was
heard in the land, and singing birds of sweetest note. Our camels
carried us up this pass for four hours; and our turbaned Bedouins
added by their strange figures to the scene. The terracing of all
the hills is the most remarkable feature of Judean scenery. Every
foot of the rockiest mountains may in this way be covered with
vines. We thought of Isaiah wandering here, and David and
Solomon. Still all was wilderness. The hand of man had been
actively employed upon every mountain, but where were these
laborers now? Judah is gone into captivity before the enemy.
There are few men left in the land; not a vine is there. 'The
vine languisheth.' We came down upon Garieh, a village embosomed
in figs and pomegranates. Ascending again, we came down into the
valley of Elah, where David slew Goliath. Another long and steep
ascent of a most rugged hill brought us into a strange scene--a
desert of sunburnt rocks. I had read of this, and knew that
Jerusalem was near. I left my camel and went before, hurrying
over the burning rocks. In about half an hour Jerusalem came in
sight. 'How doth the city sit solitary that was full of people!'
Is this the perfection of beauty? 'How hath the Lord covered the
daughter of Zion with a cloud in his anger!' It is, indeed, very
desolate. Read the two first chapters of Lamentations, and you
have a vivid picture of our first sight of Jerusalem. We lighted
off our camels within the Jaffa gate. Among those that crowded
round us, we observed several Jews. I think I had better not
attempt to tell you about Jerusalem. There is so much to
describe, and I know not where to begin. The Consul, Mr. Young,
received us most kindly, provided us a house where we might
spread our mats, and helped us in every way. Mr. Nicolayson
called the same evening, and insisted on our occupying one of the
mission-houses on Mount Zion. The plague is still in Jerusalem,
so that we must keep ourselves in quarantine. The plague only
communicates by contact, so that we are not allowed to touch any
one, or let any one touch us. Every night we heard the mourners
going about the streets with their dismal wailings for the dead.
On Sabbath Mr. Nicolayson read the prayers, and Dr. Black
preached from Isaiah 2:2. Dr. Keith in the evening. Three
converted Jews were among the hearers. On Monday (10) we visited
the sepulchre, and a painful sight, where we can find no traces
of Calvary. Same evening rode up to the Mount of Olives: past
Gethsemane, a most touching spot. Visited Sir Moses Montefiore, a
Jew of London, encamped on Mount Olivet; very kind to us.
11.--Went round the most of the places to be visited near
Jerusalem,--Rephaim, Gihon, Siloa's brook, 'that flowed fast by
the oracle of God;' the Pool of Siloam; the place where Jesus
wept over the city; Bethany,--of all places my favorite; the
tombs of the kings. Such a day we never spent in this world
before. The climate is truly delightful,--hot at mid-day, but
delightful breezes at morn and even. 12.--A business day, getting
information about Jews. In the evening, walked to Aceldama,--a
dreadful spot. Zion is ploughed like a field. I gathered some
barley, and noticed cauliflowers planted in rows. See Micah 3:12.
Jerusalem is indeed heaps. The quantities of rubbish would amaze
you,--in one place higher than the walls. 13.--We went to Hebron,
twenty miles south; Mr. Nicolayson, his son, the Consul and
ladies accompanying us, all on mules and horses, Judah's cities
are all waste. Except Bethlehem, we saw none but ruins till we
reached Hebron. The vines are beautifully cultivated here, and
make it a paradise; The hills all terraced to the top. We spent a
delightful evening and all next day. We met the Jews, and had an
interesting interview with them. We read Genesis 18, and many
other Bible passages, with great joy. Saw the mosque where the
tomb of Abraham and Sarah is. 14.--Returned by Bethlehem to
Jerusalem. Bethlehem is a sweet village, placed on the top of a
rocky hill,--very white and dazzling. You see it on both sides of
the hill. At Rachel's sepulchre you see Jerusalem on one hand and
Bethlehem on the other,--an interesting sight,--six miles apart.
On Sabbath we enjoyed the Lord's Supper in an upper chamber in
Jerusalem. It was a time much to be remembered. Andrew preached
in the evening from John 14:2, 3. 17.--The plague has been
increasing so that we think it better to depart. Last visit to
Gethsemane, and Bethany, and Siloam. Evening.--Took farewell of
all our friends at Jerusalem, with much sorrow you may believe.
Went due north to Ramah, by Gibeon, and slept at Beer, again in
our tent, in Benjamin. 19.--Passed Bethel, where Jacob slept.
Passed through the rich and rocky defile of Ephraim, by Lebonah,
to Sychar. You cannot believe what a delightsome land it is. We
sought anxiously for the well where Jesus sat. Andrew alone found
it, and lost his Bible in it. 20.--Had a most interesting morning
with the Jews of Sychar. Saw many of them; also the Samaritans in
their synagogue. Same evening visited Samaria,--a wonderful
place,--and encamped at Sanor. 21.--Arrived at Carmel, where we
now are, encamped within two yards of the sea. We have been in
quarantine here seven days, as there is no plague north of this.
Several English are encamped here--Lord R., Lord H., etc. We have
daily conversations sitting on the sand. We are not allowed to
touch even the rope of a tent. Acre is in sight across the bay.
We have delightful bathing. To-morrow Lord H. leaves, and kindly
offers to take this. Carmel's rocky brow is over us. We are all
well and happy. On Monday we propose leaving for Tiberias and
Saphet. Soon we shall be in Beyrout, and on our way to Smyrna. Do
not be anxious for me. Trust us to God, who goes with us where we
go. I only pray that our mission may be blessed to Israel. Sir
Moses M. has arrived, and pitched his tent within fifty yards of
us. Kindest regards to all that inquire after me, not forgetting
dear W.--Your affectionate son," etc.
When the two elder brethren of the deputation left us for Europe, we
turned southward again from Beyrout, to visit the regions of
Phoenicia and Galilee. Never did Mr. M'Cheyne seem more gladsome
than in gazing on these regions.
At Tyre, he remembered the request of an elder in the parish of
Larbert, who had written to him before his departure, stating what he
considered to be a difficulty in the ordinary expositions of the
prophecies which speak of that renowned city. With great delight he
examined the difficulty on the spot; and it is believed that his
testimony on such points as these, when it reached some men of
sceptical views in that scene of his early labors, was not unblest.
From Saphet he writes: "I sat looking down upon the lake this morning
for about an hour. It was just at our feet,--the very water where
Jesus walked, where He called his disciples, where He rebuked the
storm, where He said, 'Children, have ye any meat?' after He rose from
the dead. Jesus is the same still." To his early and familiar friend,
Mr. Somerville, he thus describes the same view: "Oh what a view of
the Sea of Galilee is before you, at your feet! It is above three
hours' descent to the water's edge, and yet it looks as if you could
run down in as many minutes. The lake is much larger than I had
imagined. It is hemmed in by mountains on every side, sleeping as
calmly and softly as if it had been the sea of glass which John saw in
heaven. We tried in vain to follow the course of the Jordan running
through it. True, there were clear lines, such as you see in the wake
of a vessel, but then these did not go straight through the lake. The
hills of Bashan are very high and steep, where they run into the lake.
At one point, a man pointed out to us where the tombs in the rocks
are, where the demoniacs used to live: and near it the hills were
exactly what the Scriptures describe, 'a steep place,' where the swine
ran down into the sea. On the north-east of the sea, Hermon rises very
grand, intersected with many ravines full of snow."
The day we spent at the lake--at the very water-side--was ever
memorable, it was so peculiarly sweet! We left an indescribable
interest even in lifting a shell from the shore of a sea where Jesus
had so often walked. It was here that two of the beautiful hymns in
_The Songs of Zion_ were suggested to him. The one was, _How pleasant
to me_, etc.; the other, _To yonder side_; but the latter lay beside
him unfinished till a later period.
His complaint was now considerably abated; his strength seemed
returning: and often did he long to be among his people again, though
quieting his soul upon the Lord. Not a few pastors of another church
have from time to time come forth to this land, compelled by disease
to seek for health in foreign regions; but how rarely do we find the
pastor's heart retained,--how rarely do we discover that the shepherd
yearns still over the flock he left! But so deep was Mr. M'Cheyne's
feelings toward the flock over which the Holy Ghost had made him
overseer, that his concern for them became a temptation to his soul.
It was not in the mere desire to preach again that he manifested this
concern; for this desire might have been selfish, as he said: "No
doubt there is pride in this anxiety to preach; a submissive soul
would rejoice only in doing the present will of God." But his prayers
for them went up daily to the throne. We had precious seasons of
united prayer also for that same end,--especially one morning at
sunrise in Gethsemane, and another morning at Carmel, where we joined
in supplication on the silent shore at the foot of the hill as soon as
day dawned, and then again, at evening, on the top, where Elijah
prayed.
Distance of place of peculiarities of circumstance never altered his
views of duty, nor changed his feelings as a minister of Christ. In
Galilee he meditated upon the aspect of ecclesiastical affairs in our
beloved Scotland; and the principles he had maintained appeared to him
as plainly accordant with the word of God when tried there, apart from
excitement, as they did when he reviewed them in connection with their
effects at home. "I hope," were his words to a brother in the
ministry, "I hope the church has been well guided and blessed; and if
times of difficulty are to come, I do believe there is no position so
proper for her to be in as the attitude of a missionary church, giving
freely to Jew and Gentile, as she has freely received,--so may she be
found when the Lord comes."
At the foot of Lebanon, in the town of Beyrout, he was able to expound
a chapter (Acts 10.) at a prayer-meeting of the American brethren.
This quite rejoiced his heart; for it seemed as if the Lord were
restoring him, and meant again to use him in preaching the glad
tidings. But shortly after, during the oppressive heat of the
afternoon, he felt himself unwell. He had paid a visit to a young man
from Glasgow in the town, who was ill of fever; and it is not unlikely
that this visit, at a time when he was in a state of debility from
previous fatigue, was the immediate occasion of his own illness. He
was very soon prostrated under the fever. But his medical attendant
apprehended no danger, and advised him to proceed to Smyrna, in the
belief that the cool air of the sea would be much more in his favor
than the sultry heat of Beyrout. Accordingly, in company with our
faithful Hebrew friend Erasmus Calman, we embarked; but as we lay off
Cyprus, the fever increased to such a height, that he lost his memory
for some hours, and was racked with excessive pain in his head. When
the vessel sailed, he revived considerably, but during three days no
medical aid could be obtained. He scarcely ever spoke; and only once
did he for a moment, on a Saturday night, lift his languid eye, as he
lay on deck enjoying the breeze, to catch a distant sight of Patmos.
We watched him with agonizing anxiety till we reached Smyrna and the
village of Bouja. Though three miles off, yet, for the sake of medical
aid, he rode to this village upon a mule after sunset, ready to drop
every moment with pain and burning fever. But here the Lord had
prepared for him the best and kindest help. The tender and parental
care of Mr. and Mrs. Lewis, in whose house he found a home, was never
mentioned by him but with deepest gratitude; and the sight of the
flowering jessamine, or the mention of the deep-green cypress, would
invariably call up in his mind associations of Bouja and its inmates.
He used to say it was his second birth-place.
During that time, like most of God's people who have been in sickness,
he felt that a single passage of the word of God was more truly food
to his fainting soul than anything besides. One day his spirit
revived, and his eye glistened, when I spoke of the Saviour's
sympathy, adducing as the very words of Jesus, Psalm 41:1: "_Blessed
is he that considereth the poor: the Lord will deliver him in time of
trouble,_" etc. It seemed so applicable to his own case, as a minister
of the glad tidings; for often had he "considered the poor," carrying
a cup of cold water to a disciple. Another passage, written for the
children of God in their distress, was spoken to him when he seemed
nearly insensible: "_Call upon me in the day of trouble._" This word
of God was as the drop of honey to Jonathan.
He himself thus spoke of his illness to his friends at home: "I left
the foot of Lebanon when I could hardly see, or hear, or speak, or
remember; I felt my faculties going, one by one, and I had every
reason to expect that I would soon be with my God. It is a sore trial
to be alone and dying in a foreign land, and it has made me feel, in a
way that I never knew before, the necessity of having unfeigned faith
in Jesus and in God. Sentiments, natural feelings, glowing fancies of
divine things, will not support the soul in such an hour. There is
much self-delusion in our estimation of ourselves when we are untried,
and in the midst of Christian friends, whose warm feelings give a
glow to ours, which they do not possess in themselves." Even then he
had his people in his heart. "When I got better, I used to creep out
in the evenings about sunset. I often remembered you all then. I could
not write, as my eyes and head were much affected; I could read but
very little; I could speak very little, for I had hardly any voice;
and so I had all my time to lay my people before God, and pray for a
blessing on them. About the last evening I was there, we all went to
the vintage, and I joined in gathering the grapes." To Mr. Somerville
he wrote: "My mind was very weak when I was at the worst, and
therefore the things of eternity were often dim. _I had no fear to
die, for Christ had died._ Still I prayed for recovery, if it was the
Lord's will. You remember you told me to be humble among your last
advices. You see God is teaching me the same thing. I fear I am not
thoroughly humbled. I feel the pride of my heart, and bewail it." To
his kind medical friend, Dr. Gibson, in Dundee, he wrote: "I really
believed that my Master had called me home, and that I would sleep
beneath the dark-green cypresses of Bouja till the Lord shall come,
and they that sleep in Jesus come with Him; and my most earnest prayer
was for my dear flock, that God would give them a pastor after his own
heart."
When we met, after an eight days' separation, on board the vessel at
Constantinople, he mentioned as one of the most interesting incidents
of the week, that one evening, while walking with Mr. Lewis, they met
a young Greek and his wife, both of whom were believed to be really
converted souls. It created a thrill in his bosom to meet with these
almost solitary representatives of the once faithful and much tried
native church of Smyrna.
Meanwhile there were movements at home that proved the Lord to be He
who "alone doeth wondrous things." The cry of his servant in Asia was
not forgotten; the eye of the Lord turned towards his people. It was
during the time of Mr. M'Cheyne's sore sickness that his flock in
Dundee were receiving blessing from the opened windows of heaven.
Their pastor was lying at the gate of death, in utter helplessness.
But the Lord had done this on very purpose; for He meant to show that
He needed not the help of any: He could send forth new laborers, and
work by new instruments, when it pleased Him. We little knew that
during the days when we were waiting at the foot of Lebanon for a
vessel to carry us to Smyrna, the arm of the Lord had begun to be
revealed in Scotland. On the 23d of July the great Revival at Kilsyth
took place.
Mr. W.C. Burns, the same who was supplying Mr. M'Cheyne's place in his
absence, was on that day preaching to his father's flock; and while
pressing upon them immediate acceptance of Christ with deep solemnity,
the whole of the vast assembly were overpowered. The Holy Spirit
seemed to come down as a rushing mighty wind, and to fill the place.
Very many were that day struck to the heart; the sanctuary was filled
with distressed and inquiring souls. All Scotland heard the glad news
that the sky was no longer as brass,--that the rain had begun to fall.
The Spirit in mighty power began to work from that day forward in many
places of the land.
Mr. Burns returned to Mr. M'Cheyne's flock on August 8th,--one of the
days when Mr. M'Cheyne was stretched on his bed, praying for his
people under all his own suffering. The news of the work at Kilsyth
had produced a deep impression in Dundee; and two days after, the
Spirit began to work in St. Peter's, at the time of the prayer-meeting
in the church, in a way similar to Kilsyth. Day after day the people
met for prayer and hearing the word; and the times of the apostles
seemed returned, when "the Lord added to the church daily of such as
should be saved." All this time, Mr. M'Cheyne knew not how gracious
the Lord had been in giving him his heart's desire. It was not till we
were within sight of home that the glad news of these Revivals reached
our ears. But he continued, like Epaphras, "laboring fervently in
prayer," and sought daily to prepare himself for a more efficient
discharge of his office, should the Lord restore him to it again. He
sends home this message to a fellow-laborer: "Do not forget to carry
on the work in hearts brought to a Saviour. I feel this was one of my
faults in the ministry. Nourish babes; comfort downcast believers;
counsel those perplexed; perfect that which is lacking in their faith.
Prepare them for sore trials. I fear most Christians are quite unready
for days of darkness."--(_Mr. Moody Stuart_.)
Our journey led us through Moldavia, Wallachia, and Austria,--lands
of darkness and of the shadow of death. Profound strangers to the
truth as it is in Jesus, the people of these lands, nevertheless,
profess to be Christians. Superstition and its idolatries veil the
glorious object of faith from every eye. In these regions, as well as
in those already traversed. Mr. M'Cheyne's anxiety for souls appeared
in the efforts he made to leave at least a few words of Scripture with
the Jews whom we met, however short the time of our interview. His
spirit was stirred in him; and, with his Hebrew Bible in his hand, he
would walk up thoughtfully and solemnly to the first Jew he could get
access to, and begin by calling the man's attention to some statement
of God's word. In Palestine, if the Jew did not understand Italian, he
would repeat to him such texts in Hebrew as, "In that day there shall
be a fountain opened to the house of David," etc. (Zech. 13:1.) And
one evening, at the well of Doulis, when the Arab population were all
clustered round the water troughs, he looked on very wistfully, and
said, "If only we had Arabic, we might sow beside all waters!"
At Jassy, after a deeply interesting day, spent in conversation with
Jews who came to the inn, he said, "I will remember the faces of those
men at the judgment-seat." When he came among the more educated Jews
of Europe, he rejoiced to find that they could converse with him in
Latin. His heart was bent on doing what he could (Mark 14:8), in
season and out of season. "One thing," he writes, "I am deeply
convinced of, that God can make the simplest statement of the gospel
effectual to save souls. If only it be the true gospel, the good
tidings, the message that God loved the world, and provided a ransom
free to all, then God is able to make it wound the heart, and heal it
too. There is deep meaning in the words of Paul, 'I am not ashamed of
the gospel of Christ.'"
The abominations of Popery witnessed in Austrian Poland, called forth
many a prayer for the destruction of the Man of Sin. "The images and
idols by the wayside are actually frightful, stamping the whole land
as a kingdom of darkness. I do believe that a journey through Austria
would go far to cure some of the Popery-admirers of our beloved land."
He adds: "These are the marks of the beast upon this land." And in
like manner our privileges in Scotland used to appear to him the more
precious, when, as at Brody, we heard of Protestants who were supplied
with sermon only once a year. "I must tell this to my people," said
he, "when I return, to make them prize their many seasons of grace."
He estimated the importance of a town or country by its relation to
the house of Israel; and his yearnings over these lost sheep resembled
his bowels of compassion for his flock at home. At Tarnapol, in
Galicia, he wrote home: "We are in Tarnapol, a very nice clean town,
prettily situated on a winding stream, with wooded hills around. I
suppose you never heard its name before; neither did I till we were
there among Jews. I know not whether it has been the birth-place of
warriors, or poets, or orators; its flowers have hitherto been born to
blush unseen, at least by us barbarians of the north; but if God
revive the dry bones of Israel that are scattered over the world,
there will arise from this place an exceeding great army."
Our friend and brother in the faith, Erasmus Calman, lightened the
tediousness of a long day's journey by repeating to us some Hebrew
poetry. One piece was on Israel's present state of degradation; it
began--
[Hebrew:
tsuri goali
maheir v'chish p'dut ]
As the vehicle drove along, we translated it line by line, and soon
after Mr. M'Cheyne put it into verse. The following lines are a
part:--
Rock and Refuge of my soul,
Swiftly let the season roll,
When thine Israel shall arise
Lovely in the nations' eyes!
Lord of glory, Lord of might,
As our ransomed fathers tell;
Once more for thy people fight,
Plead for thy loved Israel.
Give our spoilers' towers to be
Waste and desolate as we.
Hasten, Lord, the joyful year,
When thy Zion, tempest-tossed,
Shall the silver trumpet hear:
Bring glad tidings to the lost!
Captive, cast thy cords from thee,
Loose thy neck--be free--be free!
Why dost Thou behold our sadness?
See the proud have torn away
All our years of solemn gladness,
When thy flock kept holy-day!
Lord, thy fruitful vine is bare,
Not one gleaning grape is there!
Rock and Refuge of my soul,
Swiftly let the season roll,
When thine Israel shall be,
Once again, beloved and free.
In his notes, he has one or two subjects marked for hymns. One of
these is--Isaiah 2:3--"Come ye," etc., _a loving call to the Jews_.
Another is to the same effect--Isaiah 1:15--"Come, let us reason
together." But these he never completed. In Cracow, having heard of
the death of a friend, the wife of an English clergyman, in the midst
of her days and in the full promise of usefulness, he began to pen a
few sweet lines of comfort:
Oft as she taught the little maids of France
To leave the garland, castanet, and dance,
And listen to the words which she would say
About the crowns that never fade away,
A new expression kindled in her eye,
A holy brightness, borrowed from the sky.
And when returning to her native land,
She bowed beneath a Father's chast'ning hand,
When the quick pulse and flush upon the cheek,
A touching warning to her friends would speak,
A holy cheerfulness yet filled her eye,
Willing she was to live, willing to die.
As the good Shunammite (the Scriptures tell),
When her son died, said meekly, "It is well,"
So when Sophia lost her infant boy,
And felt how dear-bought is a mother's joy,
When with green turf the little grave she spread,
"Not lost, but gone before," she meekly said.
And now they sleep together 'neath the willow
The same dew drops upon their silent pillow.
Return, O mourner, from this double grave,
And praise the God who all her graces gave.
Follow her faith, and let her mantle be
A cloak of holy zeal to cover thee.
The danger which he incurred from the shepherds in this region, and
other similar perils to which he was exposed in company with others,
have been recorded in the _Narrative_. Out of them all the Lord
delivered him; and not from these perils only did He save him, but
from many severe trials to his health, to which variety of climate and
discomforts of accommodation subjected him. And now we were
traversing Prussia, drawing nearer our own land. It was about five
months since we had received letters from Scotland, our route having
led us away from places which we had anticipated visiting, and where
communications had been left for us. We pressed homeward somewhat
anxiously, yet wondering often at past mercies. In a letter from
Berlin, Mr. M'Cheyne remarked, "Our heavenly Father has brought us
through so many trials and dangers that I feel persuaded He will yet
carry us to the end. Like John, we shall fulfil our course. 'Are there
not twelve hours in the day?' Are we not all immortal till our work is
done?" His strength was rapidly increasing; the journey had answered
the ends anticipated to a great extent, in his restoration to health.
He was able to preach at Hamburgh to the English congregation of Mr.
Rheder, from whom it was that the first hint of a Revival in Dundee
reached his ears. He heard just so much both of Kilsyth and Dundee as
to make him long to hear more. A few days after, on board the vessel
that conveyed us to England, he thus expressed his feelings:--
"Sailing up the Thames, _Nov. 6, 1839._
"MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER,--You will be glad to see by the date
that we are once more in sight of the shores of happy England. I
only wish I knew how you all are. I have not heard of you since I
was in Smyrna. In vain did I inquire for letters from you at
Cracow, Berlin, and Hamburgh. You must have written to Warsaw,
and the Resident there has not returned them to Berlin, as we
desired. Andrew and I and Mr. Calman are all quite well, and
thankful to God, who has brought us through every danger in so
many countries. I trust our course has not been altogether
fruitless, and that we may now resign our commission with some
hope of good issuing from it to the church and to Israel. I
preached last Sabbath in Hamburgh, for the first time since
leaving England, and felt nothing the worse of it; so that I do
hope it is my heavenly Father's will to restore me to usefulness
again among my beloved flock. We have heard something of a
reviving work at Kilsyth. We saw it noticed in one of the
newspapers. I also saw the name of Dundee associated with it; so
that I earnestly hope good has been doing in our church, and the
dew from on high watering our parishes, and that the flocks
whose pastors have been wandering may also have shared in the
blessing. We are quite ignorant of the facts, and you may believe
we are anxious to hear.... We are now passing Woolwich, and in an
hour will be in London. We are anxious to be home, but I suppose
will not get away till next week. I never thought to have seen
you again in this world, but now I hope to meet you once more in
peace.--Believe me, your affectionate son," etc.
The day we arrived on the shores of our own land was indeed a singular
day. We were intensely anxious to hear of events that had occurred at
home a few months before,--the outpouring of the Spirit from on
high,--while our friends were intensely interested in hearing tidings
of the land of Israel and the scattered tribes. The reception of
deputation on their return, and the fruits of their mission, are well
known, and have been elsewhere recorded.
Mr. M'Cheyne listened with deepest interest to the accounts given of
what had taken place in Dundee during the month of August, when he lay
at the gates of death in Bouja. The Lord had indeed fulfilled his
hopes, and answered his prayers. His assistant, Mr. Burns, had been
honored of God to open the floodgate at Dundee as well as at Kilsyth.
For some time before, Mr. Burns had seen symptoms of deeper attention
than usual, and of real anxiety in some that had hitherto been
careless. But it was after his return from Kilsyth that the people
began to melt before the Lord. On Thursday, the second day after his
return, at the close of the usual evening prayer-meeting in St.
Peter's, and when the minds of many were deeply solemnized by the
tidings which had reached them, he spoke a few words about what had
for some days detained him from them, and invited those to remain who
felt the need of an outpouring of the Spirit to convert them. About a
hundred remained; and at the conclusion of a solemn address to these
anxious souls, suddenly the power of God seemed to descend, and all
were bathed in tears. At a similar meeting next evening, in the
church, there was much melting of heart and intense desire after the
Beloved of the Father; and on adjourning to the vestry, the arm of the
Lord was revealed. No sooner was the vestry-door opened to admit those
who might feel anxious to converse, than a vast number pressed in with
awful eagerness. It was like a pent-up flood breaking forth; tears
were streaming from the eyes of many, and some fell on the ground
groaning, and weeping, and crying for mercy. Onward from that evening,
meetings were held every day for many weeks, and the extraordinary
nature of the work justified and called for extraordinary services.
The whole town was moved. Many believers doubted; the ungodly raged;
but the word of God grew mightily and prevailed. Instances occured
where whole families were affected at once, and each could be found
mourning apart, affording a specimen of the times spoken of by
Zechariah (12:12). Mr. Baxter of Hilltown, Mr. Hamilton, then
assistant at Abernyte, and other men of God in the vicinity, hastened
to aid in the work. Mr. Roxburgh of St. John's, and Mr. Lewis of St.
David's, examined the work impartially and judiciously, and testified
it to be of God. Dr. M'Donald of Ferintosh, a man of God well
experienced in Revivals, came to the spot and put to his seal also,
and continued in town, preaching in St. David's Church to the anxious
multitudes, during ten days. How many of those who were thus awfully
awakened were really brought to the truth, it was impossible to
ascertain. When Mr. M'Cheyne arrived, drop after drop was still
failing from the clouds.
Such in substance were the accounts he heard before he reached Dundee.
They were such as made his heart rejoice. He had no envy at another
instrument having been so honored in the place where he himself had
labored with many tears and temptations. In true Christian
magnanimity, he rejoiced that the work of the Lord was done, by
whatever hand. Full of praise and wonder, he set his foot once more on
the shore of Dundee.